Kalina: Look at this. Not even five minutes after we arrived, the first huntress appeared near him. Impressive.
Farah: Oh! She's someone's mistress, Moonbug. You think we should rescue William?
Kalina: Let's wait a little longer. I'm curious to see how our old King gets out of this on his own. Listen to how she tries to appease him - speaks like honey...
ŠŃŠµŠ²Š½ŃŠ¹ ŠŗŠ¾Š¼Š±Š°Ń Š¼ŠµŠ“ŠøŠŗ. Seorang permaisuri dari zaman silam.
And now? William Solaire's front-liners, confidants and close friends.
As one of the few Old Bloods under William, Kalina and Farah serves many roles in the Clan - including bodyguarding the King during the Monarchal Summit.
(The deadly and beautiful Kalina belongs to the amazing @moonandstarlightsposts, while Farah is my REDACTED OC. Thank you so much, Broccoli, over on Twitter for taking on my second commission!)
Sorry if this is a bother but do you still have a copy of your old consort of chaos fic?
Got struck with the sudden urge to reread it in the middle of the night and after having a thing happen a couple weeks ago that wiped my downloads clean I went to go to redownload it and find out itās not up anymore
I just really enjoyed it and after a few hours I figured out you had a tumblr and thought Iād ask (ā„ļ¹ā„) sorry if this is a bother
Nah, you're good. Wow. Consort of Chaos. What a throwback.
Yeah, I got a copy. DM me for the Google Doc link.
You and Caleb are accidentally hurled two years into the future, straight into his apartment. Trapped in a closet, youāre forced to watch your future selves fuck like theyāve been starving for each other.
The art that inspired this fic: https://x.com/i/status/2077008975359525093
The heat at Grandma's house during peak summer was its own particular brand of suffering. It wasn't the same as the sharp dry heat of the city, this was heavy and wet and it made the air taste like cut grass and warm concrete. By ten in the morning you'd already sweated through your first shirt. By noon you'd given up on doing anything productive.
Which was how you and Caleb ended up in the kitchen at two in the afternoon, arguing about stupid stuff, because there was nothing else to do.
"We're out of green onions," he announced with his head inside the fridge. "And ginger. Grandma said we have to buy soy sauce and it has to be the right brand."
"Which brand?"
He turned around with an expression that said he had absolutely no idea.
"Great," you said. "Really helpful."
"She showed me once. It has a red label. Or maybe yellow." He pulled out a tote bag from the cabinet and dropped it on the counter in your direction. "We'll figure it out when we're there."
"The market is a fifteen minute walk in this heat."
"Then we should leave now."
"Calebā"
He was already heading for the door. "Come on."
You grabbed the bag and your sunglasses and followed him out into the heat, which hit you like a wall the second you stepped off the porch.
The neighborhood was quiet on summer afternoons, everyone wanted to be inside with their fans on. You walked beside Caleb through streets you'd both known since childhood, past the park, past the corner ice cream store with the faded awning, past Mrs. Yuen's house with the wind chimes that had been making the same sound for fifteen years.
He was telling you about an incident with a new recruit that had happened at a training exercise last month and you were laughing.
"Did he get hurt?" you managed.
"Bruised his ego more than anything." Caleb pushed your sunglasses up. "Poor guy spent the rest of the session pretending it hadn't happened."
The market was cool and smelled like the same brand of air freshener they'd been using since you were ten. You grabbed a basket and split off toward the vegetables while Caleb wandered in the direction of the snack aisle, which āyou'd learned over years of shared grocery runsā meant you were going to spend the next several minutes complaining about his choices.
You found the green onions. Found the ginger. Turned the corner into the snack aisle and found Caleb standing in front of the chips with two bags in his hands, deliberating.
"We don't need chips," you said.
"Yes we do."
"We have food at home."
"Chips are not food, chips are a separate category." He held them both up. "Salt and vinegar or barbecue."
"Neither. We're here for dinner ingredients."
"And chips." He put the barbecue in the basket.
You took it out. He put it back in.
"Caleb."
"It's for the walk home. You'll want some on the walk home."
"You are soā" You stopped, pointed at his chest. "Fine. One bag. And you're carrying it."
He was already reaching for a second one.
"One bag."
"Salt and vinegar for you, barbecue for me. That's technically one bag each which isā"
"That's two bags."
"One per person."
You let him keep both bags because the alternative was standing in the snack aisle for another five minutes.
The soy sauce took longer. You found the section, found approximately ten different brands, and stood there for a moment in silence.
"Red label or yellow?" you said.
"I said I wasn't sure."
"You said you'd seen it."
"I'd seen it, I didn't memorize it."
"Caleb, if we get the wrong oneā"
He picked one up, turned it over, put it back. Picked up another. "This one looks right."
