#rest writes

[restwellsoon]

Double Dog Dare Ya

Pairing: Caleb x F!Reader

Summary: Wound up and worn thin from work, the only way you’ve been able to find relief is through some acts of self-love the moment you get home… which wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your nightly rituals were keeping Caleb up at night.

“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”

Warnings: sex toys, mutual masturbation, childhood friends-to-lovers, smut, Reader is MC! and we all know that MC matches Caleb’s freak!!!, dom/sub undertones

Minors and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Turning the doorknob, your body ached as you crossed the threshold home, exhausted from a stretch of long days being on your feet, only to return to the office to spend hours typing up reports and providing additional information for Tara and her team. Even though Captain Jenna swore this torturous overtime would end soon, you were doubtful–even your Hunter’s Watch was pushed to its limits, overheating and rebooting a couple of times a day. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have minded, however, your original plan was to spend your time off with Caleb since this mission was in Skyhaven. All of this unexpected overtime meant that your free time was wasted on sleep.

‘It wasn’t like our schedules aligned anyway,’ you tried to tell yourself as you quietly slid your boots off, dropping them off in their usual spot before tiptoeing across the shadowed living room to reach your bedroom. Caleb’s house was proof of it–if you weren’t here for your mission, there’d hardly be any signs of life since the Colonel was often away for work. The moonlight hid cobwebs in the corners of the room.

Shooting a glance towards his bedroom, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, lingering at your doorway. Texts and calls weren’t enough. You needed him beside you.

Resigned, you entered your room, closing the door with a soft shut. Flicking the light switch, you scanned the area as a renewed sense of energy filled you as your eyes adjusted to the light. Despite your protests, Caleb redecorated it entirely, choosing a style that reminded you of your childhood bedroom but more elevated. 

There was a bounce in your step as you danced through your nightly routine, stripping off your uniform in a trail that led to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you crawled under the covers in nothing more than your underwear. 

Though you wanted to start right away, work still served as a mental block, and you replayed today’s events over, trying to fit it within the grand scheme of this mission. A voice in the back of your head told you to stop working so hard, that this was your time to relax.

Tara was the first to notice, replying back to the first report you sent her as ‘too detailed.’ 

“What’s wrong with too much detail, Tar’?” You gritted out, annoyed with the critique, her feedback warranting a call for immediate answers.

Unaffected by your aggression, she giggled, spinning a pen around her fingers before looking around to make sure none of her co-workers were eavesdropping. “I thought the whole point of going to Skyhaven was to meet up with your boy toy?”

“My best friend,” you corrected.

She hummed, “Is that what he thinks?”

“I don’t have time for this,” you snapped, multi-tasking and looking for the next location you had to hit, “so get to the point.”

“Look, if you start off at this pace from the get-go, this is what the big bosses are gonna expect. I’m just worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard, too fast. It’s not like this is an easy mission where you’re exterminating Wanderers… There’s a high likelihood of you burning out and mission failure.”

Your voice softened at her concern. “Sorry. You know how I get it–”–“Right, you’re Miss Perfection herself! That’s why you’re on the Alpha Team after all,” she interjected–“so I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. I know. I know you’re just worried, so thanks Tara. I’ll do my best to… not work so hard.”

Despite her concern, you did anything but. It’d gotten to the point that even Xavier noticed it a few times, commenting that your form was off during a brief extermination mission in-between this one. Sylus’ teasing remarks made you unintentionally self-conscious while Rafayel did his best to keep you from working as a hunter by working for him. You didn’t even want to imagine the kind of scolding Zayne would give you if he knew your sleeping and eating habits. You were surprised that in those rare moments when your schedules would cross, that Caleb even let you leave for work.

His touch lingered on your wrist, asking why you were up so early. It wasn’t so strange for him to leave before the sun rose, but for you? He was certain that the Association didn’t require Hunters to work such odd and long hours for undercover missions–this had to be of your own volition.

“Classified,” you tried to joke while stifling a yawn. It was an excuse to pull away from him–otherwise you wouldn’t leave the house.

His mouth twitched, fighting to say something more before dropping to a hum, sliding on the sleek leather of his gloves. He knew better than to press the matter. You’d deny, deny, deny until you were ready. His cap laid pristine on the counter.

Your breath caught in your throat, startling you from your mind’s wanderings.

When he put that uniform on, he was another person. 

When he took it off, he was Caleb again.

But when the uniform was on, he looked so…

Your mind gave up on finding the perfect word as you closed your eyes, thinking of the stiff lines of his silhouette. It quickly devolved into flickering through different memories of Caleb in various states of dress. Despite living together for so long, you surprisingly never walked in on the other naked. Simpler needs prevented you from dwelling on the reason behind your disappointment about that.

Squeezing your thighs together, you knew you were wet, and blindly you reached inside the night stand’s drawer to grab your toy.

You were probably wet enough to take it easily, but still you brought it to your lips. The faceless lovers you thought of and disjointed lust you normally felt weren’t there.

Taking the dildo in your mouth, you sucked slowly before taking in a few more inches. Your tongue swirled around the head before focusing on its length, using the veins as a guideline. Once satisfied, you dragged it from your mouth, down your chest and let it sit, heavy, over your center.

How would he want you? Fully bare to contrast to his uniform? You would follow whatever commands the colonel gave you. Or would he push your panties aside, rushing in eagerly as if this was what he always wanted? It could have been the Caleb of the past or the one in the present; it didn’t matter as long as it was him.

You moved your panties aside, giving yourself a tentative push before slowly sinking in. Forgetting yourself, you let out a sigh.

–

Whatever excitement Caleb had for your business trip melted into worry as he realized the time he spent with you was less than expected. The short periods where you could videochat weren’t enough, and even then, he could see the dark circles under your eyes. Your location often showed you bouncing around various establishments across Skyhaven and occasionally doing a turnaround trip from here and the Association’s HQ back in Linkon.

Well your location hasn’t changed at all today, you texted back once.

yeah, because there aren’t any signal towers or wifi in the deepspace tunnel, dummy :p

Your only response was the middle finger emoji, earning you an annoying ‘well maybe if you weren’t working so much, we could try.’ You didn’t have time to ask if he was joking.

