#Aerospace Engineering Help

[ominousvibez]

i know a lot of people tend to define dani/ellie's "obsession" as the ocean to go with danny's space obsession but tbh i feel like as dani gets older she's going to do a lot to separate herself from her identity as danny's "clone" and become her own person

like, that's why i love that the fandom has adopted the "ellie" nickname so much for her. i so wish the show went on for longer with more competent writers or the comic could expand on this maybe but i think finding her own identity and voice would be such a powerful narrative. you're made for one thing but you don't wanna do that, so now what do you do?

(tbh that kind of identity exploration is probably too anit-christian for b*tch h*rtman so i'm glad he didn't get to touch it)

it's canon that dani goes off and travels the world, so why not have her obsession be traveling? she's got a huge case of wanderlust. she likes the outdoors, she likes hiking and camping and is a huge granola girl. like, i think that kinda just fits her a bit more, in my opinion. traveling/exploration.

[dead-generations]

orbits are straight lines is the fucked up thing. straight lines described by energy! unless they are three body orbits in which case things get really strange, but they are actually still completely straight lines. just dynamic ones. They aren't just straight, they are constant.

[cinematicbookworm]

Man the average right leaning person really is just the most gullable people like shit some times I forget how stupid some people can be and then they open their mouths and start talking about aliens and demons on planes after watching some video online of some lady going crazy on a plane talking bout a passenger being not real like the woman was probably haveing a mental break and y’all are really out here talking bout demonic fucking possession of the person who is being screamed at by someone clearly having a break from reality shits crazy

[r3ynah]

DANNY NO—

Despite popular opinion, Danny and Paulina did become good friends after graduation, with Paulina not going to college but instead becoming a famous model and actor loved and adored by everyone in Metropolis, and Danny being able to study Aerospace engineering at Gotham passing with flying colors a real contrast when they were in junior high and while also interning at Wayne Enterprises, and it was working unbelievable well for the both of them.

They would try to meet up once a month, with being miles away from their hometown Danny was the only person she could rely on when something went downhill, they floated towards each other in search of any sort of comfort and normality—well what they consider normal that is.

They would pick between Gotham or Metropolis just to meet in a cafe and just chat about anything, Paulina asks about Sam and Tucker, but mostly Sam (the both of them had enemies to friends to lovers to enemies phase and no one can change my mind bout that, and the both of them are still yearning for each other).

after all these years she sees Danny more as a brother rather than a dorky weirdo who is uncharacteristically obsessed with space, but she loves him—but don't tell him that, and Danny also loves and sees Paulina as family, he knows that even when she complains about how he dresses she will always be there to accompany him shopping( with the excuse that'll she'll die if she's seen by anybody near him, in her words she said that he looked like he dressed himself in the dark, which is fair) and keeping him sane by forcing him to sleep when Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were too busy with their jobs and studies.

Most importantly Danny is there to protect her, sometimes she even offers to pay Danny to be her Bodyguard at galas which he refuses, this is also the reason why she sometimes gets protective of Danny, because if you won't let her pay then she'll just do the same but tenfold— she knows Danny can protect himself but the amount of time she gets emergency calls from the man when he gets injured by the GIW really puts her off.

And it certainly doesn't help when one of there meet ups at Gotham, vigilantes seemed to be around every corner and overly nosy 'civilians' who at first she thought they were there for her, well they did use her as an excuse to get close with the request of signing an autograph but she knew better.

with the way their gaze are fixed on Danny, and their stances always stiff like they're prepared to attack if the skinny man in front of her pick up a butter knife, this was the same in metropolis it bothered her that they were eyeing her friend with such skeptical stares, but at least she knew that the heroes that resides in metropolis won't do anything rash after all, she is famous and with one bad tweet of them from her on twitter she can definitely turn half of the population against them.

But in Gotham? she doesn't really know how the people and economy work, she has supporters there she knew that but they weren't so keen on turning their backs on their vigilantes which were the only ones that really tried protecting them, she's just an actress from another city she knew that she won't have the upper hand here, so she just keeps her head low and make sure that Danny is safe and doesn't get harmed.

It's not like Danny is some sort of rogue, yes his parents are mad scientist and all— but Danny knows better than to follow their steps, for Ancients sake Danny was the beloved vigilante of Amity Park he was there when it all went bad, when no one was there to save them he was there, he was the hope of their town—their god.

So she will rain hell upon earth if ever one of the people that named themselves 'heroes' try to lay a finger on Danny— Fuck her reputation she couldn't care less.

So why? Just Why did he get the attention of vigilantes? and the bats nonetheless, she couldn't keep her curiosity at bay, so she asks.

"Oh them? well, I kinda made my way to their watchlist when I decided to pass my half-assed research all about: 'travelling different alternate universes with the usage of Lazarus waters' " he causally uttered as he picked off the cherry tomatoes out of his plate and onto Paulina's

"did you know ectoplasm here is more commonly known as Lazarus waters? cause I didn't, and when I tried to research more about it online I was stopped by a fire wall, which was embarrassingly easy to get through, and you know what was more embarrassing? it wasn't even worth it, the collected data I gathered was not even 1/4 of the things my parents researched, and I'm speaking about the scientifically correct things"

WHat. Paulina looked at him speechless, "Danny no…"

"Danny, yes.." he cheekily answered, amused by Paulina's stunned face "Boy— you better be joking because I will actually call Jazz"

"Please don't—" poor Danny he looked like he was one second away from passing out and sleeping on the table, who knew being watched by vigilantes has a much bigger toll on his body than when he died.

A/N: Oh noo… Danny being seen as a god by overprotective and devoted Amity Parkers, Oh no…. Guys— I didn't know what happened i was just listening to random things and then Hozier started playing, and now we have this.

[apiptosis]

Feel free to use this or add your own flair.

Concept danny meets all of the batfam's civilian identities but in the way of triggering all of their must protect instincts but in the oddest of ways.

Danny had been helping clockwork in the inbetween time and unfortunately had spent a little too long as Phantom. Due to this he had to stay in his human form for atleast 5 years. Cue danny spending his time actually following his hobbies and fixing his school work.

Jazz set out to follow her dream completing her degree in phycology at Arkam. Danny of course followed her, fortunately Gotham had the most advanced aerospace engineering program in the world

Unfortunately while he knew or could easily figure out the work, the sheer amount of projects and work pieces tired him out more than even the ghost attacks did.

The first one he meets is Tim.

Danny has always ran on caffeine but now his morning coffee he orders at the corner of the dance studio gives both the barista and the regulars heart palpitations by just smelling it. This particular coffee shop was the only place willing to make his morning coffee Death's Dew.

His order is for them to make him a 1000ml thermos about seven eighths of the way with ristretto coffee where he adds 3 scoops of caffeine powder and a smidgen of pure ectoplasm mixed in with milk.

Distantly Danny realised that the unholy concoction woke the poor zombie of a man waiting beside him with pure smell alone and the barista was mumbling about smelling colors.

Danny barely remembered to pay for his coffee as he shuffled to his morning class not realizing that he was being stalked by a caffeine addict that begged the last few sips.

A few hours later WE employees watched with mounting horror as their chronically tired boss jitter about like a speedster with Parkinsons.

It took Tim 6 days to fall asleep and the man was never allowed to visit the Dead End coffee shop unsupervised again, despite owning the business.

After everything Tim finally figured out what his family feels like about his coffee addiction and a deep rooted concern formed for the man who's thermos he stole.

[chocolate-cringymuffin]

Anybody else got that Evergiven sized writers block

[to0-many-headcanons]

I love the idea of Danny’s obsession being showing love and care to people

For the longest time he thought it was protecting people after all that’s what he did for 3 years but during those years he realized it wasn’t protection, he still protected town but it wasn’t his obsession

Then he thought it was space, he had been obsessed with it for years and had originally wanted to become an astronaut or at least work for NASA in some way, but that wasn’t it either although it took longer for him to realize

When he first came to Gotham, on the run from his parents with the help of Clockwork, he got some forged documents made it look like he was really born in this universe and everything, he went to school for aerospace engineering so he could work for NASA

He had to work a job, he originally started at a cafe and realized he loved when people complimented his baked goods or his brews. He felt better when he helped street kids, after all living near Crime Alley meant there were plenty of kids who need even just food. He slowly realized his obsession was caring for and showing love to other people, the love he sorely lacked, sure Jazz tried she really did but she was only a child too, she couldn’t provide what Danny needed no matter how hard she tried because she needed it too and never got it

He finished school after picking up degrees to start a business, he then started his cafe, Phantom Zone, a little on the nose but he liked it and it drew ghost like crazy

[velaenam]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

                                                                         ◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. you are a successful aerospace engineer, a girlboss, with terrible luck in romance. let's hope this strangers website brings you out of that rut! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – swearing/foul language, strangers, slow burn, tba notes – not proofread. bear with me as i attempt this cute romance. mc will be unbearable, and the reader may come off egotistical, but you're a bad bitch, so we're gonna highlight that. this was just a bit of world building >< sorry if its a lot of reading-- mention of said stranger site is NOT mentioned on this chapter. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 1 of many ! next chapter

you were a successful woman. in fact, you were so successful you built your own company from the ground up. you were an aerospace engineer. you and your lifelong friends were revered in skyhaven as gods of some sort, due to the great contribution you’d all make with the DAA in such a short time. whom had the connection to partner with the DAA, none of you dared to speak of it. 

okay, that was a lie. your dad was once a very– very high ranking official within the DAA board. you definitely had to admit that your connection may have played a pivotal role in you and your team landing the partnership, but not to diminish your fantastic career. you are an extremely smart and cutthroat woman. a neuroscientist's greatest feat may very well be getting their hands on your brain to dissect it. your teams many tests and builds have contributed to the creation of damn near all of the modern fighter pilot planes. 

so how did such a prodigy such as yourself land in such a messy blind date?

your eyes scan the man in front of you. his smile, smug, his cologne, cheap.. to you. you can’t deny, he did dress well, but you also couldn’t help but your guttural instinct. he was talking your ear off about bullshit that quite literally did not concern you. next to you was your friend, stacia. her date was just eons better. he didnt reek. he looked comfortable, personable, and he cracked jokes.

you swore to yourself that you’d cuss stacia out when you both reconvened, but for now, you had to hold out for her. 

‘babe, this hot guy is asking me out on a date.. but he said its a double date– his fucking cousin wants to meet you! please , you have to help me’

‘i’m going to be busy this weekend.’

‘busy doing what?!’ she rolls her eyes– its insane youd lie to your bestest friend. ‘i have to check some batches at work.’