He put it in the basket and you picked up a different one, compared the labels side by side, and put his back and kept yours.
He switched them back the moment you turned away.
------
You were outside, bag on Caleb's shoulder, chips already open when your hunter's watch went off.
The sound cut straight through everything. Your hand was in the chip bag one second and at your holster the next, the muscle memory of it faster than conscious thought. The screen had gone red.
Wanderer detected. Class: High energy anomaly. Proximity: 100 meters.
Caleb stepped in close "Behind the market. Let's go."
You were already moving.
---
The alley ran behind a row of shops, narrow and shadowed, the air warping at the far end and that meant the Wanderer had already been there long enough to disturb local reality. You pulled your gun and kept your back to the wall, moving fast. Caleb came in on the other side, gravity already building at his hands, the air around his knuckles bending in a way that meant he was ready.
The Wanderer was enormous, the geometry of it not quite making sense no matter which angle you looked from. It moved fast for something that size, swinging a limb in your direction before you'd fully cleared the corner.
You fired twice. The shots connected and it shrieked, momentum redirected enough that the hit meant for you shattered a section of wall instead.
"Flank!" Caleb called.
You were already going wide. He pulled gravity in from the left, compressing the Wanderer's movement, slowing it just enough for you to get behind it and put three more shots into the joint where two of its limbs connected. It screamed and lurched sideways.
"Keep it off the street," you yelled over the noise.
"Working on it." He dragged it backward with a gravity pull that made the pavement crack under the force of it, steering it further into the alley.
It was not a clean fight. It kept redirecting, slamming into the walls, filling the alley with debris that you had to dodge while maintaining your sight lines.
Eventually the thing started to slow. Eventually it disappeared.
Then you saw it.
On the ground where the Wanderer had dissolved ā a Protocore, small, throwing off an iridescent white that you'd never seen from a Wanderer before.
"That's not standard," Caleb said, coming to stand beside you. He crouched down to look at it without touching it. "I've never seen one this color."
"Me neither." You holstered your gun. "I should take it to HQ."
"Agreed." You crouched beside him, reaching for the core at the same time he did, and your hands closed around it simultaneously.
White light erupted.
It collapsed inward, pulling everything āsound, light, air, the alleyā into a point of white noise and wind, and then nothing, a few seconds later there was a floor coming up very fast.
You hit the carpet with a thud that knocked the breath out of you.
Caleb landed beside you, one arm slamming down to catch his weight before he pushed himself up.
"Are you hurt," he said, breathing hard.
You did a fast inventory. "No. You?"
"No." He looked up. Looked around.
You were inside a huge apartment. Carpeted floor and warm light from the windows. A long couch. A coffee table with papers on it. A mug. A jacket draped over the back of a chair.
Someone's apartment.
You stood up slowly. Caleb was already at the bookshelf, and you followed, and then you saw the first photo and everything in your chest felt strange.
It was you. You and Caleb, standing somewhere sunny, laughing at something out of frame. You were wearing a jacket you didn't own. His hair was slightly different, grown out and pushed back.
There were more. The two of you at a restaurant, faces close across a small table. A shot of you asleep on a couch, and Caleb sitting at the other end with a book, but whoever had taken the photo had caught him looking at you and not at the page.
Your throat felt tight.
"This is my apartment," Caleb said quietly, from somewhere to your left.
You turned to look at him. He was looking at the leather jacket on the chair. His leather jacket, the one currently in his wardrobe back at the base. A pilot's manual on the shelf, the same one he'd been working through. A mug from the Farspace Fleet. A framed photo of your grandmother that matched the one at home.
"The photosā" you started.
"I know."
He crossed to the coffee table, picked up the newspaper and scanned the top page. He held it out.
The date at the top was two years from now. Exactly two years.
---
You spent the rest of the afternoon going through the apartment with careful attention, very aware you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be. You were trying to understand what the last two years had produced.
Caleb's future self left notes everywhere. Fridge, desk, bathroom mirror. His handwriting but with a different quality to it, more settled. There were more photos than you'd first noticed ā tucked into the edges of the mirror in the hallway, stuck to the inside of a cabinet. A birthday card in your handwriting on the desk, standing open. A second toothbrush in the bathroom.
You both looked at that for a moment.
"I'm not going to say anything about any of this," you said finally, standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed.
"Good call," Caleb said, from the doorway.
"I'm āthis is a lot of information."
"It is."
"And I'm not drawing any conclusions."
He went quiet.
The sun went down. The apartment went from warm gold to dark while you sat on the floor of the living room eating crackers you'd found in the cabinet, your backs against the couch, the Protocore sitting on the coffee table throwing faint white light across the ceiling.
"We'll figure out how to get back," Caleb said.
