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historiaxvanserra · 2 months ago

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In Hades I Am With You | Chapter One

Pairing: Azriel x Hewn!city reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: With rising tensions across the sea causing unrest in the capital, the two warring factions of the Night Court must come to terms.

Reader is the ill-fated daughter of a cruel Lord of Night; plagued with prophetic dreams and cursed with rare, arcane gifts. Azriel is the stoic spymaster; forged from violence, lethal and honed to a fatal sharpness. The pair find themselves bound to one another through sacred oaths. For better or worse.

Tags: Forced proximity, strangers to lovers, Night Court lore, Priestess reader, discussions of SA and abuse, discussions of sex work, criticism of misogyny, sexism, and general abuse in all its forms, eventual smut, slight corruption kink, reader is incredibly romantic and horny.

Please let me know what you think. This chapter and readers powers are heavily inspired by Poppy from From Blood and Ash.

I was born on a night like this, I think.

Storm-streaked, he had once called me. If only he could see me now; standing at the foothills of the mountain, wind-beaten and with the acrid taste of seafret on my lips. When I was a girl my father had told me that I came into the world the way the Old Gods had. Born from the merciless, blue-green depths of the sea.

To be beautiful and cruel, and fearless.

Now fear is all I know.

The streets of the great mountain city are plagued by a feverish summer storm and, at the fatal peal of thunder I cast my eyes skyward. A terrible dread coils in the pit of my stomach.

The visions come with the storm; fleeting images of an unforgiving tempest as it ravages all in its wake. The dark figure of a man, who whispers my name like a prayer.

The God of plagues and prophecy.

Death had first come to me in a dream. Haunting and prophetic. Shrouded in seraphic blue light.

Heat swells beneath the surface of the hydrangea clouds and the dark waters of the Sidra turn violent. Ivory seafoam coils and contorts violently like the tendrils of some grotesque sea-snake. I think of an old story my father had told me once. A human princess from the continent. She had been beautiful once. Until some dark, deathless God had lay claim to her. A monstrous thing. Rising from the depths of her watery tomb to lay waste to the men who had hurt her. Thrashing and writhing as the waves crested over the port of this wretched city.

The crack of forked, white lightning against the darkening horizon breaks my reverie and Scylla nestles into my side with a bruising force. I smooth a hand flat on her muzzle. Her lustrous dark mane feels soft under my tender touch and she exhales a hot breath that rises like steam in the wet heat of the Summer storm.

“Calm, Scylla.” I whisper tenderly to the mare I had taken to mount. My lips graze her dappled coat along her muzzle and I welcome the earthy fetor as it fills my senses.

“Gentle, girl.” I reaffirm, patting the mount affectionately as I tie the reins to the crumbling statue of some prince long dead.

“I’ll be back soon.” I promise. My voice wavers with another rumble of thunder.

When I was a girl, my father had told me to count the moments between the cacophony of thunder and the flash of white lightning to work out how many leagues away it might be.

At this moment I know that I am standing in the eye of the storm.

Scylla watches warily as my figure disappears into the darkness of the lower city. I still hear her in the distance long after I am gone. Cloistered in the darkness of the city’s narrow alleys I remove the onyx veil that shrouds my features. I bury it in the folds of the plain, grey cloak I had stolen from Leda.

I weave through the long, winding streets. I observe the world in flashes of cruel light and sound that permeates the suffocating darkness that saturates the lower city. I hear the echo of it in the lurid shouts of merchants, and the vulgar songs of sailors, coming home from the docks at the mouth of the Sidra. I listen to them all; as they beg, barter and brawl in the filthy streets. The fetor of decay lingers in the air like festering fruit flesh in the feverish heat of the slums. Throngs of beggar children chase the merchant's carts as they roll through the putrid pools of waste upon the wet, cobbled stone. Though, I only catch fleeting glimpses of them each time the cruel, seraphic light cuts through the blanket of the dark.

As I pass through the Streets of Silk, I hear the bawdy rhymes of the painted whores as they call out into the night like a siren song; all sultry-eyed and dressed in lace that billows in the wretched breeze like the tendrils of a monstrous chimera. Fated to lure wayward sailors to their watery tombs.

It is then, as the city bells toll their mournful song, that I reach my destination.

The building stands as one of the last unsanctioned pleasure halls in the city; its weary slate facade is cut from the same dark stone as the mountain that oppresses the city. Its neglected roof tiles gleam in the pallid silver faelights like moonlight on the murky-green depths of the Sidra. Above the door, I observe the pillory that bears the establishment's name. The Jade Pearl, painted in varying gaudy shades of green and gold.

The pleasure hall on the outer banks of the mountain city is alive with sordid activity. The whores in their fine silks twirl and dance in merry rings like water nymphs, and the serving girls sing sultry harmonies like siren songs, as they fill up the cups of patrons with sticky, honeyed mead. The high-arching melody of lyres and harps cut through the cacophony of carnal sounds; the officious laughter of Darkbringers, the vulgar curses and honeyed words, whispered into the skin of wind-beaten sailors and fat merchants.

I traverse the narrow corridors that run like veins into the heart of the tavern. Its dark antechamber is bathed in shadow and dying fireglow that casts the word in a pallid light. The emerald bar curves around the hall in the shape of a crescent moon and the tables dapple the room like stars.

“What a pretty creature you are, Mistress.” A beautiful wraith compliments, tugging and the long sleeves of my stolen robes. With tender touches and whispers the wraith works the buttons of my robes until I am left in the thin champagne shift I had worn beneath my cloak.

She’s a slender looking creature, with pale blue eyes that look almost silver in the dying light of the hearth. Her long, white hair is braided over her shoulder like the tendril of some mythical siren.

Dangerous and inviting.

“Whatever you desire, be it wine or women, I will procure for you tonight,” She purrs, her voice low and sultry as she looks at me with those pale eyes. She’s dressed in the gauzy, silk robes of a whore. The garment flows like water over the curve of her hip and with a deep slit in its middle that exposes the graceful swell of her breasts beneath. And through her guise of beauty and seduction, I see the chains that bind her.

As I am bound. To this court. To the mountain that we call home.

“A drink would be nice,” I acquiesce, sliding a gold coin across the polished surface of the bar, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It is no trouble at all, mistress- but this far too much coin.” The wraith begins to untether the cracked leather coin purse from her hip. She begins to exchange the gold for smaller coins of silver and bronze, counting them in her open palm.

“Please - keep it -- I’ve no use for such things anyway.” I command, nodding towards the coin in her hand. The wraith shakes her head and tries to protest but a call from the brutish looking owner draws the girl's attention away from me. I look up from my spot, across the painted emerald surface of the bar, to the games table. A voice, thick with mirth and malice, beckons my attention.

“There are rumors amongst the legion that the High Lord will return to Court by the moon's turn.” The cruel laugh of a Darkbringer draws my interest as they sit around an emerald table. Crimson cards and dice litter the surface of the table and in its center a collection of coins. The male at the head of the table is dressed in his court robes; a dark overcoat with silver embroidery along the collars and cuffs. The others have abandoned their stifling robes in lieu of casual black tunics and pants. It is only through the tendrils of dark that shroud them in shadow that I know what they are.

These men are members of The Night Court’s legion of Darkbringers; and servants of the High Lord’s Steward. The larger of the three, unsheathes his dagger and places it atop the pile of coins in lieu of money.

A reminder of their lethal potential.

A vein of dark power that speaks to a coming vision plagues me in those spaces between the seconds. Untethered and adrift in the ether I allow my fragile mind to wander. I see a lake from which the dead rise like a devastating tempest. I see a King atop a dias, and a throne of splintered bone. And, through the blanket of the dark, I see the gleam of Illyrian Steel and age worn bone.

Then, that tenuous connection to the Otherworld is severed.

“The commander of the city watch says that tensions in the lower city are rising.” The deep timbre of the Darkbringer rouses me from thought again.

“I heard that the Lord Protector plans to broker an alliance with the Death Lord himself,”

“ if only to free himself of Rhysand’s leash.”

“--bring him and that bitch of his to heel morelike.” The youngest of the three smiles malevolently.

“Enough of that, boys, we’re in the presence of a Lady.” The leader implies dangerously and at once, three heads incline in my direction. There are no Ladies allowed in this part of the city. The females of this forsaken city are bound to the Moonstone Palace. Forced to our knees in deference to our male oppressors. The only women that still dwell in the lower city are whores and exiles. Of which I am neither.

Something dark and terrible roils in the pit of my stomach as the male approaches. I pull the hood of the austere, grey cloak to veil my face in shadows. The pale eyes of the Darkbringer meet mine through the din and his smile curls around the sharpness of his teeth.

The cold, amethyst hilt of a dagger kisses the tender flesh of my thigh beneath the many lawyers of dark fabric and I am reminded of my own lethal potential. The dagger had been passed from my grandsire some years ago. Made and forged from the ancient power that dwells beneath the mountain that we call home. The dagger itself had been set in a hilt of dark wood, trimmed with silver and precious gems; amethyst, sapphire and onyx. Its blade was fashioned of Illyrian steel and honed to a fatal sharpness.

“What a pretty little bird, she is.” He taunts as he approaches, his manner imposing and vindictive as he takes my chin roughly between his fingers.

“I am no Lady, Ser.” I swallow thickly. It is true, of course. I am no Lady of the Night Court. I had been a babe when they found me. The cursed daughter to a cruel lord and some terrified nymph.

My mother died giving me life and left me at the ruined Temple of Beara, the Mistress of Storms, deep in the foothills of the mountain. In the hopes that the Priestesses would shelter me from the cruelty of this court. After the temple fell I was brought before the Lords of Night and given to the Temple of Astarion on account of my rare and ancient gift.

“Then perhaps you might regale my friends and I with the tale of how a pretty thing like you ends up here.” The Darkbringer replies, sliding a coin across the table. His gaze drops to the rings that adorn my hands; fine rings of onyx and amethyst, mined from the wretched bowels of the mountain that I have come to call home. The mark of my good breeding.

“I assure you Ser, I am no whore either.” I chastise, sliding my hand beneath the folds of my cloak. The lust that pools in his eyes is a dreadful thing. Lecherous and heinous. Though I take comfort in the knowledge that my true identity is concealed.

As the Pythia of the Night Court a dark veil typically obscures my features from the view of men; save from my eyes, which are heavily darkened with kohl and pigments of sapphire and amethyst that hail from the mines of Illyria. The veil protects me as much as it oppresses me. For if male like this knew of the power I possess, they would seek to control it, to covet that power until I were a vessel of their ill intent. That is why I was given to the Temple as a child. Why my estranged father and the Steward of the Night Court seek to make me their weapon. I know then that if I am discovered I will suffer for it. The kind of suffering that only exists here, in the rotting depths of Hewn City.

“No, I see that now.” Devilment darkens his pale gaze and the cut of amethyst shines in his dark eyes, he releases me from his bruising grip with a dark laugh.

“Curious little thing.” One of the men whispers.

“This is not the place for a gentle creature like you, Lady” He whispers, his pointed finger ghosts the cut of onyx on my hand, “luckily for you I am feeling quite merciful.”

“I am not as gentle as I look, Ser.” I warn. The three Darkbringers laugh cruelly. I turn to leave when a firm hand closes around my wrist and twists me so I am held in the Darkbringers bruising embrace. His lips drag a tortuous line along the side of my jaw.

“Now, now little bird,” He coos mockingly against the shell of my ear as I struggle violently against him, “flighty little thing.”

Bile rises in my throat as the Darkbringer’s companions laugh and fingers dig into the knife at my thigh, unsheathing it in a moment and pressing it against the male's pale throat. Unshed tears line my eyes like flecks of silver starlight as his hands still on my waist.

“That is what you call mercy?” I laugh bitterly at the man, his eyes hardening as the Illyrian steel blade glints in the dim light.

“Let go of her, Aeres.” The eldest of the three orders and the Darkbringer unhands me at once.

“Now fly back to your cage, little bird.” The elder male nods towards the rear exit beyond the bar.

On uncertain feet I Traverse the narrow aisle of the tavern I find myself adrift amongst the dancing tide of patrons. A throng of women, clad in gauzy robes and underthings, twist and contort like columns of technicolor seafoam. The cruel laughter from the dance floor pulls me deeper into the wretched heart of the pleasure house. Lurid whistles and a series of vulgar gestures rouse my attention. A female; dressed in spider silk and lace coils around a portly merchant at the games table. She slips into his lap with a serpentine grace. I watch as the merchant’s weathered hand traces the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts. Smacking his hand away, the woman laughs, it is a beautiful, false thing that glitters in the pallid light.

“Well, girl I hope you fuck better than you play cards.” The merchant complains, laying down his deck of crimson cards. The female curls a painted hand around the cuffs of his tunic and whispers into his ear and the merchant's mouth curves into a lurid smile. One thick hand draws down her stomach, the other brushes the flesh of her thigh, slipping under the folds of her robe between her legs --

Oh.

I avert my eyes at the scene as a blush kisses its way along my neck and chest at the intimacy of it. The merchant rises from his seat at the table, taking the female slender hand in his. The whispered words they exchange are too low for me to hear but her answering smile is enough to know it was something wicked. The female rises leads the merchant towards the sleeping chambers beyond the emerald curtains.

I watch as the merchant's shadowy figure is swallowed by the darkness as the curtain is drawn. My attention lingers far after they are gone, leaving only the smell of salt and jasmine in their wake.

I am overcome with a strange, prophetic awareness.; dreams of shadowed light and a bleeding star, scarred hands that track the constellations as they reign over the black tapestry of the sky.

The high-arching symphony of strings and lyres blossoms in the feverish heat of the tavern. The soft melody of the lyres seems to echo off of the high, domed ceiling, as the heavy beat of a drum joins the cacophony of sound. It’s a hypnotizing, deeply sensual beat, that is unlike anything I have ever heard.

Primal and carnal.

I find myself adrift in the sway of the dancing sea. Slowly, I make my way along the length of the bar, reaching out to touch the gauzy jade curtains, parting them slowly --

“I don’t think you want to go in there, Mistress.” The lilting voice of the wraith warns.

“Why not?” I ask curiously, lowering my hand from the curtain. The wraith laughs prettily, her cerulean eyes glinting in the dying light of the fire.

“Some don’t appreciate an audience, Sweet girl.”

“An audience?” I ask.

Through the darkness of the antechamber, I see the silhouettes of the whores and their patrons, writhing and undulating with the beat of the drum. The music is punctuated by panting breaths and lilting moans, and the vulgar sound of men as they find their pleasure.

“Oh.” The wraith laughs again, her painted lips curl into a wicked smile.

“Is it your first time here, Priestess?” The wraith leans in, the rich tenor of her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. Fear coils in my stomach and my grip on the emerald surface of the bar tightens.

“I’m no priestess.” I try to emulate her melodious laughter and my eyes narrow in faux concern.

“You needn't lie to me, Pythia. Your secret's safe with me.” Her words resound in my head and realization dawns. She’s daemati.

“That type of secret is not safe with anyone.”

“What could I gain from exposing it to anyone? I wish you no ill will.” She returns.

“You’d earn the Lord Protector's favor, of that I am certain --.”

The wraith's face twists into a grimace and her sapphire stare hardens to a cold, wicked thing. “I have no need for that viper’s favour.” The venom laced in her voice speaks to the malice she holds for this place, its patrons and the cruel light of Hewn City. Many within the court resent the way in which we live, clinging to the slivers of power we are allowed, cowering in the darkness of the mountain.