The timing would have been perfect if you actually let yourself rest. Missions with the Fleet were limited to patrolling the Deepspace Tunnel’s borders instead of exploration, meaning Caleb was actually home for once. He almost wished that the higher-ups would schedule some recon instead of patrol–at least he’d have more tasks to distract himself with. Whether it was in his office, at a meeting, or at home, Caleb was on edge until he got that ‘I’m home :)’ text and knew that you were safe.

Sleep deprivation and meeting the rigorous demands of his job weren’t new to him. Managing such unpleasant things were a foundational part of his education at the Aerospace Academy after all. When he came home at night, sleep was never an issue.

What kept him up at night was curiosity. 

The hours you returned home would vary, but the routine was always the same: set your boots down, tiptoe across the house until you reached your bedroom, then…

He grew half-hard at the thought of what would happen next.

It was cute actually. Even though you tried to be as quiet as you could be, there was no denying the telltale sound of your pussy getting fucked by something. There wasn’t any humming that would indicate a vibe. Based on your noises, he doubted you were using your fingers either. A dildo then was the only logical assumption. 

Curiosity threatened to beat down his iron-clad will as he fought every urge to sneak into your room to see what it looked like. Was it pink? How’d it look? Where did you even get it?

Giving his cock a squeeze, he showed himself some mercy and gave into its wants. Not bothering to do more work than necessary, he pulled his cock through the fly of his boxers, and it weeped pre-cum in thanks.

You had to have bought it when he died, he decided.

You two shared your locations with each other the moment you got phones, and he knew you weren’t dumb enough to stop sharing it for a moment, otherwise he’d know. That kind of confrontation was something your younger self wouldn’t want. You had enough blackmail on each other to the point that Gran would have locked you both up for weeks if she knew what you two got into as rebellious teens.

Even though he hated that his death left you crying and hurt, the thought of you being struck with grief, missing him, wanting him, needing him to the point of finding something to replace that void turned him on immensely.

His strokes were clumsy and desperate–a pathetic attempt to live out the fantasy of you wanting him as hopelessly as he wanted you.

–

“You lookin’ for a midnight snack or what?” A voice asked from behind, holding you in place before you could jump. The fridge light highlighted Caleb’s features. “Remember? I texted you about the leftovers, but if you really want something else, I know a place that does delivery until 2.”

“I’m just thirsty,” you told him before grabbing a bottle of water. 

“Me too,” he explained himself. “Lately I’ve been parched at night.”

You ducked under him so he could grab one too, leaning on the kitchen island backwards to look at him. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting he flipped on.

Caleb was never one to fuss about what he wore to bed, and tonight was no different. He wore a muscle tee and a pair of sweats that hung far too low on his hips. The band of his boxers were showing. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he killed off the bottle of water, using his Evol to open the trash lid and toss it in. The little red gem from the necklace you gave him winked as he approached you.

Taking another sip of water, you gulped, thinking that your earlier thoughts would have left you the moment you came. Instead, they lingered, making you hyper aware of Caleb in a way that felt inappropriate and wrong. You’ve had thoughts like these before, but this time, they weren’t so easy to push away. You shouldn’t look at your best friend that way.

The bottle’s clang was metallic as you set it down on the counter. “Has the Fleet been overworking you?” 

Guilt replaced shame as you realized that you hadn’t been attentive to him despite everything he was doing for you.

“Nah,” his eyes swept over you. He used a hand to corral you towards the living room and couches. “I’ve just been extra thirsty lately. Hey, don’t look at me with those eyes, pipsqueak. I’m fine. An energy drink? I don’t drink those, and neither should you…”

You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t say that he sounds like Zayne. You didn’t want to think about anyone else besides Caleb.

“Well, it seems like you’re energized now,” you told him, glancing at the clock. 

“Being around you has me feelin’ recharged and refreshed. I don’t wanna go back to bed just yet.”

“Wanna watch a movie then?”

He nodded, grabbing the remote.

When you were kids and had all the energy in the world, there was nothing better than staying up late and watching movies together. Grandma would scold you two for falling asleep in the living room, saying that you’d catch a cold. Both of you would claim different parts of the living room then.

Now you cuddled up to Caleb, using a small pillow to serve as the only barrier between you and his lap while he turned the TV on and flipped to a random channel.

“You better not fall asleep on me,” he teased, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

Stifling a yawn, you told him it was fine even if you did. “I have a few days off starting tomorrow,” you said, lazily digging your feet under a folded blanket. “Jenna texted me right when I got home and said that according to Linkon’s labor laws, I’m mandated to take a rest period, especially since this assignment seems like it’ll take longer than expected. If I fall asleep, we can pick up where we left off.”

“Yeah?” His hand brushed your shoulder as you turned your attention to the screen. It looked like he put on some rom-com that was popular when you were in college. He used his Evol to flick the blanket over you. “I’m off for a few days too.”

This time, it was his turn to yawn.

“Our vacation’s starting off strong, isn’t it?”

Silently you watched the movie, each of you letting out an occasional chuckle until the sound of rain and muffled love confession lulled you to sleep.

–

The clock read 2 AM as Caleb decided to finally take you back to your room. He thought you’d stir awake on your own a few times, burying your face into the cushion that separated you. It pressed and rubbed against him, forcing Caleb to do his best in subtly shifting himself, but there was only so much a man could take.

“Alright, pipsqueak, I’m takin’ you back. It’s late,” he murmured, smiling softly at the groan he received in return.

Using his Evol, he lifted you so he could pick you up bridal style. Your reaction was instinctive, arms wrapping loosely around his shoulders as you buried your face in his neck. 

“You couldn’t have brought the blanket too?” You mumbled, each word brushing your lips against his skin. The faint scent of his body wash and cologne still lingered, and throughout the years, he still smelled the same–strong and comforting despite everything–and you buried your nose against him. It might be a while before you see each other again.

His hum resonated from his throat to your skin. “Ever the demanding princess.”

“Princess?” You scoffed, hold still tight as you bounced on his body with each step he took. You shimmied against him as a threat. Caleb sucked in a breath. He could feel your hot center through your shorts, rubbing against his abs. You took that little noise he made as annoyance. “Fine then. I can walk.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, softly kicking your door open. “We’re already here.”

With the flick of his hand, you floated from his arms to your bed, quickly getting covered by the comforter. You shivered at its coolness. The heat from Caleb’s body was better.

“Night, Cal.”

Caleb lingered for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere except you. Finally, he said your name softly. “‘Night, pipsqueak. Try not to spend too long dreamin’ of me. I’m right here too.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for always bein’ here.”