"I know."
"Same energy that brought us here should be able toā"
"Caleb, I know. I'm not panicking."
He looked at you sideways. "You're quieter than your normal quiet."
"I'm just thinking."
He nodded slowly. Ate a cracker. Didn't push it, he knew when to let something sit. Almost two decades of knowing each other and he'd learned exactly where the lines were.
You were about to say something else when you heard it.
Voices outside.
Both of you were on your feet before the door handle moved. Caleb stepped toward the entryway on pure instinct and you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled.
"Don't," you said, low and fast.
"I just want to seeā"
"You cannot make contact with yourself. Do you understand what that does to the timeline? Do you understand what happens if you alter something?"
"I wasn't going to ā"
"Caleb." You got in front of him, hands on his chest, looking up at him with full seriousness. "We hide. Right now. We have to wait."
He looked at the door. The handle was starting to move.
"Fine," he said before he grabbed the protocore and then your wrist to pull you toward the hallway closet in two long strides, opening it fast and pulling you in after him, easing the door shut.
The closet was full. Coats, bags, a stack of boxes on the floor that immediately became a problem because you had nowhere to step back, which meant you were now pressed against Caleb from your shoulders to your knees.
You could feel every breath he took.
"This is very small," you whispered.
"I know," he said, directly behind your ear.
His arms were on either side of you because there was nowhere else for them. His chin was above your head. You could feel him making adjustments to keep whatever minimal distance physics was willing to offer, and it was working as well as you'd expect. Which was not well.
You were two childhood friends in a closet in an apartment that was apparently his, two years in the future, surrounded by photographic evidence of something neither of you had said out loud yet, and he was doing his very best not to press against you and his very best was losing badly to the laws of spatial reasoning.
The front door opened.
Through the slats of the closet door, the living room light clicked on.
"I told you." Your own voice, but looser, threaded through with laughter that had a very specific quality to it. "I told you we shouldn't have had that last drink."
"Yeah," came the reply. Caleb's voice, except it was rougher and stripped of the easy warmth you knew and replaced with something that made the back of your neck prickle. "You were flirting with the bartender just to watch me lose it."
"Maybe I was." Future you sounded unrepentant about this.
Through the slats you watched two people stumble into the living room and your brain took several seconds to process what your eyes were seeing. She was in a dress, form fitting, gorgeous, currently half unzipped down the back. Future Caleb had shed his jacket somewhere between the door and the living room, his shirt untucked with half the buttons open, chest visible, hair slightly wrecked.
Behind you, Caleb had gone completely rigid. You felt it happen, every muscle in his body locking up at once.
Then future Caleb grabbed future you by the waist and walked her backward into the living room wall.
The impact was loud. What followed was louder, the sound of them kissing, which was not the word for what was happening, kissing implied something with more restraint than this. Future Caleb had his hands in her hair and on her waist and sliding down to bunch the fabric of her dress up her thighs, all at the same time.
You made a sound you hadn't planned on making.
Caleb's hand came over your mouth so fast you didn't even see it coming, his palm pressing firm and warm against your lips, his forearm across your collarbone. His chest was heaving against your back and something else was pressing against the small of your back that you were both absolutely not acknowledging.
You made a muffled sound against his hand anyway.
His arm tightened.
Future Caleb pulled back just far enough to speak "You want to play games tonight?" A pause, heavy with intent. "Let's find out how loud I can make you scream."
He pushed his hand up her skirt.
You'd never made that sound in your life. Or apparently you would. In two years. Against that wall.
"Calebāwait, waitāthe couchā"
That was it. That was enough. Your hand shot out in the dark and found the closet door handle and you grabbed it.
Caleb's hand came off your mouth and closed around your wrist, pulling it back against you, his mouth dropping to your ear.
"Don't you dare," he breathed.
"We have to stop watching thisā" you hissed.
"If you open that door they'll see usā"
"Then they see usā"
"And alter the timeline," he said. "Your words. Two minutes ago."
He was right and it was the worst possible moment for him to be right.
"Justā" His voice came out strained "Just don't move."
"Calebā"
"I'm a guy, and you are literally grinding into me," he snapped softly, though there was no real anger in it. His forehead dropped briefly to the back of your head. "Just..." sigh "give me a second."
Outside the closet Caleb lifted her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her the few steps to the couch and dropped her onto it.
His hands yanked the straps of her dress down, baring her breasts. He pinched a nipple, and she arched with a sharp cry. "You are so fucking wet already. Been thinking about my cock all day? Want me to stretch that pretty pussy out right here?"
"Yesāfuck, Caleb, touch me," she gasped, hips grinding up.
Your breath hitched. Heat flooded between your legs, sudden and embarrassing. Caleb's cock twitched against your ass and you had to bite your lip to stay quiet.