Things are changing as of late, war looms ever closer and whispers of dissent from the continent bring about unrest in the people. Many turn to the High Lord and his Lady for liberation from the dying vestiges and brutal traditions of this court. For many years I myself have lived in servitude and isolation, serving Keir, The Lord Protector and Steward of the ancient mountain city.

As his coveted oracle; a conduit for his own power.

A cruel wind cuts through the heat of the pleasure hall as the doors open to announce an influx of new patrons. Three men, dressed in court robes enter through the archway, each shaded in shadows and dark wisps of power. My heart hammers thunderously in my chest as the men enter the heart of the establishment.

“A flagon of wine and some dice, Arik.” The Darkbringer announces to the man behind the bar. My face pales from where I stand. These men are of my personal guard; formidable and unwaveringly loyal to my keeper.

These men, these good men, are sworn to a monster, and they must do monstrous things to survive here.

As we all must.

I veil my face with the hood of my stolen cloak, tucking my hair into the collar so that it is concealed from view, and my face obscured almost entirely. If they were to discover me they would be duty bound to drag me back to the Moonstone Palace and throw me down atop the emerald dias for Keir and my father to punish as they see fit.

I take another tentative look across the room and observe the men crowded around the game table with women hanging off them, like a swarm of beautiful and merciless harpies.

“That one’s usual girl looks like you--” The wraith whispers to me, casting her own gaze to Ares who stands alone near the fire rather forlorn for a male in the middle of a brothel.

“She’s busy with her favorite client upstairs. Perhaps you might retrieve her and make your escape.” Slowly, I turn to the wraith who takes my hand gently and leads me along the length of the bar.

“You will find Aelle on the second floor -- take sanctuary there. I’ll come for you when your friends are occupied.”

I hold her hand fondly and press a gold coin into her palm.

“Thank you.” I say. She presses a chaste kiss to my cheek and ushers me up the stairs.

As I ascend the steps of the pleasure hall, I slip a hand between the folds of my cloak, fingers ghosting the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh once more.

The upper levels of the house are painted a deep emerald color and the flickering fae lights saturate the long, narrow corridors in onyx wisps of shadow. The room at the end of the corridor is stepped in near darkness, veins of indigo and navy that obscure everything in a shroud of blue-darkness. The mantle is hung with half-burned candles and a garland of foxglove and jasmine. The antique furniture looks as though it has been carved from the black wood of ash trees and the armchairs in front of the dying hearth are embroidered with dark floral motifs and silver threads.

I draw in a sharp breath and the scent of pine and night-blooming florals shrouds me in its winter kiss.

A flash of seraphic light illuminates the room and a deep voice, shaded in nightshade calls out from the blue-darkness.

“I’ve been waiting for you,”

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar

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valentine-cafe · 2 months ago

Note

helloo! i hope you're having a good time, whatever timezone you're in. may i please order a strawberry shortcake??

(top!male!reader)

thinking about rishen and reader going home together after a party, both of them absolutely wasted, and them having really messy sex? (with hate fucking possibly?)

— 🫀 anon

˖⁺. “ fuck you harder !? ” :

﹙ top rival male reader x bttm nerd rival ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 rishen x male reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ hero ˖ spider-moth-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ﹚

you've always had quite the rivarly with the pretty nerd of your uni. yet he has become quite bold at a party. teasing you, pressing up against you, making out with you at the bar. you just had to take him home. . . but then he just had to piss you off in the cab back home.

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ handjob ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ thigh-fucking ˖ rough sex ˖ creampie ˖ degradation ˖ messy sex ˖ hate-fucking | wc : 1.8k

﹙ receipts ﹚: I love you so so much for this ask because rishen is suuuchhh a brat and I finally get to write about it

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

“Y’gonna make me bend - you over my - fucking sofa, brat?”

Your fingers coil tighter around his curls as you smack him over the arm of the grey sofa. Hands delving to his thigh high stocking and feeling his soft skin before you’re shoving a hand up his skirt and curling your fingers into his red panties. Yanking them down with a force that threatens to tear them.

“Mppff,” he hiccups into the throw cushion. Smart comments that he throws you through hallways and all through tonight nowhere to be seen for the moment. Not when you grab at his cock and give a few jerks that leave his eyes fluttering.

“Yeah?” You slur.

“F-. . . Fucking slow -”

Your hand reacts on cue. Slapping his ass and jerking him further over the arm as you squeeze your palm around his tip and hear him sob. Once again submitting to your rough movements. The harsh kisses that you lather over the side of his neck and the merciless pumps of his weeping dick.

The audacity of this nerd. From riling you up at every. Waking. Moment in uni. To even now - when you have a hand up his skirt and making him leak all over your sofa.

What a bratty mouth for a damn nerd indeed.

The hand in his hair circles round his neck. You give him a harsh squeeze beneath his jaw before stuffing your fingers past his lips. Adding a new taste to his tongue bitter from alcohol. You just can’t help but fuck his mouth decorated in glossy red lipstick with your fingers. Pressing on the back of his tongue as you aggressively hump against his plush ass.

“Al’ways have - smthing to fuckin’ say.”

You huff out. The alcohol staining your own tongue. Oh you wish it was stained with his leaking precum. You feel the way he’s dripping all over your hand and it takes all of your self restraint not to remove your palm and have a taste.

But there is no way in hell that you are giving him head after he’s had a smart mouth with you all night.

Flashes of the party flicker through your haughty eyes. Of the little slut pretending he couldn’t hear you. Ignoring you. Grinding up on you on the dance floor. Tongue kissing you at the bar when you have enough of his coy bullshit.

Don’t even get you started on the ride back home. The things he said to you. “Why’re you holding back? Not packin’ big boy?”

You’ll show him small.

The sound of the belt buckle takes over the sound of his whining, pathetic moans into the cushion. When did you get two fingers in him? You’re not sure. All you know is that you are fucking him knuckles-deep. Fast. Blinding. A rotate of your wrist every few seconds to press your fingers up into that one spot that has him crying and clawing at the fabric of the sofa pathetically.

“P-P-. . . Pleasepeasepl - angh - god pleeaaaseee -”

His hips are rocking back into your hand so needily. How can you not shove your pants down and stumble around in the process. Suck in a breath and blink a few times to rid the haze and colourful spots in your vision. His thighs will sober you right up - is what you tell yourself.

So you release his cock and hiss in his ear when he whines at you. “Be patient. Whore.” Another smack to his thigh for good measure. A tint to his bronze skin. You can’t wait to paint it with cum instead.

Air fills your lungs as you suck in another breath to keep yourself steady. Pump at your own cock and bite your lip at the throb of your tip. For a second you forget that you’re finger-fucking him. You so desperately wish to just push in and fuck him raw. But your pettiness, somehow, outweighs your neediness to feel his tight ass throbbing around your cock.

Instead you pull your fingers out completely. Spread his thighs out and spit on his fluttering rim when he tries to complain. Your nails dig into his soft flesh as a warning before you are slipping your dick between the small gap you created. A hitch of breath from the both of you when your tip drags over the underside of his balls.

There’s a beat of silence. Both of you relishing in the sensation that makes your tips pulse with the threat of precum.

Until your rough hands squish his thighs together. Hurriedly snap your hips against him. There’s a plap of skin. Leaking all over - but the only friction Rishen can taste is the drag of your dick against his occasionally as you fuck is thighs instead of him.

You can almost hear his offense in his whines. The way that he tries to buck his hips back into you. You see the small wet patch of his drool all over the cushion; and let out a bark of laughter. Your hand returns to hook around his hair. Yank his head up and smack your hips against him as though you are fucking him sore.

Oh he’s sore alright. Cock pulsing. Glistening with his need. The slick that catches on your tip and draws a few grunts from your lips and tightened jaw.

“Fucking whore. Not even in yet.”

But it’s torture to you too. You ache to fuck him full. Teach him a lesson. Make him cream himself all over your sheets until he won’t be able to even look at you the next time you cross paths in the uni hallway.

The room swirls. Colours mixing in a confusing haze. All you remember is the softness of the mattress. The plush of his body. The way he thrashed into the bed and sobbed so desperately into the sheets once you bullied your cock into his tight ass. Stretch him out as you hold him down with two firm hands on his thighs. Shoved down onto his tummy and helpless. Unable to do anything but take you.

Everything is spinning. The scent of alcohol and sex burns your nostrils. But nothing compares to the sweet cherry perfume that fills your senses when you reach down to latch your teeth onto his neck. Your dizzy head centers around the combination of the headboard banging into the wall and his helpless, slutty moans.

“P-Pl- nghh fuck - fuckfpleaas- h-hngah-!”

It’s a slew of English, Spanish and gibberish. One that draws grunts from your lips. The tequila from earlier pales in comparison to the intoxicating affect that his moans have you. Your hips respond in tandem. Rapidly smacking into his ass as you hold him against the sheets with a lazy strength.

For a moment you pull away from abusing his neck with your hickeys and bites. In favour of watching the way his poor little hole takes you - again, again - and again.

Suddenly you are drunk on the sight of ripples through his flesh. The obvious plap plap plap of his skin with every rough cram of your hips against his. And most importantly. . . how the big-mouthed nerd struggles to take you after all that smart talk.

“Is it still small?” The hiss seeps through your clenched teeth. Your fingers join the venom and clutch at his hips to hold him still as you slowly draw out. Groan at the sight of slick stringing to your tip from his fluttering hole.

A slew of pitiful moans is the only answer. The irritation and hurt pride from earlier swells through you and you twist his smaller body around. Snatch his jaw and shove his face into sheets as you ram back into his awaiting walls. All the way so that you can fuck hard and fast against that spot that his eyes rolling back.

“Is.”

slam.

“It.”

slam!

“Small?”

Another squirt of his cum that shoots to his abdomen. His needy sobs drown out as your hips jam into his. Slotting so perfectly while your other hand grips at his thigh and makes sure it is wide open for your rabid pounding.

“N-No - no -nonoo angh - i-it’s not - snotitssnooott fuuckk,” he manages to slur and hiccup into the sheets as you let lose on his poor ass. You don’t care how many times he’s splurted his messy cum all over. The drunken, mindless need to prove a point drives your stamina to the max as your hands roam all over.

If they aren’t in his hair. It’s down his sides. Yanking on his thighs so that he’s forced back down into your blinding thrusts. Oh you love the way his eyes cross at that. If not that then you are pinching at his pierced nipples. Or rubbing over the piercing on his dick that glistens with his numerous releases.

“Mhhm.”

The hum is low in your throat. Thumb slowly stroking along the silver bar that makes his poor dick squirt all over again. A perfect contrast to your pace that has refused to halt since you stumbled haphazardly into your dim bedroom.

“Tha’s what I though. Yeah. Take it all f’me.”

You bite down on your lip at the sight of him. Thighs hooked over your hips. Fingers coiled into the sheets above him. His lips parted and eyes rolled back

His hand moves to grab at your arm. Eyes rolling back into his skull, while another orgasm is ripped out of him. Like the feral animal you are, you eat it all up.

“F—Fu—ck-k!” He whines and shivers. tongue out and head rolling around to every thrust. And as you set your pace to an extra few notches up, you feel yourself growing a bit sloppy as his tight hole squeezes around you.

The both of you were made for one another. You didn’t doubt it one second with how he took you.

Slowly, the frantic slapping of skin against skin began losing it’s rhythm. Plapping out into the room and melting into the walls as your own, last, orgasm rushed to your abdomen. Cum staining the poor boy’s ass.

“S— ‘S that- hahh what you like?” You pant in his ear, groaning, while you collapse down upon him. Hips still grinding slowly into his needy hole.

“N-no-morreee— No puedo mááááááás.” The whine reaches your ears quick. He’s had enough. Why not give him a break and let him catch up. Until the both of you are ready to fuck again later?

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#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: rishen 781 𖹭 ݁#top male reader #male reader #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #x male reader #monster fucker #terato #monster x reader #smut #monster smut #hero x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #rishen 781 #asterism

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really-burnt-toast · 9 days ago

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Meet the disciples.

Here you see the lineup of Mellia's disciples!

Thyma, the nightly patrol. Thorantre, the first follower (mainly there to look pretty). Fena, the Loyalty enforcement. And Agana, the first baby from the cult and the Tax enforcement. They are totally all happy and there's TOTALLY no drama between everyone :)

You've already seen Fena and Thyma before, Fena having had her own post and Thyma being a npc from a NariLamb response.

(If you want close-ups and lore, look under cut.)

Going from left to right;

Thyma, a maned Wolf - real name unknown - was the most recent addition to the disciples. Found during one of the first crusades after beating Narinder, the Lamb ran into them at Night. Upon arrival, Thyma introduced themselves as; "Just call me Thyma." And became the Night patrol. Oddly enough, Thyma claims to be afraid of the dark and feel paranoid at night; but that's exactly why they chose that job. Staying awake and alert all night to then sleep during the safe day - that was their plan. He was fiercely loyal from the start and quickly ranked up to discipleship, which came in handy due to the Lamb and other disciples being able to keep better tabs on him.

Thorantre, a Lama - the first ever follower of the Lamb. He had been caught by the old faith after spreading "sheep propaganda". He was about to be sacrificed as well, when the Lamb freed him after just having been sacrificed as well. He does all sorts of jobs, but mainly just does worship and maintenance things. That Lama is a diva through and through, but managed to become close with the Lamb - making him also the first ever disciple. He has caused lots of headaches and troubles and is only really allowed to stay because he's special to Mellia. Thorantre is a non-committal part of the discipleship, mainly there for drama.

Fena, an Elk - the first follower found during a crusade. She was separated from her family and was meant to be sacrificed to Leshy. When the Lamb saved her, she immediately became the most useful and powerful part of the cult. Strongest, wisest - the closest friend to Mellia. A family to come back to and someone to hold up the cult when they were gone. Everyone knew she'll become a disciple, and everyone knew she'll become the Loyalty enforcement and the Lamb's right hand. She had always been their favorite, rightfully so. She's well loved and respected, though she can be strict and harsh, as per job demands. Fena is the head of the disciples and considered "co-leader" in a way. If the Lamb is busy, go to her. Unfortunately, Fena is accidentally the source of most disciple drama due to her suspicion to newbies and her romantic ties to other disciples.

Agana, a Lemur - the first baby to be born within cult walls. The Lamb was immediately smitten and coddled the little kid. They grew up raised by both their parents and Mellia. The name was a play on both her parents. Striving to be a disciple since childhood, Agana quickly grew up to become one. Since they proved themselves to be very mature and logical, they were made Tax enforcement. They're probably the most unproblematic and chill of the disciples - friends with everyone and extremely trusting; bordering on naive. They love greeting new disciples in their lineup. Also the least dramatic of them all.

Here are some of the in game models! All disciples wear the Officer suits, aside from Thyma - who wears a Yeoman coat. He was given an Officer suit too, but kept his coat.

Thorantre has a golden skull too, but I took it away because... Reasons. But that doesn't matter rn. Also couldn't get a different pic for Fena, sorry.

Fun facts;

Originally, Thyma was the grey fox model, since he used to be a Fox-Wolf hybrid. I changed that into a Maned Wolf and thus Thema became a normal fox model.

Thyma's name is known to the Lamb, but only them.

Thyma is an insomniac, but still wears the moon necklace most days to be awake at day also. They have not yet received their golden skull and have yet to accept the possibility of owning one.

Thorantre has a canon body count (murders).

Fena and Thorantre were messy exes and had a kid. Fena and Agana have children as well. All children created are non-canon.

Fena is canonically a trans woman.

Fena is platonically married to the Lamb. (Not canon in my AU)

Thyma, Latra and Echo are all OCs created from preexisting concepts - Thyma having been a prior oc revamped to fit COTL.