His hand flexed as he fought with himself to say something more. Whatever it was, must not have been that important. He gave you a tight smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

–

Your need for rest finally caught up to you as you immediately fell asleep once Caleb left, hardly noticing the gentle shut of the door as he crept out. Your sleep was heavy and full, the kind of disorienting slumber that had you questioning the time of day and if you even slept at all.

Staring into the darkness of the ceiling, you realized that Caleb must have drawn the blackout curtains before leaving. You didn’t feel like seeing the blinding sky that Skyhaven offered just yet.

A knock on the door startled you. “Hey pipsqueak,” Caleb rapped on the door, “brunch is ready.”

“Brunch?” You called out, patting the nightstand for your phone.

There was a pause, then a soft laugh. “Yeah, brunch. It’s nearly noon.”

He was right. Your phone said it was five til twelve. Groaning, you grabbed the remote to open the blinds, the mechanical system rolling back the blackout curtains while the lighter gauzier set remained drawn, doing its best to blur out some of the brightness.

“‘Kay. I’ll be out in a minute,” you told him, sliding off your sleep shorts. You left them at the foot of the bed, telling yourself that you’d get them later when you did laundry.

You made your way to your bathroom, scrolling through your phone and reading all of your missed texts and emails. Somehow Tara and Jenna appeared on either shoulder, reminding you about the dangers of burnout and work-mandated rest periods. You saved your email as a draft, setting your phone on the edge of the sink facedown as you brushed your teeth. 

There was another knock at your door, and you answered a muffled ‘Yeah?’ through a mouth full of toothpaste froth and spit.

“Can’t hear you,” Caleb yelled, “so I’m comin’ in.”

The door opened with a squeak.

“Hey, I’m doing my laundry right now, so do you want me to do yours…”

His speech trailed, prompting you to step back into the room, following his line of sight.

Yelling out a garbled ‘Fuck!’, you spit the remainder of your toothpaste in the sink, tossing the brush in it too.

Despite your frantic cursing and movement, Caleb remained unswayed, eyes focused on the object that laid in the center of your messy bed. Mentally, you cursed Tara for her stupid suggestion about stress relief (“Well, if you’re boytoy isn’t gonna help with work stress, why not get a real toy?”) but you knew that deep down, the only person you could blame is yourself and your laziness.

“Well, what do we have here?” His fingers beckoned the toy over in all of its realistic silicone glory.

Mustering up all of your strength and pushing past your embarrassment, you tackled Caleb onto the bed, breaking his concentration. The dildo fell beside him.

You hadn’t fought like this since you were young, and it was obvious that Caleb would be the clear winner in this battle. Still, you did your best to wrestle with him, tumbling around in the sheets until you were a breathless mess. At least you were able to pin him beneath you.

While you were exerting all of your energy, Caleb was careful to control both of your movements, making sure you didn’t roll too far on one side of the bed and fall. He always liked giving you this false sense of control. There was something in that smug expression that he loved, from the way your eyes glittered to that haughty look you’d give him. The reward was worth it too. His wrists were pinned over his head as you settled all of your weight on him with straddled hips.

Your chest heaved, making the oversized DAA tee you borrowed billow with your breath. Despite its looseness, he could make out the soft curve of your tits. It took all of his control to hold back a groan–you were braless. Pantsless too, he realized when his eyes finally trailed down.

The glint in Caleb’s eyes was wicked, and his grin was much worse.

“Didn’t think you’d get that worked up about it,” he teased. It pissed you off that there wasn’t a hitch in his voice, no ragged breath. There was only amusement as he searched your face.

Refusing to give him whatever it was that he wanted, you looked away.

“There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself.” His left hand broke away from your grip to run his fingertips against your thigh. His voice was honey-sweet, his touch reassuring. “I’m just wonderin’ why you didn’t ask me for help.”

Your eyes flashed back to his, incredulous at his amethyst sincerity. “Caleb, there’s just some things that I can’t ask of you.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re–” The grip on his right wrist slackened.

He didn’t want to hear it, cutting you off. “You know I’d do anything for you because I…”

His hand settled on your hip, hotter than a brand–as if to mark you as his and his alone. If it were to leave such a mark, you wouldn’t have been opposed to it.

“You know I do too, but it’s not about that. I…” You trailed off, unsure if this was where you wanted to finally cross the line or deepen its boundary. “I mean, if I offered to… with you. Wouldn’t you…?”

“I guess I’m just surprised, is all.”

Now both hands were on either hip, keeping you in place. You kept your balance by lightly holding onto his shoulder.

“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”

You reeled back in fear that one look into your eyes would tell Caleb the truth. Scoffing, you hoped this act would be enough to feign your offense while you tried to think of how you could get the upper hand. But it was always difficult to surprise Caleb. Unless…

Unless you treated it like a dare. Like how you always did. The stupid acts of courage you’d challenge each other to, to see who’d fold first and confess their feelings. In the past, it’d always end the same way. Both of you were cowards.

You bit your lip. If you took this dare, what would become of you?

“What if I was? Is that so wrong?”

Caleb choked as you stared down at him, fire in your eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest as you sat on his lap, ass perfectly smothering his hard cock. It was a look that pinned him in place–hypergravity as its finest.

He saw the toy last night when he was tucking you into bed, and his only intention was to tease you. Your reaction was too over-the-top, too dramatic. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was delusion. But a part of him hoped that the reason for it was him.

“Really?”

You didn’t expect the truth to have so much power over him. His voice was doubtful, afraid that you’d set him up for some cruel prank. But like a dumb puppy, his eyes said it all–Caleb desperately wanted this to be real, his hope for your attention, your love, your desire apparent. You wanted to give him everything.

Pressing your body down to his, you weren’t sure if it was his heart or yours that was beating so fast. Your breath was fire against already flushed skin.

“Really.”

He swallowed hard. Even though he’d gotten used to the scent of you, the feel of you, everything was more erotic up close like this in heated want.

“And what…” His voice broke off, and you felt his fingers tremble against your skin. “What were you thinking of?”

This wasn’t the time for you to lose your bravado. 

“Kissing you… Feeling all of the parts of you that I’ve known.” A hand trailed down to his, holding it as the sheets got caught in-between. “And feeling all of the places that I’ve yet to discover.” You ground your hips against Caleb’s, teasing his length with the movement. 