Future Caleb reached down and shoved his pants off. You couldn't look away. He was big, thick, flushed, veins standing out. Ready.
Panic hit you. "Don't look," you whispered frantically. "That's... me. Turn around or do somethingā"
"Like hell," he said against your ear, teeth grazing the shell. "You're the one staring. You like seeing him like that? Seeing what Iā what he wants to do to you?"
"Caleb, shut up," you whimpered, thighs pressing together.
He didn't fuck her right away. He grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the edge of the couch, and spread her wide. Dropped to his knees.
"Calebā" she started, but it dissolved into a broken moan as he buried his face between her legs.
The sound of his tongue working her was loud and messy, completely shameless. Her head dropped back against the cushions, fingers twisted tight into the fabric, her whole body shaking every time he dragged his tongue over her clit in greedy strokes. He licked broad stripes up her slit before focusing on her clit again, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan.
"Fuck, you taste so good,āCaleb growled against her pussy, voice muffled but clear enough to carry.
"Just like that babyā she moaned, one hand fisting his hair, the other still twisting in the couch cushion.
He pinched her nipple hard with his free hand, rolling it between his fingers as he sucked harder. Her thighs trembled around his head.
Behind you, Caleb let out a broken groan that made your knees go soft. His arm snapped around your waist, holding you steady, fingers digging into your hip the exact same way his future self was gripping her out there.
āFuck,ā you whispered, head falling back against his shoulder before you could stop yourself. Your pussy was throbbing, aching so bad it almost hurt.
āListen to that. Listen to how wet you get for me.ā Caleb shifted his hips, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your jeans, dragging the seam right over your soaked cunt.
On the couch, she was losing it. "I need you inside me. I canāt wait anymore.ā
Future Caleb pulled back, mouth shiny, breathing hard. He stroked himself once, twice, then lined up and drove into her in one rough thrust. Her legs wrapped around him as he started fucking her deep and hard, the couch creaking like it might give out any second. His back and ass flexed with every thrust, hips snapping forward. āGonna come on my cock like a good girl?ā
He leaned over her, one hand pinning her thigh higher as he fucked her. āGonna fill you up. Want you leaking my cum the rest of the night. You love being my dirty little slut, donāt you? Say it.ā
āOh my god,ā you choked, voice barely there. Watching yourself get railed like thatāby himāwas too much. The guy whose arms were currently locked around your waist, the same guy youād known since you were kids, was pounding into a future version of you like he owned her.
She gasped between moans, nails now digging into his back. āYesāyour slut, Calebāharderāā
āThatās my girl.ā His hips snapped faster āCome on my cock like you did last night."
In the closet, Calebās forehead dropped to your shoulder, his cock twitched hard against your ass, hips making tiny, helpless thrusts.
You couldnāt tear your eyes away, every filthy word making the ache between your legs worse.
āJesus,ā Caleb whispered raggedly āWe really talk like that?ā
You twisted hard, trying to turn around in the cramped space so you wouldnāt have to see it anymore.
āStop moving,ā Caleb gasped, his control fraying fast as your ass rubbed right over the head of his cock.
āI canāt watch thisālet me turnāā
Your foot caught on a heavy boot buried in the mess at the bottom of the closet. Balance gone.
āWhoaāā Caleb grabbed for you, but it was too late. Your combined weight slammed into the door.
The cheap magnetic latch popped open with a sad little click.
The squeaking of the couch cut off like someone had yanked the plug on the whole universe.
The silence that followed rang in your ears. You pushed up on your elbows, face so hot you were surprised you hadnāt spontaneously combusted. Caleb was beside you, shirt rucked up, the very obvious, very hard line of his erection pressing against your thigh.
You both slowly turned your heads toward the couch.
A few meters away, future Caleb was frozen mid thrust, hands locked on future youās hips, his body still buried deep inside her. She had one leg hooked high around his waist, hair a wild mess, chest heaving. Both of them stared at you with identical expressions of what the actual fuck.
They were a sweaty, flushed disaster, very naked and very, very mid fuck.
āWhat theā¦ā future Caleb started.
Future you blinked slowly. āIs thatā¦ us?ā
You opened your mouth, brain offering the most useless sentence in history. āWe were just looking for soy sauceāā
The white light from the Protocore exploded again. The apartment, the couch, your naked and extremely confused future selvesāall of it ripped away in a roar of rushing air.
Thud.
You hit the dirty alley hard enough to knock the wind out of you again.