All the disciples personas were based on the in game things I've witnessed from them.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl oc #cotl au #cotl three times #reallyBURNTrambles

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thedinanshiral · 8 months ago

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What to read before The Veilguard drops

Yes people, we have homework. In case you missed it, or need to refresh that memory because hey, it's been a while, here's a quick short list of what to (re)read in preparation for this new entry in the series.

Books:

From Tevinter Nights: Down among the dead men (introduces Emmrich and Manfred), The wigmaker job (introduces Lucanis), The streets of Minrathous (introduces Neve).

The Last Flight, last novel released somewhere around DA: Inquisition. Takes the action to Weisshaupt, Grey Wardens HQ, and jumps between that present and the past explaining how the Griffons became extinct during the Fourth Blight. Will explain where Davrin's griffon came from.

Comics:

Magekiller. It's pretty introductory overall, set around Inquisition but it introduces "magekillers" as a job some people do. While in Tevinter Nights Lucanis is introduced as an Antivan Crow seems he's decided to change careers so it can't hurt to learn a bit about it.

The missing. Gives us Varric and Scout Harding already working together, and introduces us to Neve.

Short Stories:

Posted a while back in the BioWare page for Dragon Age day as crumbs to feast on while we waited, and waited, and waited..I recommend reading all of them simply because most people may have missed them and they add to lore and characters that while not among the new companions may still make an appearance and be relevant in Veilguard.

Of course I recommend reading EVERYTHING if possible, it all adds more layers and flavor and we know Solas is in the details, we can't miss a thing, but I think if you're short on time this counts as light reading enough to know where you'll land when Dragon Age: The Veilguard finally arrives.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #tevinter nights #the missing #magekiller #dragon age comics #dragon age novels #this list may be incomplete as I'm one who needs to refresh my memory #it's been a VERY long while #will update if necessary

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zerocoded · 11 days ago

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summary: caleb wants to confess to you on his knees and a 70-year-old lady becomes your biggest nightmare.

authors note: pls take a look at the warnings for a safe reading ♡ y'all are freakier than me and I LOVE IT, so here is the continuation of this post i made, if you haven't read it, go and tell me what you think about! also check the talented artist who made this drawing that i'm using as a banner, credits to her ♡ this thing was supposed to be 6k words max but i think i got a little too much into EVERYTHING so i'm sorry if this sucks. still, i wish you guys a nice reading!

warnings: MAJOR LORE GUESS, THIS IS MY THEORY OF HOW THINGS WILL PLAY OUT DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY • gaslighting and manipulation • SLIGHT yandere!caleb • possessive!caleb • isolation but just a little • minor injury • psychological distress • themes of wars and weaponization • we talk a little about our trauma • ptsd symptoms • negative talks about ourselves (booh) • caleb custom makes an uniform specially for us • hints at psychological torture • once again, ANGST BABES because these two really like to bicker with each other • sfw content but HEAVILY SUGGESTIVE, just nothing graphic

word count: 11.6k (pls let's not talk about it)

THIS IS THE PART TWO, you can read the first chapter below:

the first time you see caleb after the incident┃ you're here┃caleb teaches you his love language next! ( on going series )

skyhaven, powered by a protocore, stood as a beacon of innovation—a home to cutting-edge research centers and advanced tech organizations. when you were younger, the suspended island above linkon city had been a dream, a place of endless possibility and freedom. now, standing here, you couldn’t shake the irony: the very place you once longed to visit now felt like a gilded cage.

your journey here has unsettled you, planting a persistent seed of doubt. was this truly what you wanted? leaving behind the familiar comforts of your apartment to follow caleb to this towering, enigmatic place—was it the right choice? did that moment—the feeling of his lips on yours—truly change anything between you? did he think about it as often as you did?

the initial shock and disbelief of reuniting with caleb, after weeks spent mourning him, had begun to settle by your second night in skyhaven. the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him alive—relief, confusion, and a flicker of anger—faded into a dull hum as reality set in. as the day dragged on, with caleb strictly advising you not to leave his sleeping quarters’ floor, you found yourself with plenty of time to adjust to the strange circumstances you now found yourself in.

your first day here had passed quietly, an uneasy stillness settling over you. you hadn’t yet met any of caleb’s colleagues. the only glimpse you’d gotten of them was when you both arrived, their initial looks of curiosity quickly extinguished by caleb’s commanding presence. whatever questions they had, they didn’t dare voice them. his authority was absolute, and for now, it shielded you from the world beyond his floor—but it also left you feeling isolated, a stranger in this new environment.

the second day started and ended much like the first—confined to his bedchambers, with nothing but your thoughts and the ever-changing view from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows in his room. you spent hours there, caught in a trance as the sky shifted through an endless palette of colors, clouds forming and dissolving in shapes that seemed just as fleeting as your grip on this new reality.

caleb’s presence was everywhere and that made you a little dizzy. his scent lingered in the shirts he had lent you, in the bed sheets that cradled you at night, a warm mix of leather, musk, and something distinctly his own. his quarters, though rarely used given how much of his time was consumed by work, were unmistakably a reflection of him.

the room was awash in muted greys, from the smooth metallic walls to the minimalist furniture that prioritized function over form. cabinets lined one side, adorned with badges from past missions—quiet tokens of his history, his sacrifices, and his triumphs. their arrangement felt almost random, yet carried a subtle, unspoken order.

his bed, though crisply made, was an island of softness in the otherwise sharp-edged decor. a worn leather jacket hung by the door, its scuffed edges a contrast to the polished surface of his boots, lined perfectly beneath. on the desk in the corner, a stack of reports waited alongside a notebook with frayed edges, a relic of a more personal side of him he rarely let anyone see.

when reality came crashing down, you realized that you felt no different than when you were a little kid—admiring the boy of your dreams from a distance, your heart caught between hope and the quiet certainty that this dream was just that: a dream. the same ache lingered, a mixture of longing and doubt. you felt closer to that dream every time you caught caleb staring at you when he thought you were distracted.

speaking of ache, the injury you’d sustained a few days earlier during one of your missions was still fresh in your memory. the medic team at the farspace fleet had tended to it with precision, and that counted as the second time you’d interacted with anyone here. you hadn’t meant to let it slip during your journey that your ribs were swollen from an accident at work, but caleb had noticed—and he wasn’t about to let you brush it off.

when you tried to wave away his concerns, insisting you just needed rest, he didn’t take it lightly. his worry for you came out in an unusual way—firm, commanding, and impossible to ignore. he barked orders at the medic team with an authority that left no room for argument, his voice sharp and unwavering. watching him threaten them to ensure you received the best care, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t just acting as a colonel—he was someone who cared deeply for you.

as the clock marked the start of your third day as caleb’s reluctant guest, you rose from his bed, the routine as monotonous as the view outside. you slipped into fresh clothes—despite having no prospect of seeing anyone besides caleb—and began your habitual ritual of tidying up his space, a quiet attempt to pass the time and bring a sliver of normalcy to the strange circumstances.

you were certain the colonel wouldn’t mind if you spent the day lounging in his shirt—it wasn’t like he’d complain—but there was something about maintaining a semblance of decency that felt necessary. maybe it was your way of reminding yourself that you and caleb weren’t pre-teenagers cuddling in granny’s sofa like you used to anymore, now you were both adults.

caleb’s presence in the room was fleeting, almost ghostlike. you always fell asleep before he returned and woke to find the bed cold and empty, his absence a constant companion. and yet, in the stillness of the night, there were moments—fleeting, but undeniable—when you stirred just enough to feel him. his arm would circle your waist, his breath soft against your hair. it was never long enough to fully wake, but just enough to remind you that he was there, in his own quiet, guarded way.

and there it goes your attempt at decency once again.

you’d joked once about how he was keeping you hostage, trying to lighten the mood of your strange arrangement. caleb had smirked at your remark, that faint, knowing curve of his lips that you used to know what it meant but couldn’t pinpoint it anymore. “be patient”, he’d teased, throwing out that stupid nickname he’d decided to saddle you with since kids. then, with his usual abruptness, he’d turned to leave, disappearing for yet another task that demanded his attention.

you caught yourself daydreaming about kicking his ass more times than you wanted to admit, but refrained from it because of the little consideration you had for the man. caleb had always been more than a mere presence in your life. growing up, he had been both a confidant and the object of an innocent, unspoken infatuation.

back at school, you remembered the way your classmates would fawn over him after the whole chronorift thing happened, their voices tinged with admiration and awe. it had stirred a quiet possessiveness in you that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now—until two nights ago, when he brought you to the farspace fleet. the way the other daa soldiers regarded him, with a mixture of respect and fear, reminded you of those little girls in school, seeing him as someone out of reach.

the sound of your footsteps echoed faintly in the silence of caleb’s quarters as you paced, restless energy building with nowhere to go. the midday light filtering through the observation deck window cast long shadows, shifting subtly as the minutes dragged into hours. you’d spent the morning turning over every piece of information caleb had given you—trying to make sense of his cryptic remarks.

you had thought about confronting him more than once, but every time you pictured his sharp gaze and those carefully chosen, guarded responses, you stopped yourself. caleb didn’t share things easily like he used to, and if he was keeping you in the dark now, there had to be a reason. but patience had never been your strong suit, and the isolation of the past three days only made your doubts heavier, pressing against your thoughts like an unshakable weight.

as the door to his quarters hissed open, your heart jumped, the sound breaking the stillness like a gunshot. caleb stepped inside, his movements precise, his expression unreadable. his uniform was slightly rumpled, the dark fabric clinging to his frame, and a faint sheen of sweat on his brow suggested whatever task he’d been called to wasn’t as simple as he might claim.

“you’re still up here,” he observed, his tone neutral but his gaze flicking over you briefly before settling on the desk where he’d left a stack of reports.

“where else would i be?” you replied, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “you made it pretty clear this is my designated prison cell.”

his lips quirked into that familiar smirk. “if this is a prison, i’d say you’ve got the best cell in the fleet.”

you rolled your eyes at his response, folding your arms across your chest. “sure, best cell in the fleet,” you muttered, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “it’s not like i have much to compare it to.”

caleb chuckled softly, his smirk lingering as he moved toward the desk, casually thumbing through the stack of reports. “you’ve got a knack for making everything sound like an ordeal,” he said, glancing at your choice of clothes for the day—it wasn’t anything crazy, just some jeans and a black compression shirt. caleb didn’t gave you time to actually pack your stuff, of course. “but you’ll want to save your complaints for later. something tells me you’re about to get more to gripe about.”

before you could ask what he meant, the door hissed open again, and a small team of people entered, their arrival so abrupt it left you momentarily stunned. they carried garment bags and cases, moving efficiently under caleb’s orders. he turned to you, his expression unreadable but his tone calm and firm.

“go with them,” he said simply. “they’ll help you get ready.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “ready for what?”

“it’s time for you to get out of here,” he said, his tone firm yet measured. “you need to meet some people. there’s an interrogation set up, and they’re going to need answers—everything you know about onychinus, the aether core, and ever. try to dig up whatever you can remember about your time in the lab,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “that should keep them satisfied, princess.”

your body tensed at the mention of onychinus. it was a name you didn’t expect to hear here, of all places, and the weight of it hit you like a blow to the chest. your gaze snapped to caleb, your mind already racing. how much did he know? how much had he told them?

“onychinus?” you repeated, your voice sharper than you intended. “how do they even know about that?”

did they know about sylus?

caleb’s expression remained unreadable, his amethystine eyes cool and steady, but there was a flicker of something he wasn’t saying. “this isn’t just about you anymore,” he replied simply. “they need answers. so do i.”

“and the lab?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? i don’t know shit about that place, caleb. i already told you. it’s hard enough to believe i’m some kind of fucking experiment.”

he sighed heavily, the sound more resigned than exasperated. “we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice steady but with a tinge of weariness, as if the conversation had played out in his head a hundred times already.

“no,” you shot back, stepping closer, your voice trembling with emotion. “you talked about this. you told me we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other. you told me about your time before the chronorift and granny josephine.” your voice faltered for a moment, your breath hitching. “and i told you, caleb, i don’t remember any procedures being done without my consent. even after the chronorift tragedy. you should stop fretting me about this.”

“you don’t remember,” he said quietly, his amethystine eyes holding yours with a steady intensity. “that’s fine. i didn’t either, at first.” he paused, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he continued. “but i hope we can talk about this again later, when you finally do remember.”

his voice dropped lower. “trust me,” he said, the words heavy with meaning. “you’re going to want me by your side when that happens.”

you narrowed your eyes, your tone turning accusatory. “and what about you? are they interrogating you too, or is this just about me?”

he tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint smirk that was equal parts infuriating and captivating. “i was the one who asked for your interrogation,” he said, his voice calm, almost casual, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“what do you mean, you asked?” you demanded, stepping closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. the sheer size of him, amplified by the sharp lines of his uniform, made him feel larger than life. the dark fabric clung to his frame, accentuating his out worldly height.

his perfume was also divine.

“i need to make sure you’re telling the truth,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. the words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in concern. his bionic arm rested at his side, the faint hum of its servos almost lost in the tension between you.

your breath hitched, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “you don’t trust me,” you said, your voice quieter now, though no less sharp. “after the stunt you pulled at granny’s house, i should be the one not to trust you”.

his gaze softened, just for a moment, but then his expression hardened again, the familiar steel returning to his eyes. “this isn’t about trust,” he said, his voice low and steady. “it’s about knowing what we’re up against. i can’t afford to take chances—not with you, not with anyone.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your fists clenching at your sides. “you’re not the caleb i remember,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. the sharp lines of his uniform, the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you—it was almost too much. “i’m not,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “that boy’s gone. at least the part of him that had to change so i could protect you right now. and if you can’t handle that—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly. “just forget it.”

the tension between you crackled like static, the air too heavy to breathe. finally, he exhaled, the sound more controlled than the storm in his eyes. “after the interrogation,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction, “you’ll be free to move around skyhaven. no more confinement.”

you didn’t respond, your throat tight with words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. as if sensing the shift, caleb straightened, his imposing figure softening just slightly as he stepped closer. his expression shifted to something quieter, almost tender.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, comforting tone he used when he wanted you to listen. his flesh hand gently cradled your cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding you, even as you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “you know you can trust me, right? pipsqueak?”

the nickname caught you off guard, tugging at something familiar, something from a time when things felt simpler. you blinked, unsure whether to be annoyed or comforted by the teasing lilt in his voice. “don’t call me that,” you muttered, though your heart wasn’t in it.

you blinked hard, feeling the sting of unshed tears threatening to spill over. your chest tightened as the emotions you’d been trying to bury the last two days clawed their way to the surface. his thumb brushed against your cheek, a quiet, unspoken reassurance.

“look at me,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. when you didn’t, he leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath.

the warmth in his eyes didn’t fade. “stop acting like you don’t trust me,” he said, the teasing edge softening into something more serious. “i know this isn’t easy for you. hell, it’s not easy for me either. but i need you to believe me when i say i’m doing this for us—for you.”

“for me?” you repeated, your voice laced with annoyance as you crossed your arms. “you shouldn’t keep me in the dark like this, caleb. i don’t like it.”

his expression faltered for just a second, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before he straightened again, his bionic arm twitching faintly at his side. “it’s not that i don’t trust you,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh. “it’s that i need to protect you. and sometimes… that means making decisions you’re not going to like.”

you swallowed hard, his words settling heavily in your chest. he reached out then, his human hand brushing lightly against your arm, grounding you with a touch that was more deliberate than casual.