‘work work work– this is why you’re single! your free day off, and youre working! ’

ouch, but it was true.  you don’t revel in the world of love. you were so busy burying yourself in work and making sure shit went perfect that you completely neglected your personal life. sure you had flings, here and there, but that’s it. a couple days, hell, one last for a week– but nothing serious. your parents may have even worried you wouldn’t be giving them grand kids. but that’s okay! that is why you’re one of 4. 

as you speak, the man in front of you speaks over you. “you are so gorgeous, woman! i am so lucky you are my date!” you felt your skin crack. if theres one thing you didn’t tolerate, it was disrespect. you weren’t going to be called ‘woman’ when you had a name. call it an ego, but it was a well deserved one.

people worshipped the ground you walked, as they should, and you weren’t going to allow just anyone have your time. you shoot a glare at him, and you shift your hand in front of you, signalling him to quiet. stacia and who ever the hell she was with had went outside so it was you and whomever the hell this guy was. “i have a name.” you start, deadly calm. he blinks, eyes glossed. had too much wine. “im going to call it a night. take care.” you abruptly stand, fishing through your purse and slapping a band on the table. “should cover the tip as well. take care” 

your red bottoms click as you walk out of the restaurant. you walk towards stacia who was sucking faces with the man who was her date. upon seeing you she breaks away from him, and scurries towards you, “hey! where are you going?” you shake your head, smiling, “got a busy schedule tomorrow. i paid for dinner. call majors if you need a ride home.” you wave at the both of them as you slip into your vehicle. before you drive off , you contact majors, your family chauffeur to be on standby for stacia just in case.

you make it home to your skyrise abode. the valet takes your keys gracefully and you make your way to the elevator, clicking through your phone, seeing the hot goss of your friend group. 

same stuff– pregnancy scare number 10 from talia, a billion comfort msgs from all of you, marinas boy problems, and your message

‘date was a bust. not my type.’ as you exit from the msg your eyes close. you already knew you were about to be barraged by “your expectations are too high!” – “you didnt even give him a chance!” – whatever excuses they had for these men. you chuckled to yourself. at least you didn’t whine constantly that you were single.

there was this one guy who had caught your attention. he was a doctor at the akso hospital in linkon. however, he just wasn’t interested in you. you could just tell. or really, as much as you could tell in passing. 

the ones that were interested ended up asking for your number or showed more significant interest in you. he just simply treated you and he went on his way, like a normal uninterested doctor, which was fine by you (not really. you thought he was really fucking hot) 

you slid your apartment card on the handle and step inside. you flipped the lights on as you set your key and bag down on the designated spot. slipping off your heels you stretch, back aching form the shitty conversation you had with that random. you pout as you pass the living room to the kitchen. you sometimes wonder if you were being too complicated. somewhat. but you were so important to the city that you couldn’t help but be guarded. your job was important, and you wanted to date someone who could keep up with you. you grab your medicine from the cabinet and a glass of water, knee deep in thought as you start your nighttime ritual.

you sit down at the family table. your father had called you down earlier because he wanted to speak with you regarding an important matter, but everything was an important matter regarding the old man, so you agree, reluctantly . you stare down at the glass table that reflect your own face. it was spotless, just like your mom wants. you scan the porcelain vase in the middle of the table, appreciating the blue and white features it contained. as you dawdle your eyes meet your dads. “hi sweetheart.” his warm greeting echos through the room. “hi dad. i’m not in trouble am i?” you half joke, really hoping you werent. he gave you a soft chuckle before sitting across from you and shaking his head. he put his hands on the table, intertwining his fingers together as he stared down at you. an allowance would be made or a proper scolding was in place

“bug, i’ve had this talk with all of your siblings, and it’s your turn.” he starts, you attempt to scan his facial features on what it may regard, but to no avail. “pardon my language, but your mother and i worked very hard to get where we are. i don’t ask for much, but when the time comes, trust your gut. if you fall in love. fall in love with a person who wont disrespect you. marry a person who won’t use your money or career against you. only you can make the judgement of whom that is. i dont care if you become stuck up ‘cause of this. but i’ll be damned if i let my kids marry… beneath them.” he finishes.

you heeded his words very carefully and you carried that with you throughout high school, throughout college, through now. there were many men who tried you. some scared for their life at the sight of your parents. some tried to rush things with you once they found out about your family status. some simply ghosted you. those were just simple precedents that somehow ruined your thoughts on dating. 

not only heeding his words, but you used that as a good foreground for your expectations. does he have to make more money than you? hell no, because you have enough money that you donate monthly. you raked in, big bucks. you just wanted someone who wasn’t vain. not begging for expensive luxuries. you wanted a gentleman. someone who opened the door for you without you asking. someone who kissed your hand when they saw you. someone who loved you and understood you. called you by your damn name. took interest in what you had to say.

bonus points if they liked planes.

thats your favorite thing in the world. planes. aviation. its your job.

your internal clock kicks in, and you yawn. you finish putting your clothes away, and you sit in your bed. you check your phone see the messages. you see a couple of messages popping up and you roll your eyes,  preparing  for stacia

‘he was boring af. i actually dont blame u this time. but my date was so sweet. i might do a second date.’

‘btw he asked what u did cuz he saw the wad of cash on the table. i told him ur a lawyer fyi.’ 

‘thanks love, gn’ you text before you shut down for the night. you weren't too keen on people knowing about your occupation/career so you ask your friends to manipulate the truth sometimes. you're on social media here and there, and for the most part, the aviation world knew who you were, but people were dumber than they let on, and some people cant put two and two together, so you try not to give them a reason to.

“ let’s rerun the wind tunnel test with the revised control surface parameters– if the drag coefficient drops even slightly, we might hit our efficiency target.” you command, your eyes staring holes into the data. your colleague nods, obliging.

as they start, your phone rings. you roll your eyes, and look at your phone. 

‘jenna’ 

she rarely called, so this mustve been important. you hit the answer button and put your phone in your ear, motioning the others to continue without you. “let me know what the results are.” you walk out of the building, where it was a bit more quiet. “hello?”

“hey, how are you?” – “i’m good, jen, how are you?” you hear her laugh, “i’m good. sorry to call you on the job, but i have a request. kind of important. i need you to come down to linkon. asap.” you groan, rolling your eyes again. back and forth linkon and skyhaven rapidly was so annoying to you, but you sigh. “yeah– i’ll see you in 30.” – “thanks. ill meet you in the lobby”

you return to your testing and cut them early for the day. you’d explain that you had a family emergency and that you’d have them be paid a full day. after you finish shutting the facility down you had majors grab the family jet to meet you outside of the facility. normally you’d take the coelum express– since you actually enjoyed taking it, but she’d sounded so urgent that you didn’t wanna lag.

your eyes scan the building. ‘hunters association hq’ your heels clack, echoing throughout the main lobby. the receptionist greets you with a big smile, and you return the gesture. “good morning, i’m looking for jenna.” she scrambles through her computer, suddenly in a panic

“oh! i’m so sorry- i didn’t know she had a meeting today?”  her frantic was cut short by a pair of footsteps. “you’re fine. she’s my sister.” jenna smiles warmly at you and you nod at the receptionist thanking her, and you turn to jenna. you grin at your older sister as she leads you down a corridor of elevators. 

she leads you through the office, taking in how pleasing the building looks, “you guys have a gorgeous facility.” you hum, running your fingertips on the glass countertop. jenna chuckles, her hands behind her back, quietly walking next to you, “much appreciated. hows work been?” you give her a sheepish look, “it’s going pretty well. we’re running stress tests on the new airframe, only one day of pulling an all nighter– nothing is on fire. yet.” she chuckles at your response, and you join her laugh. it resonate in a way that complimented you both. definitely sisters.

“so the reason that you’re here is because of something related to a jet and a wanderer that we caught on camera.” she starts. you listen intently. you weren’t really related to your sisters job. you just made and tested planes, and you were never dealing with wanderers, so this came to an odd surprise. as she shows you the footage, it shows that a jet flying flawlessly- only seconds later it seemed to have lost power, nose diving straight down when a wanderer got near it. your brows furrow, confused at how the close proximity of the wanderer managed to scramble the power of the jet. your eyes study the video, attempting to find any intricacies that may give you any answers, and unfortunately, nothing lets up. you take a peek at jenna and her team, and as you tap your finger on the surface of the computer you hum. “can you give me a copy of this, so i can show my team? i need to discuss with them on how we can figure this out..” you start. you pull your phone out and pull up your notes. 

“also.. how hard would it be if you can possibly capture a wanderer.. we may need to test them out in close proximity..” you continue, typing it all out on your phone. 

as you look up, you notice the hunters staring at you in awe, including your sister. a soft smile etched on her face. they were all totally fangirling at how cool you just were. it wasn’t everyday that they got to see the master at work. they wracked their brain on this situation for days before calling you.

“is the pilot okay?” you pique, as the analytics team hand you a floppy disk. jenna gives you a curt nod, before you return the gesture, “if you want to pass his information to my secretary so we can compensate him for any possible damages, i would greatly appreciate it.”

the pilots of the DAA were just as important to you as anything in the world, because after all, they put their trust in your company to keep them alive. 

when you and jenna were left alone, you sigh, pinching your nostril, “this is going to be so annoying. i hope you know that.” you state matter-o-factly, slouching down on the chair. jenna nods, staring at the video once more, “hopefully you don’t have to use too much energy.” she states, referring to your evol, “i wouldn’t ask unless it was important.” she reassures you. you put a hand on hers and smile across the table, “i know. it’s fine– really.”

nobody aside from your family and work really know of your ability. it goes hand in hand with your job, really. 

ever since you were young you had an interest for planes. your parents thought it was a cute obsession you gain as a little kid, like when jenna had an obsession with dolls as a kid, you had one for planes.

 it happened one afternoon. it was ‘take-your-kids-to-work day’ and you were walking around the hangar. 

you’d been walking through the rows of jets, when your eyes land on ‘maverick’ your dad’s pride and joy– that happened to be currently out of commission. as your hands made contact with the jet’s sleek wing, a warm jolt shot through your fingertips– followed by a flood of images in your head; pressure readings, airflow calculations. you briskly pull your hands away, blinking, disoriented, as the jet seemingly came alive beneath your touch. 

you freaked out, because this wasn’t normal. you didn’t just feel the jet. you understood it. you slowly realize, that your brain worked different. way differently. you placed your hand on the plane again. 

you noticed that there was a slight misalignment in the primary fuel injector. you didn’t understand what the hell that meant, so you quickly grab your father and his engineers, telling him what you had just discovered. at first they laugh it off, confused as how a 13 year old knew a thing about fuel injectors and the like, but after you kicked and threw a tantrum, they were forced to check it out, and surely enough your diagnosis was spot on. they replaced the faulty component, and shortly after, ‘maverick’ roared to life. 

your dad looked at you with the biggest, and proudest smile he’d ever given you. 

you don’t often use your evol, because it came at a cost. you’d get killer migraines, become disorientated, and the like, so you used it sparingly, and hence why jenna shared her grief of having you do this task. but everyday you spent fixing your creations is a win in your book, so you ultimately didn’t mind it.

you make small talk with your sister, catch up a bit, as you both walk back down to the lobby. she escorts you outside and you give her a tight hug. “thank you again, please update me when you can.” she says, as you give her a sweet smile, nodding as majors opens the door for you.

it had been a couple days since you saw your sister about the wanderer problem, and you’re currently at a gala held for the recent graduates of the aviation academy. you and your dad were the primary speakers of the night, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

as you were confident and powerful, you weren’t too keen on public speaking. not that you were bad at it, you just enjoyed when the attention wasn’t on you, let alone damn near hundreds of people in one room staring you down. 

you stare at the mirror, lips pursed as you finish applying your lipstick, and straightening your dress up. you wore a black maxi dress that sculpted your neckline and outlined your chest, but in a classy way. waist adorned with a small belt, with a long cape sleeve that flows gracefully from your shoulders. you smile at yourself in the mirror before you clear your throat, readying yourself to socialize.

as you walk out of the bathroom, you take in the row of future pilots in front of you. holy fuck what did they feed these hunks? you blink, staring at how hot some of them were. tall, check. chiseled jawline, check check, sexy.. check! you take your phone out and record the event, giggling internally. your friends were going to definitely bitch at you for not asking them to come. you send the message to them and you walk over to the punch bowl where many of the men were giggling. 

in the middle of the group was your silly father. retelling stories of his time in the force. 

