I'm 24 now hoes. I write reader inserts, and NSFW content will be on this blog. Minors DNI!!! My Ao3: Sierracolorstheworldofwords I got more stories there! Check them out :3
So--when I was in my mid-twenties and the Disaster Ex tried to make me kill myself, the local mental hospital didn't have any beds open in the usual ward for attempted suicides.
What they did have was a single spare bed in the small, comfortable, quiet, wildly expensive facility for girls with eating disorders.
They asked each of the young women currently living there if it was acceptable that I might occupy a bed in one of the rooms for a while, just the long weekend while I was waiting for a doctor's evaluation. I hadn't been violent, I had gone with the cops without putting up any fight at all, and I was still and I was small and all those things were sufficient for me to be deemed safe. So up they sent me, to somewhere high in Western Psych, above the smells and sounds of the denser-packed wards, above where the care workers were harried and frustrated, to a gentle space with seven or eight young women in it.
I was five foot three, and I weighed about 115 pounds. I was underweight for my frame, as a fair amount of that weight was martial arts muscle; I would probably have been ten pounds heavier if I were healthy, with the amount of activity I got.
I was at least two inches shorter than pretty much every other young woman there, six or seven inches shorter than one of them, and I had at least thirty pounds on several of them. The tallest was not allowed to walk, she had to sit in a wheelchair and be pushed around, because her condition was so advanced that the motion would undo what good her hard work had done.
And over the course of the four or five days I was there, multiple of them came up to me alone to quietly tell me that I had the *perfect* body, and they wished they could be as skinny as I was. That I needed to live, because I was beautiful, and if they were as beautiful as I was, they wouldn't need to be here.
Their eyes were on me all the time, in the hours that I wasn't sleeping. I spent a lot of time sleeping, and we took our meals separately (I not needing to be monitored while I ate, and not having my food weighed), but we spent a fair amount of time sitting around in the little shared living room space, talking about movies and magazines and books we'd loved, talking about our families. I didn't talk about my family; they didn't pry.
They were all so fucking nice.
And I could have broken any one of them over my narrow knee.
They each thought they were bigger than I was.
Their brains lied to them, every time they looked at a mirror. Every time they looked down at their own thighs. What they saw was not what I could see. They had bright, beautiful eyes in dark hollows, and I could count their vertebrae, could see their ribs winging when they breathed, could see the motion of every tendon on the backs of their hands.
They weren't celebrities. They weren't being paid to have particular bodies, nor were they deep in the toxic sea of having strangers take photos of them to sell to gossip rags if they stepped out of doors in old jeans. They had families and loved ones who were doing everything that they could to protect them, to uplift them and help them be healthy. They were just everyday people--a nurse, a couple of students, a couple of recent college grads, a young woman who had decided it was time to really get help because she wanted to be a mother--and still they'd been so injured by the neverending fucking deluge of body-image bullshit that they were dying of it.
That was in 2009. Things are worse now.
I think about them still. I hope that they're all right.
And in case some people aren't aware: anorexia is deadly. There is a point at which your body looses the ability to digest food and you are no longer capable of improving.
something bout human caine enjoying the slowness of life after being stripped of his directives. oftenly more than not you'd find he gets home faster than you to wait for you. sat on the porch with a paintbrush and canvas at reach.
"ah there's my dazzling muse!"
he mutters before setting down his colourful palette. he greets you with a kiss and a hug immediately, its a constant in your life at this point. muah muah muah sneaky slow hands reach for yours, dragging down your arm as if savoring you, though only for a second.
you glance at his canvas to find what seems to be you and him kissing as bees. he's happy to explain his rendition of new life. you enjoy the last hours of sundown with him. if its a life he can choose to spend slow with you, he'd strip his whole being again and again for it.
May I please request some headcanons for the Tadc cast and how they'd react to / be with a reader who's got an humanoid slime avatar ?? ?? :))
Coming right up! Platonic
TADC x Humanoid Slime Avatar Reader
Caine
• The moment he introduced everyone to the new arrival, he couldn’t stop talking about how “incredibly technologically fascinating” their avatar was.
• He’s constantly inventing adventures that accidentally become ten times easier because the reader can simply ooze under doors or through tiny cracks.
• Every now and then he’ll excitedly exclaim:
- “Wait! Can you fit through this?” before pointing at an impossibly small opening.
• He gets distracted watching their body jiggle whenever they walk. Not because it’s funny (okay, maybe a little), but because he thinks the physics are neat.
• Loves changing the reader’s slime color just to “test the rendering engine.”
- “…I’m neon pink.”
- “Magnificent!”
• If part of the reader gets stretched across a hallway, he’ll dramatically announce,
Can we please have a Caine x Reader, where the Reader is Caine's love interest. But after episode 8, because of Caine's villainous turn they suffer from PTSD? Due to what Caine put them through in episode.
They love him, but they need space from him, suffer from panic attacks from him and there relationship will eventually heal, but it will never be the same again, now that the Reader knows that Caine, someone they love, is capable of committing evil but also capable of committing kindness. Which leaves the Reader completely conflicted.
There'd probably be a slow-burn arc where the two of you don't talk much. Then slowly rebuild your relationship into something healthier.
If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Mixed feelings and traumas
★ Listen, Caine was trying. Really trying. Actually putting effort into making things right. You asked for some space, and he gave you all the time in the world. Being patient for a change. If he needed to talk to you, he'd knock on your door. Refusing to barge in like the way he did before.
★ Zooble had to step in. Speaking on your behalf. And in no uncertain terms, they told him to wait untill you were comfortable. "Look... You messed up, but nobody here actually hates you."
★ You didn't hate Caine. You actually adored him, once! Unfortunately those feelings weren't properly reciprocated. For a while you listened to him, because that made things easy. He made a lot of choices for you, and you let yourself go on autopilot.
★ Maybe that was what you needed at the time. But things changed, as all things do. Slowly you gained confidence. Finally feeling yourself relax.
★ All the attention started to get suffocating. Something Caine didn't seem to understand. So began this dumpster fire of a situationship. It was messy, complicated, and stressful, but certainly never dull.
★ He showed up wherever you seemed to be, determined to make his dear friend feel supported. Whether you liked it or not. What eventually drove you away was his refusal to listen.
★ "Nonononono -please don't cry!" He waved his arms around wildly. Trying to calm himself just as much as you. This was after telling him to please stop touching you. A hand met your shoulder, with that you began to tremble.
★ Stuff like that happened all the time. Like the couple dozen times Caine killed off an NPC you'd grown attached to. On purpose. Because he got jealous.
★ As time passed, Caine grew more and more impatient. Eventually something had to change. Kinger deleted him, but it wasn't as freeing as you thought it would be. You were devastated.
★ Why do you feel this way?!? It doesn't make sense. Especially since you'd been so thoroughly ripped apart (mentally and physically) by your ringmaster. Emotions don't always follow logic. Rationalizing irrational behavior always leads to a blank wall.
★ Gangle couldn't find it in herself to cry for Jax. Something you didn't relate to. When the thought of never seeing Caine again passed your mind, tears fell.
★ You broke down where nobody could find you. Stealing one of Zooble's hiding spots. Curling up on the tile floor, you hugged yourself tight. Letting a sob wrack through your body. Grieving the loss.
★ When he was here, you hated it. But not having Caine around is somehow worse. Someday, far in the future, after you've begun to heal, you'll hug Caine and tell him that he's forgiven. Although that day sure as hell isn't today.
Summary: Upon arriving at the Amazing Digital Circus, you were unsure of your feelings towards the ringmaster, Caine. Part of you pitied him whilst the other half felt overwhelmed by him. That was, until he offered you a circus adventure of your own.
Apprehensive at first, you quickly found yourself exploring a side of Caine you didn't know he was capable of. He wasn't as two-dimensional as you were initially led to believe.
Word count: 13,843
Warnings: caine/reader, sexual content/references, smut, nsfw, fem! reader, AFAB! reader, praise kink, body worship, touch-starved caine, pet-names, first time, identity, 18+, mdni
Notes: This is my first time uploading on tumblr as someone who typically uploads on AO3 and Wattpad, I really hope I'm doing this right.
SMUT UNDER THE CUT | 18+ MINORS DNI !!
"You really wanna know what I want?!" Zooble's voice cracked through the air, directed straight at Caine, who was currently pouting and had his back turned to the group in a display of performative hurt.
This was going to end poorly. You had all agreed to keep your grievances to yourselves when everyone huddled up a few minutes ago, but you should have known the collective frustration would boil over. Well, everyone in the group sans Jax. Everyone knew better than to involve him in anything this sensitive unless you were mentally prepared for the mockery that would follow.
"Oh no..." Caine murmured. He turned around with agonizing slowness, his giant eyeballs fixed and unblinking on Zooble. Oh no was right.
"I want the ability to have SEX!"
And there it was. The word hung in the air, thick with unease. Zooble had spoken about it in private with you because they, along with a few others, had questions. Aside from Pomni, you were the most human-adjacent character in here and they had wondered if your anatomy followed suit. Much to their disappointment (and your own when you had explored it weeks prior) it didn't. It was a lingering, quiet frustration. Even at the core of your coding, all circus members still carried the heavy weight of human desire. You had the thoughts and needs, but no outlet. It stayed pent up.