“you know me,” he whispered in your ear, leaning in slightly, his voice so quiet it was almost a secret. “you know i’d never let anything happen to you. you’re the only one i’ve ever been able to count on. don’t forget that, okay?”

after that, caleb took a step away from you, nodding to the team waiting by the door.

“get her ready,” he ordered, his voice carrying that same commanding edge that left no room for argument.

the team ushered you into a side room, where they worked quickly and efficiently to help you change. the uniform they presented was a masterpiece—sleek and custom-fitted, clearly designed to match the style of caleb’s but with details tailored to you. the base was a deep charcoal grey, nearly black, with white, red and gold piping along the seams and shoulders that shimmered faintly in the light. the high collar hugged your neck, its edges trimmed with subtle leather lines.

the fabric was sturdy yet flexible, designed for both movement and protection, while still accentuating your figure with precision. the insignia on the chest was a smaller, more refined version of the fleet’s emblem, embossed in gold. the sleeves bore intricate embroidery that hinted at your stats as a companion, adding a touch of elegance to the otherwise utilitarian design. the boots were polished to perfection, completing the look with a sense of authority and efficiency.

the team handed you the final piece of the uniform—a sleek military-style hat reminiscent of a pilot’s, crafted with the same precision and detail as the rest of the attire. its charcoal-grey base was accented with a polished silver insignia of the fleet, the mark of the deepspace aviation administration that gleamed in the light.

the room buzzed with quiet efficiency as the staff worked around you, their movements quick but deliberate. the space itself was bright and sterile, with sleek metallic walls that reflected the soft hum of machinery. the air carried a faint smell of ozone and disinfectant, underscoring the precision of the environment. each member of the team seemed hyper-focused on their tasks—adjusting a seam here, brushing away an invisible speck of lint there—all while maintaining a level of deference that left you slightly uneasy.

their respect toward you wasn’t forced, but it felt oddly out of place, as if it was more a reflection of caleb’s authority than anything you’d earned. you caught snippets of murmured conversation between them, their glances respectful yet curious, as though they were trying to piece together who you were and why caleb had ordered such meticulous preparation for you.

when they finished, you stepped out into the hall where caleb was waiting. he stood with his back to you, his broad shoulders filling the space, his bionic arm resting at his side.

for a split second you imagined yourself kicking his ass once again and making him fall face first on the floor for the way he’d been avoiding you the last two days. but then you remembered where you were and what you were doing here.

you’re not lying when saying you had spent a few seconds just glancing at his back without his notice. the sharp lines of his uniform only emphasized the commanding presence he carried, making him look every bit the colonel he was. the moment he felt your presence, he turned, his amethyst eyes locking onto you.

for a moment, caleb didn’t say anything. his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, taking in every detail of the uniform. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something deeper—pride, maybe, or something more possessive.

“it fits,” he said finally, his voice low and steady,

“barely,” you replied, attempting to lighten the moment, though the intensity of his stare made your voice falter.

he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. “no,” he said, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “it fits perfectly.”

his eyes swept over you again, lingering just a fraction too long to be casual. “actually,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “it does more than fit. you look…” he paused, tilting his head slightly as if searching for the right word, though the gleam in his eyes told you he already knew. “exceptional.”

you felt heat rise to your cheeks, his compliment catching you off guard. “exceptional?” you echoed, attempting to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight waver. “didn’t think you were the type to throw around fancy words like that, colonel.”

his smirk deepened, the teasing edge in his gaze making your pulse quicken. “i don’t throw them around,” he said smoothly. “only when they’re deserved.”

the way he looked at you made your breath hitch, the weight of his presence making the space between you feel charged. “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the insignia on your chest.

“i did,” he replied simply, his voice dropping even lower. “you’re with me now. they need to see that.” his gaze softened just enough to let a flicker of vulnerability show before it disappeared. “are you ready?”

no, i’m not, you wanted to say, but you doubted your insecurity would make a difference here. you were a hunter on a mission right now, and any false step could lead to your demise and caleb’s plan failing. you hoped he didn’t sense your nervousness, but something told you that you couldn’t hide anything from the man beside you. he always knew how to read you—this part of him resembled zayne a little, though you feared the comparison.

you walked side by side out of the sleeping quarters, your boots echoing softly against the polished floors. the corridor was a stark contrast to the warmth of caleb’s quarters—bright, sterile, and buzzing with activity. as soon as you stepped into view, every officer and soldier below caleb’s rank stopped their tasks, snapping to attention with a crisp salute. the air seemed to shift, charged with an unspoken reverence for the colonel.

the corridor led to an expansive atrium, its vaulted ceiling revealing the full grandeur of skyhaven. the deepspace aviation administration headquarters was a masterpiece of engineering, blending sleek modernity with a palpable sense of purpose. towering support structures arched gracefully overhead, made of an alloy that shimmered faintly under the artificial lighting. expansive observation windows lined the atrium walls, offering a breathtaking view of linkon city far below.

skyhaven itself was an artificial marvel, a massive floating island suspended by an intricate network of protocore technology and magnetic stabilizers. the island wasn’t just a hub for the military—it was a living ecosystem of cutting-edge science and aviation. beneath the steel and glass exterior, skyhaven buzzed with life, housing research centers, training facilities, and state-of-the-art hangars that extended far beyond the viewable limits.

as you glanced out one of the observation windows, a small sigh of relief escaped your lips. linkon city stretched far below, its familiar skyline bathed in the amber glow of the sun. despite everything—your doubts, your fears—there was something comforting about seeing the world from this vantage point. for a moment, you let yourself appreciate the surreal beauty of it, even as caleb’s brisk pace pulled you back into the present.

as you approached the center of the base, the architecture shifted subtly, becoming even more advanced. panels of polished black metal lined the walls, embedded with glowing data streams that flickered in shades of blue and green. interactive holographic displays projected tactical maps, fleet status reports, and complex equations, their light casting faint patterns across the gleaming floor.

caleb led you through a security checkpoint, where biometric scanners and advanced surveillance systems verified your presence. the guards at the station snapped to attention at his approach, their expressions taut with respect. beyond the checkpoint, the central operations hub opened up—a sprawling room filled with tiered workstations and holo-screens that hovered mid-air.

in the heart of the hub stood a group that was unmistakably different. clad in black tactical uniforms, their gear adorned with the subtle insignia of ever, this was the special force. they didn’t salute caleb as the others had; their deference was more subtle, marked by a slight inclination of their heads and a sharp, assessing glance in your direction.

you felt your blood boil as your gaze landed on the emblem stitched into their uniforms—the unmistakable insignia of ever. the sight of it twisted your stomach, bringing back every sleepless night, every unanswered question that had haunted you since josephine’s death. zayne’s reluctant handoff of those cryptic documents had started it all, but it was the whispers of ever that had lingered at the edges of your stay at the N109 zone and your time at the nest that really troubled you.

and now, here they were, not just a name on a paper or a faint memory on onychinus’ air, but living, breathing soldiers standing right in front of you. their presence was as real as the knot forming in your chest.

one of them stepped forward, a woman with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. her voice was calm but firm. “colonel,” she said, her gaze briefly flicking to you. “the team is ready for the briefing. we’ve set up in conference room XO2.”

your gaze darted to caleb, who was speaking with the woman at the forefront of ever’s team. his tone was steady, his expression calm, but to you, it was infuriatingly unreadable. how could he be so composed? how could he stand there, shoulder to shoulder with the people who might have made you both into weapons? your mind raced with fragments of memory and half-formed theories.

caleb’s words echoed in your mind: “we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other.” it was a concept you’d rejected at first, clinging to the idea that you were still whole, just a hunter with a weird heart. but the cracks had started to show. the unnatural resilience, the strange flashes of memory that felt both foreign and familiar, the way caleb’s presence had always felt like a tether. had josephine known? had she always known what you were? was that why she left you those documents, why she’d placed zayne in your path?

as you walked toward the mentioned room, the sound of your boots echoed faintly in the metallic corridor, mingling with the synchronized footsteps of the armed guards flanking you. their presence was suffocating, a living barricade of authority around you. their weapons were sleek and unrelenting.

the corridor opened up into a larger chamber, the entrance marked by a reinforced door flanked by additional guards. their posture was identical to the others, their faces emotionless masks as they stepped aside to let you pass. the door hissed open with a low, mechanical groan, revealing a room that was as starkly advanced as the rest of skyhaven.

as you waited for caleb to acknowledge you, suddenly all of the guards left, leaving only caleb, you and the lady in the room.

caleb gestured for you to take a seat, his voice low but firm. “sit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you hesitated for a fraction of a second, your gaze flicking to him before complying. the grey-haired woman took a seat across from you, her sharp eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

caleb remained standing, his hands resting on the back of the chair beside you. his presence was steady, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. he leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.

"do as you’re told and don’t cause any trouble," he whispered, his voice low and edged with an authority that sent a shiver down your spine. "you won’t get hurt, then."

your body stiffened at his words, your fists curling slightly against the cool surface of the table. despite the sharpness in his tone, there was an undercurrent of something else—something almost protective.

the grey-haired woman—you still didn’t know her name—exchanged a few words with caleb and then rose from her seat completely ignoring you. her heels clicked against the floor as she strode toward the door, her sharp gaze lingering on you for a moment before she exited. you caught the faintest glint of approval in her eyes as she passed. the door hissed shut behind her, leaving you and caleb alone in the room… or so it seemed. you glanced to the side, catching sight of the conference window. she was still there, standing with her arms crossed, her sharp silhouette illuminated by the sterile glow of the room beyond. a microphone sat near her hand, her presence palpable even in her absence.

"if you’re understanding the situation, then let’s go ahead and have a nice chat, right, pipsqueak?” caleb said, straightening and placing his hands on the table. “there’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room and it will be over before you know it". if he was trying to console you, he was doing a terrible job.

the investigation started with stupid questions like what was your name, age and evol. questions about the chronorift catastrophe resurfaced and time dragged slow by the time caleb got to the more important questions. your patience were running thin, asking yourself why was the need of all this bullshit if they wouldn’t explain things to you at the end of the day.

caleb’s monotone tone annoyed you more than anything, but the eyes observing you in this room stopped you from starting a childish banter with the colonel. speaking of eyes, the grey-haired-scary woman kept hers on you the whole time. you could feel her obsession over this ever entity all the way from fucking linkon city. you hated it.

as time passed by, you started to grow restless when he got to ask the questions about granny. it was infuriating the way he was speaking like he wasn’t there the whole time—like he wasn’t the other child that josephine took under her wing.

your anger faltered when caleb reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of papers. the documents slid across the table with a deliberate motion, their edges crisp and yellowed with age. the faint scent of old paper mixed with the sterile tang of the room. “these,” he said, tapping the top of the stack with two fingers, “are her personnel files from ever.”

his words hit like a punch to the gut. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. the room seemed to tilt, and you gripped the edge of the chair to steady yourself.

“what?”, your throat was hoarse from answering all of the stupid questions previously, leaving you with a sense of laziness.

“this is what we were capable of gathering from the ever base, turns out they didn’t questioned why we needed it at all”. his words hung in the air as if taunting you.

“what are you on about, caleb?” the words escaped your lips, hollow and trembling. the honorifics were gone now, discarded the second his eyes shifted toward the grey-haired woman observing from the other room.

“would you at least look at it first?”, his annoyed tone made your blood boil.

“not if you’re going to keep playing me, this is not funny.” even after you said that, his lips quirked into a milimetrical smirk.

“i’m not asking you to jump from the observation deck, pipsqueak, i’m asking you to read our granny’s documents”.

you wanted to laugh—this was absurd. it had to be.

“i don’t have a reason to lie to you, do i?” he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. that infuriating tone of his—it made you want to reach across the table and slap the smugness off his face. how dare he accuse the woman who had raised you, who had raised both of you, of being involved in something as insidious as this entity?

“shut up and stop running in circles!” you shoved the chair back as you stood, the legs screeching against the floor. you leaned forward, eyes locked on his with a fire that demanded answers. “is this a game to you? did i come all the way from linkon city for nothing? you said you would help me.”

“and i am helping you.” caleb’s reply was calm, as if he weren’t phased by your outburst. “this is the truth, princess.”

princess. there it was again—that nickname, so casual and so utterly out of place in a room filled with cold, calculated tension. did no one else find it strange that the colonel of the daa was speaking to you like this? a glance at the observation window confirmed that the grey-haired woman hadn’t moved an inch. her gaze remained fixed, expression unreadable.

what had caleb told her about you? about this? and why in god’s name had you agreed to any of it in the first place?

“Y/N.” his voice snapped through the air, sharp and commanding. he saw the way your legs shifted toward the door, the way your hands twitched with the urge to leave. before you could move, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. the contact wasn’t rough, but the authority in his grip held you in place. his eyes met yours, and for a second, you froze under the weight of that gaze. it was as if the word “behave” was scrawled across his face, an order you couldn’t defy.

why did he need you to believe in things that felt so unexplainable? what was he trying so hard to convince you?

“she was recruited at thirty-one,” caleb continued, as if you weren’t about to leave this place for good instants ago. “straight out of her postdoctoral research in applied quantum mechanics and energy manipulation. she was already making waves in the scientific community, so ever snapped her up for their advanced energy division.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about”. you defended, freeing your hand from his grip and crossing your arms with anger.

“have you never asked yourself why granny didn’t move houses?”, his eyes were fixed on you, the moment charged with unexplained betrayal. still, he didn’t stop there. “she hated that neighborhood and always complained about the kids leaving trash on the sidewalks. still, she never moved. have you never thought about how she was always alone, didn’t had friends, no one visited? how she was able to afford your college? she never spoke about having children and her family never called.”

the rage that had fueled you moments ago was now dulled by confusion. the image of her—your grandmother, your rock—shifted in your mind, colliding with the version caleb was painting. a version you couldn’t reconcile with the woman who used to hum lullabies while baking or press a kiss to your forehead after long days.

but the conviction in caleb’s tone was undeniable, and the papers lying between you were a damning testament to something you weren’t ready to face.

hesitant, you reached for the documents, your fingers trembling. the top page bore a formal header: EVER CORPORATION - PERSONNEL DOSSIER: DR. JOSEPHINE. below it, a photograph of your grandmother stared back at you, her sharp features framed by neatly pinned hair and a lab coat adorned with various badges of rank.

you scanned the documents, words like chief research officer and project architect leaping out at you. “she was the head scientist?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

fucking hell. this was impossible.

“not just head scientist,” caleb said. “she was promoted to director of advanced energy systems by thirty-five. she oversaw the development of key protocore technologies before spearheading project aether. these reports,” he gestured to the papers, “detail her work in bioenergetics, quantum harmonics, and adaptive energy matrices. she didn’t just design the aether core—she built the framework that made it possible.”

he made a pause to glance at you. you felt his eyes on you, heavy with meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop reading the details in front of you. every line on the page chipped away at the foundation of what you thought you knew.

“i know this because we used to work together.” the words sliced through the sterile air, shattering the fragile barrier between your disbelief and the truth he was forcing on you. there it was again—an unexplainable revelation that felt shattering and wrong.

what was that again?

your hands froze, trembling slightly as the paper slipped from your grasp. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded into nothing. the hat was off his head now, his fluffy hair slightly mussed as if this moment required something more personal, more vulnerable. it didn’t match the clinical coldness of the room or the gaze of the grey-haired woman observing from the corner. it felt intimate, despite the invasive presence lurking just behind the glass.

“what is that supposed to mean?”, your heart was beating like crazy, you could feel the vibrations thrumming through your ears. “i don’t… i don’t believe you”.