“ general!” you call out playfully,  and the men all turn their heads towards you, causing you to feel super self conscious. maybe you shouldnt have done that. he gives a hearty laugh, motioning you to come over. you reluctantly do so, your warm smile striking the hearts of the men.

“men, this is my genius daughter –” you give them a small polite wave, and you scan them all. they were definitely intimidated by you- except one man. your eyes linger at his purple gaze, longer than you wanted to. he was the tallest one of the lot, his brown hair contrasting his perfect eyes. his shoulders broad, jawline sharp as if he was sculpted by a god. to say this man was handsome was an absolute understatement. your favorite part of this man was his smile. that was the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

you tear from his gaze, before you look at your father. “i was just telling them about maverick!” – “ahh, your 5th child?” he nods, laughing once more, “i was just about to tell em how i was able to get it up and running again.” he starts. here he goes. before he started, you hold your hand up to cut him off, respectfully, “dad i hate to stop you, but they’re looking for us.” you mutter, nodding over to the committee of speakers. his eyes widen scrambling up, placing his drink down on the table and standing up, straightening himself. he nods to the men and excuses himself, “congratulations men. i am extremely proud of you all.” and with that he walks off, with you trailing behind.

caleb watches you walk off, his eyes never leaving your figure. his eyes finally snap back to the group once you were out of eyesight, and he tunes back into the conversation, “the generals daughter is fucking gorgeous.” his friend muses matter-o-factly, an understatement, he thinks to himself. “i hear that they’re going to give the ‘maverick’ to one of us rookies. who do you guys think its gonna be?” – “probably caleb!” they all take a look at him, and he only gives them a laugh. the man was too busy thinking about you to really capture the conversation.

the pilots find their place in  their seats as the room dims. you shuffle into the stage alongside your dad. this was an esteemed event. it wasn’t held every year. much to the unfairness of the previous generation graduates, the gala was held every time the amount of graduates exceed the projected amount. this was honestly more of a connections event. previous legends, special DAA registrars, important persons, etc. the graduates can figure out how they want to approach such treat, (like the pilots talking to your father.)  however unfair, the other previous graduates who aren’t given the lavish gala treatment do get compensations, so in a way, everybody can win, depending on how individuals look at it. 

your father takes the mic in his hand, his arm resting on the podium. the chatting halts. you had always admired your dads ability to command a room. probably why he was so good at his job. he clears his throat,

 “ladies, and gentleman, esteemed faculty, distinguished guests, and most importantly, the graduates of today. it is an absolute honor to stand before you today as we celebrate the incredible achievement of these exceptional men and women. today marks the culmination of years of dedication, hard work, and sacrifice that have led to this very moment, where you are no longer just students, but now, graduates of one of the most prestigious and demanding programs in the world. graduates – your journey has been demanding, and you’ve proven yourselves capable of not only mastering the art of flying, but leading with integrity and making critical decisions, when it matters most. you’ve earned your place here, and the skies are now yours to navigate.”

you smile gently, looking around– as best as you can from the damned spotlight, but you barely could see a thing in a sea of dark blue. caleb listens in absolute awe, but he couldn’t help stare you down. you were quite literally the apple of his eye. he had never seen anyone with the beauty that you possess. his lips curve into a slight grin as he watches you look around. a part of him hoped you were looking for him.

“as pilots, you’ll continue to learn and grow, but always remember; you are more than prepared. you are part of a proud legacy, and it is your time to carry that forward. on behalf of all of us here, congratulations, we are incredibly proud of you. fly high, stay safe, and may your journey be as remarkable as the achievement we celebrate today. thank you.” 

your father nods, and the entire room erupts with a thunderous applause, that you almost- just almost teared up at how wonderfully put that speech was. you clap alongside the audience and he steps back, allowing you to take reins of the podium. you smile, a little too wide, but you were giddy with excitement,

“hello everybody– i surely cannot top my fathers congratulation speech for you all but i will definitely do my best.” you hear an eruption of laughter before you go on, “today we stand here not only to celebrate your incredible achievements, but to acknowledge the bright future ahead of you. you’ve all worked tirelessly to reach this moment, and we are immensely proud of each one of you. in recognition of your hard work and the vital role you will play in the future of aviation, we are thrilled to announce a generous donation of 5.5 billion diamonds (dollars?), which will go toward supporting your ongoing training and development.” the entire room erupts in gasps, hushed whispers. your own fathers eyes shoot open, clearly surprised about the insane lump sum. you chuckled into the mic, sultry, deep– something that woke caleb’s neurons up. alongside his friends, he was clapping loud.

“additionally… in a gesture of commitment to your success, we are excited to gift a dozen state of the art aircraft to your training fleet, ensuring that the future of aviation continues to soar to new heights.” another round of applause, even louder than the last. it was starting to deafen you, but you smile, continuing, “these contributions are a testament to the belief in your potential and bright future you are all shaping. you have proven that you are ready for the skies, and now you have the tools to continue reaching for the stars. congratulations to each of you, and we look forward to seeing all you will accomplish. fly high, and know that this is the just beginning of an extraordinary journey.” you close, and the room erupts one last time, whistles flying around. caleb stands up, along with his friends, giving you and your dad an ovation, even though this was an event for you all. 

you bow as you make your way down the stage. photographers snap a picture of you and your father as you both make your way towards the graduates. you were looking for that handsome hunk in particular. 

as your eyes dart around, caleb stands up, slowly making his way towards you. he’d tower a couple of people around him, but your eyes connect. as he starts to move his feet he feels a sudden yank. “caleb!! you did it!!” his childhood best friend squeals– his pipsqueak, dragging him down, her lips connecting with his cheeks and her arms snake around his neck and shoulders, dragging him down. you take notice of that, your eyes not breaking contact with each other, and you watch as he drops his hat on the ground from the sudden motion he’d experience. 

‘oh well of course the hot one has a fucking girlfriend’ you think, finally breaking eye contact. you were definitely not going to look at a man who was taken. not even one bit. another vent to add to the group chat later. 

[ninesbey0nd]

My Dearest Friend College AU! Caleb x Reader

SYNOPSIS. When you committed to your university, you never expected to reunite with your childhood best friend, Caleb. When your mom urges you to help him move in, your friendship seems to take a turn.

PAIRING. Aerospace Engineering Major! Caleb x Graphic Design Major! Reader (afab/fem reader)

GENRE. friends to lovers, childhood friends, mutual pining, eventual smut, possessive! Caleb, Dom! Caleb

WARNINGS. Profanity, Alcohol Consumption, NSFW, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (receiving), Breeding Kink, Obsessive themes WORD COUNT. 7.4k

PART 1 - PART 2 - ?

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

(I've returned with an obsession for LADS LMAO enjoy <3)

“That’s the last one,” Caleb mumbled, kicking his heel out to prop his dorm door open for you. You nodded curtly at his gesture, holding your breath while you carried in the last box of his belongings. You let out a soft pant, setting down the heavy bin of God knows what.

“It’s no problem! Really,” you insisted, your gaze shifting up to meet his soft lavender eyes.

🍎

The day before your mother had pulled you aside after dinner, scolding you for being a bad friend and not keeping in touch with Caleb.

“I mean, how do you not realize the boy you’ve grown up with is attending the same college as you?” She chided, aggressively scrubbing the dishes that had piled up in your kitchen sink.

“I don’t know, Mom,” you groaned, propping yourself up against the kitchen counter. “Don’t get me wrong, Caleb and I are friendly with one another, but I guess the topic of college never came up?” You cringed your shoulders. Sure, you and Caleb exchanged a few pleasantries here and there, but there was never too much the two of you had to talk about; not like there was any unsettled business or sour feelings.

“Well, you're lucky his mother and I keep in frequent contact hm?” Your mom hummed, the ceramic clinking of plates filling the air as she shut the now-filled dishwasher. “You should help him move into the dorms tomorrow, his poor mother has knee problems and you’re young and spry.”

You slumped over, your shoulders hanging heavy in the air. The last thing you wanted to do was wake up early and be on campus before school even started, but your mom seemed pretty insistent that you help the poor boy and spare his mother’s aching joints.

“Okay, okay. I’ll find my way over there and see what I can do, alright?” You let out a sigh as your mom shoots you a grateful smile.

🍎

“So,” you feign a cough to break the silence. “Did you want help unpacking?” You found yourself leaning against the bare metal bed frame, scanning the room around you. Somehow, this man had managed to score a single – and a pretty spacious one at that. Although the room was bare now, knowing Caleb it’d probably be properly unpacked and prim in a few hours.

“You don’t have to do all that, pipsqueak. I can handle it,” He assured with a smile, his eyes crinkled into small half-mooned crescents. He was knelt down beside a bin, popping the lid open and beginning the search for his packed bedding. He stood up with a simple gray sheet in his hand, turning toward your direction.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping,” you reached a hand outward, grabbing onto the sheet and beginning to spread it along the expanse of the oh-so-small twin bed. Neatly tucking the sheet beneath the corner of the mattress, you snuck a glance at Caleb. You could tell he was a bit surprised at your forwardness but nonetheless appreciated it and followed suit in your movements.

The two of you spent the next few hours unpacking and organizing his dorm – from making the bed to helping him hang his clothes.

“Wait (Y/N), don’t open that one –” too late. Your hands had already opened the box and there they were: neatly stacked and folded and in all of their glory were several pairs of boxers. Ranging from plain colors to some mixed plaids and finally on top – a pair of them with little apples scattered across the fabric.