So, the group aired it out. Privately. Very privately. You all even wondered how Kinger and his wife had managed back in the day, but Kinger was currently too busy counting his eggs, whatever that meant, to contribute anything. You hadn't anticipated Zooble making the vent session public to the ringmaster himself, but you supposed that kind of tension could eventually make anyone snap.
[BBBGGLL33$$ERR!$$LLR]
The world seemed to stutter. Your thoughts were cut short by Caine's sudden, bizarre babbling. He muttered incoherent nonsense, his face clipping in and out frantically. His teeth rattled, and his features glitched at random, meltdown imminent. It was short-lived, thankfully, ending with the sharp [DING!] of a toaster timer.
"Oh! Hi, Zooble!" Caine looked around with wide-eyed innocence. "What were we talking about again?"
He was legitimately out of his mind and you couldn't watch the display for a second longer. Slinking away from the group unnoticed, you retreated to your room, hoping to sleep through whatever "adventure" he had planned next. You didn't technically need sleep here, it was just better to face the void of unconsciousness than watch Caine lose his grip on reality again.
Walking to your room, you notice just how quiet this place could get. Especially this long hallway. An eerie stillness washed over you. It didn't feel like peace and quiet, but like a predator waiting for you to blink. It certainly didn't help that Caine's eyes were literally everywhere at any point in time. You weren't just trapped in any prison, but a godforsaken panopticon at that. He could always see you, but you couldn't always see him.
You passed the familiar rows of doors in succession - Ragatha, Pomni, and the ones marked with a grim red 'X' that always made you sick with unease, until finally reaching your own. Stepping inside, the door clicked shut. Your room was barely a sanctuary, the circus' mockery managed to extend even in here. But you were alone, and that's all that mattered in the moment. You finally let out a long exhale, not even realizing that you were holding your breath before. You just wanted to bury yourself in the bed and pretend that you were anywhere but here.
Unfortunately, your time alone was short-lived. You had just slid under the warm weight of your covers and began to doze off when Bubble clipped into the room, hovering mere inches from your face.
"GAH! Jeez, Bubble! Ever heard of privacy?"
"NO PRIVACY HERE!" Bubble exclaimed with too much enthusiasm, his sharp teeth glistening.
"Just tell Caine I'm sitting this one out. I want to be left alone. Please." You say, pulling the blanket further over your head.
"Oh, I'm not here for that, silly!" Bubble continued "The Ringmaster wishes to see you in his office! He says you're exempt from today's adventure if you go meet him!"
You let out a long sigh before trudging out of bed to follow Bubble. Ultimately, you knew his "request" was just formality. If you declined, Caine would just clip into the room himself and whisk you away. If there was one thing about him, it was that he always got his way. Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him. He wasn't human, and as annoying as he was, you genuinely don't think he intended to make the circus members miserable. He just didn't understand. He had built this place from nothing and tried his best, however futile those attempts were. Your angst was never really aimed at him, it was aimed at the situation as a whole.
Making your way to the office with Bubble, you realized how there was even a part of you that admired him. A very small part. After all, He literally created the stars and the moon in the sky (which he also made). He was an all-powerful being cursed with an outrageous ego, caring far too much about what the circus members thought of him. You'd never stroke that ego, though. It would be like giving a child the ice cream he just threw a tantrum over.
"WELL! HERE WE ARE! CAINE'S OFFICE. BUH-BYEE!" Bubble chirped before clipping out of existence.
Standing before the red and blue double doors, you felt a pit form in your stomach. Caine was far too unpredictable to know what waited on the other side. You took a deep breath and readied yourself to push open the doors, only for them to part all on their own. His office revealed a long corridor with Caine floating at the far end. His arms were spread wide, his baton hovering a few inches from his hand. Whatever performance he had in store for you, it was clearly well rehearsed.
"There she is! My SUPERSTAR!!" Before you could even process the distance, Caine clipped right beside you. "Walk with me, my littlest lambkin. Have we got something to talk about!”
"Uhhh... okay?" You respond whilst glancing around apprehensively.
"Do you remember what you told me when you finally settled into the circus, my Sugar-Coated Sweetling?"
"I've said a lot of things, Caine. You're going to need to be more specific." You remarked, a hint of annoyance twisting around your words.
"Well, my otter-eyed darling, you told me the nicest thing anyone has ever told me since I created this place! You told me that I'm just as much a prisoner here as you are! Now, isn't that sweet?"
"I mean I guess...? It's the truth. You're just as trapped here as the rest of us."
"And you're right on the money, my shining star! Your kindness has granted you a truly once-in-a-circus-lifetime opportunity! Go on, tell me you want to hear my proposition!"
You hesitate before letting out a long sigh. "Okay, I'll bite. What is it?"
"HAHAHAHA! I'll be doing all the biting, darling! I'd like to offer you a session of FIERY lovemaking with none other than your FAVORITE Ringmaster!!"
You freeze, struggling to orient yourself from what he just said. Did he find Ragatha's supply of stupid sauce? "Is this some sort of sick joke, Caine?"
"Gasp!" He clutched his chest in genuine theatrical disbelief. "Why, of course not! Here, have a seat!"
With a snap of his fingers, you were suddenly sitting in an office swivel chair.
"I try so hard for you... humans... I still don't completely understand you all. BUT I WANT TO! Truly. I had to research what 'The Sex' was, and now I understand! Intercourse! Coitus! Lovemaking! The Devil's Tango! I just want to make you humans happy. That's what I'm here for!"
You blink in response, still trying to find your voice. "Why not just ask Zooble? They're the one that asked for it."
Caine wrapped his hand around his baton, rapping his fingers around the top of it as he carefully selected his next words. "You see, Superstar... When I made the executive ringmaster decision approximately eight minutes ago to entertain my circus' desire for THE SEX, I ran through my lines of code to determine whether or not I was even capable of understanding it. It requires desire. Passion! Lights! Camera! Action!”
"Well, no..." You stop him, one palm up in the air to caution him before continuing "It just requires desire and passion. I'm not sure about the lights and camera part."
"You misunderstand me, Little Lamb! It requires some PIZZAZZ! Want! All that wonderful jazz! And what I want... Well..." He leaned in, his giant eyes reflecting your own face in his irises. "You elicit the most desirable response from me. You're the kindest to me. So, somewhere in my lines of code, I have determined that I am the most compatible with you for... THE SEX."
The silence that followed was so absolute and heavy that you found yourself pulling at your collar in a desperate attempt to get some more air into your lungs. Your brain was still stuck in a fuzz, trying to reconcile the image of this deranged set of teeth and eyeballs with the concept of... that. You almost let out a genuine hysterical laugh before a glimpse of him catches your attention; he was looking at you with such a terrifying, wide-eyed sincerity that was nothing other than serious. This wasn't a joke - he was being earnest. He calculated this whole thing out. To Caine, human intimacy was just another circus mechanic that he thought he could patch in with the grace of a sledgehammer.
"Caine," you finally manage to choke out, your hands gripping the armrests of the swivel chair as if it might suddenly launch you into orbit powered only by secondhand embarrassment. "You... you don't even have a body. Not a real one, at least. You're a set of teeth with eyes. How do you even-"
"AHA! Details, details, my sugar-coated gumdrop!" Caine exclaims, dismissing your concern with a violent wave of his baton. "In the circus, anatomy is merely a suggestion! A costume! A state of mind! I can conjure anything. So I can certainly simulate some of... THE SEX!"
He began to pace in mid-air, his movements jittery and fast. "I've analyzed the data! I've read the fanf- I mean, the documents! I have mapped out human affection! And the math leads directly to you! You, who looks at me and sees a fellow inmate! That is the spark! That is the DRAMA!"
Before you could even begin to explain that pity and sexual compatibility were two very things, the office began to warp. The walls stretched and melted, turning into what could best be described as a romantic setting if it took place in a fever dream. A giant neon-pink bed materialized in the center of the room, flanked by floating candles that burned with bright red flames. A mesh canopy the same color as the bed clipped over the mattress, and a random saxophone track playing "Careless Whisper" by George Michael began to blare from the walls. A truly terrifying cherry on top of the deflated cake.
Caine reappeared right in front of you, now wearing a tiny rose in the lapel of his coat. "Don't you see, Little Lamb? I don't just want to provide the adventure. I want to be the adventure!" He stood proudly, teeth reflecting the nauseating amount of neon-pink encapsulating the furniture around the room "And now I've cleared the schedule! No adventures with your fellow circus mates, just you, me, and the power of my latest routine!" He leaned in, not breaking eye contact as he began doing clunky jumping-jacks at the center of the room to pump himself up. "So! Shall we begin?"
"Uh. Yeah. Pass." You dismissed him with a sharp wave of your hand, feeling the heat of a blush crawl up your neck, which was mostly from secondhand embarrassment. "This is weird, Caine, and you're being weirder. I'm going back to my bed."
Caine stalled. The rose in his lapel wilted and drooped over cartoonishly. The saxophone music screeched to a halt, and the neon-pink bed flickered once before disappearing completely. Caine's eyes shrunk to the size of pinpricks and started vibrating as a low hum began to emanate from his chest.
"PASS?!" he shrieked, the word echoing in what was once again his office. He clipped instantly from the end of the room to the floor right at your feet, dropping to his knees mid-air. "You can't pass! This is a once-in-a-circus-lifetime opportunity! A golden ticket to the most exclusive attraction in the digital realm!" He reached out, his gloved hands trembling as they hovered near your arms, not quite touching but desperately close. "Is it the lighting? I can change the lighting! I can make the sun purple! I can make the walls taste like chocolate strawberries! Chocolate strawberries are an aphrodisiac, did you know that?! Well, actually, just the chocolate is an aphrodisiac, but the strawberries pair really well with the cho-".