“she recruited me to take care of you.” his voice was quieter now, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something raw in his expression. empathy, maybe. or guilt. it was enough to make him look away, his gaze dropping to the papers spread between you. “as an experiment.”

his words hung in the air like a loaded weapon. the tingling sensation that ran down your spine turned into a full-body shiver. your breath hitched, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. your throat tightened as the weight of what he was saying settled in, suffocating and relentless.

“impossible. granny wasn’t a woman on a mission, she was…”, you gulped, “she was intelligent and kind.”

the room spinned, your breath hitched. again, the situation was sadly laughable. were those times you dreamed about blood, about a life that didn’t seem to belong to you all real? were they fragments of your memory? weren’t they just coincidences?

gods, how were you so stupid? how did you never think about this?

“was all of this ever all along?” you muttered, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. the room felt too small, the air too stifling. your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and for a fleeting moment, you wanted to punch something, anything. it felt childish, but the frustration boiling in your chest demanded release.

“why would she hide this?” your voice cracked as you spoke, trembling with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “why wouldn’t she tell me?”

you didn’t see a reason to keep this from you. from your life. would you even know about this if you never blindly agreed to show your face in the nest that day? how could something so enormous not make itself accidentally aware throughout one’s whole life?

and how could you be so stupidly blind? what were you, a child?

caleb’s gaze softened slightly. “because she knew what ever would do if they thought you were a threat at that time. she hid the truth to protect you, but in doing so, she left you vulnerable. and now, we’re all paying the price.”

“protecting me?” you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief. “how is lying to me, hiding everything, supposed to protect me? she left me completely blind!”

you were so angry. angry at yourself, angry at the woman who raised you, angry at caleb for not telling you, angry even at fucking zayne for handling you those documents from you. he probably also had secrets about your heart’s condition that he never talked about.

how could anyone possibly hide something like this from you? weren’t they your friends?

how did betrayal felt so bitter and deserving at the same time?

“you were a kid, Y/N,” caleb said, his voice calm but laced with an edge of frustration, as though he were trying to reason with a storm.

“so were you!” you snapped, the words sharp and cutting. the knot of anger and betrayal in your chest tightened, spreading like fire through your veins. “you never… did you never think about how i would feel? god, caleb.”

caleb leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers interlocking as he spoke. “she left you blind because she knew they were watching. she couldn’t risk them finding out how much she cared about you, how far she was willing to go to shield you. the second they saw you as a threat—or as leverage—everything she’d done would have been for nothing.”

his words settled over you like a heavy fog, dense and suffocating. you wanted to reject them, to push back against the idea that your grandmother—the woman who had been your everything—had willingly kept you in the dark about a past so entwined with danger.

“did she fucking planned her death as well? did she know about the explosion that day?”. you were practically raging now, venom laced with hurt spitting from your mouth as your body leaned over the table, trying to make caleb snap you back into reality. why was he telling you all of these nonsense?

“she asked me to end her the moment she posed a threat to you. she didn’t know about the explosion, i didn’t tell her.” his low tone showed a masked hurt that almost offended you.

oh, you were so pissed.

“so, what?” you said. “she let them turn me into this… thing? this experiment? and then she just… left?”

“she didn’t just leave. she stayed in their system as long as she could, long enough to set things in motion for you to have a chance of surviving. she made choices that no one should ever have to make, and she paid for them.” your eyes watered and your chest tightened.

“do i really have a chance?” you asked, your voice trembling as you pointed toward the grey-haired woman standing beyond the glass. “isn’t she from ever? what are you doing with these people, caleb? heavens, i can’t even understand you anymore.”

his face didn’t change immediately, but his shoulders seemed to tense, the weight of your words pressing down on him. when he spoke, his voice was low, steady. “josephine told me everything,” he began, his gaze dropping to the table for just a moment. “right after i turned old enough to understand what it all meant. she didn’t just tell me—she made me promise.”

“promise what?!” your voice cracked, and the anger that had been simmering inside you surged again, fueled by the sharp sting of treachery.

“to protect you,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, as though each one was a confession. “she used me, Y/N. she knew what was going to happen. she knew what they’d try to do to you, what they’d use you for. and she… she made me a part of her plan.”

“her plan?” you echoed, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air. “what plan, caleb? because from where i’m standing, all i see is a mess she left for me to clean up.”

his jaw tightened, and he finally looked back at you, his amethyst eyes sharp but filled with something raw and unspoken. “it wasn’t just her plan. it became mine too. i let her use me, Y/N, because i thought—i hoped—it would mean you’d never have to deal with this. i thought i could handle it for both of us.”

“and what?” you snapped, leaning forward as your frustration boiled over. “you just decided for me? you and her both?”

“i didn’t decide for you,” he shot back, his voice rising for the first time, though his control quickly reined it in. “i decided to protect you. there’s a difference.”

“why would you do that?” you asked, your voice quieter now but no less cutting. “because it feels like all both of you did was trap me in this endless nightmare.”

caleb’s patience snapped. you saw the moment it happened—something dark flickered behind his eyes, replacing the calm exterior he’d been holding onto. without warning, he rose from his chair, the scrape of metal against the floor echoing through the room. before you could react, his hands slammed down on the table on either side of you, caging you in with his sheer presence.

he leaned over you, his frame engulfing yours entirely. his proximity forced you backward, the cool surface of the table pressing against your spine as you arched slightly to meet his gaze. the shift in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine—not fear, but something far more complicated. his presence was suffocating, his intensity overwhelming, and yet you couldn’t look away.

if anyone entered the room now, they wouldn’t even know you were there, hidden entirely behind his broad frame. he was close—too close—and every inch of him radiated authority and tension.

you still felt anger pulse inside you. even with his figure towering over you, you stared right back into his eyes, daring him to explain. but caleb wasn’t waiting for your permission to speak—his words spilled out, sharp and unrelenting, as though he’d been holding them in for far too long.

“you can scream all you want, princess,” he began, his voice dangerously low but cutting, “but i’m not letting you blame the woman who gave me the chance of loving you for something she regretted every day of her life until the day she died.” his eyes burned into yours, daring you to interrupt, but you stayed silent, your breath caught in your throat.

“she designed the aether core,” he continued, the words bitter, as if they left a bad taste in his mouth, “but she didn’t know it was going to be put in a fucking child. she told me that. she swore it to me.” his voice cracked slightly, a rare vulnerability slipping through before he pressed on.

“she would never partake in something so inhuman and cruel if she’d known about it,” he said, his tone hardening again. “when she realized what they were doing—what you were—she made a choice. she could’ve run and left us behind, but she didn’t do that.” his gaze softened for a brief moment before his jaw tightened. “she took us with her.”

his next words struck you like a blow. “ever knew the potential the aether core had. so they created an antidote. me.”

the silence that followed was deafening, his confession hanging heavy in the air between you. your heart raced, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not yet.

“before i even knew you, princess, our destinies were bound,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “we were never meant to be anything else—two halves of a cruel design, bound together by ruthless people driven by intense power.”

he leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. “when she told me everything, when i finally understood, i made a choice. i sacrificed myself to continue the fucking experiments ever wanted me to participate, so no one else in this world would have the capacity to destroy you other than me.” he straightened, his tone heavy with finality. “only me.”

you heard your own hiccup as if it were from somene else.

"kirsten was her colleague," caleb said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency. "she also left the project behind when things got heated. since then, they’ve been trying to capture you. she was the one who handed me these documents." he gestured toward the stack of papers, his gaze flicking briefly to the woman observing you from beyond the glass. "grandma trusted her."

your surprise was impossible to hide. your eyes darted to the woman, her stoic presence now layered with a significance you hadn’t grasped until this moment.

"we both are trying to find a way to protect you," caleb continued, his tone firm. "and infiltrating ever is the first step to do that. we need to gather as much information we can and gain their trust so we can take them down and their fucking crazy plan of interstellar domination."

oh fuck, they wanted the aether core for that?

he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "do you understand it now, pipsqueak?" his voice softened at the nickname, but the weight of his words lingered, pressing into the space between you.

the room seemed to shrink as the truth settled over you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and cold. your chest tightened, and before you realized it, tears began streaming down your face, silent but relentless. you hadn’t even noticed them falling until caleb stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache even more.

his hands cupped your cheeks, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your skin as he tried to wipe the tears away.

“do you understand how i need you to live, princess?” caleb’s voice cracked, raw with emotion, tugging at strings in your heart you didn’t even realize were there. “i love you so much, you have no idea the limits i’d go to prove it to you.”

his words settled over you like a tempest, leaving you breathless and trembling. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, every syllable laced with unrelenting devotion and a darkness that both frightened and comforted you. you felt so dangerously cherished, as though his love could burn the world down if it meant keeping you safe.

the worst part? you could say you felt the same.

his grip on your face tightened, not painfully but with a firm desperation, his calloused thumbs brushing away the lingering wetness on your cheeks. his eyes softened as they held yours, the fierceness in them giving way to something almost pleading.

“if you want me to beg, i’ll fucking beg you, princess. if you want me on my knees, i’ll do it. just stay here with me where i can see you.” he whispered, his voice barely audible but impossibly steady, his tone dropped so low it was almost a growl, the sound vibrating through the air and sinking deep into your chest. his jaw tightened, the sharp angles of his face accentuated by the tension coiling in his body.

why did his love felt so crushing?

his hands stayed on your face, grounding you, but his grip was firm, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. his eyes, dark and stormy, searched yours, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“why are you doing this to me?” you finally whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of his confession. “why do you care so much?” the question felt sacred, as if it wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud, but you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

his jaw tightened, his hands still cupping your face as his eyes locked onto yours. for a moment, he didn’t speak, as though the answer was too heavy, too raw to give voice to.

“did they hurt you, caleb?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “in those experiments?”

your clenched fists, tight with anger and frustration, slowly dissolved into something softer. the tension in your body ebbed away, leaving only the raw ache in your chest. before you could second-guess yourself, your hands moved on their own, rising to his face. your fingertips brushed against his jaw, tentative at first, before settling into a gentle caress.

“they can hurt me all they want,” caleb said, his voice low and raw, each word cutting through the air like a blade. “as long as they keep their distance from you, i’ll endure it. i’d end myself if it meant that you would never be hurt again.”

his gaze bore into yours, fierce and unrelenting, yet there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest ache. it wasn’t just desperation—it was devotion, the kind that threatened to drown you in its intensity.

“they can’t control my evol anymore, their plan of the antidote backfired” caleb said, his voice vulnerable as if only talking about that chamber already caused him agony. “that’s why they’re scared. the last neural control experiment—the zero gravity chamber was destroyed because the machines couldn’t handle it. they wanted to transform me into a robot, somehow my mind never cooperated”. his gaze averted to the emblem on your chest.

you swallowed hard, his words sinking into your brain like lead. “aren’t we a danger to each other, caleb?” you asked, your voice trembling, hiccups breaking through as tears streaked your face. you were scared. “am i capable of hurting you? do i… isn’t it dangerous if we stay together?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his gaze unwavering and intense. “if there’s anyone in this world i’d let hurt me, it’s you, princess,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead as he did when you were both kids. and then his tone shifted into something darker, almost obsessive. “i don’t fucking care what you do to me, you can hurt me all you want if that makes you fucking happy. don’t you understand?”

“don’t say that…” you murmured, trying to avert your gaze, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment and suffocation.

he smirked, a sharp, knowing curve of his lips as his thumb brushed another tear from your cheek. “i want to create a world where it’s just the two of us,” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper that sent shivers racing down your spine.

his bionic hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the unyielding strength of his hold making your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, so close his lips nearly brushed your ear. “just say the word, and i’ll do it,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending your mind spinning. “i’ll end everything. you know that.”

“caleb…” you murmured, your palms pressing gently against his chest, trying to create even the smallest bit of distance between you. “i thought you had gone crazy.” your voice trembled as you looked up at him, the weight of his intensity still bearing down on you. “i’m sorry you had to endure that… because of me.” your breaths came quickly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “i… i still think you’re crazy, though.”

a flicker of amusement crossed his face, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“but… what do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your thoughts spinning wildly. “do they know you brought me here?”.

“all of the personnel outside is from ever, they think i’m convincing you to willingly participate in the project. make you turn into some kind of sacrifice for humanity. bullshit.” just saying it out loud seemed painful for him, and hearing it sounded even more crazy.

“they wanted to start everything straight away, test the energy of the aether core inside of you before we could even talk. i convinced them to let me handle you, that’s why i can’t let you leave skyhaven for now.” he sounded almost guilty when saying those words, waiting patiently for your reaction so he could be deemed innocent.

“so i am your hostage, basically?”, something akin to amusement surged in your face, dried tears staining your rosy cheeks.

“that depends if you are willing to cooperate, just say the word and i’ll fly us across west coast immediately.” his gaze made you feel the most heartbroken and cherished woman in the world. cruel. “i don’t plan to stay here forever”.

“what about kirst—” your words stopped abruptly as realization struck you like a lightning bolt. your eyes widened as your breath hitched in your throat. “oh my fucking god, caleb, kirsten!”

panic surged through you, and you shoved him back with far more force than you intended, as if he were suddenly contagious. your cheeks burned hot as your gaze darted toward the observation room. you could feel every beat of your heart hammering against your ribs.

from where you stood, the glass gave an impeccable view of everything that had transpired. your stomach churned as you imagined what she might have seen, what conclusions she might have drawn. but as your eyes landed on the empty chair, your confusion deepened. kirsten wasn’t there.

“where… where did she go?” you stammered, your embarrassment morphing into unease. “wasn’t she just—she was right there!” you pointed toward the glass, your voice climbing an octave.

“jesus, when did you become so strong, pipsqueak?” caleb muttered, his tone equal parts stunned and impressed as he steadied himself. the few inches you’d managed to push him away seemed to amuse him more than anything else, his eyes glinting with an undeniable sense of pride.

“caleb, kirsten!” you exclaimed, pointing toward the observation room with wide, exasperated eyes. “did she see us? oh my god, she might think i’m a whore!”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “c’mon, pipsqueak, don’t push it,” he said, his voice calm and teasing as he stepped forward. “i bet she understands. we were made for each other, after all.” his tone turned deliberately corny, and you could feel your cheeks burning like they were on fire again.

“don’t say that!” you snapped, mortified, as he tried to close the gap you’d created between you. you quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him, your glare sharp. “don’t touch me, you perv!”

caleb smirked, his amusement only growing at your reaction. “are you seriously worried about an 70-year-old woman judging you right now?” he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief, “after the life or death situation we just discussed?”

“you can’t keep saying these things to a woman…” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you stubbornly ignored the look caleb was giving you. you kept the distance between you, maintaining the few inches of air.

“things? what things?” he teased, his tone light and playful, though his eyes held that familiar mischievous glint.

you groaned, feeling the heat creep back up your neck. “like… like you’re going to die for me! you asked for a custom-made uniform for me just like yours, do you know what this looks like for other people? and that thing you said about being on your knees? jesus…” you stammered, your words tangling over each other as your embarrassment grew. “you shouldn’t say those things in moments like this!”

caleb’s lips curved into a slow smirk, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “i want them to look at you and remember who you’re with,” he murmured. “do you want me to prove it?”

your eyes widened in horror as you saw him begin to shift, his knees bending slightly as though he were actually going to kneel in front of you.