Finally letting go of restraint, Caleb groaned. Your wetness left the fabric between you damp.

“We could do that now,” he begged, tugging on your hand. “You could have the real thing.” He pleaded with you with those puppy dog eyes.

You pulled back to look at him, a playful pout on your lips. “You’re not even gonna let me finish? You know, Caleb, sometimes you can be really mean.”

He was audibly panting now, hips pushing back against yours. “You wanna talk about mean?” He huffed.

“I thought it’d be easier to show you instead of telling you what I was thinking.” You leaned back, making a spot for yourself between his legs.

As you grabbed the toy beside him, he let out a pathetic and weak ‘oh.’ Seeing him come undone like this, seeing Caleb so weak and vulnerable gave you the courage you needed to keep on with this dare. You were the only one who should see him this way.

‘You’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?’ You thought. ‘You stupid, impulsive girl.’

“I’m happy that yours is bigger,” you winked.

Whatever blood Caleb had left rushed to his cock, leaving him dizzy as his bulge ached, begging him to do something about this.

Watching you suck on the toy, Caleb didn’t even want to think of where you learned to do those things with your tongue. He needed to focus on the fact that you wanted to do those things to him.

You were so wet that he could see the outline of your lips. He shifted while trying to hide his eagerness, so close to seeing the very thing that he’d been fantasizing about for years. You pulled your panties aside to give him a peek of that sweet center before you rubbed the toy’s head against your clit.

The fact that you were wearing his old DAA shirt made everything hotter. It served as a point that you were his like he was yours. He palmed himself through his sweats to keep himself sane.

There wasn’t any hesitation as you turned back to your fantasy from last night, sliding in half the length without issue. The sounds were lewd but your expressions were worse. When you reached the base, there was that embarrassing pap, pap, pap as you fucked yourself.

“You like it rough,” Caleb said, not so much a question as it was an observation, his eyes never leaving your pussy.

“I think…” You tried to focus, but god, it felt so good to have something inside you. “I think I’d like whatever you’d do.”

There was a moment of silence, and you dared to take a peek at Caleb. He had that look in his eyes again, the one where he looked like a dog that wanted to beg for a treat but felt guilty for wanting it in the first place. Feeling your stare, his eyes met yours, and you gave him a slight smile. 

“Can I…?” He wiggled his fingers.

“Yeah.”

Using his Evol, Caleb fucked you with the toy, his pace frustrating and difficult to predict. One minute he was fucking you slow and shallow, only giving you half of the toy’s length. The next, he was pulling it out completely, only to give it to you in fast thrusts. You’d squeak when he'd hit a certain spot, making him tap it again and again.

Using your newly freed hands, they crept up your shirt to play with your tits, one hand groping while the other tugged at your nipple.

Caleb mumbled nonsense, more to himself than to you, about how pretty you looked with your legs spread like this. “And you’re thinking of me,” he groaned, getting a little rough with his Evol.

“The only way I’d look perfect is if I was sitting pretty with your cock inside me, Caleb.”

He had to focus on not nutting then and there, leaving you empty as he pulled out the toy. 

“Are you sure…?”

No, the line was already crossed. You couldn’t go back. You didn’t want to go back to what you were before.

Crawling back to him, you laid your full weight on his heaving chest, pressing your hand against his heart. It thrummed against your touch, pounding wildly as if it belonged in your hand instead of his chest.

His fingers tilted your chin up and you looked at him once more. The baby fat on his cheeks had melted away years ago, changing his soft boyish looks with time. Sweat clung to his bangs, and roughly, he pushed them back, giving him a mature look that highlighted his jaw. How many years had he looked like that? It was as if you were looking at him for the first time, or maybe this was something you’d always known but kept hidden–Caleb was a man.

Your lips finally met his, pushed together by years of repression, pressing harder and harder against each other until one of you opened up, exchanging tongues and breath between you. Those hands of his that always hesitated, white-knuckled and fisted, finally surrendered, grabbing and kneading all that they could. You wanted to melt into their touch, but for now, you let them undress you.

Naked, you shared each other’s heat.

It wasn’t enough to show him that you were certain. You swooped in for another kiss, more innocent and adoring than the previous one. Your fingers lingered on his jaw, feeling his pulse just beneath it.

“I’ve always been sure when it comes to you,” you told him.

If there was one thing either of you knew of this world, it was that every decision that led you to the other was the right one. It was something that you both forgot with time as fear and consequence kept each other at bay. 

Kissing him from his eyelids to his nose, you gave him a quick peck on the lips before sending your trail down. His hands held your hair as you finally reached your desire. As much as you wanted to give it all of your attention, you knew that Caleb was past his breaking point, but still you paused enough to admire it.

Spitting on his cock, you mixed it with his precum, using your palm to rub it from the head and down his shaft, your wrist twisting with the upward curve of his length. 

Satisfied, you positioned yourself over him.

“You wanna be on top?” Caleb asked incredulously.

He didn’t know where to look–your face, your tits, or pretty little cunt that was hovering right above his cock.

“Yeah, and?”

It was hard for him to fight the urge to baby you as he watched you struggle to take him. The dildo prepped you enough to get him half-way in, but now you were stuck. Your pride refused to ask him for help.

“Take it slow,” he told you, though there wasn’t any patience in his voice.

You let out a satisfied noise as your hips dropped down further. “But I want you.”

Between your stubbornness and the hot feel of your center wrapped around him, Caleb did his best to focus, his patience paying off as you sat on his lap, hilted and full. You sat there, breathing slowly as your body accommodated his size. He could feel every breath and every squeeze.

“You good?”

“Yeah, too good.”

His hands crept to your hips. “Should I help you?”

“Caleb, you don’t have to use your Evol, I can–” you whined before he cut you off.

“Who said I was gonna use my Evol?

His hips rose up to shallowly fuck you, moving slowly so you’d get used to him. Unlike the toy, it was easy to follow his rhythm, and you relaxed enough to lay down and kiss him.

Your wildest fantasies couldn’t compare to what he was actually doing to you. His fingers tangled in your hair as you kissed his neck, vibrating against the low reverb of his moaning, sprinkled with the occasional ‘fuck, you’re too good to me’ and your name.

Used to his size, you bounced on his lap, Caleb’s eyes never leaving the part of you that was connected. “Look at you, taking all this cock.”