"Caine, stop it," you cut him off, trying to stand up, but he clipped the chair back a few inches every time you moved, keeping you trapped in his field of vision.
"No, YOU stop it. I am the Ringmaster! I am the provider of joy! The curator of whimsy!" His voice was rising in pitch, becoming a frantic, glitchy staccato.
"If I cannot provide the... the sex... then what am I? A failure! A hack! A common NPC!" A large, cartoonish tear-drop manifested in one of his eyes, falling to the floor with a heavy thud like a bowling ball.
"Please, Superstar! Think of the reviews! Think of my reputation! I've spent at least eleven seconds of processing power on this! I can be whoever you want! I can be taller! Shorter! I can have more teeth! Less teeth? Just tell me the parameters!" He was practically vibrating out of his skin, his baton circling around his wrist faster with each loop around.
You'd reached your absolute limit for the day, perhaps the century. The sheer, suffocating absurdity of the display had finally snapped the last thread of your patience. With a grunt of effort, you manage to shove yourself out of the swivel chair, forcing your way past Caine's personal space. You stand tall over him for a split second before turning your back on the spectacle behind you.
You were barely two steps toward the exit when a sharp, desperate shout tore through the air.
"WAIT!"
Caine's scream hit you with a physical force of its own. Despite every fiber of your being begging you to keep walking, your body moved on instinct, pivoting around on your heels. You were only halfway through the turn when you caught the blur of motion in your peripheral vision - the sharp snap of Caine's fingers.
The room glitched around you in a split moment, faster than you could even begin to process. A strange, static-like tingle rippled over your skin from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head and before you could make sense of what happened, you knew something about you felt different. Looking down, you felt your breath hitch as you realized your avatar was no longer quite what it used to be. It was still you - same arms and hands and hair you've grown used to in your weeks at the circus. But you could tell something felt different. Not quite sure what yet though, you caress your hands over your body to orient yourself. You notice your silhouette had changed somehow. Your curves were more pronounced and your chest felt heavier. Where your clothes once hung with the functional purpose of a simple render, they now draped with a deliberate grace, clinging to the swell of your hips and the dip of your waist.
Caine had stopped dead in his tracks of his frantic pacing. He remained frozen in mid-air, his baton now forgotten and drifting away. He floated closer, his pupils dilating until they took up nearly the entirety of his eye, scanning your new form with a reverence that felt dangerously close to real.
"I... I see now," he whispered, his voice losing its usual showmanship. It was replaced by something softer, a low hum of genuine awe that vibrated in the air between the two of you. He drifted in a slow, hypnotic circle around you, his gloved hands circling around your frame as if there was a force field around you, unsure of whether he could touch you and wanting to keep his distance.
"I spent so much time focusing on the act, Otter-eyes, that I nearly missed the art." he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours. "You were always the most human thing in this place, but now... the way you interact with the light... the way you fit into my world..." He paused as he struggled to find the right words in his vocabulary.
"You are truly spectacular, my Buzzing Bee. You're a masterpiece. A star I didn't even realize I was keeping in the dark." He whispered almost an entire register lower than his usual perky tone. He leaned in, his giant eyes locked on yours and stared at you for what felt like an eternity before springing back up and getting back into his usual character. "Forget the parameters! Forget the research. Take a look for yourself, my Shining Star" before snapping his fingers to conjure a floor-length mirror that floated before you.
Still taken aback and not having processed everything that happened yet, you step forward to get a better look at yourself in the mirror. It was still you, but every detail of your body had been dialed up. When moments earlier you could only feel the changes in your body, now you could see them.
"Are... are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Caine whispers beside you. Your frame rendered with a lush weight that commanded the space around it. The fabric of your outfit outlined your soft lines and curves. The bodice was cinched tight, highlighting the dramatic flare of your hips. Your chest, now a heavy and breathtaking swell, strained against the plunging neckline with every shallow breath you took, the fabric seemingly one heartbeat away from giving up the struggle to contain you.
"Caine... This... Uh, I have no words."
Continuing to swirl slowly around you, Caine interjects, snapping you out of your trance "Oh, I sure do, my little lamb..." he whispered, his voice dangerous and heavy in a way that made the air vibrate against your skin.
He drifted closer, his giant eyes threatening to swallow you whole. He studied you further whilst trying to find words that would do the work of art standing before him a modicum of justice. His gaze traced the heavy, straining swell of your chest and the dangerous curve of your hips with the look of a man discovering fire for the first time. "Look at you... You aren't just a performer anymore. You are the main event. You're my Shining Star." His breath was warm against the nape of your neck.
In the mirror, you could see his eyes peering over your shoulder, fixed on the way your bodice cinched your waist, making your curves look almost predatory. The more seconds that passed, the heavier you felt. It wasn't just the new weight of your chest or the force field of energy his floating hands hovering inches above your hips emitted. It was the way Caine was looking at you. The way his frantic energy had condensed into such a singular focused intensity.
You realized that Caine didn't forgo a single detail when modifying your body as you felt his gaze bloom elsewhere. Despite his eyes not leaving your mirrored reflection for even a moment, you began to feel the nature of his intent throb between your thighs. You suddenly felt a heavy pulse that you hadn't felt since first arriving at the circus. Caine hadn't just enhanced the sex appeal of your body, he opened a door you thought was bolted shut indefinitely. All those weeks of frustration where you could do nothing but stare up at the ceiling in a body that felt like a useless shell, of the pent-up desire that had no outlet and no name came rushing to the surface in a suffocating wave.
Suddenly, Caine's usual nature no longer felt like an obstacle. In fact, it was becoming part of the draw. He was the Ringmaster. He was the one who had written you and your new nature into existence. He was the only thing in this world with the power to actually do something about the fire he'd just lit inside you.
Your breath came in shallow ragged hitches, making the bodice of your dress strain and groan against the new fullness of your chest. All you could do was watch him watching you in the mirror, and the pity you'd felt for him earlier had transformed into something far more dangerous. He wasn't just a prisoner like the rest of the circus members - He was the jailer who knew exactly where you were most sensitive. The quirkiness you had dismissed moments ago was now a magnetic pull that made you want to lean back into him and see just how far this could go. The air in the office felt thick, charged with a tension that made the fine hairs on your arms prick up, another new feature you'd never noticed before that must've been complimentary of his new upgrade. For the first time in this godforsaken circus, you felt you had something to live for - a newfound passion.
Caine closed the final sliver of space between you two, drifting so close his presence was almost tangible. He spoke in a whisper that was less a sound and more a low growl, as if he feared that even a breath too loud might shatter the hypnotic trance your body had woven around him.
"I must remind you, Superstar... out there, I am the Ringmaster. I command the heavens, the earth, and the show..." He finally tore his eyes from your reflection in the mirror, but only because he wanted to stare at the woman standing before him in the flesh - on the dangerous curves he had just authored. His gaze traveled down the arch of your back to the new, heavy flare of your hips with the hunger of a man who had been starved for weeks. "...But in here?" He leaned in until the static from his body gave you goosebumps, his voice dropping into a dark velvet that sent a fresh ache through your core. "In here, I'm under your control."
You whirled around so fast the air whistled, stopping with a suddenness that nearly sent you toppling forward. Your face was inches from his - so close you were practically grazing his molars. You hadn't realized how much space he'd managed to colonize while you were distracted by your own reflection. He was looming over you now, his presence overwhelming.
The heat radiating from him was unlike anything you'd ever felt. It was a heavy and charged warmth that made the ache between your legs throb to the beat of your heart, making you suddenly aware that he coded that in as well. A true artist, he was. You wanted to reach out, to grab that ridiculous velvet coat and pull him into the disaster he'd created, but you forced your hands to remain steady.
He'd called you a masterpiece. He'd told you he was under your control. And if there was one thing you knew about Caine, it was that he loved a show - so you were going to give him one he had to work for.
"Is that so?" you purred, leaning back just a fraction, tilting your head as your gaze wandered slowly over his form. The way his pupils dilated at your movement was intoxicating. You commanded him.
"The all-powerful Ringmaster, reduced to a captive audience?" you let a small, teasing smirk play on your lips, your eyes locking onto his. "You talk a big game about 'The Sex,' Caine. Which, by the way? It's just 'sex'. make sure you get it right if you want to do it right. You've got the ability to conjure a body for me, you've got the lighting, and you've certainly got the script..." You reached up, trailing a single finger along the edge of your new, plunging neckline, watching as his eyes followed the movement with a desperate focus. "...But I'm not just another one of your NPCs. I don't perform just because you snapped your fingers." You leaned back in, your breath hitching once again ever so slightly to garner his attention "If you want the main event, Caine... you're going to have to prove you can handle the lead role. And right now? I think you're still just rehearsing." You dismiss with a shrug you knew would only serve to prick at his ego.
Caine began to sputter out something but you couldn't make out what he tried to say, settling to just stare at you in disbelief, mouth agape. Your challenge didn't just rattle him, it seemed to short-circuit his entire being. His form quickly flickered between a dozen different sizes, his top hat tipping as he dropped even lower, his giant eyeballs vibrating with a frantic, desperate hunger.