“oh my god, caleb. get up! my god!” you hissed, your hands flying out to stop him before he could make good on his teasing. your gaze darted toward the window and the door, nerves prickling at the thought of someone walking in and witnessing this absurd scene.

caleb, meanwhile, was practically doubled over in laughter, clearly finding your panic far too amusing. “i’ll keep that in mind,” he said between chuckles, his tone teasing as ever. “you don’t like things in public, princess. noted.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snapped, your voice climbing a few octaves in your exasperation. your hands flew up to cover your face, both to hide your flaming cheeks and to block out the infuriating sight of his grin. “oh my god…”

caleb’s laughter only grew louder at your reaction, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “relax, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice still laced with amusement. “i’m just saying I’ll keep it private next time.”

next time? sweet heavens.

you glared at him, your cheeks burning hotter than ever. “you still haven’t told me your plan, it’s time we get out of here, they will start getting suspicious,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering embarrassment.

“oh, don’t worry, baby. they know they’re dead if they interrupt us”.

despite his infuriating smirks and relentless teasing, you couldn’t deny the way caleb’s presence steadied something deep within you—a part of yourself that had always felt untethered, incomplete. there was a gravity to him—oh the irony of it all—, an unshakable certainty in his actions, even when everything else around you felt like chaos. the pieces of your past, fragmented and jagged, were beginning to fall into place.

as you stared at his grin right now, you asked yourself if it would be the right time to confess your feelings for him since childhood. he knew you loved him, but you still wanted to say those three little words.

you hated how much you didn’t want to believe him, but there was no escaping the truth: caleb had always been there, weaving himself into the fabric of your life in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now.

“i trust you, caleb. with my life.”

the words felt heavier than you’d anticipated, and for a moment, the air between you shifted. you watched as his expression changed, his playful smirk fading into something more serious. his gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the way your confession hit him, sharp and profound, like it was a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands.

but how could you not? how could you not trust the man when just being near him brought a peace that felt almost childlike—a fleeting memory of safety you hadn’t realized you’d lost? when every sacrifice he made screamed of a love so consuming it defied logic, a love that compelled him to climb through military ranks with a single-minded determination, as if his very existence depended on it? he spent his days training, his nights planning, and his rare moments of respite killing parts of himself, carving away his own humanity, all to try and make you feel whole.

your life had been in his hands from the very beginning, cradled by the will of a man whose obsession burned brighter than any protocore, whose evol bent not to power but to the unrelenting need to love you.

caleb’s love was a force of nature, raw and unyielding, and even if it frightened you, even if it left you reeling, you couldn’t deny the truth of it: it was the only constant in a world that had always sought to tear you apart.

caleb’s love made you shiver. and for some reason, you didn’t mind that at the moment.

“me and kirsten already have a plan,” he said finally, his voice quieter but laced with determination, glancing at the watch displayed in the hologram behind you. “i’ll tell you everything when we’re completely alone. i promise.”

honestly? right now you just wanted to kiss the man in front of you stupid and spill all your love on him. the love you have felt since your first time playing kitty cards with him and kissing each other’s cheeks as kids.

but you were quickly reminded of where you were when you glanced at the door and stared at the daa emblem painted on it. you felt like a wreck of emotions.

the change in scenery left you gasping for air as caleb slowly guided you out of the conference room. the ever personnel not even blinking as you and the colonel passed through them.

your eyes darted around, searching for something familiar, something real to ground you amidst the mess of revelations swimming in your mind. part of you hoped to see kirsten, her sharp eyes and scary aura a strange kind of reassurance in the chaos. but when the grey-haired woman was nowhere to be seen, a small, unexpected wave of relief washed over you.

maybe it was better this way. maybe you weren’t ready to face her yet—not after everything caleb had told you, not when the weight of your own memories, or lack thereof, felt like an anchor dragging you down.

you stared at linkon city sprawling below skyhaven, the glittering lights painting an intricate mosaic against the inky darkness of dawn. from the observation decks you walked over, the city looked almost surreal, a world that felt both achingly familiar and impossibly distant. something tugged at your chest—a dull ache of nostalgia—at the thought of your childhood home hidden somewhere within those shimmering lights.

the tech center that skyhaven was, with its seamless blend of towering glass structures and advanced machinery humming quietly around you, filled you with a strange sense of innocence. as though everything you’d endured until this day could be set aside as a different life of yours.

wasn’t this exactly what the core inside of you was? so powerful it could transcend planets, weaving its influence across time and space—capable of creating not just miracles but catastrophes?

weren't you a walking human weapon? haven't you always been one?

your thoughts were interrupted by caleb gesturing toward his room, his tone calm as he said he’d finish up and spend the rest of the day with you. you barely registered the words, too lost in the whirlwind of your mind to notice how the two of you had already made your way back to his quarters.

just as he turned to leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand instinctively. the touch froze him in place, his eyes immediately locking onto yours in his chambers. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. would it sound strange to admit you didn’t want to be alone? to confess that you were scared?

caleb stepped closer, his presence grounding you like a warm tether against the cold, sterile hallway outside his room. “you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice quiet, gentle. it wasn’t a question so much as an acknowledgment of the weight you carried. he grabbed your hand on his.

you nodded, your grip tightening slightly on his hand. “it’s just… too much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “to think something so small—something inside me—has the power to destroy so much. reshape worlds. ruin lives. it fucking terrifies me, caleb.”

he didn’t answer right away, but his silence felt steady, unhurried. his thumb brushed lightly against the back of your hand, a simple gesture, but one that somehow made it easier to breathe.

“listen to me,” he said, his voice low, steady. “you’re allowed to be scared. no one’s asking you to shoulder this alone. not me, not anyone.”

you nodded, your throat tight with emotion, as he squeezed your hand gently. “i’ll just go fix some things, and i’ll be right back, okay? i’m not leaving you alone anymore.”

his words struck something deep within you, a vulnerability you’d tried so hard to keep buried. you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, wondering why you were so emotional today.

“promise me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. was it selfish? probably. but at this point, you didn’t care. caleb cared about you—loved you, even—and you were done pretending you didn’t need him.

his lips curved into a soft smile, one that held more warmth than his usual teasing grins. he leaned in slightly, his gaze steady and full of affection. “i promise,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your heart stutter.

you watched his back turn to you after he left another kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it lingering long after he stepped away.

maybe the betrayal would fade someday, its sharp edges dulled by time and the quiet moments like this that he gifted you. or maybe it wouldn’t. maybe the wound would remain, a reminder of everything he had done to you—and for you.

but even now, as you stood there watching him walk away, you couldn’t deny the part of yourself that clung to what he had done. the part of you that loved him for it, no matter how much you tried to resist.

after all, you were his since the beginning.

author's notes: tell me i didn't ruined this halfway bc that is what i felt when i was finishing it. next chapter they will be doing the woompakoompa so buckle up (i just hope it doesn't turn into a 20k words smut scene) lord help me. i'll cry if nobody comments below because my week's sanity was poured into this work. just kidding (i'm not), i love you freaky caleb girlies, see you next time, xo.

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saeun · 8 months ago

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food for thought, except it’s unwanted jujutsu kaisen : fem-reader.

have you ever wondered about a scenario so much that you must ask? well that’s exactly the last thing they’d wish to answer.

+ love ‘su: gojo, geto, itadori + ‘live, laugh, love’ hater final boss ( sukuna )

gojo satoru ﾉ refuses to answer.

“do you ever think about how it’d be if we never met?”

“ha— no. don’t even go there.”

satoru stops you there. he doesn’t wish to hear another word from you— especially if it extends your former question. he thinks about it— daily, in fact. it's a scenario that crosses his mind whenever he finds himself drunk on the temporary love he receives from you.

you’ve sung the lyric ‘i’ll love you until there’s no more left’ almost every week for him, silently begging that he gets the concept of genuine love through his head.

“why not? imagine if my friends didn’t make that bet where i either hit on you or pay for the night.” you reminisced, remembering the very night you lost the last touch of shame.

he hums, drumming his fingers on your thigh.

“bet or not, we’d still be fated to meet. next question!”

“anddd what makes you so confident?” you threw another question at him. this time, it's lighthearted.

“mind you, i’m the second coming of an angel. i predetermined this since three years ago.”

glances were exchanged, an expression of a grinning fool met the expression of a glaring responsible person who’s the said fool’s other romantic half.

you should've been familiar with satoru’s ways. it’s your fault for expecting a deep-dive conversation with satoru. not quite his cup of tea!

geto suguru ﾉ expects it and tries to escape.

suguru's home was no new, unexplored area to you. you knew his home's blueprint like the back of your hand. if needed, you'd walk through his home blindfolded and still end up in the room you want to be in.

this isn't a good thing to suguru. there are days where the feeling of confusion as to who he is piles up on him, leading him to isolate himself.. until he forgets there's a spare key of his isolation cube in your hold so now the plan goes awry.

that is exactly what’s happening. after he sent the text ‘k bye’ and silenced his notifications, he felt an impending doom. the reason was unknown by then but he should've guessed it was you.

you marched into his home, readying yourself with suguru-loneliness-begone techniques and, of course, the question that's been wandering your mind since you woke up from a dream.

“babe, what if—”

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, too exhausted to put a hand over your mouth.

“what if we were the last persons on earth? would you recreate humanity with me or kill yourself?”

there it is: your special ‘what if’ questions that know no bounds when it comes to absurdity.

“when would that ever happen? please, stop this,” he groans, pleading with his eyes for you to stop.

“that's the thing— you never know! so, what option is it?”

“i'd kill myself a long time ago if possible.”

“so it's the second one?”

“i'm... not cut out to be a good father.”

“i hate an indecisive bitch, my goodness,” it's your turn to complain, a little let down at his grey answers.

suguru's equally offended. you're the one who jumped him with such a question— who even thinks about that?!

“(y/n), baby, has it ever crossed your mind that your thinking skills aren't quite normal?”

“are you calling me stupid?!”

itadori yuuji ﾉ just as stupid.

it's mango season— yuuji's most anticipated season of the year. mangoes are to yuuji what your lipbalm is to you. a necessity, a survival item, a lifesaver, an important part of his lore, something he worships.

peeling mangoes and slicing them to equal pieces has never brought him such satisfaction before. it immediately brightens his mood. this must be how his grandfather felt whenever he took a walk around the neighbourhood.

now you appear, yuuji's second most anticipated person. you to yuuji is what mangoes are to him. this causes yuuji's current happiness level to reach its peak today. such a great level of happiness can defeat any evil being with just being in its area.

“say, yuu,” you begin, stabbing one of the mangoe slices with a fork.

he nods, signalling that he's listening but still focused on his current activity. a true mulit-tasker.

“if one of your limbs happen to detach from your body, do you feel the pain or does the pain go with it?”

he stops, allowing the question to sink in. he's never been asked such a.. divine question before. what's the answer? does the pain go with the limb or does it stay?

“oh... i gotta ask nobara this, she'd know,” he suggests, placing the knife down. a question that'll haunt him if he doesn't act quick for the answer.

“yes, yes!!” you encourage his actions, mindlessly enjoying the mango slices. mangoes are truly a blessing.

sukuna ryomen ﾉ no. nice try, though! A+ for effort.

“ryo, have you ever wondered if—”

“no, i never.”

“you didn't even let—”

“i haven't learnt since two-thousand years ago.”

“you old fuck, let me finish—”

“it's truly been a while since i've wondered.”

“DAMN, BITCH!”

you threw the remote at him, ultimately fed up with him cutting you off before the peak of the sentence. it could've been the question of the year and he'd still dodge it.

sukuna invited himself over since he ran out of entertainment options and you're always there for him. unfortunately, you do not find him as entertainin. he's annoying, arrogant, and attractive so it cancels out the negatives about him.

of course, sukuna caught the remote. his athletic capabilities are its prime despite him being dormant for centuries. it'd be a white lie to say he's not interested in your question, however it is way more benefitting to push your buttons.

he throws the remote back onto your bed, drying his hands with your hand-towel before making his merry way to you.

“your bed's small.”

“well no shit. it's for ME.”

“you mad? you look mad.” his hand holds your chin, turning your head side-to-side to observe your expression.

you rolled your eyes, “i don't get mad that easily.”

“is this how people felt when i told them an obvious lie? i should repent.”

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carolmunson · 1 year ago

Text

the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

#eddie munson smut #dom!eddie munson #daddydom!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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cross-crye · 8 months ago

Text

𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰

summary: twst & hsr charas with different soulmate au prompts that i think would fit them

incl: azul ashengrotto, idia shroud, malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, aventurine, blade, jing yuan, sunday

wc: 0.9k

a/n: after an absolutely horrific year i'm finally back to writing!! got half a lifetime's worth of lore in what is essentially 2/3 of a school year lol. but hey at least i got some new lore, so what better way to celebrate that then writing abt my fave au?

monochrome vision

Even the most powerful of beings weren't immune to the effects of the passage of time. After spending such a longevous existence in solitude, enduring loss after loss at every step of the way, he becomes resigned to the notion of forever living in a grey-scale world. Perhaps he wasn’t meant for such luxuries. Perhaps he was one of the unlucky few who was condemned to a live barren of companionship and deeper meaning. He could only wonder in the late hours of the night, or in the lonely moments trapped within his own mind while sitting at his desk: ‘Just what sins have I committed in a past life in order to earn this karma?’ Imagine his surprise upon upon realising that perhaps he wasn’t fated for eternal despair and desolation, and that perhaps, he himself had a chance to experience true joy. As colours bloomed in front of his eyes for the first time in his life, one so long others would struggle to count it, all he could think was that perhaps it had truly all been worth it as he gazed at you, forever ingraining the details of your visage deep inside his memory, to be forever treasured as the face of his saviour.

lilia vanrogue; jing yuan

matching tattoos

Wearing long sleeves, covering up despite the less than optimal weather for such attire, developing and maintaining a preference for the indoors as soon as the temperatures start to rise; anything to keep that damned mark hidden away. If nobody sees it, it doesn’t exist. If nobody can spot it and remark a similarity, then its not there. As long as he can keep hiding the mark, he can keep denying the existence of his soulmate. To bear a curse such as his is an already horrific fate, he couldn’t allow himself burden anyone else with it. It was like a plague, it would only continue to spread and affect others, drag them down to the depths of despair; and for what? He couldn’t let his feeble desire for companionship be the reason somebody else lost their humanity. Yet when he found himself doubting his philosophy after bandaging your cut shoulder blades (curtsy of having fallen into a thorny thicket on your earlier walk that he begrudgingly joined you on) Spotting the familiar mark on you was something he hadn’t ever expected. His companion and dear friend had been his soulmate all along, a shocking revelation which had caused him to impulsively lift his own sleeves and point to the matching pair.

blade, idia shroud

interacting within dreams

That’s what you were to him, a dream. Something he could only long for and yearn with the entirety of his soul yet fail to reach every time he tried. Despite not having even see your face due to the dream’s magic, your presence was deeply ingrained in his heart. He had envisioned you so many times, imagined what you’d look like, wondering if you’d look as beautiful as you sounded. You would overtake every waking moment, for his dreams were no longer enough, he would daydream about you, and play your voice in his mind on loop, all he desired was to suffocate in your presence and truly surround him in a way his dreams of you never could. He memorised everything about you, from what you mentioned to eat for breakfast to your aspirations and moral philosophy. If simply thinking of you hard enough would have brought you to life, you would have been born anew countless times. He could only live on in a prison of longing of his own making, every moment increasing his desperation to finally meet you and escape his mediocre existence. His obsession ran so deep he could perfectly render your voice in his head and hear you talk to him of thinks you hadn’t yet said. He thought he’d finally driven himself mad with yearning, hearing your voice while awake even when he hadn’t been the one to picture it, only to turn to see you for the first time, the image of perfection that even he couldn’t have dreamt, finally complete.