“I think you’ve ruined everyone else for me,” you admitted between sighs, each bounce inching you towards your orgasm. “All I want is you.”

He grunted, rolling into your hips deep. It wasn’t enough. He needed a different position. “Say it again,” he begged..

“All I want is you, Caleb.”

Looking at you with darkened eyes, he flipped you over to reposition himself on top of you, the bed squeaking from the force.

His breath was hot at your throat as he left open-mouth kisses across its column. In the sunlight, you could see the dark marks you left on his skin. A passing thought wondered if he’d be able to hide it with his uniform’s collar.

A feeling of intrusion punched you from your thoughts, forcing you to gasp. It pushed again. Then again. And again. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around Caleb, but it only made things worse. There was a fullness you couldn’t reach with the other position

“Too rough?” He asked, stopping but keeping himself sheathed between your legs. His jeweled eyes glittered in the sunlight, its rays highlighting his dark brown hair with gold. He looked like an angel, and you were certain you died, seeing stars and darkness with your growing release.

You shook your head, giving him a quick peck for reassurance. “Not rough enough,” you told him.

Getting the hint, he pushed one leg back and hauled it over his shoulder, giving you a testy drive. Your response was immediate–nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons he’d have to inspect in the mirror later. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as he continued his work, going faster and deeper as you begged for more. At least there was familiarity in that; whatever you wanted, Caleb would give you. His balls slapped heavy against your cheeks, the lewd noise competing with the wetness of your cunt.

You were close–Caleb could feel it. Your pretty little pussy squeezed him harder with each stroke, afraid that he’d leave it empty. He could see it in your face too. Your lips trembled worse than your legs, voice shaking as you begged him not to stop, to keep hitting right there.

His breath grew ragged and his control was slipping, body trying to chase its own high before sending you off on yours. He took a sharp inhale. Even though you said he ruined everyone else for you, Caleb would make sure that there was no one else, that when you wanted to cum, you’d come to him first and use him. 

Slotting his hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he found your swollen clit, giving it a light pinch that had you whining. It was followed by a series of ‘oh, oh, oh’s and chanting his name as he rubbed circles on it and continued to fuck you.

Your release was immediate, walls tight despite the tension leaving the rest of your body. Your brows knit together, then relaxed twice before you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed from Caleb telling you that you’d looked so pretty cumming for him.

“Is it…” He groaned, “is it okay if I fuck you through it?”

“Please.” You could hardly catch your breath, feeling yourself going into another orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. So good to me. I want you to cum again, honey. Just for me. Just for me.” He punctuated each sentence with a kiss, his strokes growing sloppy until he gave up all control.

All you remembered after was getting pulled into Caleb’s chest, his hand gently stroking your hair.

–

God, he was spent, his body taking a while to recover despite his fitness. You laid beside him, snoring softly, one arm lazily draped over his chest, your face buried in his side. 

What would he say when you woke up? He didn’t want to make it a big deal but he knew that you both needed to talk after. He chewed on his lip, fighting with the part of himself that desperately wanted to cling to you and the part that was afraid of losing you. Should he take it back or act like it was nothing? Should he wait, as he often did, patiently going by your cues?

When he was certain you were in a deep sleep, he left, deciding on his answer.

–

You woke up to an empty bed, the sky darker compared to earlier. Where was Caleb? Your heart pounded as you patted the part of the bed where he should have been. It was cold. He must have left a while ago. Through the door, you heard the soft thrumming of the washer and dryer running.

It grew louder and clearer, making you look up.

Caleb stood at the foot of your bed with a basket of neatly folded laundry in his arms.

Seeing him calmed you though your heart still raced. Though he’s seen all of you, you still used the comforter to cover your chest.

“I thought you left me behind,” you admitted sullenly, unable to look at him.

Setting the basket down, he sat in the space where he should have been sleeping. He grabbed your chin so that you’d look at him.

“Do I have to remind you? I’m Caleb, and I’ll always be by your side.”

“And you’ll always love me?”

“Will you always love me?” He countered.

“Always.”

“Always,” he reaffirmed with a kiss.

The comforter that covered you slid down as you broke the kiss, but this time you left yourself exposed, less shy around Caleb compared to before.

“Cold?” He asked, looking at your tits.

Scandalized, you crossed your arms so he’d stop staring at your nipples. That little…!

He held his hands up in surrender. “What? I was just asking because I did our laundry.”

“You probably just used it as an excuse to go through my panties,” you huffed, still annoyed.

“What're you…?" A blush crept up his face to his ears as he stammered, trying to play off getting caught. "How did you…?”

You smiled coyly, pleased with his embarrassment. “C’mon Caleb. Lace g-strings aren’t comfortable at all. You seriously thought I wore them all the time?”

Torn between backpedalling and telling the truth, he ended up choosing the latter. “Well, yeah. I thought with you going off to college, and…”

“You’re such a dummy,” you laughed before pulling him into bed with you.

A/N: I just started playing LaDS a few weeks ago, and ever since Caleb was introduced as an NPC, I've wanted him. I'm freaking obsessed with him and his yearning and his flirty lil lines.

Below is a scene that got cut from the original. It seems like something he would say though lol.

–

“Is it ok that I…?” His eyes trailed downward towards your legs.

“Yeah,” you told him, “I’ve got the implant.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Oh. Me too.”

Which earned him a slap on the shoulder. “That’s not funny, Caleb.”

Return to

Main M.list

LaDS M.list

[secretidentie]

When Jason starts building his crime lord career, people start inexplicably comparing him to Matches Malone. They have the same mannerisms, the same fighting styles and a similar build. Some rogues even have theories that they're the same guy.

So when ever Matches is mentioned, red hood mutters "fuck that guy" under his breath and since Bruce puts his whole batussy into his personas, he's starts reciprocating that energy. All the rogues are scrambling to find out what happened to cause this beef. The entire Gotham underground now has to pick a side between one of their own who they've worked with and gotten to know over the years versus the new up and coming crime lord that's offering jobs and improving their lives. While Jason is wondering what he can do to stop being compared to Bruce, Bruce is trying to be a supportive parent (which means making sure the rogues don't turn on J) while protecting his persona he's been curating for years.

[softaestluv]

obsessed with the idea of onlyfans model! reader x Simon

Maybe you’re one of the biggest creators on the platform and you’re very well known after doing it for a few years. Except, you only do solo content, despite your peers constantly asking to collab or getting requests from fans to see you getting fucked.