Caleb groaned beside you, flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in sharp pulls. You could still feel the ghost of his hardness against you, the way his fingers had dug into your hip in the closet. Your own body was still buzzing, thighs slick, pulse pounding between your legs like a second heartbeat.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then Caleb let out a shaky laugh that sounded half hysterical. āSoy sauce. Really?ā
You rolled onto your side, wincing at the scrapes on your elbows. āIt was the first thing that came to mind, okay? We just watched ourselvesā I mean, theyā we wereāā You gestured vaguely, face burning all over again. āYou know.ā
āYeah,ā he said quietly. āI know.ā
He sat up slowly and ran a hand through his hair. The front of his shorts was still a bit tented. He didnāt bother trying to hide it. You werenāt exactly in a position to judge, your nipples were tight against your shirt, and you were pretty sure your face was the color of a ripe tomato.
The protocore gave one last weak shimmer and dissolved into harmless blue dust that scattered across the pavement.
Caleb looked at you. āSoā¦ two years from now, huh?ā
You swallowed. āApparently we, uhā¦ figured some things out.ā
He huffed another laugh, but it was softer this time. Almost wondering. He reached over and brushed a bit of alley dirt off your cheek with his thumb. The touch lingered.
āWe should probably goā
You nodded, but neither of you stood up right away. The air between you felt thicker than the summer humidity, charged with everything youād just seen and felt in that stupid closet.
Calebās gaze dropped to your mouth for a second, then flicked back up. āWhen we get back to the houseā¦ā
āYeah?ā you whispered.
He smiled, small and crooked and a little nervous, the same smile heād given you a thousand times growing up, except this one felt different.
āIām not waiting two years,ā he said.
Your heart did something complicated in your chest.
You grabbed his hand, pulled him up with you, and the two of you started walking out of the alley like nothing had happened.
But everything had happened.
And as your fingers brushed again while you walked, neither of you pulled away.
love language šą§ baroness (reader) x castin hammer
cw: aftercare, suggestive šą§ for the dearest darling ever: @themonotonysyndrome
Castin had a particularly riveting duality about him; kindess that would give a goldren retriever a run for it's money, and simulatenousy having the capacity to pack a dominance that left you sweetly sore for days at a time.
To have somebody not only seemingly sculpted by the greek gods themselves, but also have that same person be completely and totally devoted to your pleasure, was a welcomed amelioration compared to past lovers. Commanding was a skill he'd learned, and was rarely a proficiency he stored away unless needed. Fortunately, it was competency you eagerly allowed.
"Sweetheart," A tentative hand brushes the sensitive skin on your plush thighs, the cold a distinct difference compared to the heat that your body was still carrying, the typical aftermath of a night of utter devotion. "Let's get you and that pretty face cleaned up, yeah?"
It sounded like a question, but in the undertone it was evident it was anything but a mere suggestion. The actions that followed proved your analysis right; as strong arms envelop under your knees and under your back, scooping you bridal-style into your arms.
The en suite is dimly lit, droplets of water decorating the marble floors from your forgotten bath together, and that's clearly cold to the touch as Castin humorously hisses, the air between his teeth forming a soft whistle; and you can't help but smile at the disgruntled look on his face.
"My pain is funny to you. Glad to know where we are in this marriage. I have a wife who enjoys my misery -"
Playfully rolling your eyes, smile widening as the fog of tiredness in your visions clears, you interject in a way that would make nobles recoil. "You're possibly the profusely dramatic Commander of an army I've ever met. How you get anything done, I'll never know."
As you turn to look up at him, his eyebrows pull together, and with the expressive eyes of an Intacian, he looks genuinely confused and simultaneously exasperated.
"You've met other Commanders?" He asks with a tone of pure mirth, while the subtle grip on your body tightens despite the rhetorical question. You refrain from compelling him to go again, reminding yourself of your sensitivity.
Propping you up onto the counter, you exhale deeply, rewarding exhaustion flooding throughout your body but your mind still active and alive. "You also have a wife whom you've thoroughly worn out. I feel it's only fair, husband."
Castins mumbles what sounds like a "yeah, yeah" as he grabs a fresh towel from the stacked bunched that are warmed, per your request. Your eyes are slowly opening and closing, but you know what he's doing as running water can be heard, muffled by the sound of the cloth soaking it up.
You shiver subtly, your body suddenly aware of the temperature as your body still comes down from the multiple highs. Fully opening your eyes, Castins head quickly cranes in your direction, looking you up and down like you would to check for injuries.
Realizing there's no injury, but rather just chills, he tentatively places a hand on your extended leg, thumb brushing over the prominent goosebumps. The warmness kept you grounded, clearly comforting as you feel inclined to let your head rest against the mirror on the wall.
Finally, Castin moves to stand in front of you, eyes with a meticulous glint as he brings the towel between your legs.