malleus draconia, sunday

countdown until first meeting

The little wristwatch was what kept him going, seeing the numbers go down was his motivation to go on, giving himself a purpose despite his lack of one in others’ eyes. Knowing that out there there was somebody who could truly understand him, who could see his worth and achievements in light of his struggle. Early on he had been victim of the critique and ridicule, but the hope of one person’s existence in contrary to this fuelled him to keep going. To strive to be better, to do something better with the unfortunate cards he was dealt. What worth other’s pinned on him no longer mattered, and as long as the ever-changing numbers on his wrist would continue to decrease he’d continue to prove the world wrong about their initial perception of him. All his life’s work amounted to this, the fateful meeting with who was supposed to be his one true love. As he continued down the winding streets of the town he could only anxiously stare at his wrist, taking note of the handful of hours left. His distracted state however, lead to him making the wrong turn and the counter adjust itself, not even letting him take in the shock of seeing that it had now only read a couple of seconds as he immediately collided into somebody, gripping the stranger’s shoulders to maintain his stability. Neither of you processed the beeping sound of your timers as you gazed in each other eye’s awestruck at finally meeting your soulmate.

aventurine, azul ashengrotto

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

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minnie-cai · 4 months ago

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I had a dream of sleeping over nerd!Arts dorm room, it was storming outside and he refused to let me go walk out on my own I was on hid bed and he was working on something hes reading a book with his glasses low on his nose and was only in a white shirt and sweats where his junk was almost out. I was so horny I just straddled his lap and started going crazy, he ended up shoving my face against his pillow pounding me from behind fucking me while he kept his glasses on <3

𝑰 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵 “𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬” !

that’s so crazy i actually had the exact same dream last night so here’s something i wrote about OUR dream

not proofread, bless your eyes, it’s 2 am and my eyes are basically shut.

rating ; mature. smut. it’s smut. leave if you’re a minor. or don’t. i can’t stop you. actually i can. i will find you. and take away your phone.

oh nerdy!art my beloved, where he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met and he’s stumbling over his tongue awkwardly as he tries to flirt with you but it turns out his tongue was made for bigger things.

and it’s so weird the first time you fuck because you fall next to him on the mattress, out of breath, sweaty and high on orgasms and suddenly, all you had heard about nerdy guys being good in bed was confirmed.

you start dating, he holds your hand around campus sweetly and all of your friends love him. you’d heard the lore of all of tolkien’s writing at least a hundred times as you played with his hair but you’d hear it thousands if he asked. you give him head under his desk as he does your assignment for you and he cums all over his thighs and panics, rushing trying to find a towel or a dirty t-shirt as he babbles apologies and squirms because he hasn’t even properly finished yet.

after a few months of dating, it’s totally casual and normal for you to stay over at his single dorm after you’ve complained about how annoying your roommate was, under the condition, of course, that you’d let him study when he needs to. you promised.

you were lying in his bed, wearing a hoodie he’d lend you after you’d softly fucked with the rain pattering on the window. you pouted and twisted the fabric of the sweater in boredom. art was sweet, sure. he’d made you finish first like a gentleman, cleaned you up and dressed you but you just found it so annoying that he managed to move on to studying right after sex. you stared at him and stared and stared as he sat in his chair, his foot resting on the desk as he read a book he was assigned with his lips lightly agape and his round glasses low on his nose.

the grey sweats he’d thrown on quickly after he got out of bed being a size down from his normal one, giving you the great view that was the outline of his semi-hard cock.

as you’re thinking and just admiring him, you hear him sniff and he swallows, his adam’s apple bopping with the movement. and suddenly, yet again, your panties are wet. what is this boy doing to you?

“artie….” you mewl gently from the bed, your legs twisting under the sheets as you try not to press your thighs together. “is it gonna take long?”

“i wanted to finish at least two chapters by class tomorrow, why?” he mumbles as he moves on to the next page, licking his fingers so that the paper doesn’t stick together but the only thing you can think of is him licking his fingers and playing with your clit as he mumbles compliments against your collarbone.

“nothing… just a bit bored…” you respond as you start to stand up but he just hums, not looking up from his book. when you reach his chair and lean against the back of it with your elbows, moving your fingers to run through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, his head falls back against your chest and he lets out a breathy grunt.

when you moved to straddle his lap, that was his last straw. “you’re kidding…” he mumbles in a soft but raspy voice with a sweet smile when you roll your hips against him. his glasses threatening to fall off his nose and his curls falling messily on his forehead, times like these is when you really take a look at him and realize how gorgeous he is, like he’s trapped a ray of sun inside his eyes.

“huh?” you giggle, almost breaking this innocent character you’d built up. “i don’t know what you mean.” you shake your head with a gentle smirk and furrowed eyebrows, your eyes narrowing as you try your hardest to look confused and hold back your laugh.

��oh you don’t? oh really?” he says with an amused laugh and raised eyebrows. “i- yeah?- rea- really?” he starts with narrowed eyes but he ends with a scoff and a small smile as he realises he wasn’t sure what he really wanted to say and was just stuttering nonsense. “you don’t know what i mean? you want me to show you what i mean?” he chuckles with a sarcastic attitude, looking up at you through furrowed eyebrows.

“i might need you to show me what you mean.” you laugh but it’s cut short by a shriek when art throws you over his shoulder, laughing. “what are you doing?” you cry out as he stands still in front of his twin bed for a second, contemplating before he decides he doesn’t want to throw you on it and gently sets you to sit on the bed. he pauses and folds his arms, looking down at you, the smile not fading from his face. “what are you looking at me for? c’mon, pretty! down and on your belly.” he says, snorting at his own tone.

“down and on your belly? where did you come from? orderin’ me around!” you say surprised by his newfound confidence before following his instructions. “i’m not sure, i like it though.” he replies laughing before settling on the bed, his knees on each of your sides as he pulls down your panties, pulling your hips up, carefully raising them.

his hands hold their position on your hips when he inserts into you, making you sigh shakily. he grunts as he feels the warmth of your walls enveloping him. his head falling forward, his eyes shut.

moments after, he pulls himself back together, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose and moving his hands to push down your back, your body being smashed against the mattress by his warm palms and when he moves to rut into you, you leave out a moan, muffling it with the pillow.

by the time he is close to cumming, full on whines and whimpers fall out through his lips, his thrusts getting quicker as he chases his release. “so pretty… fuck.. ugh- so good…” he babbles and his upper body connects to your back, folding forwards to try and handle the pleasure as you suddenly feel the cold material of his glasses against the skin of your neck which you felt was burning, the sensation making you shudder.

“please, baby… i’m- i’m close…” he blabbers on your neck, leaving small wet kisses against it as his rhythmic pace gets rougher.

when you both cum, whining and moaning like hormonal teenagers and fall back against the bed, he wraps his arms around your head, pulling you into his chest. “that was really, really hot-“ he pauses, taking a long deep breath “don’t do it again.” he finishes and laughs, pulling away to wipe the fog off his glasses with his your shirt.

#art donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers fanfic #mike faist #minnie thoughts #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #nerd!art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut

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rhettabbotts · 1 year ago

Text

baby, if you only knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: tensions boil over and everything changes for you and rhett one night at a rancher’s event you attend.

w/c: 5.4k (she’s a mammoth)

warnings: 18+ only. smut. age gap (babysitter 20s, rhett 40s). dirty talk. making out in an elevator. daddy kink. possessive rhett. slightly rough sex. cunnilingus. hair pulling. overstimulation. size kink. aftercare. rhett’s grey hair. some fluff.

a/n: i can see you by taylor swift is to blame for this. enjoy the filth! also couldn’t stop myself from adding some babysitter lore. also see green, green dress from tick, tick…boom! for the dress reference!

Six months. Six long, tortuous months of working under Rhett Abbott’s roof.

Okay, it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be in your head. His daughters were angels, and you appreciated that he worked with your school schedule as you attended your graduate program. And he let you live in his guest room rent free.

But it was sweet torture. You had fallen hard for the single father of two and it made every day even harder than the last. Rhett was a wonderful man, an attentive father, and a hell of a cook. A hard worker and he was so handsome, you could hardly breathe around him. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the cowboy?

You tried everything in the world to rid your thoughts of him, but you were highly unsuccessful. And he only did things that made it worse. Every time you brushed by him in the halls it felt like electricity coursed through your entire body. He had to feel it too, right?

Delusional. That’s what you were. You were the babysitter. Nothing more. Eventually, the girls would grow up and you wouldn’t be needed anymore. And that thought caused your chest to tighten painfully.

What a thought to have while washing the dishes. You heard your name but it sounded far off, like your ears were full of cotton.

“Tilly, come quick!” Grace shouted once more to get your attention. It made you turn abruptly, soap suds went flying as you dropped the ceramic pot you were washing. “Sorry,” she mumbled when you glared slightly at her.

“What’s wrong, Gracie?” you questioned as you wiped your hands off with the flower embroidered kitchen towel. Something you bought and put out to leave your own touch on this place.

“Oh. Nothing. Ellie just wanted to show you that we won our game.” The girls had been obsessed with Super Mario Brothers and had been playing it for days.

“That’s great guys! How about we take a break and you help me get dinner started?”

“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” Ellie, Rhett’s younger daughter pouted, bright blue eyes pleading. She and Grace were the carbon copies of Rhett. Same eyes, same nose, same crooked smile. You could never say no to them.

“Of course. But don’t tell your dad,” you whispered, placing your finger to your lips like it was a top secret.

The girls helped you finish the food just as Rhett came in from another long day of herding and branding cattle. He was dusty, covered in dirt and sweat and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead, the ends curling up. You wanted to run your fingers through it, sweat be damned.

“Daddy!” “Daddy, look at what we made!”

The girls ran towards Rhett, pausing when they got close enough to smell him.

“You stink,” Grace commented flatly.

“Thanks. Love you too. Listen, I’m gonna go shower and I’ll be down in a bit. You all can start without me,” Rhett said as he kicked his boots off by the door and took the stairs two at a time. “Oh, and Tilly?” He called from the upstairs landing.

“Yeah?”

“I gotta ask you something later. Don’t let me forget.”

You just nodded, stomach turning at the thought of what it could be.

Grace and Ellie helped you set the table, always eager to follow your every move. It makes you smile. Sometimes you felt like an actual family. And then you had to bring yourself back to reality. Just the nanny. Nothing more. Dinner was quiet, everyone was hungry and occupied with getting their bellies full.

You were resting on the couch as Rhett finished bath and bed time with the girls, trying to read your latest book but your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Your heart started to beat faster as you heard Rhett descend down the stairs.

Rhett took himself to the kitchen, busying himself by pouring a glass of whiskey. A bottle you bought for him for Christmas the year prior. You peeked at him over the top of your book, watching his back muscles flex in the tight black tee he wore. Your mouth watered at the sight of his strong arms and his soft stomach as he turned to face you.

You quickly raised the book above your eyes, fearing that you had been caught staring. You missed Rhett’s knowing smirk.

“Move over,” Rhett poked at the bottom of your foot, the motion tickling you ever so slightly and causing you to jerk your leg towards you. “What are you reading? New dirty novel?” He teased.

“No…” you said quietly, a little shamefully.

“Liar. Is this one better than the last at least?”

“So far. Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier?” You stretched your legs back out and they landed in Rhett’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind. His unoccupied hand landed on your shin, calloused thumb lightly brushing the bone there. Your mind went blank and you could hear nothing but static in your ears.

“I got invited to this rancher’s event. They want me to give a speech. Stupid, but I agreed. And I… I need a plus one. And I figured maybe if you wanted to-“

“Yes!” You said eagerly, spine straightening. “I mean- sorry- go ahead…” Your cheeks felt hot at your abruptness. He was probably going to ask you to set him up with someone. Probably Lisa, Ellie’s dance teacher. She always had her eye on him.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me. Give you a break. It’s the weekend my parents wanted to take the girls camping. That is.. if you didn’t have any plans…”

Rhett sounded nervous. He was looking down at where his hand rested on your leg, avoiding all eye contact.

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll go with you. As-“

“Friends, of course.”

“Right. Friends. What’s the dress code?” You asked, heart sinking slightly.

“Black tie,” Rhett grumbled. He hated dressing up. If he can’t wear flannel, he doesn’t want to be there.

“Perfect. I’ll find a dress to wear.”

“Well. I’ll leave you to the reading. Goodnight, Tilly.” Rhett tapped your leg a couple of times before moving you so he could stand.

You sighed deeply as he left the room, trying to ignore the gut wrenching feeling you had at his response. You couldn’t focus on your book and you eventually went upstairs to attempt to sleep.

“I want you so bad,” Rhett growled against your neck, teeth sinking into your skin causing you to whimper and arch against him. His leg was in between yours, keeping your thighs separated and your barely covered cunt brush against his suit pants. “You’re fucking soaked, sweet girl. You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”

“Rhett, please!” You whined pathetically, grinding down on his thigh, searching for any sort of relief.

“Beg for it, baby. Beg for daddy. Tell me what you want.” Rhett said, voice low and gravelly. He pressed you into the wall harder, flexing his thigh as you keened. “I know you want me to fu-“

“Tillyyyyyy, wake uppppp,” a tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Your eyes shot open so fast it made your head spin. Your entire body was hot even though you just had the sheet covering you and the ceiling fan was on. You were having a dream about Rhett. A fucking wet dream. And now Ellie was yelling at you in the hallway. You felt like you were being punished.

You checked your phone. 5:37am. Jesus, why was she awake?

“I’m up, El. Hold your horses.” You went to the en-suite bathroom to splash cold water on your face. “Get yourself together. Now,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at yourself in the mirror.

The four-year-old stood outside your door with her stuffed horse tucked under her arms. Her eyes were a little red and she was sniffling.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I feel sick,” she whispered weakly, clutching the horse to her chest tighter.

“Come on, bug. I’ll get you some medicine.”

You picked her up and perched her on your hip as you carried her down the stairs. Her forehead felt a little warm. She sat patiently on the counter while you poured the medicine in the little cup and you rubbed her back as she swallowed it.

“Good job, El! I’m proud of you. Here, drink some water and let’s get you back to bed, okay?”

She nodded as she took a big gulp of water from her sippy cup. You trotted back up the stairs, bouncing her slightly to make her giggle.

“Alright, you got your water here and Honey is right here with you. Try to get some sleep, bug. I’ll fix pancakes when you wake up.” You tucked Ellie in, kissing her forehead before you stood up.

Her eyes were already heavy and she mumbled something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

“Luh you, mama.” She repeated sleepily, snuggling her horse and then started snoring softly immediately.

“Oh… I- I love you too, bug.”

You didn’t know how to react. She had never called you that before and it made your eyes misty with tears. You couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after the dream and not after Ellie calling you mama.

The next few hours went by in a blur. You had planned to go shopping with your friend Tabitha to find your dress for the dinner. After dropping the girls off at school, you met Tabitha at the mall. You were in a daze, barely listening to her rant about her latest failed Tinder date.

“Hellooooo,” she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, sorry. No, I’m just- I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sighed as you placed your face in your hands.

“What do you mean?”

“With Rhett! It’s like- why am I going to this dinner? Why do I keep torturing myself? And Ellie! She called me her mom this morning! I want a family and I feel like I have it but it’s not really mine, you know?”

“You need to get laid. That’s what you need,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She looked through the dresses on the rack in the store you were in. “Oh. My. God. This. This dress. Go try it on. NOW!”

She shoved a velvet dress into your arms and pushed you towards the fitting rooms. It was a deep green color, the fabric felt soft against your skin. It wasn’t a dress you would pick out for yourself but once you slid it over your head your jaw dropped at the sight in the mirror.