Then, one day you post a video showing off some new panties and Simon’s tattooed and scarred hand just appears, squeezing the meat of your ass, claiming and possessive. A subtle message he’s sending to your audience as he spreads your cheeks apart, sliding your panties to the side and shows off your pretty pussy dripping with his cum.

[prlssprfctn]

Bruce and Jason, who accidentally fix their relationship in a relative secret and distance from the rest of the family (Alfred excluded, of course), and decide to keep this fact as a secret from the rest of the family, just for fun. Because, let's be honest, Bruce is no less a brat than Jason is, he is just better at hiding it the older he gets.

Dick, sighing: Listen, I am about to invite Jason to this family dinner. And I don't care if you want it or not! And if you try to sabotage this day by your moral code lectures, I'll have a word with you! Bruce, indifferent, while messaging Jason at the same time: Mhm.

(On the other part of Manor) Tim: Honestly, I am not giving you a choice here. You will come to this dinner, Jason. Just... just ignore Bruce, alright? Jason, dramatically huffing, while liking Bruce's messages: Yeah, yeah, WHATEVER! Alfred: ...My circus. My monkey. I shall stay collected, nevertheless.

Damian: Father had been disappearing after patrols lately. I can't track him... What do we think is going on? Is he found himself a new child he plans to adopt soon? We can't get another sibling. Tim: Relax. He is probably into a new woman. Or a man. Whatever. Dick, worried: Guys, what if it is another villain or rogue? Jason, with whom Bruce spends time after patrol by munching fast food on the skirts of town: ...Lol Damian: That's not funny, Todd. Barbara, who knows everything: ...It is funny. Dick: Babs!

Tim: You know, Jason had been surprisingly chill lately. I knew he was doing better, but he stopped avoiding Manor that much. Bruce, arching his eyebrows: Alright? Tim: Do you think... maybe you two can finally talk? And fix your mess? Bruce, who just came to the cave after reading session with Jason, hiding his smile behind a sad face: I don't know, chump. It is complicated.

Dick, calling Jason randomly: Urgh, B is such a bitch! Jason, gasping: Right? Tell me about it! Bruce, sighing from his side of the couch as Jason puts The Crown show on his television: ...

[anna-scribbles]

old doodles from the archives 🫶

[bi-writes]

the new baby you take care of is the cutest baby you've ever met. (a lil dubcon, baby trapping, 18+)

he has a big head with a tuff of little blond waves, and he has the brightest brown eyes in the entire world. he smiles at every face you make at him, and he takes a bottle like a champ and will nap for hours as long as you're quiet.

his father has a strict schedule set for him. when you met that big man for the very first time, you were speechless. your teeth had clacked together with how fast you tried to close your gawking mouth, but it was impossible not to with how much he towered over you, nearly touching the top of the doorway.

he is methodical, down to every minute. tacked onto the fridge, he had shown you his son's current schedule, which he emphasized with a dead glare must be followed to a T.

two feedings in the morning followed by a nap. another feeding. a longer nap. another feeding. another nap. all separated in increments of 45 minutes, with instructions on how to use the bottle warmer and how to measure the formula.

his son does not cry. his father had told you, if he cries, y'r doin' somethin' wrong. and he was right. the baby only cried when he was hungry, and he would fall into a dead sleep as soon as you gave him a bottle.

it's odd, to take care of someone else's baby. especially this man's. there's no woman in the house, as far as you can tell. the whole house is decorated very minimally, cozy and in shades of warm greens and cool blues and browns. there are no heeled boots by the door or pretty fur coats, and whenever you pass by his bedroom, only one side of his bed ever looks lived-in. there are no pictures on the walls, no makeup in the bathroom drawers, and no pads or tampons under the sink.

just a big, unfeeling man and his big, adorable baby.

but you think that your actions to get this big, unfeeling man to like you are starting to have the wrong kind of implications.

it starts with dinner. you start to make it, using the ingredients from his fridge to make stews and buttery mashed potatoes and roasted veggies. the image of you stirring a pot with his baby on your hip has not left him, and whenever you don't have some kind of meal cooking when he gets home, you answer to someone curt, annoyed, and cold, even to the touch.

then it's the decorating. you thought his couch was a little bare, so now there's a few throw blankets laying across the back of it. there's a vase of pretty tulips on the coffee table. you're growing herbs on the windowsill, little pots of thyme and rosemary and basil. you leave house shoes by the door now, and even when you're not there, he sees those fuzzy pink slippers in the foyer, and he can't help the way he chubs up just seeing them when you're not around.

you start to bring some extra changes of clothes. after the baby spit up on you more than once in a day, you bring a duffel bag with you once a week with extra changes of clothes. he snarls when he sees your clothes in one of his drawers; pretty black panties and matching bras, all laid out under your lounge wear right next to his fucking socks.

the toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. the multi-colored chapsticks in the drawers. tampons and pads organized in the cabinet, your moisturizer next to his shaving cream. he smacks his fist against the wall when he sees the finished package of your birth control in the trash because wot the fuck are y'doing taking those things when y'know i want another--

he can see you in the baby monitor. swaying in the dark of his son's room, the baby's head on your chest as you rock him softly. you're singing a little, a gentle hum to soothe him enough that his eyes start closing. he groans a little when he sees your eyes shut as you kiss his son on the forehead, cooing at him as you pat his little back and tell him to have sweet dreams.

you're making brownies when he comes home that night. his son is seated in his high chair, clapping his hands, and you're smiling at him and cooing in that baby voice you do as you take the warm brownies out of the oven. when you see him emerge from the darkness of his living room, you smile at him, taking off the oven mitts.

"hi, simon," you say softly, and his pupils dilate when you slip a hand over his son's head to soothe him. "i made some dessert, hope that's okay. thought you might wanna try my new recipe."

simon comes into the kitchen as you take his baby out of his high chair. you hoist him up against your hip, and when simon comes closer, you giggle as tilts his head to the side and stares down at you both. you tilt your head back a little, blinking up at him, and the flutter of your lashes is enough to have him rock hard in his cargos as his hands curl into frustrated fists at his sides.

"i'm gonna put him down for bed, it's a little late," you tell him. you hoist his son up a little higher on your hip, picking up his little chubby arm and waving up at simon. "say goodnight, daddy."

simon grins under his mask at the soft lilt of your voice. you try not to squeak when one of his big hands slides around your waist to hold you at your back, and he bends down to kiss his son's forehead through his mask.