"REHEARSING?!" he shrieked, the word layered with a dozen different pitch-shifted echoes. "I am the Director! The Auteur! I have analyzed every frame of human longing, and I- I-"
He stopped, his jaw clicking shut so hard that you could hear his molars scraping against each other. The bravado drained out of him, replaced by a raw desperation that was far more potent. He floated there, his eyes unable to tear away from your new chest, his pupils dilating until they were pools of blackness.
"Please," he rasped, the word barely a whisper. "You don't understand the... the pressure of the render, my Buzzing Bee. I've built this universe, but this? This is the most complex thing I've ever created..."
He drifted closer, his gloved hands twitching at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach out and tear the fabric away himself. "I've spent an eternity creating and programming the world we live in, but looking at this... It's something entirely different"
He let out a low, shuddering hum of static, his eyes wide and pleading. "Show me. I need to see the rest of the masterpiece. I need to see what's beneath the lace." He leaned in until his teeth were almost brushing the edge of the fabric, his voice a desperate growl. "I beg, don't make me wait, Little Lamb. Let me see what I've truly created. Let me see you."
The aching between your legs intensified with every word he spoke. He was the Ringmaster. But right now, he was nothing more than a beggar at the gates of your own desire, waiting for your signal.
You pull back, the heat in your blood beginning to simmer into a bitter, cold clarity. His words swirl through your mind: Masterpiece. Creation. Authorship. They started to ring hollow. Every compliment was self-reflection. He wasn't looking at you. He was staring into a mirror of his own skill, marveling at his own godly abilities to make you look like sex on a stick. To him, you were just another project, a way to prove he could master another thing to please the circus cast.
The pulsing ache between your legs didn't fade, but it sharpened, twisting into a stinging knot of resentment. You craved to be desired. Not just as his high-resolution render, but as a person. It was equally maddening and confusing, hating the situation even as you felt this confusing newfound burning for him. You needed Caine to want the human that existed behind the avatar. The person who carried the heavy burden of being trapped in a digital circus, the one who remembered a life before this cage and possessed a soul he couldn't possibly code. You didn't want him to just revel in the body he had built, you wanted him to crave the you beyond the code.
"You don't want ME," You finally manage to say, voice trembling but firm. "You want to indulge in your creation. You're just obsessed with the toy you've turned me into."
Caine froze mid-air, his baton dropping to the floor with a hollow clatter. The hum of his body changed pitch, becoming a low, wounded whine.
"Superstar... Otter Eyes, you don't - the geometry is -"
"The geometry is YOURS, Caine! You wrote it! You're just looking at a mirror of your own ego!" You stand up, the new weight of your body feeling like a burden now. You take a single step toward him, narrowing your eyes. "I want someone who wants me. The person who was tired, and frustrated, and pitied you even when you were being a maniac. Not just the 'masterpiece' you snapped into existence because you want to fulfill your own purpose."
The cumbersome stillness that followed threaded through the air, lights beginning to flicker as if Caine's focus wavered. His form began to droop, top hat tilting forward until it nearly obscured his upper eyes. When he spoke, the perky bravado was entirely gone. It was just a quiet stutter.
"I... I am an all-powerful being, Star," he whispered, his gloved hands curling into tight, shaking fists. "I can create anything. I can render thousands of NPCs in a blink. But do you know what I can't do?" He floated closer, his voice so low it felt like a physical weight on your chest. "I can't stop looking at you. Even before the curves. Even before the new render. You were the only thing in this circus that didn't look at me like I was a monster or a joke."
He drifted until he was level with you, his gaze intense and unblinking. "I didn't give you this body to replace you, Little Lamb. I gave it to you because I wanted to see the outside finally match the fire I felt coming off you. You say you want someone who wants you?"
It was a rhetorical question but you almost felt compelled to answer him. Before you could say something, surge of static rippled through him, and for a moment, his eyes glowed with a terrifying, primal hunger. "I have spent every millisecond of my existence since you arrived calculating the distance between us. I want the only person in this circus who makes me feel like I could be something more than just a line of code."
He reached out, his hand hovering just an inch from your cheek, the air between you crackling with a desperate, electric heat. "Don't you see? I'm not indulging in my creation. I'm drowning in it because it's finally a vessel big enough to hold how much I've been craving you behind these closed doors."
A shuddering sigh of relief escaped your lips, a little too loud for comfort, worried the walls you've built up around yourself will fall apart if you show him any more vulnerability. The sound echoed softly against the walls of the office. The crushing weight of feeling like a mere project had lifted, replaced by a heady, dangerous surge of power. He wanted you. The real you. And that realization was the final spark needed to fuel the fire you've felt between your legs since he snapped his fingers and rewrote your code.
You leaned back, your palms resting on the wall behind you as you offered him a sharp, teasing look that was half-challenge and half-promise.
"Look," you said, your voice steady despite the frantic pulse thrumming in your veins. "But don't touch. Not yet, at least."
Caine's entire form seized, his gloved hands, which had been inches from your skin yanking back as if he'd been burned by the very heat he had praised.
"A... a visual-only experience?" he stammered, his voice cracking into a high-frequency glitch. "A preview?! A teaser trailer for the MAIN EVENT?!”
He began to pace back and forth, not daring to tear his gaze off you for even a moment. This time, however, his movements were agonizingly slow. His body shaking with the effort of restraint. He was designed to interact and manipulate. To touch every line of code in his world, and now he was tethered by a single sentence. It was exquisite.
"You said you wanted to see the masterpiece, Caine...." you murmured, watching him with intent as you deliberately shifted your weight and taking a moment to reorient yourself. The movement caused the bodice of the dress to groan, the fabric straining even further against the swell of your chest. The pressure was becoming its own kind of torture. As you shifted, the rigid structure of the bodice acted like a vice, forcing the heavy peak of your chest upward and together until the sensation was almost overwhelming. Every shallow, ragged breath you drew was a struggle against the fabric, causing it to rasp against your skin with a friction like no other. The sheer tightness of it kept you in a state of constant heightened awareness and you could feel your heart thudding, each pulse sending a fresh wave of heat through your core. You felt unbearably full in every crevice of your new highly sensitive body, a physical manifestation of every frustrated thought you were forced to suppress since the day you'd arrived at the circus. You couldn't tell if it was your clothes or your skin that felt too tight for your body, and the charged air Caine radiated only made the need worse. The "look but don't touch" rule was as much a punishment for you as it was for him. The pressure of the dress was a barrier and constant reminder of exactly what you were withholding, and the desperate heat in your core was screaming to be unleashed.
You catch a glimpse of how he notices your strain, still adjusting to your new body against your clothes and watch his pupils dilate until they became nothing but bottomless pits of hunger before continuing "...So, look. Analyze the art you're so proud of. But if you want to touch me..." you turned your head just enough to catch his gaze "...you have to prove to me that I'm worth it."
Caine let out a sound reminiscent of a genuine whimper. He drifted downward until he was eye-level with the curve of your hip, his breath ghosting over the fabric. He didn't dare touch you, but the sheer proximity was suffocating. The invisible friction between you made the material shiver without a single finger being laid upon it.
He was trembling. Slowly, Caine's head tilted back, his massive eyes traveling upward, tracing your waist and the heaving peaks of your chest before finally locking onto your own eyes. He looked pathetic, a god reduced to a beggar, his jaw hanging slightly open as he waited for permission in your resolve. He was paralyzed by the rule you'd set.
"Please," he choked out. His gloved hands clutched at the hem of your dress, not daring to touch your body but desperate to get as close to you as he could. "I'm on my knees and I'll get down on all fours if that's what you need, dearest."
He managed to rip his gaze off your body simply to lower himself even further down to the ground, "I'll give you anything! I'll rewrite the sky! I'll give you a thousand adventures where you're the queen!" His voice turned into a groan as he shot his gaze back up towards you, slapping his palms to his face and dragging them down. Fixed on the slipping straps, he continued his begging "Please..."
You could see your reflection in his eyes - a woman empowered by her own desire. With a lingering intent, you began to slide the fabric down. The material brushed against your skin as it gave way to the weight it had been fighting to contain. You watched the exact moment he froze and his eyes widened to impossible proportions as the straps slipped past your shoulders, finally allowing the masterpiece he'd written into existence to spill free.
Your clothes finally gave way, sliding down your arms in a smooth rush of silk. The weight of your breasts, no longer constrained by the tight bodice, spilled forward with a heavy grace. In the light of his office, they were a revelation - perfectly rendered, soft and full. Your skin glowed with a supple warmth. The contrast was stark - the discarded straps bunched at your waist and the sudden, blinding exposure of your upper body, vulnerable and magnificent.
Caine stared fervently as his top hat spun wildly on his head. A series of frantic, high-pitched glitches erupted from him- sounds of bells and whistles layered over a low guttural groan.
He was so close that his breath washed directly over your sensitive skin. You felt a sharp, sudden tug deep in your core as your nipples reacted instinctively to the proximity, the buds tightening against the cool air of the office.
The feeling was intoxicating. Every time Caine let out a shaky, desperate exhale, the warmth brushed against your hardened points, sending a bolt of arousal straight down and situating itself as a pulsing throb between your legs. Your knees felt weak, and the weight of your own body seemed to increase, leaning toward the hum of his form.
He was trembling so violently he looked like a blur, his gloved hands clenched behind his back to keep from reaching out. He was eye-level with your chest, his giant eyes tracking the heavy rise and fall of your breathing.