“Oh,” was all you could muster out. You shut the lid promptly, scooting it out of the way and going to grab a different one. You peeked at him through your lashes. A hand covered half his face, and his eyes were screwed shut, a light pink color flushed against his cheeks.

“I’ll have to go through that one later,” He mused, his hand moving to rest against the back of his neck. The rest of the unpacking, much to your surprise, went smoothly. By the time you finished, his room looked as if he’d lived there the whole time.

“Thank you, (Y/N), really, I don’t think I would’ve been able to move in so quickly without your help,” he rested his weight against the edge of his now-made bed. “Can I maybe treat you to dinner?” His lips drew themselves into a thin line, his eyes meeting yours – almost as if praying to the universe that you’d accept his offer. You blinked, unsure if you had heard him right.

“Dinner?” you repeated, trying—and failing—to mask the surprise in your voice. Your gaze dropped to his hands, which were absentmindedly fiddling with a corner of the bed sheet you'd just tucked in. Caleb had always been polite, maybe even a little old-school in how he treated people. But this felt like... something else. It didn’t feel the same as that once-innocent younger boy you grew up with.

“If you want,” he clarified quickly at the end of his statement, brushing imaginary lint off his jeans and avoiding eye contact. “I just thought it’d be nice since you helped me out, and I haven’t really had a chance to thank you properly or catch up with you. There’s this little sushi place down on Main Street—I heard it’s good?”

Your lips curled slightly into a smile. “You remembered I like sushi?”

Caleb looked up at you then, the corner of his mouth twitching. “(Y/N), you used to talk about getting sushi and miso soup all the time. That’s not something I could easily forget.”

The tension cracked a bit between you both, just enough for you to exhale a laugh. “Fine, I’ll let you treat me.”

“Done.”

🍎

Main Street was just starting to buzz with the early evening crowd when the two of you made it there. The walk from campus was short but filled with odd spurts of conversation—mostly about upcoming classes, shared childhood memories, and how you’d managed to not know you were going to the same university until your mothers brought it up.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t know,” Caleb said, nudging your elbow as you stepped into the cozy restaurant. “I mean, we literally follow each other on Instagram.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, and you only post pictures of planes and clouds. Not exactly a location update.”

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his thick layered hair.

“Fair enough.”

After many sushi rolls were consumed, something shifted. Maybe it was the home-y comfort food or the nostalgic laughter, but you started to feel less like acquaintances and more like... (Y/N) and Caleb again. The way you’d been before high school and moving vans and awkward teenage silences.

“So, graphic design, huh?” Caleb asked as he leaned back in his seat. “That tracks. You used to doodle all over your homework.”

You shrugged, twirling a straw in your drink. “Yeah, well... what can I say. I have a passion for creating, I love the nature of art.”

He grinned. “I think it suits you. You’ve always had an eye for stuff like that. Colors, symmetry.”

“And you?” you raised a brow. “Aerospace engineering? Trying to fly away from all your responsibilities?”

“Obviously,” he deadpanned. “But mostly, I just want to build something that ends up out there.” He motioned toward the sky, as if you could see the stars from the restaurant booth. “It’s... grounding, in a weird way.”

The table fell quiet for a moment. You were watching him now, not just the boy you used to ride bikes with, but the person he’d become. Grounded and lofty all at once.

🍎

The weeks that followed passed in a blur of syllabi, campus events, and more run-ins with Caleb than you could count. Which was odd, considering he practically made a home for himself in the campus library.

He texted you after class the next day. [CALEB]: Can I borrow your notes from Design Theory? I think I slept through half of it with my eyes open.

You replied with a smirking emoji and a PDF of your notes.

[(Y/N)]: don’t thank me too much :p

Later that week, you knocked lightly on his dorm door, a physics textbook hugged to your chest. “I know this is your thing sooo,” you said, wincing slightly as you walked through his doorway. “If I have to look at one more vector diagram without understanding it, I might combust.”

“Come in,” he grinned, stepping aside. “Let’s trade. Physics help for some sketching practice and coaching?”

Before long, helping each other became second nature—him hunched over your Laptop, poking at your Illustrator file, while you scribbled equations on a whiteboard in his room. You teased him for his weirdly good eye for visual hierarchy; he claimed your physics doodles were actually better than some of the diagrams in his textbook.

And somewhere in the midst of study sessions and late-night diner runs, you realized you didn’t dread waking up for early campus mornings anymore. Especially if they meant seeing Caleb—your not-so-new, not-so-distant friend.

🍎

The hum of the fluorescent lights in the academic building were steady, almost comforting as you sat hunched over a large spread of design theory notes. You’d tucked yourself into one of the small study pods, surrounded by empty tables and soft chatter from other students who passed by in a hurry.

The walls were lined with modern art—colorful abstract pieces and intricate geometric designs—and, despite the chill in the air, the room had a familiar warmth to it. It was a place where you could focus. A place where you could get lost in your work and forget the looming deadlines of projects and exams.

But even in this quiet corner, you found it hard to concentrate. Your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you’d had with Caleb the night before. He’d called to ask for a quick study session for his upcoming art examination, which had caught you a bit off guard. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a hard worker, but you hadn’t expected him to reach out for something like that.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced down at the screen, half-expecting a random notification, but no—there it was. A text from Caleb.

[CALEB]: Be there in 5. Save me a seat :)

A soft smile pulled at the corner of your lips, and you quickly rearranged your things to make room for him. It was almost second nature how he could slide back into your life without much effort at all.

🍎

Five minutes passed, then ten. You were just beginning to wonder if maybe something had come up when you finally saw him.

Caleb’s unmistakable figure appeared at the entrance, his tall frame easily cutting through the crowd of students. As he stepped into the study space, his eyes scanned the room, and then, as if he had a built-in radar for where you were sitting, they found yours.

He smiled that familiar little smile, the one that always made you feel like you were home. He began walking toward you, his steps light, but just as he was about to reach the table, a girl approached him.

She was holding a stack of papers, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her eyes were wide, too wide, almost as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Caleb stopped in his tracks, his hand still halfway to his back pocket.

“Hey,” the girl said, flashing a bright, slightly nervous smile. “Are you Caleb? I’m in your thermodynamics class, and—um, I was wondering if you could maybe give me your number? I’m trying to form a study group and... I thought it’d be great to have you be a part of it – I mean, you’re like the smartest guy in class.”

You watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Caleb was silent for a moment, his posture stiffening slightly as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. But when his gaze flickered back toward you, the tension in his shoulders eased, and his lips curled into a soft, almost apologetic smile toward the girl.

“Sorry,” Caleb said, his tone polite but firm. “I don’t think I’m the best person to study with right now. I’m actually going to study with my girlfriend right now.”

The girl seemed momentarily taken aback but didn’t push further. She forced a smile, awkwardly nodded, and then turned on her heel, leaving Caleb free to make his way over to you.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped as he finally sat down across from you, his expression a mixture of bemusement and relief.

“Girlfriend, huh?” you teased, folding your arms over your chest.

He grinned, shaking his head as he unpacked his own materials. “I figured it was a pretty good excuse to get out of whatever she was trying to rope me into,” he admitted with a small smile.

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, and what’s wrong with her wanting your number?”

Caleb shot you a sheepish glance. “Well, I’m just not interested in giving my number to people who ask.”

Your gaze softened, and you met his eyes. For a moment, there was a quiet understanding between you two. Caleb had always been popular amongst his peers, or so you heard from your mother. He never had a girlfriend, though, ever. could tell it wasn’t just about the number. It was about his priorities—about what mattered to him right now.

“Alright,” you said, tapping your pencil on the table. “So... about that study session?”

He nodded, settling into his chair and pulling out a notebook from his bag. “Right. I’m actually kind of freaking out about this art exam. I know it’s not physics or anything, but I just... I don’t know. I guess I haven’t done a ton of art since high school, and now it feels like I’m starting from scratch.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. “You’ve always had an eye for it, Caleb. You’ve just... gotta remember how to channel it. Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

He hesitated for a second but then slid his sketchbook over to you. The pages were filled with rough sketches—abstract patterns, geometric designs, and some minimalist ideas that had potential. As you flipped through, you could tell there was talent there, but it needed focus. Toward the last page, however, you lingered. There had been a few rough sketches scattered across the parchment of…. Your face?

Caleb cleared his throat, reaching a hand over the page and quickly snatching the book out of your grasp. When you looked up at him, he shot you a sheepish grin, tucking the book away.

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, jotting down a few notes in your own notebook. “Let’s start with these basic shapes. You’ve got the right idea, but you need to play with the proportions and scale a bit more. Add some layers. Make it breathe.”

Caleb nodded, leaning forward as you helped walk him through how to refine his sketches. The two of you got into a rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth, and by the time the sun was beginning to set, you’d worked through most of the exam material.

As you closed the last notebook, Caleb sat back and stretched. “Thanks, (Y/N),” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “I think I actually feel ready for this now. Seriously, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this without your help.”

You smiled at him, but before you could respond, Caleb’s tone shifted slightly. He glanced at his watch and then at you, his eyes brightening.

“So, I know we’ve been working hard... but how about a little reward?” he said, his voice low enough to almost sound like a secret. “How about you come over to my place tonight? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” You asked, intrigued but also cautious. “What kind of surprise?”

“Trust me,” Caleb said with a mischievous grin, “I’m sure you’ll like where it’s going.”

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help feeling curious. “Alright, I’m intrigued. I’ll meet you there after dinner.”

Caleb smiled and gave you a nod. “It’s a deal. Later, pipsqueak.”

As he packed up his things and left, you found yourself trying to push away the small flutter in your stomach. A surprise? What could it be?

But whatever it was, you knew Caleb wouldn’t let you down.

🍎

“Caleb?” Your knuckles rapped against his dorm door, awaiting his presence. A muffled voice interrupts your train of thought.

“Coming, coming.” You hear a few sounds of rustling before footsteps, and an open door greets you. “You’re early, pipsqueak.” His hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, soon after traveling down to your lower back, where he ushers you inside his room.

“I couldn’t keep my best friend waiting, could I?” You found yourself kicking off your shoes, hopping onto his made bed, and propping yourself up amongst his pillows.

Caleb shut the door behind you, giving you a look you couldn’t quite read—something between amused and nervous.

“So…” you began, stretching your legs across his mattress, “what’s this big surprise? You’re not secretly making me tutor you for another hour, are you?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no physics tonight. I swear.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then what?”

He walked over to his desk, where a neatly folded outfit—a casual button-down and his nicer jeans—lay waiting. “We’re going out.”

You blinked. “Out? Like... out out?”

“To the frat party,” he said, shooting you a grin. “It’s supposed to be huge tonight. And,” he added quickly, “I figured you deserved a night off for basically saving my academic life.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “You want to go to a frat party?”