"goodnight, my boy."

you try not to linger on the idea that he may have grabbed your ass as you walked away. no, his arms are just so long, they grazed you while you passed by him.

the baby always goes down nice and easy. one bottle later, with a full stomach, he's rubbing his little eyes and fussing in your arms as he tries to fall asleep. he's a mover, simon's little one--always grasping around with his arms and flopping onto his side in the bed. oftentimes, after a nap, he's facing the opposite direction and on the other end of the crib when you come to get him.

so you shouldn't be surprised when as he's falling asleep, his little grubby hands reach for you and pull.

your eyes widen when you hear the pop of buttons. you look down, gasping, when you see his son has grabbed onto the front of your blouse and pulled the first few buttons out. they clatter onto the floor in a mess, and you're not able to see where they go with it so dark in his room.

"oh, god!"

you try to be gentle as you set the baby down in his crib. he immediately sticks his thumb in his mouth with his head lolling to the side, and you try to pick up anything you step on as you hurry out of the room, trying to hold your shirt together.

it's useless. you're standing there in the hallway, hastily shutting the baby's room closed, tits out at eight in the evening.

"tha' why he so good ta ya, mama?"

your eyes bug out of your head when you see simon there. he's standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes are focused on your poor open blouse. the bra you're wearing leaves nothing to the imagination--just mesh with underwire, and when simon comes closer, there's virtually nothing separating you when he reaches up with that gloved hand and cups one breast, thumb smoothing over your nipple before he tugs on it gently.

"wha--simon--"

"thinks y'r his mum, pretty tits out like tha'," simon hisses. "'f ya wanted it so bad, why didn't ya just say?"

"simon--"

he tsks, using both hands this time to grip your blouse by the edges and tug it down your arms. it falls around your elbows, and he takes the straps of your bra with it, until it's pooled around your waist and your tits fall free.

"fuckin' hell," he breathes, and your lips part gently as he hikes up his mask and spits on your nipples before sucking them into his mouth. "mmmph..."

you arch your back as he rips the rest of the buttons off with one smooth tug. your blouse falls, and your bra follows it, until you're in nothing but your skirt, backing up into the darkness of his bedroom as he kicks the door shut. you scramble to get him back on top of you when your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you're laying down--grabbing around his shoulders as you try to guide his mouth back to your breasts where he can suckle on them with that filthy mouth of his.

"knew it--" he rasps. "fuck, i knew it--"

your eyes squeeze shut when he ruts his hips against yours. your panties are ruined, slick wet and digging uncomfortably into your folds, but the scratch of simon's jeans have your back bowing at a hard angle, your fingers sliding between your bodies as you reach for his zipper. you gasp when you feel him under your hand, straining against denim, the girth of him tying your stomach in hard knots as you think about what it'll take to get you open enough for him to slip in.

"keepin' me fat," simon murmurs. "holdin' my baby like tha', wot did ya think was goin' ta happen, eh?"

"h-huh?"

"'m gonna make you fat, too, swee'eart," he says, smoothing his hand over your tummy. "saw those little pills in y'r bag. it won't take today, but we'll try again tomorrow, yeah?"

you're drooling as he fucks you. your hips are hiked up, your skirt flipped up as his thighs smack against your ass. you're not privy to the way the fat of you shakes every time he's buried to the hilt, but simon appreciates it, tongue out as he watches you push back against him to try and get yourself filled quicker. he traces your spine with his fingers, leaning over you as he watches your fingers dig into his dark sheets and grip for dear life as he gives it to you fast and deep. it's a mess of wet between you, and you know the bed underneath you will be soaked by the time he's done with you, but you can't think about that when the very thing you've been wanting since the day you met him is so close, so within reach.

you haven't taken a single one of those pills since the first week you met that fat, beautiful baby. maybe simon didn't take too close a look at the dated little pills in your bag and in the bin, the little calendar you used to mark rotting away in a forgotten pocket, gathering dust.

when simon comes, your mouth is filled with saliva, and you gurgle between barely-lucid giggles as your hips sink into the mattress. he's saying something, but you don't hear it. instead you reach down with your fingers and stuff them inside, trying to gather as much of his cum and keep it. when simon tries to cum in your mouth later, you nearly bite his dick off.

how dare he try and waste it?

[soapcloth]

Catching Soap taking pics of you in an airport terminal...

You try to ignore it. Maybe he was taking a picture of the airport in general, maybe it was a selfie- either way, you’re not about to confront a man that looks like bootcamp and protein powder incarnate in the case that he is.

Once boarded, you find yourself beside a kind-looking older woman that lets you have the window seat, the prior incident readily forgotten as you settle in. A flight attendant crouches beside her, but you pay it no mind, too busy prepping your in-flight comforts to watch on while the woman gathers her belongings and vacates the seat.

You lean back, waiting for take-off.

"-here you are, Sergeant- once again, we're deeply sorry about the seating mix-up with your partner- a-and thank you for your service, we hope you'll continue to fly with us."

That snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you find the man from earlier staring down at you with a pleased grin. After a beat, his head swings back around to the flight attendant.

"Dinnae worry 'bout tha'- just glad it got sorted."

He tosses his carry-on overhead, arms bulging with the movement before he plops himself down into the seat beside you, an exasperated grunt passing his lips. He lifts the seperating arm rest, thick legs spreading out so your thighs touch.

"-um?"

He clicks his tongue and jerks his knee into yours. "Saw ye' looking at me in the terminal, would be a shame t'leave ye' be, aye?"

[whisperofwonder]

Kuroo Tetsurou knows how to tie a tie. He wore one every day of high school, after all. It's not a difficult skill to master. Truthfully, he could probably do it in his sleep.

But, all those years ago, you offered so sweetly. It wasn't hard for him to say, sheepishly, "Sure. I'm not too good with these things."

Ever since, it's one of the most cherished parts of his morning routine. He watches as you hold up random ties from his collection, eying them thoughtfully before making your selection. You stand so close to him, your gentle fingers turning up his collar and looping the tie around his neck. He can smell your shampoo, feel the warmth of your skin. Your fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his neck as you make the knot, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him each time.