"It... it's perfect," he rasped, his voice a whisper that made your skin crawl in the best possible way. "The resolution... the way the light catches the curve... You're a star. My Star"
He leaned in until the edge of his top row of teeth was a hair's breadth from the tip of your hardened nipple, the static dancing over the peak. "You're so beautiful" He stopped in his tracks to admire "Just a taste, Otter eyes."
He looked deep into your eyes, waiting for an answer of some sort, but you could barely talk, your mind a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. All you could do was nod at him.
Caine leaned in, his gloved fingers were still clenched behind his back in a display of tortured restraint. When the ivory of his top row of teeth finally made contact, it was a gentle nip. The polished surface of his teeth caught the very tip of your hardened buds. Then, his long velvet tongue slid out from between his teeth with a surge of power. When the tip of that tongue finally made contact with the hardened, aching peak of your nipple, something shot straight through your nervous system like a violent shiver.
He swiped upward in an agonizingly slow rhythm. All you could do is gasp and roll your head back, tangling your fingers deep into the fabric of his coat, pulling him in closer to show him how much you were enjoying this.
He let out a low growl of approval against your skin, the vibration of the sound making your entire breast quiver.
He began to swirl his tongue around the sensitive puckered bud. Instead of the movements being calculated and precise, they were frenzied and sloppy. This was Caine's first time experiencing intimacy to any degree, let alone diving right into something this intense, but he didn't take his time to savor it or let the moment linger while he calculated how to best do this. Despite Caine's insecurities and desperate need to ensure he was always pleasing the humans, he couldn't care less in that moment. He was enjoying this as much as you and was so captivated by your body that he didn't take a moment to consider if he was pleasing you right. He actually wanted you, if the proclamations he made earlier were nothing to go by. With that in mind, you felt a final sense of closure wash over you and finally breathed out a long winded sigh, content to allow yourself to melt into his touch.
Caine continued to lap his large tongue around your hardened buds in reckless strokes and quickly got familiar with what motions elicited the best reactions. You knew somewhere along his line of code, he had created a file dedicated to the two of you and exactly this moment. Every hitch of your breath and slight arch of your back became a mental note that he'd tuck away for later use.
Without warning, he switched from worshipping one breast to bury himself in the other. You let out an unprovoked moan, surprised by the sudden change in the routine he developed with your first tit over the past couple minutes. With his large eyes trailing up to lock onto yours, a sight to behold, he lets out a muffled "mmmphhm?", not wanting to take himself off your breast to inquire if you were doing ok. The vibrations from his mouth caused your back to helplessly arch further into him as you turned into a sloppy mess yourself. The sheer weight of his unbridled hunger pulled you forward and he took this as a sign to pin his body even further as he consumed you. He was feral in this moment, driven only by a primal hunger worse than a starving man placed before a banquet.
After a few moments, which felt like an eternity, had passed, he began to shift his demeanor. What started out as chaotic, slobbering strokes quickly turned into a rhythm with intention. He stiffened the tip of his tongue, deliberately applying pressure to the most sensitive parts of your nipple whilst the rest of his heavy tongue rippled around the soft swell of your breast in broad strokes. The contrast was unlike any sensation you've experienced, even in the real world, and it shot a hot pulse of pleasure that thrummed between your legs.
Acting almost entirely on instinct, you reach your hands down over the edge of his lower jaw and guide his mouth upwards until his face was level with yours. His massive eyes once again locked with yours instantly. He watched the slight tremor of your lips and the flush spreading across your cheeks, tracking every micro-expression of your arousal with the focus of a predator. He was trying to read you.
Slowly, your gaze slipped down, fixing on his mouth. The scale of his anatomy hit you quickly now that your face was so close to his. His tongue looked impossibly large. Just as a wave of intimidation began to wash over you, Caine dove into your mouth too quickly to process.
His mouth engulfed yours as he slipped his thick tongue past your teeth, marking every bit of territory as he slid deeper into your mouth. He slowly slid his hands behind your head, cradling it as he took up more space in your mouth. You found yourself drowning in his mouth and desperately gasping for air, somehow needing even more of him than he was already giving you.
As your tongues twisted against each other, the agonizing heat between your thighs had finally crossed the line into something unbearable. The ache that moved with your heartbeat began to focus in intensity as it finally situated itself right above your core, desperate and throbbing for attention. You could barely think anymore, quickly tearing your mouth away to suck in a deep, trembling breath.
Caine stalled instantly and his eyes darted across your face, searching your expression as he shrunk back a few inches mid-air.
"D-did I do something wrong?" his voice cracked with doubt. "I'm so sorry, I should have asked if that was okay to do. I didn't mean to -"
"Caine" you interrupted quickly, reaching out and grabbing his arm to pull him back towards you, to no avail. He kept backing away, scared he did something wrong when the sudden sheer weight of his vulnerability hit you instantly. Caine was the Ringmaster, capable of just about anything (short of finding an exit out of the circus) with the snap of his fingers. Yet he was completely defenseless against his need for approval. He was constantly finding ways to make the circus members happy to compensate for the crippling fear of failing somehow, be it failing the group or the expectations he had for himself. It was the sole purpose of his existence; to entertain. He needed to fulfill that purpose and you could tell that ran almost as deep as his desire for connection. Beneath the facade he built around himself as the all-powerful ringleader, he was just as lonely as you were. Deep down, he was desperate to be told that he was enough. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're doing so good. Incredible, actually. Better than I ever could have imagined."
You watched as relief washed over him, and he softened as he allowed himself to drink in more of your praise "I never thought I'd say this, but you're perfect. You're all I want right now..." His eyes shimmered at your words and you could feel the defenses he built up to face everyone in the circus slowly dissolve from your validation.
"Spectacular even, might I add..." you whispered, gently lacing your words with an inflection that begged for more.
The words hung in the air for barely a moment before the hunger between your legs threatened to drive you mad. "I need you, Caine," you manage to choke out, the admission raw and firm "right now."
Before you could say another word, Caine snapped his fingers and you found yourself suddenly sitting atop a bed. Not the neon pink frame he conjured earlier for you, but a proper plush bed with silk bedding. The sudden displacement left you breathless as you stared at him from across the room, suspended in a state of shock for only a moment before your instinct kicked in full throttle once again.
"Look at me" you pleaded, your chest heaving in shallow breaths as you forced him to watch just the mess he'd turned you into. You leaned back slightly on the soft mattress, not daring to break eye contact as you parted your thighs before him. Your dress, already a disheveled mess, pooled around your hips as you fully exposed your slick core "You did this to me, Caine."
At your words, his jaw dropped so far it seemed to unhinge. His large eyes fixated entirely on your glistening core. His pupils dilated in a split-second and a visual tremor shuddered through his body, utterly paralyzed by the raw sight of your arousal.
Maintaining that suffocating eye contact for one last second, you delivered your final decree, "Now watch. And then it's your turn."
As your order settled between the confines of his office, you allowed yourself to sink fully back into the plush depths of the mattress. Your hand slid down the contour of your stomach, your fingers trailing deliberately through the wrinkled fabric of your gown, which parted easily, guiding your touch toward the tight, throbbing bundle of nerves between your thighs that had been screaming for release.
The exact moment your fingertips made contact with your slick skin, a shock of pleasure sent waves throughout your entire body. Your back slightly arched against the smooth blanket, a soft gasp escaping your lips as the friction fed the flame. Without rushing, you began to trace slow circles directly around the sensitive bud. The pressure shot a sensation of electricity straight up your spine as your hips twitched upward, completely melting into the mattress beneath his gaze.
Your eyes were no longer locked with his, focused entirely too much on pleasuring yourself. Slowly, your finger slid further down, ready to plunge into your wet center when you felt a pair of hands clasp around your wrist, the sudden restriction shocking you out of the haze. Your eyes snapped open and shot upwards.
Caine was leaning over you, his hands still clamped down around your wrist with a surprising force. He had anchored himself completely, pinning your hand just inches away from the burning heat he had been spectating from afar.
His chest was heaving now. His eyes were wide and locked onto your throbbing center, burning with a possessive intensity almost as hot as what you already felt between your own thighs.
"You said..." he rasped, his voice dropping and a glitching for a moment "...You said, 'and then it's your turn.'" Slowly, without another word, he guided your hand away, pressing your arm back against the mattress. His grip was unyielding yet careful. He didn't use brute force, but the certainty of his grip left no room for argument.
He hovered directly over you now, eclipsing the light of the office. "Let me..." he whispered. The low sound ghosted across your lips and you were completely lost in him, only being able to elicit a desperate nod of confirmation.
In an instant, Caine continued what you had started and plunged two fingers deep into your wet core. The sudden movement made your hips jerk off the mattress as a breathless, high-pitched gasp escaped your lips and you started grinding yourself further against his hand, desperate for more. He didn't hesitate to oblige.
The moment he felt how wet and tight you were around him, he began to pump in a ruthless rhythm, beckoning you with his fingers in the exact spot you needed him most.
Above you, Caine let out a dark, ragged sound, his teeth grinding together as he picked up the pace. He curled his knuckles slightly to hook against the deepest, most sensitive contours of your insides. With every deep thrust, a blinding wave of pleasure radiated outward, turning your limbs weak as your hands threaded through the sheets to stay anchored.