“Okay, I know, I’m not exactly the party guy,” Caleb admitted with a smirk. “But hey—first semester of college, right? Why not make a few fun memories?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “You better not make me regret this.”

Caleb raised his hand in mock solemnity. “I would never.”

🍎

The Delt party was exactly what you expected—loud, chaotic, pulsing with music, and crowded with students dressed just a little too nicely for a night of spilled drinks and uncoordinated dancing. The backyard was strung with fairy lights, a small fire crackling in the distance, the scent of cheap beer and woodsmoke clinging to the air.

You stuck close to Caleb’s side as you navigated through the crowd. He handed you a drink, his fingers brushing yours for a split second longer than necessary. You tried not to read too much into it.

“Alright,” he said over the music, raising his cup. “To passing art exams and not dying in physics.”

You clinked your cup to his. “I’ll drink to that.”

As the night wore on, Caleb grew a little... different. Not bad—just looser. His words started to slur slightly, and his usual guarded posture gave way to easier smiles and more frequent touches. A hand on your shoulder here, a lingering glance there.

“You know, (Y/N),” he said, leaning in close as you both sat near the fire, the flickering light dancing in his eyes. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed, nudging you with his shoulder. “A little. But I still mean it.”

You looked at him, unsure how to respond. You’d never seen Caleb like this before—unguarded, open. A little vulnerable.

“You’ve always been this... bright thing in my life, (Y/N). Even when we weren’t talking much in high school. I always remembered stuff about you. Like how you hate pencils that are too sharp. Or how you hum when you draw, even if you don’t realize it. I noticed.”

You stared at him, lips slightly parted.

“I didn’t forget you,” he continued, voice quieter now, eyes fully on you. “Not once. Not ever. You never left my mind.”

The world around you blurred—the music, the laughter, the distant cheer of someone winning a drinking game—and all you could hear was your heartbeat and Caleb’s words.

“Caleb I –,” You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re drunk, we should get you back to your room.” Your hand latched onto his wrist, attempting to flee the scene of the party but his arm pulled taught; he didn’t budge.

“Caleb? Come on,” You yanked against his arm again, only to be tugged inward toward his chest. His movement was sloppy, tucking his arm to his side to bring you back in his vicinity.

“I’m being serious (Y/N),” he leaned down over you, his breath tickling your face; he reeked of alcohol.

You could feel your pulse flutter in your throat. The smell of cheap beer clung to him, the flush in his cheeks stark under the dim party lights. This wasn’t the version of him you were used to—the composed, quiet Caleb from your childhood. This one was raw, unfiltered, and very, very honest.

But drunk. Way too drunk.

“You’re not thinking straight,” you whispered, pushing gently against his chest. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He didn’t fight it this time. Just let you guide him out the door, his body swaying as he leaned into you more than necessary, like your presence alone was grounding him. A couple of times, you felt his chin bump into the back of your head. He had been leaning over you, drinking in your scent as you walked him back to his dorm.

The cold night air hit hard, sobering your thoughts if not his. You kept a firm grip on his wrist as you led him across campus, trying not to focus on how his fingers crept up and subtly intertwined with yours.

By the time you reached his dorm, Caleb was quiet—too quiet. You helped him fumble with the keycard and finally shoved his dorm door open.

“Sit down,” you instructed, guiding him to the bed. “I’ll get you water.”

But the moment you turned toward the tiny dorm fridge, a hand reached out and caught your forearm.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” his words were slower now, but clear. “Why does everyone think drunk people can’t tell the truth?”

You met his gaze over your shoulder. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, one elbow on his knee, head tilted up to look at you with those sharp lilac eyes.

“It’s not about lying, Caleb,” you said softly. “It’s just… this might not be something you feel tomorrow. And I don’t want to be a mistake you regret.”

He stood then, slowly, like he was trying to keep his balance in more ways than one. “You think I wouldn’t remember wanting you?”

Your breath caught.

He gently pulled you closer to where he sat, carefully, almost reverently. His hand released your arm and crept up toward your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wanted you since high school, (Y/N). Ever since we met and bonded over that stupid Pokémon game.”

You tried to laugh. Failed. Your heart caught in your throat.

“Caleb…”

“I’m not trying to push you,” he said, though the way his hand lingered against your cheek made it hard to believe – his thumb swiping gentle strokes across your skin. “But if I don’t do this now, I’m scared I’ll never do it.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

It was soft, surprisingly gentle. A question, not a demand.

His mouth tasted of that sour alcohol aftertaste and desperation, but there was something else under it: warmth, sincerity.

It would’ve been easy to give in.

But you pulled back, your heart practically pounding out of your ribcage. “Caleb, you’re drunk,” you reminded him, more to yourself than him.

His forehead leaned against yours. “I know,” he whispered. “But I’m not wrong. And I’m not a liar.”

You stood there in the quiet hum of the dorm room, the distance between you barely inches, your brain mush.

“Please, (Y/N)?” His head still tilted upward to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading; full of desperation and raw need.

“Caleb I –,” you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment of frustration. “You’re drunk – like what if you don’t actually want this? What if you regret something?”

He cut you off, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face back to his. “(Y/N),” he paused, a beat passed as his eyes bore into yours. “If you would just believe me, and allow me, I could be fucking you on this bed right now.” His voice was low and rough with desire, his gaze never once leaving yours as he spoke.

“And if you think this is just a drunk man talking, then fuck,” He reached his other arm out to cup both your cheeks, leaning up toward you to get impossibly closer. “Id fuck you ten times harder tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his lips grazing yours for just a second.

You swallowed hard, bottom lip twitching as you held yourself back from the urge to leap into his grasp right then and there. “Caleb,” you sighed into his grasp, your hand brushing against the back of his. You could feel your resolve practically crumbling at his gestures and sweet words. Maybe, he really did mean it?

“Are you positive?” You pulled away, your eyes pierced him with a sudden seriousness as if there was a shift in the atmosphere.

“(Y/N),” His eyes searched your face for your expression, his breathing stalled for a moment before he took a deep breath in. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” Before you could get your bearings, he sat up straighter, leaning up and crashing his lips against yours. His lips were soft and plush, gently molding along yours with tenderness. Behind the sweet kiss, however, was a hunger in the way his hands slowly raked down your body. From your face, down to tracing over your shoulders and finally where his hands found purchase at the top of your hips. His fingers dug into your skin greedily, pulling you closer and between his legs that hung off the twin bed. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into your skin. You blinked in surprise, eyes quickly screwing shut and melding into his touch. Your lips parted, allowing him to slip past your teeth and into your mouth. His tongue swirled along yours and you felt him melt, a soft groan escaping from him as he furthered his motions. You inevitably pulled away to take in a breath, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you firmly onto his lap - your legs straddled his hips. He exhaled sharply, pulling you down harder against him. You could practically feel his hardening length growing - pressing against your inner thigh.

“Caleb-” Your statement was cut short, feeling his hands slide up from your hips, his finger tips inching under the hem of your shirt until his hands lay flush against your skin. His eyes trailed up your body, eventually settling on yours steadily as his fingers crept higher and higher. He held the stare, his eyes filled with longing; with absolute need. 

“Please,” Caleb’s voice sounded shaky, his breathing turned ragged. His fingers stopped just beneath the wire of your bra, tracing along the curve of your breast. “Can I?” He spoke softly, almost as if you’d shatter if he raised his voice any louder. His hand had wrapped around your back, the tips of his fingers running along the clasp of the undergarment. 

When you gave him a silent nod of understanding, he wasted no time pinching at the metal clasps, unhooking each one skillfully. The piece of clothing slumped off your shoulders, settling loosely at the bottom of your waist. His hands drifted down your spine, his fingers fiddling with the back of your shirt. His thumbs hooked under your garment, beginning to push the fabric up and over your head. Once your shirt was completely off, he wasted no time tossing it somewhere across his room without a second thought. His gaze darkened, drinking in the sight of your bare chest. His eyes dragged across your skin, to your lips, back to your half-lidded eyes. 

“You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He breathed, a hand cradling the side of your face and pulling you into another kiss. Unlike the first time, this felt different. His lips were hungry; biting and sucking at your lips as if trying to consume you on the spot. As he cradled your face close, his other hand had crept up from your hips, cupping your breast between his fingers. His index finger met his thumb, pinching and rolling your now hardened nipple. You let out a gasp, mouth slightly agape as he continued his ministrations. His lips eventually left yours, moving along your jawline and sucking softly on the skin just below your ear. He hummed against your skin, the soft peppering of kisses turned to more aggressive and needy biting, surely leaving marks of pleasure in his wake. You felt yourself turn to putty in his hands, your eyes fluttering shut. 

He seemed to be growing impatient, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His hands left you for a moment, before suddenly gripping your thighs that hugged him. You opened your mouth to comment, and found yourself mid-air before being set back down onto his mattress. 

“What are you-?” You felt Caleb shove you down onto the expanse of his bed, your back falling into the plush of his blankets. He crawled between your legs, his fingers dragging down your navel to the band of your pants. “Shut up and just… let me,” He mumbled, his hands tugging down the fabric of your bottoms hastily. He gripped your thighs roughly, spreading them as he bent himself forward, nestling his face between your legs. “I need you, (Y/N). Right fucking now.” He breathed, his breath fanning over your inner thighs. He pressed kisses along your thigh and over your clothed core, hovering just a moment longer over the wet spot that had begun to grow on your panties. You could feel him take a deep breath before his fingers hooked into the sides of the flimsy fabric, tearing it down your thighs roughly. 

“Fuck Caleb,” you exhaled, looking down at the boy nuzzled up between your now naked bottom half. His jaw was tight as he looked back up at you through his dark lashes, his hands spreading your thighs wider. He repositioned himself slightly, a visible tent in his pants making it quite obvious of his desire. He realized he had never seen you in such a position before - so vulnerable, bare, delicate. He, of course, had imagined this scenario countless times in his head but the reality of the situation was so much sweeter than he could’ve ever dreamt of. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, inching his face closer to your arousal. His fingers danced closer to your inner thighs, tracing small patterns along the sensitive skin. “Are you…” The pad of his thumb brushed against your wet folds for just a brief moment, making you shiver. “Are you absolutely sure you want this? ‘Cause once I start,” he paused, his voice dropping into a low and husky tone. “Once I taste you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” 

You shuddered at his words, the growing need between your thighs growing hotter with each passing moment. “Caleb, I need you.” You reached down to tangle your fingers into Caleb’s head of hair. Your words edged him on, and you felt as if a switch had flicked on inside his mind. He leaned forward without another word, pressing a soft kiss to your center before opening you up with his thumbs. He dragged his tongue up your folds, a groan eliciting out of him and rumbling against you. His tongue flicked up and down before pulling away briefly to take a breath.