The bodice was a corset type, something you didn’t typically reach for but was pleasantly surprised at how it looked on you. The dress was form fitting but not uncomfortably so. The strap tied around your neck, lifting your chest and displaying the tops of your breasts tastefully.

The dress hugged your every curve, accentuating parts of your body you weren’t necessarily happy with, but now you felt sexy. Powerful. You opened the door and called for Tabitha. She came running with a few other options in her hands but her reaction matched your own as she laid eyes on you.

“Holy fuck. Yeah, no, forget these. You have to get that one. If he doesn’t fuck you, I will.”

You rolled her eyes at her antics and looked into the mirror once more. You felt so beautiful in the dress. It made you a little giddy at the thought of Rhett’s reaction. If he even had one. You tried to shake the negative thought away. If he didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe a nice cowboy who’d be down for a one night stand at a fancy hotel.

The week passed by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Rhett was packing the girls’ bags for their camping trip and was shouting up at you that he was going to pick up his suit in town from the tailor’s.

You took your time styling your hair the way you liked and you did your makeup, keeping it light but putting on a red lip. Just to be a little bold.

You hid in your room until you heard Rhett finish getting ready and head down the stairs.

“Tilly, you ready? We should leave so-“ Rhett stopped as he turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the wood. “Wow…” he breathed. “You look, ehem, you look nice. That’s a pretty dress.” He fiddled with his cuff links, avoiding eye contact.

“Thank you,” you responded shyly. He held his arm out to escort you to the black pickup truck. The ride was silent except for the radio and the hum of the engine. You couldn’t stop from looking to Rhett. His hair was slicked back, the gray hair looked more prominent. His temples were nearly white. He had a shadow of stubble on his jaw and his suit fit him in all the right places.

You pulled up to a beautiful hotel. It was a grand building, accents of gold sparkled in the setting sun and gorgeous flowers lined the walkways. Rows of trucks indicated that you were at the right place. And the men in bolo ties and cowboy hats gave it away.

Rhett forwent his Stetson and chose a sleek black tie, looking a little out of place but you thought he looked beautiful.

He parked and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and closing his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his forearm.

“Huh? Yeah. M’good. Just nervous. I can’t stand half the people in that room,” he mumbled, smiling softly at you. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’ll do great. I can fake an emergency if needed.”

“Fall down the stairs if I give you a look,” Rhett joked.

“You got it, boss,” you winked at him. You reached for the door handle, preparing to get out of the truck but his hand on your arm now stopped you.

“Wait… I have something for you. A token of appreciation for coming with me. Also, an early birthday present.”

Rhett pulled a long, rectangular box from the side of the door. He opened it to show a diamond bracelet.

“Rhett- that’s- I can’t-“ You couldn’t stop from reaching out and running your fingers along the jewels.

“You deserve it. You work so hard and I don’t say it enough but you mean a lot to me. To the girls. Just wanted to give you something nice,” he said, voice a little shaky.

Something shifted as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. His touch lingered on your skin and it was hard for you to breathe. You tried so hard to keep things professional, but it’s changed. Everything has changed in the cab of Rhett’s truck.

You headed inside, arm linked with Rhett’s as he greeted the people inside. He was so charismatic, putting on a face you’d never seen before. It was sexy. He was controlling the room. Everyone loved him.

You could feel eyes following you as you walked towards the front of the ballroom. You heard a few whispers from the older women, surely gossiping about the obvious age gap between you and your employer.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks. You gonna be okay here?” Rhett whispered in your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine.

“I’ll be good. Can you get me a Long Island?”

“Of course. Be right back.” He hurried off towards the bar, getting stopped several times along the way. You felt like a fish out of water here. You chewed on your thumb nail, anxiously waiting for Rhett to come back.

“I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see the chair to your right being pulled away and a young man, around your age, sat down beside you. His black cowboy hat hid his eyes but he had a wide smirk on his face.

“I bet you’ve said that at least ten times tonight,” you responded, trying to ignore him.

“Name’s Wes. And you are-“

“Not interested. Beat it, buddy,” Rhett growled as he sat your drinks down and sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair possessively.

“I see how it is. Rhett… good to see you.”

Rhett hummed as he glared at Wes over the rim of his glass, silently willing him to scram. It was hot.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“He’s trouble,” Rhett mumbled.

The evening went on without a hitch. Dinner was decent and you joined in on a few conversations. Rhett’s speech was wonderful and informative about the cattle business. He looked good on stage but you knew he was nervous. He made his way back to you, smiling slightly.

“Come dance with me, honey,” he spoke lowly.

“Let me go freshen up a bit,” you squeaked, rushing to the bathroom. Your nerves were getting the best of you. It was just a dance. A quick dance and you’d be heading home. Nothing more.

You made your way back to the ballroom, catching Rhett’s eyes and you trembled slightly at the heat that formed there. A slow song started just as you made your way to the dance floor.

His large hand engulfed yours as his other splayed on the low of your back. You could smell his cologne as he pulled you close to him. You felt a piece of paper in your right palm as Rhett swayed the two of you around.

“What’s that?”

“You can read it when we’re done dancin’,” Rhett drawled, looking down at you. Even with you in heels, his frame still towered over you.

The song ended too quickly for your liking and Rhett was called over to a table filled with older gentlemen, leaving you standing in the middle of the floor. The crumpled napkin had been left in your hand and you spread it out to read the note.

Meet me at the staircase by the piano - R

You gasped slightly and looked around, meeting Rhett’s eyes as he chatted with the group he was with. He was expressionless but there was a fire in his eyes again. One that made your body react and you tried not to squeeze your thighs together in front of everyone there. You made your way back to your table to drink the rest of your drink, a little liquid courage, before you made your way to the staircase.

You stood there for what felt like ages but in reality was only a few minutes. You bounced on your feet, nerves building every second that passed.

“Hey, you,” Rhett’s voice called from behind you, approaching you with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you responded, feeling awkward.

Rhett pulled a key from his pocket. A hotel room key. Room 475 engraved in the key tag.

“You can say no. You can tell me to fuck off. You can quit-“

“Yes,” the answer came without a beat.

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his thin lips.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, Rhett,” you confessed, breathless.

Rhett let out a desperate noise as he reached for you and crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head. You moaned wantonly as his tongue expertly licked into your mouth. You should go upstairs, should stop before anyone sees you.

“Rhett, we should- we need to-“

“Yeah… Yeah.”

His hand linked with yours as he pulled you to the elevator, not wasting time pushing you inside and against the wall, the railing digging into your lower spine a bit uncomfortably. His lips reconnected with yours, a low grunt escaping his throat.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, lips barely leaving yours. Hands explored your body, gripping at your soft hips and thighs, circling around to grab handfuls of your ass. The touch caused you to arch your body towards his, back bowing as he traveled higher and started palming your breast.

“I’ve thought about this - thought about you - for longer than I’d like to admit,” Rhett spoke, deep voice rattling in his chest. “Makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

You just whined pathetically, gripping at his lapels to anchor yourself. You were about to grind against the thigh that had pushed its way between your thighs but the high pitched ding of the elevator caused you to jump apart. Moving so fast, you would have thought you had been electrocuted.

A little old lady walked into the elevator, not missing the way you and Rhett looked disheveled. It was blatantly obvious what you were just doing. Rhett cracked a smile at her, nodding his head in her direction. Your chest was still heaving and your knees felt shaky.

She only went up two floors, a quick ride that felt like an eternity. Rhett’s pinky brushed against your hand where it rested on the rail, the small touch sending shocks through you.

“Have a nice evenin, ma’am,” Rhett said sickeningly sweet and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh at the look she threw his way as she exited the lift.

Your stop was next and nerves bubbled in your stomach at what was about to happen.

Silence surrounded you and Rhett now as you walked to the room. Not a word was spoken as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. You stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wringing your hands together as you looked toward the wooden floor.

Rhett tossed his jacket haphazardly onto the floor, approaching you slowly. Giving you the chance to run. It reminded you of a lion stalking a gazelle before it pounced. His calloused hands rubbed the length of your arms before his touch brushed the side of your neck, eventually cupping your face. A rough thumb caressed your cheekbone.

“Darlin’, look at me. Please,” Rhett spoke quietly, as if not to scare you. You continued to look down, which caused him to pinch your chin and lift your gaze to him. “Are you sure about this? We can- we don’t have to-“

“No. No, I want to. I have for a while. A long, long while.”

“Good,” he said, coming out an octave lower and his eyes landed on your red covered lips. His thumb ran across the pout of your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “I want to devour you.”

A shaky breath escaped you before you wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking softly on the digit.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

You stood there for a moment, his thumb in your mouth and your eyes locked on each other. It made tensions rise tenfold. You pulled away with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva following in its wake.

Impatience got the best of you as you started clawing at his tie and shirt buttons, nearly sending them flying through the room. Rhett chuckled at your huffy breaths of frustration as you yanked on his clothing. You threw the tie behind you, his shirt was shoved off his shoulder and into the chair next to the door. His belt made a loud clink as it hit the window.

“Easy, girl. Don’t destroy the room. Or my clothes,” Rhett teased, stopping your hasty movements. You finally took the chance to pause and look at the man standing before you. Hairy chest on full display. The dark hair traveled down in a continuous line all the way down to the waist of his pants. His soft stomach and love handles made your mouth water.

“You’re so- fuck, Rhett. You’re so sexy,” you said.

“My turn.” He untied the neck of your dress slowly, taking his time pulling the bow loose. He turned you so your back was to him, unzipping you unhurriedly. You let the dress fall to your feet as you turned to face him again, leaving you in your lingerie and high heels.

“My god. Look at you.” Rhett took in the sight of you. Black lace left little to the imagination.

Things moved in a blur after that. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to remove the heels and he almost ripped your bra as he unclasped it with one hand. He tossed it aside and you tried not to giggle as it landed on the lampshade of the lamp that sat on the bedside table.

The edge of the bed knocked against the back of your knees as he pushed you softly so you landed on your back, bouncing on the mattress slightly. He stood between your spread thighs, undoing the button of his slack and pushing them down, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath.

You let out a quiet whine as your eyes traveled down his torso and stopping at the large bulge that was confined by the cotton. Even in the low lighting, you could see a small wet spot from the precum.

Large hands massaged your inner thighs as he spread them apart even farther, causing a slight burn in your muscles. He groaned at the sight of your barely clothed cunt. Rhett fell to his knees swiftly and delved into you without warning. Expert licks moved against your wetness through the thin lace, which had been quickly ripped away. His nose bumped against your bundle of nerves as his tongue explored your folds.

His long fingers soon joined his ministrations, finding that spongy spot inside of you in a matter of seconds. You’d question how he did that later. As of now, you tried to control your shaking limbs as he pushed you higher and higher towards your peak. Scratchy stubble rubbed against you, causing a delicious burn.

He stuck true to his word and devoured you, not leaving one part of you undiscovered.

Rhett’s lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking softly, tongue flicking against the bud. You trembled beneath him and your back bowed off the mattress, bucking against his mouth. A strong arm slung itself over your middle, keeping you pinned to the bed.

Your hands gripped his locks tightly, tugging hard when his tongue sped up.

“Rhett. Oh, Rhett. Fuck. Daddy!” It didn’t take much for your moans to become near screams and for galaxies to explode behind your eyelids as you came against Rhett’s face. Your body was jerking involuntarily as you traveled down from your high. Rhett placed feather light kisses against you before pulling away, hair sticking up in places and his face covered in your release.

He traveled up your body and kissed you soundly, the tangy taste of your desire mixing with something so Rhett made you both moan into each other’s mouths.

“Lay back, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you,” Rhett said quietly. You made yourself comfortable against the soft pillows as Rhett stretched you in preparation for his cock. “Damn pillow princess,” he joked. It made you smile.

He had three thick fingers inside of you before you stopped him.

“Stop! Please! I- I wanna come with you inside me,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist. He nodded and pulled his fingers out fleetingly.

You blindly shoved at his boxers and he clumsily kicked them off the end of the bed, his hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. Fuck, he was big.

Rhett pulled back and sat on his knees, gripping the base of his dick and placing it on your stomach.

“Look, baby. You think you can take me? Think you can handle daddy’s cock?”

“Please! Please, fuck me. Need it. Need you. Please!” You begged, lifting your hips and causing the leaking head to brush against your already sensitive clit. You simultaneously let out a loud moan. He rubbed himself through your folds, teasing you and him both.

“Wait, hold on.” Rhett pulled away and searched for his trousers, pulling his wallet out and rummaging through it. He pulled out a foil wrapper and ripped it with his teeth. You had never seen anything sexier.

“Can I do it?” You asked shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He handed the condom to you and kept eye contact as you rolled the latex down his length carefully. He was heavy in your hand.

You laid back once more, a trembling breath escaping your mouth as he lined up with your entrance. Even with his prepping, it was still a stretch. The slight burn caused you to hiss and dig your nails into his biceps. He took a break between each inch, time passing slowly as he made small thrusts. He eventually bottomed out, a broken moan coming from his chest as you squeezed around his length.

You stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily as his forearms caged you in.

“Daddy. Move. Please,” you whined, fingers moving tangle in the curls at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you, the girth and length of him touching places you’d never been able to reach before. It started slow, he was allowing you to get accustomed to him.

However, it didn’t take long before his thrusts became a little rougher. His hands now were placed a the top of your head as he put his body weight into his movements, grunts escaping him with each pass, your high pitched breaths matching him.

“So tight. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for it. Made for me. All mine, all mine,” Rhett rambled. The headboard started to smack against the wall slightly as he pounded into you. You couldn’t breathe. You were approaching a feeling you had never felt before. Your brain was becoming fuzzy and your ears were beginning to ring.

“Da-daddy. M’gonna- I’m almost there,” you squealed as a particularly harsh thrust hit your g-spot.

“C’mon, sweet baby. Come for daddy,” his deft fingers started rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles and you let out a scream as your release washed over you. Rhett continued fucking into you until he pushed deep inside you and threw his head back towards the ceiling, filling the condom with his own release.

He collapsed on top of you, full body weight covering you like a blanket. You felt like were floating. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed against Rhett’s back, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. You stayed silent for a while, both trying to catch your breaths as you came down. He eventually pulled out of you slowly, causing you to wince. He discarded the condom and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and a glass of water.

You were quiet as he took care of you, smiling softly as he pulled you to sit up and take a few sips of water. You had never been cared for like this after sex. It made your chest constrict. You moved under the covers and waited for Rhett to follow suit. He immediately pressed his warm body against your own, pulling you tight to his chest.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said with a slight giggle.

“I can’t believe it took us this long,” Rhett retorted, fingers dancing along your spine.

You both laughed a little before it fell silent once again.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“What does this make us?” You asked as you ran your fingers through the thick chest hair.

“Well… I think this means you’ll be sleeping in my bed when we get home. But don’t call HR on me.”

“You are HR, Rhett. Seriously, though. Are we like-“

“I want you to be my girl. I have spent the past several months falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon, but damn it, darlin’. You’ve stolen my heart,” Rhett confessed, his words causing your eyes to well with tears.

“Rhett… I- I love you, too.”

“The girls are going to be excited. They’ve been begging me to ask you to be my girlfriend since you moved in.”

“They’re trouble, I swear,” you laughed, snuggling closer to your man.

“They’re the reason I have all of this gray hair.”

“Yeah, but it’s hot. Very… very… very hot,” you responded, emphasizing the T. You giggled as he rolled over on top of you and started kissing against your neck playfully.

You kissed each other softly in the dark until you fell asleep holding each other tight. And when the sun rose in the morning, a new beginning would be awaiting you.

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