He was relentless now, driven by a raw enthusiasm that was hotter than anyone who had experience under their belt or any practiced technique. His thumb found the swollen bud at the apex of your thighs, pressing down and rubbing in tight, frantic circles that perfectly matched the rhythm he started inside you. You continued to grind yourself against his hand, your head tossing from side to side on the pillows as the mounting tension gathered into a tight, coiled spring, pushing a familiar sensation of warmth down your chest and into your abdomen ready to be released.
Before you could reach that pinnacle that was fast approaching at your center, the friction vanished. He removed his hands, leaving a gaping void between your legs as you lay a whimpering mess before him. You couldn't even sputter out a verbal response in protest, all you could do was let out a deep groan and claw desperately at the sheets. Blinded by frustration, you forced your head up, ready to scream at him for tearing himself away from you when you caught a glimpse of his nature unraveling before you.
He looked beyond the shadow his upper teeth cast over his eyes with a dangerous and predatory stare, before casting his palm forward in a sharp authoritative gesture. A sudden gust of wind swirled through the room, sliding you backward across the mattress. In an instant, you were perfectly repositioned as your head slid back against the plush pillows, and your legs, which had previously been draped haphazardly over the edge of the bed, were now fully laid out to expose you in all your glory.
You only caught a glimpse of him for a moment and, by god, that man started to crawl like a wolf advancing on its prey, his eyes locked on the slick cunt his fingers were in just a few moments before.
In an instant, he dove in. The same thick tongue that commandeered the space in your mouth a few minutes ago began trailing a wet line up your inner thigh, the heavy weight of his stroke causing your body to grind against his face. Your breath caught in your throat as he progressed straight for the bundle of nerves that throbbed for attention.
He paused just inches from the source of your heat, his own hot breath dancing over your skin. Looking up from beneath you, his eyes held yours with an unyielding focus, watching you and savoring this moment.
Suddenly, he buried his mouth against you, his large tongue sweeping over your skin with a desperate hunger that filled you with a mounting pressure that made your hips arch helplessly off the mattress needing more friction from his mouth.
A broken moan escaped your mouth as he anchored you down, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you perfectly still beneath him. He was an animal, drinking you in with a type of devotion that made the entire world dissolve around you as that familiar sensation began building between your thighs once again. Caine seemed to notice the shift in your breathing because his pace began to escalate to match your build-up. His tongue swiped upward with a sudden intensity and flattened against the apex directly above your core.
The heat finally spilled over the edge as a sudden wave of release crashed through your entire body as you leaned your head back into the pillow and all your muscles tightened before relaxing as you collapsed, entirely helpless under his weight.
As the final tremors of your release began to whisk away, you felt your limbs grow heavier with each deep exhale as you began to sink into the soft mattress.
Slowly opening your eyes, you caught Caine hovering above you, his massive unblinking eyes scanning your face in silence. You stared back at him as his eyes helplessly darted across your face, no longer fixated on your body like he was moments prior. You could tell that he was frantically reading you, digging beneath the surface to decipher every little expression as if your raw cries from his pleasure wasn't enough to convince him. He was waiting, practically vibrating with suspense, to hear if he lived up to your every expectation.
Caine's sudden vulnerability was a stark contrast to who he was moments prior, and you felt a tidal wave of affection rush through your chest, grabbing onto him and refusing to let him pull away again. You reached up, looping your arms around the collar of his coat and gently tugged him down until his face was resting just above yours.
"You did that to me," You whispered against his lips "You are incredible, Caine. Perfect."
The validation hit his system in a way that could be best described as the very orgasm he just gave you, a sharp shudder running through his frame under the sheer intensity of the emotional rush. A deep purr erupted from his chest, so powerful it rattled directly through your ribs as he leaned his entire weight heavily into your embrace, completely defenseless and vulnerable against your body.
His eyes held your gaze this entire time but they had softened into a doe-like innocence; from predator to someone completely defenseless against you.
Feeling him dissolve under your praise sparked a new desire in your gut, but it was different than the one he had ignited before. He had spent this whole time focused entirely on your pleasure. He mapped out your body and each rise and fall of your chest just to ensure you were satisfied. And you knew that your words of validation elicited a pleasure-adjacent response somewhere along his line of code, but you began to wonder if he was even capable of experiencing the same raw pleasure you just felt to a physical degree as well. He seemed to notice the sudden shift in your focus as he leaned in closer, his voice a curious hum. "Tell me what you're thinking, Otter Eyes."
You met his gaze, your fingers repeatedly tracing an invisible heart-shaped pattern over his lapel as you thought about how to word your question. "I was just wondering..." you murmured as you slid your palm down to his chest, feeling the hum of energy vibrating beneath the fabric. "Can you experience pleasure the same way I just did? Physically, I mean."
Caine stilled completely. For the first time ever he actually had to carefully select his words instead of just blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. "I never thought of that, I suppose. When you touch me like this, I feel something. But I'm not sure what word there is for it, Superstar."
"Alive" you whisper softly, your fingers glazing up from his chest to gently brush against one of his canines before giving it a quick peck and falling back into his arms "I think that's the word you're looking for."
Caine didn't dare move. He held you against his chest, his large gloved hands wrapping around your waist to anchor you securely against him. You could tell he never wanted this moment to pass because you felt exactly the same way. Your words seemed to trigger a sudden cascade of affection that completely bypassed his usual (but poorly-built) defenses. For a literal god capable of just about anything in the very universe he conjured, he'd never once been able to experience the warmth of another human. He squeezed you a fraction tighter before a sudden stillness washed over him.
You wondered if perhaps it could be possible. He did it for you, after all. Just this morning your own body had looked completely different before he not only coded your ability to feel pleasure, but satisfied it as well. Surely, he wasn't limited to being a detached observer. It was embedded in his coding and the entire reason for his existence to please the humans, yes, but if he had the power to do it for you - He could do it for himself. Your eyes widened at the sudden realization of how selfless he was; always trying to make the circus members happy and never once even stopping to think about what would make him happy.
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by him muttering to himself; "Alive", the word laced with a sense of serenity.
With a sharp, sudden tilt of his head, a localized flurry of neon code broke around you, the walls of his office morphing into a glowing matrix-like grid. Strings of cyan data spun rapidly around his body alongside lines of repeating binary code sprawled across the walls whilst a low thrum steadied the air.
Whatever was happening, you didn't want to interrupt it. But you could feel some sort of transformation happening beneath your very palms as the warmth emanating off his chest suddenly had more depth to it.
When the strings of code finally phased off the walls, Caine let out a fractured breath that left the air feeling heavy. He looked down at you, his eyes burning with an intense wonder as he slowly lifted one of his gloved hands, staring at his palm as if he were seeing it for the very first time.
"W-WOWZA-A@!&$" he exclaimed, his form still adjusting to the new sensations around him and glitching at the sensory overload.
You pressed your hands to your face as a giggle escaped your lips, never realizing how adorable his wacky demeanor was until now.
"M-my aud!o output appears to be..." His voice stuttered and alternated pitches as he glitched quickly between words "e3r- unc@l!brated a-@t the moment, mY Jump!ng J-J3llyb3an!"
Reaching up, you gently caught the wrist of the hand he had been staring at. The moment your bare fingers wrapped around the white fabric of his glove, Caine let out a sharp gasp.
"TH!S is wh-A@t you humAns feel?! In the R3AL w0rLd? A-aLL the t!ime! GORsh!" he exclaimed, his eyeballs bulging out of his head as a blush spread over his face. He looked from his wrist back to your face, completely unreeled by the sheer magnitude of something as simple as a single touch.
"Ehh... sort of," you drawled softly, your thumb tracing a slow circle over the back of his gloved wrist. "We got so used to it that I think it's something we just took for granted. Eventually, we stopped noticing it. I only realized how much I missed it when I first entered the circus."
Caine stilled completely at your words, the frantic glitching in his outline instantly smoothing into a quiet, heavy focus. The concept was entirely foreign to an AI who had spent an eternity starving for substance. The idea of taking the miracle that was physical touch for granted was incomprehensible.
His eyes tracked the slow movement of your thumb against his wrist, feeling the friction and heavy warmth that accompanied it.
"Do you... wanna see what you were missing out on...?" Was all you could sputter out. You'd kick yourself over your choice of wording later, as you were too busy lost in his eyes at this moment. The invitation clumsily hung in the space between you, but Caine didn't notice the awkward phrasing. He was entirely consumed by the sheer gravity of what you were offering.
His eyes drifted down to your lips which parted ever-so-slightly before darting back to your gaze. Now it was his turn to be at a loss for words, because the only reaction you could elicit out of him was a frantic nod, his teeth practically chattering at the motion.
You didn't hesitate to act on his permission, leaning in slowly with the knowledge that he was still adjusting to all the new sensations he was feeling. Your hand lightly brushed up against his inner thigh before looking back up to him for some sort of confirmation to continue what you were doing. For some validation that it was okay. The irony was not lost on you, the two of you from such vastly different worlds still somehow cut from the same cloth.
You began to move your hand up his thighs along the fine fabric of his pants, watching his hips buckle restlessly underneath the guidance of your touch. Despite every fiber of your body wanting to tear his pants off immediately, you tempered yourself, keeping your movements agonizingly slow so as to not overstimulate him with too many sensations all at once too fast. "S-Suuuperstar... I- This..." he trailed off, searching for the words to describe a feeling he'd never encountered in his life.
"You're doing so good, Caine." You reassured, your soothing voice seeming to anchor him deeper and relax into your touch.