“Fuck (Y/N)…” He drawled, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip and lapping up any juices that had remained on his mouth. You looked down briefly, your eyes meeting his for a second. “You taste divine,” he mumbled before diving back between your legs, his tongue beginning a reckless assault on your core. You twitched, feeling his tongue swipe over your most intimate parts. You let out a strained gasp when you felt him tease a finger over your hole. He hummed in response - you could feel his lips curve into a smile as they vibrated against your delicate skin. He pressed the pad of his index finger to your clit, rubbing small circles to the sensitive bud. “Look at my pretty girl, so wet.” He muses before dipping his finger down and into your sopping cunt. His finger pumps in and out of you with precision, as if he had known exactly what your body needed. 

“Caleb,” you let out a muffled cry, feeling yourself clench around his single digit. His lips press kisses to your pussy before his tongue finds itself attached to your clit - his lips engulfing you whole as lewd sounds of slurping filled his dorm room. 

“I love it when you say my name, baby. Say it again.” You could barely understand the sentence that left his mouth, his lips too focused on tasting you. His one hand gripped onto your thigh tightly, his nails digging into your skin, surely to leave crescent indents. His dominant hand, however, was ever so busy curling his finger into you. You felt him nudge a second finger toward your entrance, quickly adding it between pumps. He scissored and stretched out your hole, his tongue gliding down to kitten lick your walls. When he pushed his fat, wet muscle into you, you swore you could see stars. 

“Fuck Caleb-,” you swore silently. His ever-so-soft tongue slid in and out with ease, pushing itself along your insides and feasting upon you as if you were his last meal. He loved how responsive you were to his touch: he could feel every little twitch, every shiver, every moan you fought to hold back. He spread you wider with his fingers, trying to shove his tongue impossibly deeper into you. 

“You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He said between long licks, his breath tickling your lower half as he spoke. 

Your face felt hot. As if you were drunk on the sight of Caleb. How perfectly he seemed to know your body, how well he took care of you. You would be lying to yourself if you said you’d never imagined having sex with Caleb before, but never did you imagine he would feel this good. 

You were snapped back to reality when Caleb pressed a harsh kiss to your pussy, his fingers now pumping in and out of you desperately. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, his tongue running swirls over the sensitive nub as he fingered you. 

You let out a shaky exhale, “Caleb.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around his fingers, and that familiar feeling of a coil waiting to snap was building in your stomach. 

“Yeah, baby? Are you gonna be a good girl?” His fingers did a delicious twist inside of you, making you clench your thighs around his head. You felt your body arch into his touch, wanting to feel his fingers deeper within. You panted, your hands gripping the blanket beneath you as you felt him reach knuckle deep into your walls. Your breathing became more and more ragged with each thrust of his fingers, his tongue working deep circles into your clit - it was all so much at once. You could feel him saying something, the deep vibrations from his voice shaking you to your core, but the thoughts in your head had turned off; hearing nothing but white noise as he mercilessly pumped his fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace. 

“You’re mine, (Y/N).” He breathed, feeling your body begin to tremble under his touch. “Say it. Say you’re mine,” He urged, his tongue messily swiping along your folds.

“I’m yours, - God Caleb, please.” Your hand gripped his hair, fingers digging into his scalp desperately. Your thighs clamped around his face, your head lying backward into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling with a half-lidded gaze. You were getting so close, and he could tell. 

“You’re taking my fingers so well baby, won’t you cum around my fingers? Please?” His pleading words are music to your ears, lulling you into your high. You feel your legs begin to violently shake; Caleb’s hand pinning your thigh down as he ate you through your climax, groaning in his own enjoyment. Eventually, after you’ve ridden out your high he tilts his head up, his chin slick with your juices. He wipes the wetness off himself with his thumb, popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. 

“Look at you, my pretty girl.” He sits himself up between your legs, his eyes traveling up your body. 

“Caleb I-,” you propped yourself up onto your elbows, your hand reaching greedily past his face and down to his belt. “I need you,” you said in a hushed tone, your chest rising and falling with each word.

A darkness filled his eyes as a smile graced his lips, the corners eagerly twitching up into a cocked smirk. “As you wish,” His fingers fiddled with the buttons of his jeans, pushing them down in one fluid motion, taking his boxers with them as well. When you looked down you saw his thick cock poke out from the confines of his pants. His hand wrapped around the root of his cock, giving himself slow pumps as his eyes met yours from above. Something had shifted in him, his expression more hungry. Animalistic. You feel him lean over you, his free hand resting beside your head and caging you in his grasp. You feel the tip of his cock press against your soaked folds, sliding up and down your slit in a slow teasing manner. 

“Caleb,” you whined, scooting yourself down toward him to try and relieve the pressure building between your legs. “Don’t,” he warned, his hand moving from himself to grip your hip, pressing you against the mattress firmly. He took his time teasing himself against you before nudging himself inside of you, bottoming out with a muffled groan. You inhaled sharply, feeling him stretch you out all at once.

“Fuck (Y/N), you feel so good,” He panted above you, both his arms now pressed against the mattress on either side of you. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. His body betrayed him, as he felt his hips begin to move on their own. He pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward, the loud sound of skin on skin rang out in the air. You let out a surprised yelp, feeling him re-enter your swollen tunnel. You pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to contain the noises that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh no no no,” Caleb’s hand wrapped around yours, pulling your hand off your face and pressing it above your head. “I wanna hear you say my name. Over and over and over again.” He rolled his hips into you, leaning his head down to press a kiss to your jaw. His lips parted, beginning to suck on the tender skin. 

“Caleb, fuck-.” You breathed heavily, exhaling as he pleased you in all the right places.

“That's it, baby, say it again.” He urges you, his hips rolling into yours faster, picking up his pace. He began pistoning in and out of you, small pants and moans as his hips smacked into yours. You reached up around his neck, pulling him back into you for a fervent kiss. Your lips melded together, tongues roaming into each other's mouths as he pounded into you. Your nails clawed into him as he rammed into you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You felt his pace become faster and more erratic the more you clenched around his length. He knew you were getting close. He broke the kiss for a second, his head dropping down in earshot.

“You’re being such a good girl (Y/N),” he exhaled, his breath hot and tickling against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” His thrusts slowed into a tantalizing pace, the force behind each motion growing. 

You gripped the sheets beneath you, whining as he slowly ruined you. “You, Caleb,” you paused, a choked noise escaping your throat as he bottomed out in you. “Caleb I’m yours- Fuck,” you moaned, your lower half arching into his cock. 

“Yeah?” Caleb picked up his pace slightly, his hand reaching down to caress your face. He cupped your cheek before his fingertips trailed down to the valley between your breasts. “Should I fill you up with my seed? Make you full with my kids?” His hips began mercilessly slamming into you, both your moans drowned out by the overwhelming sound of skin on skin. His brows furrowed as he threw his head back, feeling you engulf him completely. His hands both found your waist, gripping onto your soft flesh for stability as he chased his high. The more you clenched around him, approaching your own climax, the faster his hips snapped into yours. 

“Caleb I’m gonna-,” Your voice cracked, the coil snapping in your stomach as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m gonna- fill you up so good. Gonna make you pregnant with my children.” His thrusts became sloppy and desperate, his body tensing as you gripped him impossibly tighter. With a final thrust, he came undone, spilling his fluids inside of you; pumping you full of himself. You could feel his cock twitch with every rope of cum he shot inside of you, you’d never felt so full before. He was breathless for a moment, his eyes bore into yours with a deep flash of desire and something more primal, more possessive. When he eventually separated himself from you, he let out a small exhale of satisfaction. You twitched at his exit, feeling his fluid begin to leak out of your sensitive hole. 

“Don’t let it go to waste now, hm?” Calebs fingers ghosted along your folds, swiping up any escaping cum and stuffing it back into your pussy. You shuddered and let out a soft whine, feeling his fingers penetrate you briefly. “So sensitive,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay, pipsqueak?” His hand moved up to settle on your thigh, pulling you close to him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reached up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a peck to his lips.

“Let me go grab you some water, alright? Just give me a second.” He slowly sat up and out of bed, reaching over you to pull his bed cover over your bare body. He fussed with your hair like he always did, and grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed. Once he was fully dressed and made presentable, he grabbed his water bottle off his desk and headed outside his dorm. He paused in the door frame, leaving it open a crack. “It’s right down the hall, I won’t be long.” He gave you a soft smile before disappearing down the hallway, his door slowly closing shut with a soft click.

Hello everyone im back xd !! After years of taking a break of writing I have found a love for LADS,, I initially wrote this fic for a friend but thought I'd post so others may indulge <3 hope you enjoy

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ cute guy next door / caleb x reader

synopsis; you're woken up by your new neighbor moving in loud as hell on a saturday morning, but upon seeing his face, maybe you aren't that mad anymore.

🍎 pomme's notes — pushing my mark lee caleb agenda and experimenting because i have not written a series in a while but i think caleb boy next door/uni crush? the greatest thing ever. LET ME HAVE HIM

⋆ 700 words / fluff / fem reader / uni au (no evol!) / 2nd person

it was saturday early morning when you were brutally woken up by loud steps coming from the apartment next door.

god, your head was ringing. you had two ethics finals yesterday, and you couldn't even rest because your manager needed you to come in for a late night shift. today was supposed to be a sleeping-in kind of day, waking up at 12 or something — but instead, here you were, forced to listen to the steps of several movers at 7am on a saturday.

rough weekend start.

draping yourself in a cozy hoodie, you head out to check out all this commotion and provide your new neighbor with some strongly worded opinions about making so much noise on a weekend. when you swing your door open, though, you're met with resistance and a groan.

great. you just hit your stupidly loud new neighbor in the face with your damn door.

“oh my god, are you okay?? i'm so sorry!”

hands outstretched in the direction of the tall brunette in front of you, he peers at you with quite possibly the most gorgeous eyes you've ever seen. he waves you off with a bright smile, his hand still rubbing his reddening nose.

“all good, don't worry. i wanted to say hi and apologize for the noise — i'm caleb, your new neighbor.”

and man, was caleb a hottie.

clad in a sleeveless tank top and black sweatpants, you had to hold yourself back from ogling the guy you desperately wanted to tell off this morning. sweat trickled down his muscled arms from carrying boxes into his new place, and what a delightful sight it was. in his hands was a small glass container, which he handed over to you, and before you can even ask what's in it, you're interrupted.

"braised chicken wings. as an apology for all the noise," he laughs (and what a cute laugh it was, you think), “my specialty. hopefully, you aren't allergic?”

“no, no allergies at all. thank you, caleb.”

his name rolled off your tongue so nicely. you really needed to get to know him soon. maybe he attended the same uni you did? leaning against your doorframe, you look into his eyes again, and you thought the "getting lost in one's eyes" pickup line was a gross exaggeration until you met him. it's as if a million sunsets took place within his irises, and the way they'd close a bit when he smiled? was this love at first sight? after introducing yourself to him, you ask the question (to which you pray the answer is yes).