"Did so good for me tonight, babygirl," he gently moves his hand to caress your face, working the towel and lightly pressing it against the sensitive skin there. Planting a thoughtful kiss on your cheek, he beams with pride when you lovingly purse your lips for a peck. "Get to take care of you. So damn cute, all for me."
a/n: castin & the baroness remind me of the positions album soo bad, my babies. this ones short n sweet. :,)
tease the wrong man, he'll make you understand šą§ wajid x vp | mdni
cw: spanking, degrading šą§
The art of teasing. Luring in an unsuspecting individual with a wielded tongue and a concealed motive. The fun part was that it could be considered abstract. Ensuring and insinuating that what you may or may not have could be theirs, taunting them with the idea like a figurine.
Your method, like most seductresses, was playful, yet bordering on mere torment. So what? Men made it easy, after all. Is it really your fault that they tend to be the easiest creatures on the planet?
And when your boss who undoubtedly has a power over you that may or may not put you back in chains and in the sheets of the man you conned, teasing is really your only remedy and way to make him suffer "inadvertently". You weren't naive, you were firmly aware of the arousal spell you'd casted onto Wajid the moment his wife had answered the door.
Things you knew were true:
One, you added a little more of a sway to your hips when you knew he was watching.
Two, when you'd go to your closet in the mornings you'd select the most subtly sexy yet work appropriate outfit you could.
Three, your pettiness outweighed your maturity when it came to Wajid.
You weren't sure there was exactly any word to describe the feeling that ignited beneath the thick skin you'd quietly took pride in when your boss would make subtle remarks about the power imbalance that remained true between you two until the law keeping you obedient to him was abolished.
When his ultimatium was put onto the table, you'd decided from there on out you'd make a mental note of everything that unleashed the version of Wajid that barked out how you were his and no one elses. Not because you enjoyed it persay, moreso because it was enticing watching him try so hard to convince himself and furthermore get you to agree.
One thing you two shared was your dedication to intention. Everything had a reason, a motive. One that served you and left fuck all to anyone else. Dog eat dog, kill or be killed, eat or be eaten.
So... with all being said, why truly don't you understand why your bent over Wajids desk right now?
"You're mine to protect VP," with another mean thrust, damp skin collides, providing an erotic sound that would be intimate if it weren't for your matched aggression. The growl in his voice is unmistakable and makes you clench around him, bouncing back and meeting his thrust with equal fervor. "Feels like you always forget that, huh? Whisper into the ear of Craig aallll you want, but he's not the one making you cry and cum on his dick. He's not the one who keeps your secret safe."
The unbearable reminder hits your in your core, the feeling only being described as weird as it mixes with the utterly delicious curve of his dick hitting the spot that deduces your brain and core to mush. It feels pornographic, really. Then the words register. Craig?
Thats what this was about. The board meeting. Your mind quickly flashes in and out of the memory. Craig had leaned over, whispered something in your ear that is now unintelligible as Wajid twists his fingers between your hair, the pain and pleasure making you moan.
That was the extent of the memory, and clearly whatever you hadn't remembered from a meaningless encounter clearly stuck with Wajid as he just drives into you over and over again with pure frustration, balls heavy as they slap against your ass.
"Gonna fuck into you so deep you'll feel me forever, won't be able to ever get me out." He grunts, tugging your hair back further and making you arch your back as he attempts to look at the cock-drunk mess you were.
You laugh a tired laugh, the uncomfortable sensation of feeling the tiny dribble of drool run out the side of your lip and down your chin. Not being able to think straight, you dont discern where exactly he is, until you feel his tongue drag along your chin, disgustingly lapping up your drool before he kisses and sucks your lips.
It's gross, really. You'd both came multiple times at this point, cum dripping onto the floor, clothes dishelved, spit and sweat covering both of your bodies and it not even being your own. You were boths wrecks, but too much of wrecks to care what the fuck you looked like.
"This hair -" he manages to growl out, "thought you were all fuckin' cute letting it down for him," his palm meets your ass, making you shriek and whine as you just sat there and took it. "little does he, or anyone, know that you spend most of your nights with this pretty hair being pulled by the man they think you hate."
The design sheets on the table were long forgotten, scattered among you, a few resting under your arms, others on the floor. Sticky champagne on the desk and floor. "You're gonna be here the whole night if I have anything to say about it, sweetheart."
That'd be the first thing he's said in a long time that you believe.
a/n: omg i am so back, btw. it's a bit half-assed, but this is the first thing i've written in months so pls. also new post format ! šą§
My mouth? Physically drop when I reached the smut sdjfbsdjfdsf
And the HAIIIIRRRRR! You know Wajid always having to bring up VP's hair. URGH! The man is so WEEEAAAKKKK to it jksdnfksdfdf
This was an amazing treat.