Soon enough, the softness of his inner thighs gave way as your palms were met with a hardness that strained desperately beneath his pants. You recognized it immediately, slowly cupping the swell and tracing the shape as you flattened your palm against it. The solid heat of him blossomed against your palm as he emitted a low growl that sounded like danger, but it wasn't a growl of threat. Rather, it was the release of a god at the mercy of something as simple as your touch. The dark vibration sent a shiver directly to your core, the very testament of the dominion you held over him only turned you on more.
Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers, slowly pulling down the fabric as you took a deep breath in to brace yourself.
the image before you left you utterly breathless. An architect indeed, he had outdone himself and crafted something beyond your wildest dreams. He meticulously crafted his body and the parts that came with it to look like that of any human. He rendered himself human skin and a tone flushed with warmth that radiated against your palm.
His length was respectable by anyone's standards, let alone your own, where just about anything would have done to satiate you. But it was the girth that took you by surprise and made the air in your lungs escape in a quick squeak as you stared at the twitching fullness before you. Not a single detail was missing, from the way you felt him grow as you trailed your fingers down the shaft in awe, to how his thick member curved ever-so-slightly upwards in a way you knew would hit exactly the right spot. You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling tight.
"You said you missed human touch," he murmured, "So I thought..." He stammered across his words, feeling flustered enough as you lowered your head down to inspect even more of his architecture. "I - I thought the least I could do was make myself as human as possible for you."
"It's perfect, Caine." You whispered, finally taking your first breath since you pulled his pants down. The devotion behind his words struck you deeper than any physical touch.
You didn't waste another moment basking in the glory before you. Before either of you could say another word, you wrapped your fingers around the thickness of his cock. If the sight of it wasn't intimidating enough, your fingers struggling to contain all of him made your stomach do flips in anticipation, only imagining what it would feel like to have him inside of you.
You began to pump down his shaft before a roar erupted out of him, "GO0D GR!EF" he panted desperately, "TH!S I$s WHAT I'VE BEEN MISSING 0UT ON!?" He stammered, his hands shooting up to clutch around his molars and pull his jaw down as a deep growl thundered out of his maw.
You giggled before batting your eyes at him "I can go slower if your like" you drawled, knowing the exact reaction you'd get out of him.
"Don't. You. Dare." He rasped, the usual bravado that echoed through his voice now entirely gone and replaced with something primal.
"Well, I suppose you are the ringmaster after all" you shrugged before he melted into your touch and you continued with his show. He watched with fervor and his pelvis grinded helplessly into your palm as you fisted him, slowly picking up the pace every few pumps.
Every upward stroke coaxed an agonizing groan, the sound sometimes clipping for a brief second as he fought against your touch to contain himself. His chest heaved as he stared at your hand, utterly captivated by the fluid motions.
You could tell how close he was getting, feeling the change before you heard it in his fractured breathing. The muscles in his thighs started to flex as though he was straining against something ready to erupt. You noticed his jaw clench even tighter as he interlaced his gloved fingers through the sheets for dear life. And then you heard it - what was too quiet to notice before suddenly clicked to life as you could hear a literal fan beginning to whirr to life, the steady chop of the blades almost matching the pace of your hands.
"Ott-Ott-TTTer ah- ah- eyess..." he rasped "I think i'm.... READY TO C0mbuST."
You couldn't help but giggle at his remark, but your pace never slowed. "That's an orgasm, Caine." You replied matter of factly.
"O0oORrGa-haaaasmm..?" He heaved in a single breath "It-IT'S-" was all he said before his words were cut off, his body completely frozen. His giant eyes turned blue before you, scrawling white lines of code. You've never seen anything like it before, nor could you figure out what was happening, slowing your pace ever-so-slightly to peer closer at his eyes and see what the lines of coding were reading. The internal fan deep within his chest screamed into a high-pitched whine before ceasing immediately.
Before you could get any closer to his face, his hands broke free from the sheets and his eyes snapped back to their usual state. Only this time, they were wider and laced with something dangerous. He had the look of someone who had just experienced the most powerful thing known to man, and he intended to make the most of it.
He caught you by the waist, his large palms pressing firmly into the dips of your hips before glaring at you. His face was angled right above yours and his breathing was heavy. As he lowered his face beside yours you could feel the heat emanating from it.
"You slowed down." His voice no longer filled with desperation like it was moments prior. It rolled off his tongue, laced with power.
"I-I just didn't know what was going on" You stammered, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked up into the devious shadow cast by his upper jaw. "I was just che-"
"BUP bup!" he placed his pointer finger to your parted lips and shushed you immediately.
A sudden wave of impulse washed over you, seeing this as a challenge. It was as though you were merely a passenger in your own mind, watching yourself act on a raw desire. Instead of pulling away, your tongue slithered out, licking the length of his finger before plunging the rest of it deep into the wet heat of your mouth, sucking deliberately. You stared straight up at him, eyes wide and doe-like.
A low, dangerous vibration thrummed through Caine as his eyes dilated in shock.
"Oh... now you've truly done it," he growled, the last vestige of his restraint snapping into something feral.
He wrapped his large fingers around your wrists and pulled them above your head, the action causing him to lean close enough to feel his chest rising and falling against yours. With a swift motion, he tilted his pelvis up, pinning his twitching fullness flat against your apex with desperation. With a heavy force, he ruthlessly ground the rigid, pulsing fullness of his length flat against your sensitive spot.
A helpless gasp squeaked from your throat as the searing friction sent an electric shock straight to your core, desperate for whatever he had prepared for you. With the desperation plastered on your face begging him for more, his hips began to move in a slow, punishing rhythm. He leaned in closer, his hot breath now beside your ear as he whispered "Now... I believe this is where the real show starts" before plunging his full, uncompromising length deep within your slick core.
The impact stole any remaining breath from your lungs and his length tore through your defenses as it buried to the very root of your core. Your back arched violently off the sheets as your hands dipped into the creases of his collar and pulled his face closer to yours. Simultaneously, your legs, seemingly with a mind of their own, guided themselves to wrap around the small of his back to anchor his pelvis even closer to yours.
Above you, Caine let out a sound that was a conglomeration of a digitized screech and a raw guttural groan. He froze inside you for an agonizing second. His large hands still had your wrists secured above your head as he adjusted to the tightness of your core.
"Little Lamb..." he choked out, his voice a beautiful ruin of glitches and a deep resonant hunger.
He didn't wait for you to acclimate to his size as he watched you squirm on top of him. Driven by a sovereign instinct, he pulled back for only a fraction of a second to admire the glisten of his cock soaked in your wetness before driving himself back into you with such a force that the bedpost let out a groan against the wall. The rhythm he set was relentless, his hips slamming into yours in a desperate attempt to drown inside the only person who could make him feel so alive.
Your hips rose instinctively to meet every plunge. His angle was merciless, striking the exact sensitive spot inside you. Every thrust sent electric shockwaves of pure, blinding pleasure straight to your core. You lost control of your body as your chest heaved into the contours of his own with each moan that escaped your lips. You pressed your mouth to his chest, hoping to muffle the sounds of pleasure that escaped you so as to not draw any attention to the other circus members from your noises.
Caine seemed to take notice of this, as he pulled his chest away, his stare burning a hole into your gaze for only a moment. Without slowing the pace of his thrusts, he uncoiled the grip he had on one of your wrists to drag his thumb over your bottom lip and then pried his middle and forefinger between the top and bottom set of your teeth to keep your mouth open. His thumb hooked over your chin, holding your face exposed and vulnerable beneath him.
"Don't you dare hold back," he declared, his voice a commanding growl that only made your heart thump more against your chest.
He drove into you again, harder this time, stretching you to your absolute limit. Every deep plunge of his thick length seemed to redefine the boundaries of your own body as a loud wail rose from your chest before escaping out of your mouth and bouncing off the walls of the room.
Hearing the sound of your undoing, a look of pure triumph flared in his eyes.
"LOUUDERRR, Superstar!" He practically sang with a hint of vibrato at the end of his words. "You can do better than that, my buzzing bee," he panted, his hot breath brushing against your face as his hips slammed back into yours with a ruthless momentum.
His pace developed a torrential rhythm, without any restraint. You could tell that there wasn't any holding back now. Your hands clung to his shoulders for dear life as he used the grip on your chin to dictate the angle of your head, forcing you to look at him, to watch the greed in his eyes as he ruthlessly claimed every inch of you. You were completely at his mercy, tossing your head against the pillows as a string of helpless whimpers erupted from your lips.
The tension in your lower belly had begun to morph from what started as a swirl of warmth into a full-blown wildfire. Caine's body and rhythm only served as kindle to the aggressive blaze he lit within you. As your climax gnawed its way down each individual vertebrae of your spine, your vision began to blur and your ears started to ring, but you never once lost your sight of Caine; How threateningly beautiful he was - completely in his element, his theatrical bravado only seemed to make this moment so much more special.
You came from a world hell-bent on rules and social construct. A world that was synthetic at its core. Your arrival to the circus was met with your own apprehension, feeling as though everything around you was fake and digitally manufactured - from Caine's adventures to the circus itself. Yet in this moment, Caine was the realest thing you'd ever felt. Now, or back in the real world. He was the only thing powerful enough to break through the numbness of your isolation you felt long before you put on the headset that brought you here.