“are you here to attend skyhaven university? this place is pretty close, that's why i chose it.”

caleb gives you a nod, his face lighting up when you mentioned it. 

“yeah, aerospace engineering major! i transferred from linkon uni. will i see you around?”

oh my god, he's cute, he knows how to cook, AND he's smart. yep, you were definitely going to get closer to him — even if it's just as friends. the sight of that face was going to help you not end it all when your philosophy professor assigned you a horrible team for your group projects.

“mhmm, i'm a humanities major. pretty sure the departments are pretty close by, so we'll definitely see each other around!”

while you two talked, the movers were getting close to finishing the job. they glanced at caleb and motioned for him to come check if anything was missing — your conversation had to be cut short. he turns to you before stepping away, and he ends up being the one asking the question lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“can i have your number, dear neighbor? since we'll be seeing each other a bunch in the next few months.”

and with your number on his phone, you return to your bed, a wide grin on your face, your day significantly better than how it started. caleb was about to be the highlight of your uni experience.

— secretly, caleb was also looking forward to seeing you around. a pretty girl as his neighbor instead of an old man, and you attended the same place? he'd have to 'run out of sugar' soon and knock on your door again.

🍎 pomme's final notes — think of this as an appetizer.. i need to figure out a plot soon but i needed to put this idea out in the world before i fell asleep and lost it LOL

[bueckets]

thank you for taking the time to read my works. below you'll find a collection of my series and standalone stories organized for easy browsing. i hope you find something that gets you onto santas naughty list.

Series

The Prophecy | Finished

Description: They call her The Prophecy—basketball’s impossible phenomenon, rewriting what it means to be perfect on the court. With a near-flawless shooting record and a mind just as sharp in aerospace engineering as it is in breaking down defenses, her name sparks awe, envy, and relentless scrutiny. But perfection has its cost.

But even legends have weak spots. When a high-stakes matchup against LSU draws the attention of Paige Bueckers—the golden face of college basketball—The Prophecy’s flawless world starts to crack. On the court, they’re rivals, locked in a battle for supremacy. Off the court, late-night texts and shared moments blur the lines between competition and something much harder to define.

Word Count: 30K

Part: Start Here

The Hit List | In Progress

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

Word Count: 34k

Part: Start Here

One Shots

Thin Walls

Description: When a sleep-deprived biomed student moves in with UConn’s most notorious heartbreaker, you expect late-night film study, protein shake graveyards, and an apartment perpetually scented like sweat and victory. What you don’t expect? Thin walls. And Paige Bueckers making absolutely no effort to keep her extracurricular activities quiet.

What starts as a battle for basic human decency turns into something far messier—petty revenge plots, mind games laced with innuendo, and an unspoken tension that neither of you is willing to name. Paige plays like she owns the court, like she owns the world, and maybe—just maybe—like she wants to own you, too.

They say pressure makes diamonds, but when it comes to Paige Bueckers, it just might make a disaster.

WC: 8.4k

Read Me

Competitive Stamina

Tags: fuck buddies with unresolved issues, unbearable sexual tension, dom!Paige, strap, degradation, slapping, edging, post-game aggression sex, possessive paige, rough sex that solves nothing, idk just porn w minimal plot (I KNOOOOOW)

WC: 6.3k-ish

Read Me

Going UP?

Description: From missed alarms to broken elevators, your Tuesday couldn’t get worse, well, until it gets better. When a late-running grad student’s desperate dash to save her thesis turns into an unexpected elevator encounter with UConn basketball sensation Paige Bueckers, she learns that sometimes the best assists come from broken machinery.

Armed with nothing but coffee-fueled anxiety and an encyclopedic knowledge of basketball analytics, you find yourself trading quips with college basketball’s golden girl in a stalled elevator. What starts as a disaster turns into something else entirely when basketball theory meets practice, terrible jokes meet dangerous grins, and hot chocolate meets, well, everywhere except the mug.

They say love is a game of chances. But when you’re trapped between floors with a girl who can bend physics on the court and make your heart run suicides off it, maybe it’s worth taking the shot.

Sometimes cupid doesn’t use arrows. Sometimes he just breaks the elevator.

Word Count: 8.1K

Part: Start Here

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[nomie-11]

My Clothes? Your Clothes

masterlist!

synopsis: 5 times Y/n stole Vi's clothes, and the one time Vi had to (consensually) steal them back

pairing: vi x reader

The Hoodie ‘incident’ 

The first time Y/n stole a piece of Vi’s clothes, she didn’t think too far into it. 

It had been a late night at Vi’s place. A long study session turned cuddle session turned fucking session that didn’t give Y/n the opportunity to go back home to get some sleep in her own apartment. And now Y/n was running late—again. Piltover University’s Department of Science and Engineering was relentless with their 8:00 a.m. lectures, and in Y/n’s rush to leave after oversleeping comfortably in Vi’s arms, she snagged the first thing she could find to throw over her tank top: Vi’s navy blue hoodie with ‘Piltover University Women’s Hockey’ splayed across the front in white and gold text. 

Y/n hadn’t even realized she had taken Vi’s hoodie until she was halfway across campus. The hoodie was comfortable, oversized, smelling faintly of Vi’s citrusy cologne and the laundry detergent her father still dropped off because ‘Vi would forget to use soap otherwise.’ Y/n decided it wasn’t worth turning back. 

Later that night, when Vi showed up for their gym time, she crossed her arms and smirked. “So… any reason you’re parading around in my favorite hoodie, cupcake?” 

Y/n flushed, but the grin on her face was both evil and radiant. “It was cold, and I was late.” 

Vi laughed, but pulled Y/n in by the waist, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “You look cute, keep it.”

2. Perfect sized sweatpants

The second time Y/n helped herself to Vi’s clothes, it was less about need and more about temptation. 

Vi’s sweatpants were infamous in Y/n’s mind. Every time Y/n saw her lounging around in them, they hung low on her hips, slung in that perfect way that revealed a teasing glimpse of her toned abs and the waistband of her boxer briefs. Y/n had always wondered if the magic was in the sweatpants herself, not the Vi’s v-line was irresistibly attractive. 

So one lazy Sunday, when Vi was out running errands and Y/n had stayed behind to work on her and Jayce’s aerospace project, she gave in. She rifled through Vi’s dresser, pulling out the dark gray sweatpants she’d been eyeing. 

Sliding them on, Y/n realized immediately they were way too big. The waistband hung dangerously low on her hips, and every step threatened to send them sliding even lower. But damn, were they comfortable. 

By the time Vi got home, Y/n was sprawled on the couch, laptop on her lap, wearing Vi’s sweatpants and a cropped tee. She didn’t notice the faint blush creeping up Vi’s cheeks when she walked in. 

“Uh… cupcake?” Vi’s voice cracked slightly. “You… comfortable there?” 

Y/n looked up from her lecture, grinning. “These? So comfy. You might not get them back.” 

Vi’s gaze dropped for a second, catching the hint of lacy black peeking out from the waistband. She quickly looked away, clearing her throat. “Yeah, uh… keep ‘em. They look good on you.” 

Y/n smirked, knowing exactly what caught Vi’s eyes. “You’re the best, babe.” 

Vi muttered something about going to get a drink of water and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Y/n grinning triumphantly. 

3. The tank top that burnt dinner

The third time was entirely accidental—or so Y/n claimed. Vi had left one of her gym tanks at Y/n’s place after a sweaty training session, and it had ended up in Y/n’s laundry when she did it for the week. By the time she realized it wasn’t hers, she was already wearing it. 

The tank was loose and cut wide on the sides, designed to give Vi full mobility when throwing punches. On Y/n it was long, the oversized armholes dipped low, showing off the soft lavender lace bralette she had on underneath. 

When Vi came over to Y/n’s apartment that evening, Y/n was making dinner in the kitchen, still wearing the tank. She didn’t hear Vi come in—she had given her a spare key two months ago—but she had definitely heard the low whistle from the doorway. 

“Damn, cupcake. You trying to kill me?” 

Y/n turned, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

Vi gestured vaguely at the tank. “That. You’re gonna make me burn dinner, and I’m not even cooking.” 

Y/n glanced down, realizing just how much of her bralette was visible. A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face. “You like?” 

Vi didn’t answer with words. Instead, she strode forward, closing the distance between them in three long steps. Her hands found Y/n’s hips, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together. 

“You know I do,” Vi murmured, her voice low and teasing. Her fingers toyed with the hem of the tank, brushing against the soft bare skin underneath. “You’re lucky I have self-control, cupcake.” 

Y/n tilted her head up, her smile turning daring. “Oh? Prove it.” 

Vi’s smirk widened, and she leaned down, capturing Y/n’s lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It started soft but quickly deepened, Vi’s grip on Y/n’s waist tightening as her tongue teased against Y/n’s. Y/n sighed into the kiss, her hands sliding up Vi’s arms to loop around her neck, pulling her even closer. 

The simmering pot on the stove gurgled in protest, but neither of them paid it any mind. Vi’s hands traveled upward, brushing against the soft fabric of Y/n’s bralette, her fingers lightly grazing her sides. Y/n gasped against her lips, the sound sending a jolt of heat through Vi’s chest. 

Vi gently pushed Y/n back against the counter, her lips trailing down Y/n’s jaw and to her neck, where she pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made Y/n’s knees wobble. Y/n tangled her fingers in Vi’s short, soft hair, tugging lightly, which earned her a low groan from the taller woman. 

“You’re impossible,” Y/n breathed, her voice shaky with a mix of laughter and pure, hot desire. 

Vi grinned against her neck. “And you’re wearing my tank. Fair trade.” 

Another kiss, deeper and more urgent this time, and Y/n arched into her, lost in the moment—until the sharp sizzle of something boiling over on the stove broke through the haze. 

“Shit!” Y/n yelped, pulling away and scrambling to turn the burner off. The pot bubbled angrily, sauce spilling over the edges, and Y/n grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. 

Behind her, Vi leaned against the counter, her lips red and her expression smug. “Told you dinner was gonna burn,” she teased. 

Y/n shot her a glare, but the blush on her cheeks and the swelling on her lips betrayed her. “Maybe if you weren’t so distracting…” 

Vi snorted and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Y/n’s waist from behind, her chin resting on Y/n’s shoulder. “I’m the distracting one? Cupcake, you were begging to be kissed in this tank.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Guess we’re ordering takeout.” 

“Perfect,” Vi murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “Leaves more time for dessert.” 

4. Leather jackets and Vi’s cologne

It was raining—hard. Y/n had forgotten her umbrella at the library, and by the time Y/n had run all the way to the hockey rink to pick up Vi after practice, she was soaked through. 

“You’re gonna get sick,” Vi scolded, shrugging off her leather jacket and draping it over Y/n’s shoulders. 