And you know what? I think Wajid would think that kissing VP while they were fucking would the final line that he would crossed (in mind, like, he's still trying to rationalise this), but it would be a great power move in bed if it was VP who did it first. It would start planting seeds in his mind. Like, does that mean she actually has feelings for him?
Hi mono, I know it's been a long time but I wanted to say that I went to Japan recently! And bought way too much Malleus merch :D
I now have a shelf of acrylic stands, 4 plushies sitting on my bed, a fully decked out ita bag, a second ita bag on the way, 3 more plushies in the ita bag, and 4 prints tapped to my wall. (don't ask how much I spent, I don't know)
How have you been? ^^
Hey Ryn! Happy to hear from you. I'm doing ok; just hanging in there.
Oooh, someone went shopping in Japan! I hope you had lots of fun~
i have a sneaking suspicion that youāve already discussed this on here but alas
hoowwww do we think the guys like to be spoiled š or their love languages š
castin i feel has already expressed this and has said he enjoys the quality time as well as physical touch but im unsure about the others
head pat & smooch
Addie! Blowing kiss for you too~
I think they range from physical touches to just showing their presence in litte things that matters you know? Like, sure, Castin would always ask if his wife wants a hug (sometimes when he notices that she's in dire need of one) and Warren would probably show it in the form of new notepads for Cupcake with the covers he knows she would like.
ā¦..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.Ā
i was #thinking, and like, what do we think our main boys reactions be to their listener being clingy?
just a thought. mwah.
Addie! Yeah, I'm just tryna hang in there. What about you? How are you?
Oooh, clingy Listener for a change, eh? This should be fun~
Castin Hammer:
A clingy Baroness makes one Castin Hammer a very happy boy. Oh, he's just soaking up the attention, and he doesn't even need to know why! A simple, "What are you doing, my love?" and Castin beaming and immediately switches to cuddling mode.
Basically, this man doesn't need no tsundere-like excuses from his wifey. If she's even remotely showing any physical sign of clinginess? Castin will be all over her~
Rhett
I think he would tease the Queen when she gets all clingy, but secretly? He loves it. He treats this rare side of her as a delightful little surprise. I can see the Queen being clingy in ways like wanting to hug him more often or having more meal time together.
And good on Rhett for indulging her every time!
Warren
Oh? A clingy Cupcake? What a surprise! I think Cupcake is someone who likes to maintain her boundaries, and the last thing she wants is to make Warren uncomfortable.
But!
On the off chance that she feels frightened over a sudden lightning strike or thunder, I can see her shyly trying to stay close to Warren. And in return? Warren would at first lowkey rage-bait her, secretly trying to distract whatever it is that's bothering her but then he'll wrap his broad arm around her shoulder and pulls her close.
WAJID
VP? Clingy! Hah! Don't make her laugh. And to be up and all over THAT kind of man? She's rather slit her own throat!
Meanwhile, Wajid simply sighs and refills the box of honey sticks on his table after VP burst into his office to deliver a meaningless report for the fifth time in that afternoon.
This oneshot/drabble is for the @totallynotashieldagent because I was on the fence with Valko (not hating him, was just waiting to see what he would bring to the table, but now... yeah. Still shocked), but I really enjoyed her Valko drabbles, so I wanted to try writing for it too. Her premise is so cute!
Oh, and happy birthday! May you have a wonderful celebration.
-
Something More
Right here, right now, Valko is making a call. An executive decision, if you will, before any of his cousins could use it against him:
It's coincidence. A random turn of events. Fate, for the more romantically-inclined relatives on his Mum's side.
In no way shape or form is Valko stalking you on a fateful Saturday morning, where he just so happen be walking down a random street of a city he more or less owns. So it's totally concidence that when he turns left, he sees you during your nail appointment.
(And it's totally not because he overheard you were chatting with one of his employees beside the water cooler that you were planning to treat yourself this weekend by doing your nails. Nope. Nada. Nu-uh.)
The wolf in him whines, low and keening; deeply offended but not at you, no. Never. It paws at the glass panel separating your world and his, and frankly, the thing is beginning to piss him off. Already, he had no choice but to resort to stealing your time like some kind of cat burglar during work hours. It's gotten to a point that ignoring his employees' incredulous expressions every time he drops by at the pantry just to catch you for something as minor as, "Hey, can we talk about the report you submitted? Which, you could've put it straight on my desk, by the way. You don't have to email me. You can also just hand it to me face to face. Also, you're not in trouble. I-I just wanted to make that clear andā" had become second nature. The first is the instinctive pull towards you. A magnet that helpless drags him and god, he wouldn't want it any other way.
Not to mention how unbelievably beautiful you look underneath warm fluorescent light right now.