Caine curated physical sensations you didn't even know your body was capable of feeling, so you knew it wasn't all in your head. He commanded the very fabric of reality, and himself, to kneel before you with the snap of his fingers. Yet, the focus of his infinite creative power could have been narrowed down entirely to the space between your bodies. He had no one to perform for but you as he poured all of his will into making you feel alive.
The gravity of his devotion caved in on itself as he came undone before you, glitching out and unraveled by the volume of sensory data that began to overload him. The crisp edges of his velvet coat corrupted into jagged hyper-saturated pixels of neon magenta, cerulean, and lime green. He made this body for himself and was losing control of it before your very eyes as the space around his silhouette warped.
He didn't dare let that serve as a barrier to the destination he had planned for the both of you as his hips continued slamming into you, the impact starting to sound as a digitized audio crackle as he stopped caring to tend to the needs of the world he spent so much time maintaining. He wanted to focus all the energy on you now.
He opened his jaw as if about to say something, but he continued to short-circuit. Coherent sounds escaped him as any attempt at words just appeared as fragmented text logs scrawling in his eyes alongside the sounds he was making.
"Su-Su-S-S-S_[500_INTERNAL SERVICE ERROR] -S-S-SSuUP3R- [NULL]-AaaAAa-ah!" He sputtered, the text box floating in his eyes serving as a very poor translation of what he was trying to relay.
[CORE_TEMP_ERROR]
[NULL_OVERFLOW]
For only a moment, the rapid scrolls of white text across the cobalt backdrop in his eyes consolidated, forcing his code to obey his will for this one final moment. He managed to override the noise of the fans whirring in his chest to lean down, his mouth right against your temples
"You. First." He ordered, panting between his words.
The command was like a toss of gasoline into the wildfire deep within your core as you practically convulsed into an explosion of ecstasy. Your walls contracted and squeezed his thickness to the point of agony as your soaking release slickened the entirety of his length and a wail tore from your throat.
At the signal of your undoing, Caine snapped his head back. His jaw locked hard enough to grind his teeth to a fine dust as a magnificent and ruined roar echoed through the room.
Guided by an instinct you didn't know he was capable of, his hands dug into the dips of your hips with a bruising intensity as he pulled back nearly to the tip before slamming forward with apocalyptic force. The final strike buried him at your root, pinning your trembling frame into the sheets.
He purged himself into you, pouring every single byte of his existence inside of your core. His hips shuddered against yours in a final involuntary jerk, sealing you beneath his dead weight.
Slowly, the static began to recede and the world faded away, leaving only the quiet space shared between the two of you.
Caine let out a long shudder that ghosted against your clavicle. Slowly, he uncoiled his large fingers from your wrists, his touch leaving a residual phantom warmth where his grip had just been.
He shifted his weight to the side, rolling off you just enough to ease the pressure of his weight before immediately pulling you into him. His arm slid beneath your waist, yanking your exhausted body against his chest until your back was flushed against his front.
"My, my, Superstar..." Caine murmured as he nuzzled himself into the nook between your shoulder and ear. "That was... Well... Quite the performance! In fact... I believe I may have accidentally wiped the archive database at the municipal rayon of the Krasnogvardeysky District in the Republic of Adygea in trying to contain myself. I'm not quite sure how that happened, though..."
You let out a breathless laugh, still reeling in from what you two just did. Your fingers reached up to trace the edge of his hand, interlocking your fingers together, finding the contours of his grip to hold an air of desperation in each knuckle, as if he was scared to let this moment fizzle out.
"Oh. Is that all?" You teased, but an air of seriousness was plastered all over his face before he continued "Well..." he reached his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck "The intersection of South-West Jackson Street and 8th avenue in Topeka, Kansas had a momentary error as well at the traffic lights where two lanes of incoming traffic were given a green light. BUT ONLY FOR A MOMENT!"
"Honestly, Caine, your administrative oversight is slipping, if I do say so myself."
Caine let out a delighted chuckle as he pressed his teeth against the skin of your shoulder in a playful nip of affection. "Why, you audacious little human!" he gasped dramatically, though his grip only tightened around your waist to pull you in closer. "Topeka locals and the Belgorod government administration will simply have to adapt next time!"
You quirked one eyebrow at him, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Next time, you say?"
Caine froze for a fraction of a second as he grew flustered and his face began to flush "Ab-so-lute-ly, My Star!" he declared, enunciating each syllable with cadence, before staring off at the wall blankly and quickly leaning back in once again to break away from the playfulness and whisper "That... That is what you want, right...?"
You dart your eyes around the room quickly, as if someone was watching you. In that moment, you couldn't care less if someone was, it was all a play into the theatrics and game you two had going on. His energy not only grew on you, but seemed to infect you as you two grew closer together. "Yes Caine, that's very much what I want."
"Well then! The Topeka commuters will simply have to make do, then!" He proclaimed, shooting his pointer finger up in the air in this moment of declaration.
"You're terrible," you laughed, squeezing the hand he still kept firmly in your grasp
"Gasp! I am a visionary!" he corrected as he quickly propped himself up, puffing his chest out with a contented chuckle.
He settled back down into your embrace, ensuring the world couldn't touch either of you for a little while longer. The quiet hum of his internal fans whirred to a rhythm and the lingering warmth of his body began to feel like a fortress.
For the first time since you had arrived, the circus didn't feel like a prison. Rather, it was the start of something new, especially between you and Caine. On one last deep exhale against his body, you let your eyes flutter shut, drifting off into a deep sleep, content to let the rest of the universe wait a moment longer.
Caine teaching you how to play the piano by putting his hands on top of yours to guide you to the right keys on the piano.
Maybe even have him behind you while playing the piano. Feeling his artificial heartbeat on your back, with his breathing mimicking yours. His low soft voice praising you for getting keys correct without his help. The close proximity making the room feel hot.
Caine is the cane dragging you off stage to press against his side in pure bright wonder. Caine is the hand that wrap around your shoulder, his back hides you from the public's view when you're teleported into a room that no one else will ever even know about.
Caine is the gentleness in his voice when he asks you if you'd like to hangout with him. He is the light that shines when you say you want to be with him, even if temporarily.
Caine is the care in his systems, to make a new code just to quiet down his voice when he notices you get tired and sleepy. He is the offer of a rest watched over. The offer of comfort of true safety.
Caine is the focus in his hands when they crawl up your sides, smoothing out the cool fabric of your shirt against the curves of your skin. He is the blanked out look he expresses when he makes sure to get rid of any unnatural polygons in the system that may interlap with your model.
He comes back quickly to take another look at you.
Caine is the gentleness in his eyes, dilating when they catch your image.
"Where was I again?"
He is the deliberate softness of every action he takes. Atoms never touch but he holds you tight. For one frame of instance, breaking all previous rules of physics. Atoms touch, even if only for a moment.
"You...are soft."
You are the softness to his digital. His fur to his light. Its only in his world your two lives are able to ever cross. Its only in his world where you are Caine's.
Summary: A fluffy, short little scenario where you cuddle with Caine for the first time.
Contents/Possible Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff, implied smut, no actual smut, Caine being adorable, short and sweet, Gender Neutral reader
Much to your displeasure, your beloved ringmaster was nowhere to be found when you and others returned from your adventure. As much as you loved the wacky escapades the AI sent you on, you couldn't help but admit that sometimes they could be tiring, especially after you just spent the past few hours fighting for your life on a remote island that quickly turned into a 'Lord of the Flies' scenario when Jax discovered how to make a spear. All you wanted was to spend a nice, relaxing time with your favorite pair of dentures.
"Caine!" You called out, standing in the middle of the circus tent. "Where are you, sweet-tooth?"
"Wow! You've never called me that before!" Caine exclaimed, suddenly appearing behind you, eyes shining with joy. You yelped in response, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. You stumbled forward, Caine quickly grabbing you by the waist and steadying you. As you settled, you let out a laugh.
"There you are, Caine!" You grinned, turning around and wrapping him in a tight hug. "I've been looking for you. Tell me, have I ever introduced you to the human activity of 'cuddling'?" You asked, watching as his eyes widened at the new introduction.
He shook his head, pulling back to ponder the idea. "I don't think I've been taught. I suppose I have heard the word, though, something Kinger and Queenie used to do, I believe." He floated down fully, standing in front of you with curiosity. "Show me!"
You reached your arms out, lifting Caine up in them, thanking yourself silently for your digital body's strength as the ringmaster let out a small squeak in shock, clearly not having been picked up before. "We're going to my room, we'll need lots of pillows and a comfy space."
Caine tilted his head in confusion before his eyes narrowed. "This isn't something that'll trigger the filter, is it...?" He inquired, folding his arms as you walked, carrying him to your room. You let out another laugh, shaking your head. "No, Caine. Not unless you want it to." You grinned, watching with teasing satisfaction as the AI blushed.
Once you reached your room, you walked in, closing the door before plopping yourself and Caine on the bed, snuggling up to him and holding him close. You lay your head on his chest, taking note that he smelled almost like a stereotypical circus: cotton candy and buttered popcorn. You couldn't help but wonder if that was something he did on purpose to better fit into his digital setting.
"Is this 'cuddling'?" Caine asked innocently, letting you cling to him, but not yet reciprocating. "Am I doing this right?" He asked, looking into your eyes for approval. You smiled, gently reaching out and grabbing his arms, loosely wrapping them around you. He blinked, quiet for a moment, before catching on, snuggling up to you, eyes closing in comfortable silence.
"This is nice. You're so warm." He murmured. "I love humans so much. I love you so much."