Y/n clutched it tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and Vi’s cologne. “You’re my hero.” 

The jacket dwarfed her, the sleeves hanging well past her hands. But as Vi walked home, holding her umbrella between the two of them, she couldn’t help but sneaking glances at Y/n, who was snuggled into the jacket like it was the coziest thing in the world. 

“You look good in that,” Vi admitted as they rounded the corner to Caitlyn’s apartment complex for a study session. 

Y/n grinned. “I know.” 

5. Soft punk wannabe beanie

It wasn’t technically clothes, but it still counted. 

Vi had a favorite beanie—a soft black knit one she wore religiously in the winter. Y/n had always teased her about it, calling her a ‘soft punk wannabe.’ 

But one particularly cold morning after Y/n had spent the night at Vi’s apartment, Y/n swiped it on her way out the door. She was freezing, and her own hat was nowhere to be found (Powder took it on her way out of the door last night by accident after bothering Vi for three hours). 

When Vi met up with her and Jayce later that day, she didn’t say anything at first. She just smirked, watching Y/n pull the beanie further down over her ears. 

“Comfy?” Vi asked. 

“Very,” Y/n replied, unbothered. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Vi said, but the affection in her tone was impossible to miss. 

+1. The jeans rescue

The one time Vi had to steal something back, it was a matter of survival. 

Y/n had somehow ended up with Vi’s favorite jeans. How that happened was still a mystery, but now Vi was standing in her closet, staring at an empty shelf where her jeans should have been. 

“I’m coming over,” she texted Y/n. 

Y/n replied instantly: Kk. Why?

“You’ve got my jeans and I’m out of clothes.” 

When Vi showed up, Y/n was standing on the coffee table, taking in an overhead view of her physics notes sprawled across the floor, wearing the jeans in question. They were a little loose on her, the cuffs rolled up at the ankles, but she looked so effortlessly cute that Vi almost didn’t want to take them back. 

Key word being almost. 

“Alright, cupcake, hand ‘em over,” Vi said, crossing her arms. 

Y/n looked over, an evil grin on her face. “Take them off of me,” 

Vi’s smirk widened at Y/n’s challenge. “Oh, cupcake, you’re playing a dangerous game,” she said, her voice low and teasing as she stepped closer. 

Y/n tilted her head, feigning innocence while backing up slightly. “What? You said you needed your jeans, come and get them.” 

Vi closed the distance in a single stride, her hands landing firly on Y/n’s hips. “You’re so annoying, you know that?” her voice was a low rasp, full of amusement and affection. 

“Maybe,” Y/n quipped, her voice dropping a bit, “but you like it.” 

Vi’s hand slid to Y/n’s waist, gripping just enough to keep her in place. “Oh, I love it,” she murmured before scooping Y/n up in one swift motion, earning a surprised squeal. 

“Vi!” Y/n laughed, swatting at her shoulder as Vi carried her bridal-style toward the bedroom. 

“You told me to take them off, so I’m just following orders,” Vi teased, kicking the door shut behind them. She set Y/n down gently on the bed, pausing to let her catch her breath. Her gaze lingered on Y/n, taking in the way her low-rise jeans sat on her hips, the soft curves and lines of her waist, hips, and thighs that made her want to forget everything else. 

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, her smile shifting from playful to something more inviting. “Well?” she prompted, raising a brow. “You gonna follow through, or were you bluffing?”

Vi leaned down, bracing herself with one arm on the bed while her free hand slid to Y/n’s waistband. “Cupcake, you know I don’t bluff,” her fingers deftly undid the button and tugged down the zipper, the sound filling the room like a signal bell. She kissed Y/n, soft at first, then deeper, her hand gently guiding the jeans down Y/n’s thighs. 

The denim slid easily, revealing more of Y/n’s skin with each movement. Vi broke the kiss, her lips trailing down Y/n’s jaw, her neck, and lower still, her breath warm against Y/n’s skin. She pressed kisses to the inside of Y/n���s thigh, her voice low and gravelly as she murmured, “you keep stealing my clothes, cupcake, and I’ll keep finding excuses to take them back.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in Vi’s hair as her laughter melted into a soft gasp. “Maybe that’s the plan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. 

Vi grinned against her skin, her hands sliding up to hold Y/n steady. “My smart girl,” she said, her lips moving in a slow deliberate path up Y/n’s thigh. “Let’s see how far this plan takes you.”

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[novelistwriter]

Fraid in DC

DP x DC Prompt

Danny's life had been going well, his parents had accepted his Ghost Half, Dash is less of an asshole and is trying to better himself, same for Vlad, and Dan had reformed! That's when things began to go south. The world around Danny began to crumble around him and the Halfa tried to save as many people as he could.

He could only save three people... Jazz, Dash and Wes... he tried to save others... they were killed before he could even reach them. And when Danny found out that the Observants were the cause of his world being destroyed? He attacked them, nearly wiped them out, it took the might of Dan, Dani and Vlad to hold him back and get him back to his senses.

Vlad was trusted to be Regent while Danny grows up, as he is too young to inherit the Throne of the Ghost King, Clockwork even found a dimension that Danny, Dani, Jazz, Dash and Wes could live in, it's similar enough to theirs that they wouldn't destabilize the dimension by being in it.

Dan remains with Vlad to protect him, while Fright Knight goes with Danny to protect him. They were set up with a good apartment to live in which is located in a city called Gotham, as it's the only city they have learned that allows minors to live in the apartment if their adult guardian(s) give the information themselves.

All four of them are going to Gotham University, paid for with Danny's fortune he inherited with the Ghost King title. Jazz is in Psychology, Danny is in Aerospace, Engineering and Programming, Programming because he wants to remember Tucker in a way, he'salso got the smarts for it, he even helps take care of plants to remember Sam, Dash is obviously going for a sports major, and Wes is living in Gotham, but going to Metropolis for his journalism.

Things have been going well, but there are people snooping around them, they don't know it, but Danny is an Alternate Jason, Dash is an Alternate Oliver Queen, Wes is an Alternate Wally, and Jazz is an Alternate Barbara, and Danny knows that the Heroes are snooping around them, because he can feel them entering his temporary Haunt.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

okay.....inhales...... UNIVERSITY AU!!!!!! Crew members as university professors x student! Reader who has a massive, explosive, crush on them!!!!

💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

TEACHERS PET— Professor! Crew Members x Student! Reader who has a massive crush on them!

warnings: college! AU, student/teacher relationship dynamics, power dynamics, reader is 18. No NSFW in this one,jimmy being manipulative, the characters being a little inappropriate.

note: y'all want a part 2? I can make one where the reader proposes, and then one with relationship dynamics and how it would play out. angst maybe? Lemme know.

PROF. GRANT CURLY

He would be the professor of data science/and or aerospace engineering, with astrophysics.

Extremely well liked at the University, students and teachers alike look up to him due to his approachable demeanor and calm and respectable nature.

Very responsible as an authoritative figure, in his years of expertise, he's never had a single complaint ever come in from the board or from any student/guardian.

Which is why he basically fell into a dilemma when you one of his top students, started looking at him in a way that he was sure wasn't platonic.

Curly is very strict on keeping his personal and professional life apart.

He tried to convince himself, that it was just a puppy crush and it would soon go away.

But boy oh boy, nothing had prepared him for the day that you snuck into his office in the pretense of asking subject related questions.

He could practically feel your eyes being fixated on him, it didn't help how you were so devastatingly attractive either.

He doesn't wanna risk his career, and your educational prowess.

But God, He doesn't know how he's going to handle this predicament he's gotten himself into.

PROF. JIMMY ZARE

Oh boy. Oh dear.

He's a Psychology Professor fasho.

You've chosen the wrong older man to fall in love, this guy is literally the man LDR sings about.

Sure, he was probably the strictest and sternest professor on campus grounds, but he was also... The sexiest one, and he didn't even hide the fact that he didn't know how many young adults in the institution were practically drooling over him. His rough stud persona.

He never paid them any attention, sure he dropped in flirty smiles and winks every now and then to get the girls weak in their knees, but that all stopped when he laid his eyes on you.

you were this young, bright, cheery and oh so beautiful student, who happened to look at him in a way which he wasn't unfamiliar with.

He knew you were falling, hard.

Normally, he would of just ignored your desperate attempts at getting to know him, telling you off or extreme case just sleep with you to fulfill your desires of extra credits.

But no, you weren't looking at him entirely for lust, oh no no no.

He recognised that you were madly, deeply, in love.

And to him, you just seemed so tempting.

Like an angel whose wings he had to rip apart, a beautiful doll whose innocence he had to taint.

And he isn't quite sure if he's going to pass out on the opportunity.

PROF. ANYA MARINOVA

Psychology/Biology professor.

Extremely sweet, yet extremely stern, like curly, she prefers to keep her work and professional life separate.

She understands body language really well, so she was quick to catch onto your lingering eyes on her.

She acknowledges the fact that having romantic feelings for an authoritative figure is completely normal and part of a normal human psyche.

What she doesn't,is to act upon those feelings.

When she noticed you staying back during classes

She tries to play it coy, not giving you any attention.

But at one point, she begins to question even her morals.

Maybe it's not too bad? Time will tell.

PROF. SWANSEA HAROLD

Definitely the professor of Mechanical Engineering/Computer Engineering.

The typical no-nonsense straight to the point type professor.

Is extremely stern, hence is quite unpopular with the students.

It's a good day if he even acknowledged your existence, let alone engaging in a conversation.

He is quick to call out mistakes, hence if you wanna stand out you have to be a very good student who doesn't make any trouble or aren't inattentive.

He appreciates the students who actually take interest in the material rather than just mug everything up for passing.

But he isn't dumb, he's had his fair share of students crushing on him during his first years on the job.

He knows when a student starts paying too much attention to the guy teaching a boring ass physics formula.

He knows better than to indulge in their fantasies, to give them the delusional idea that something might be possible between the two of you.

But you caught his attention not just for your looks, okay maybe a little bit for your looks. but he'd also noticed how diligent you were as a student.

He's starting to question maybe it won't be too bad, it's been a while since he had some game. and you're both adults, so it should be fine right?

GUEST PROF. DAISUKE JUANEZ

Bro stormed through school and managed to bag the position as a guest lecturer at your college for a mechanical engineering course.

Since he's literally so unbelievably young, he has fangirls and fanboys left and right, and he knows it, he isn't dense.

But he promised himself he won't date any students since he thought they would only see him as a fantasy not someone to genuinely love.

But that was until you came into the picture.

He felt something the moment you locked eyes with him, he saw something in those eyes of yours, staring at him so dreamily.

He knows he's young, and he knows that you're as well, but he also knows that anything inappropriate between the two of you could result in him losing his job and risking even your future.

But he knows how to keep a secret, maybe you can as well?