A sudden flash startled him. Only when Valko blinked his teary eyes did he realise that your nail technician was the one snapping his photo from behind the window... with you staring at him with the same face that his employees wear lately. He can feel the heat climbing up from his neck, embarrassed.
Oh shoot, how long was I staring like a creep? Valko chewed at his lip, resisting the urge to find a comfortable hole to crawl into, though he panic when your eyebrows slowly begin to climb. What am I doing? You're definitely going to think I'm actually a creep!
And so, without a thought or so much of a game plan, he made a mad dash inside, shoving the door open. The bell above chimes, and at his sudden entrance, everyone glances at him; they, too, are startled over the appearance of the huge man.
Now he really wants that hole.
Valko has long cemented his place at the top of the food chain, both politically and in his career, but the many stares of confused women, some of them old enough to be his grandmother, made his eyes dart about uneasily.
"...Mr. Ao?" You call out to him, just as confused. "What are you doing here?" Your hands are still prim on the fuzzy table. Cute stars littered on your artificial nails.
He walks-shuffles (not rush!) to where you are. Carefully squeezing through two carts, suddenly painfully aware of his size. "H-Hey! Thought I saw your from outside. Coincidence, amirite?"
"Uh..."
"Also, please, you can call me Valko, remember?"
The nail technician isn't impressed with the exchange at all. "You plan on doing your nails too, handsome? No? Then get out."
"No, no wait! I'm here to pay for her appointment." He then whips you, hesitant but so sincere. "Can I pay for your appointment?"
"No, thank you."
Once again, the wolf keens, but this time, hurt at the rejection of its Mate, and Valko is torn. The world might have paused because, on the one hand, he needs to do something to fix thisĀ asap,Ā and on the other, he's committing every micro tic on your face to memory. You're very expressive, which he was delighted to learn from the moment he met you. You wield politeness like a fine blade, but your face could never lie. Like right now, despite the placid curve of your lips that practically screams 'Would that be all Mr. Ao?', your brows are knitted in a, 'Oh god, what the heck is happening? Is this really happening right now?' kind of way.
It's cute. You're cute.
"I can't bear to watch this. Young man!" One of the elderly women, who was in the midst of getting her pedicure, calls out. Both you and him flinches but immediately straighten. "Tell her you'll pay for all her future appointments instead. She's a hard-working woman with her own money, you know. You have to offer something more worthwhile."
You were completely flabbergasted. "H-How..."
The elderly woman rolled her eyes. "I've seen you around these parts more times than my own grandchildren. Well?"
Valko immediately whips back to you, desperate for your reply.
"But he's my client-boss. That would be inappropriate!"
The elderly woman's friend, who had been watching the interaction like her favourite drama, has been waiting to intervene, judging by the brightness of her eyes. Like a wolf locked on a scent. Honestly, Valko can respect that. "Ah, but neither of you is on the clock right now, yes? Live a little! You, kids, are young and besides..." Here, the woman leans forward, grinning impishly. "I think he has a crush on you!"
Yup, definitely going to bury himself in a hole somewhere after this.
You duck your head shyly while your nail technician pats your hand in comfort. The last thing Valko wants is to make you uncomfortable.
"I... I didn't mean to barge in like this, or interrupt your weekend. I'm sorry." He scratches his head and... what the heck, might as well. "If you let me, I'll be more than happy to cover for your future appointments."
That made you raise an eyebrow; clearly, you didn't expect him to actually do it. And thatās not just what I'm willing to do to have a bit of your time, Valko thought.
"And what would you want in return?" You reply, humouring him, though he can see that you're slowly opening up to him. Curious how the day would now unfold.
"I know this great place that sells pizza and wings. Would be a shame if I don't have a friend to have lunch with."
When you beam at the prospect of food, Valko had to stop himself from fist-pumping the air and howling with glee. The ladies in the saloon, however, had no such restraint. They coo and begin rapidly asking the two of them about their relationship. Even your nail tech warmed up to him enough to offer a seat and tea when he promised to promote the saloon.
As the gossip flows freely and you are at his side, chatting about the many restaurants you've dined in his city, Valko silently wishes that these types of moments would last.
Sooo..how do we feel about the boycott on lads because they cancelled valko š
Fucking. Insane.
Like, I was pretty 'meh' on his sudden appearance and didn't really fuck with his four ears, but I was curious about what he would bring to the table. Funny enough, I really fuck with Tameless Territory. It sounds like Teeth by 5SOS! (I need a mashup of both YESTERDAY skdjnfkdsf). The 14-year-old girl in me has been dancing with glee, lol. Cringe culture is dead.
Also, considering the fact I'mma about to post a oneshot about him, says a lot about the potential he could've had.
But I heard there's rumour on Twitter and TikTok that Infold might actually bring him back? Honestly, I'm just waiting for another official statement any day now.