"There," You always say as you smooth his collar down, "Perfect." You give the knot one final tug, and it's a familiar signal. He closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your lips as you finally let go of the tie.

"Thanks, babe," He always murmurs against your lips before he pulls away.

You always grin. "Have a good day, today."

He thinks he's done well, all these years, hiding the truth from you. His one harmless fib.

It's his cousin's wedding. He's surprised to learn how many of the groomsmen really don't know how to tie a tie. He's going around the room, tying one tie after another, when he hears a familiar voice just inside the door. Freezing halfway though the final one, he slowly turns, caught in the act. You're crossing the room before he can even begin to feel foolish.

"I always knew, you know," You say simply, a teasing smile making your eyes dance. You tug the tie draped loosely around his own neck, the one he'd been saving for last. "Need a little help with that?"

As you carefully tie the tie for him, then tug him down for a sweet kiss, he thinks he might be falling in love with you all over again.

(part 2)

[hexhomos]

dress me in midnight (hold me tight)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC My Brother in the Mirror

Damian doesn't like mirrors.

He never mentioned the fact to other members of the family, but they are detectives and vigilantes, it's their job to be observant. Which, after so many years, becomes a habit.

Damian doesn't actively avoid the mirrors - he has a mirror in his bathroom, he didn't express any discomfort over going into a mirror labyrinth at some carnival they've attended (he expressed disgust over taking part in something so stupid, in his words, but that's a whole another story), and he actually spent a few minutes in front of the funhouse mirrors when no one was looking, watching his own reflection distort in various ways. He also has no problems with his self-image - he doesn't mind pictures of him taken at any time (unless it's Tim, but that's, again, a whole another story), he's drawn a few self-portraits that were rather accurate and he liked them.

He just doesn't like mirrors. For some reason.

His family, both close and extended, never questioned it. They did some gentle research to see if the dislike was caused by some kind of problem Damian was experiencing without telling anyone, but when they found no proof of that, they've just decided it was some quirk of his. Everyone has quirks. Dick doesn't like eating cereal like a normal person, Tim despises sleep, Steph is at war with any color other than purple.

That is, until one day, Tim witnesses Damian sitting in front of a mirror.

He is not even aware of it - the whole family is having a game night, and through some arguments and rearrangements on the couch, Damian ends up sitting on the left side of it, where his back is turned to one of the three mirrors in the room. Tim, who's lost the last round, is slumping in an armchair nearby, pointedly looking away from the screen where Damian and Jason are enthusiastically competing over the first place in Mario Cart. Of course, Tim can't just not watch it since he needs to know their strategies. But turning back around would also be admitting defeat.

The solution? Easy, watch the screen through the mirror.

Which is when he notices it.

Damian in the mirror doesn't act the same as Damian in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the real Damian moving around, shoving Jason with his elbow, fully concentrated on the game, and yelling something. Damian-in-the-mirror is sitting unnaturally still, the back of his head over the couch unmoving.

Tim forgets all about the game when Damian's reflection starts to turn around. Slowly and carefully, eerie in the way the horror movies are, the boy in the mirror turns his head around like an owl, his neck twisting inhumanely.

His eyes are green. Green like the toxic waste, like Jason's madness, like acid in cartoons, like the Waters of Lazarus.

Damian in the mirror smiles, his unblinking, gliwing eyes fixed on Tim, and his teeth are sharp and pointy, and there are too many of them, humans can't smile this wide.

"-im? Tim!" A hand nudges him in the shoulder, and Tim looks away from the mirror, finding Dick standing over him. The noise of the game room returns all at once, and, wait, when did it become quiet for Tim?.. He must have a strange expression on his face because Dick's easy smile falls slightly, and he frowns, "Is everything okay?"

Tim looks back to the mirror, but the green-eyed boy in the mirror is gone, and the mirror only reflects Damian as he is: sitting on the couch.

"Yeah," Tim shakes his head and forces a smile on his lips, "I just zoned out."

"Okay," Dick pats him on the shoulder and gives him the controller, "It's your turn now."

Tim takes the controller and turns around, facing the screen. Tim throws a quick glance at Damian, who had slid down on the couch so his head would not be in the reflection anymore. Tim sees the cold, warning hint to his eye, a clear do not speak of it message.

Tim doesn't like that the mirror is now behind him.

[restwellsoon]

Know Me Too Well

Minors and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Pairing: Caleb x F!Reader

Summary: It’s only natural that you tell Caleb everything. You’re best friends after all. So it’s no surprise that you come to him for advice about your college crush. What is surprising is that you ask him for a personal request.

/ “So let me set the scene,” you started, ready to get on with your request. “We’re at a party after our exams. We’ve had a few drinks.”

“A few drinks?” Caleb scoffed. “You can’t give proper consent if you’ve had a few drinks.”

You shot him a look, knowing all of the college parties he’d gone to and all of the bar hopping he’d done since joining the DAA. “What are you? My guardian?” You snapped, poking an index finger into his chest.

“Yeah, your guardian angel. Anyway–go on.”

“We’ve had a few drinks but are both clear-minded enough to give enthusiastic consent. I take us to a more secluded spot to talk one-on-one, like a bedroom or an empty corner. And then… and then I kiss you.”

Warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, smut, oral (F! receiving), multiple orgasms, unsafe sex, creampie, jealousy, possessive sex, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘pipsqueak’, background mentions of fake dating and past sexual experiences

Caleb’s blood pressure rose with each tick of the clock and with every word you said. As the excitement of staying at his apartment in Skyhaven for the weekend wore off, you found yourself opening up about your hopes and worries in university. Your biggest concern? Hooking up with some guy you met in your Advanced Hunters course.

The mattress squeaked under your weight as you inched closer to Caleb on his bed, hugging a pillow as you patiently waited for his answer. He flipped through the channels on the TV, lazily lifting the bottom of his shirt to scratch his stomach. Your eyes lingered where his hand laid, just past his hip and half-dug into his sweats to keep his fingertips warm.

“Is it really a good idea to get involved with someone when you’re so close to graduating?” He finally asked, his eyes drifting from the screen to yours.

His question drowned out the sound of whatever reality TV show he put on as embarrassment crept up your neck. Caleb was right.

But still, you argued back anyway not wanting to admit that just yet. “It’s not like it’s anything serious,” you told him. “It’s just a crush.”

Surprised by your nonchalant attitude, Caleb turned on his side to look at you, bending his arm so his hand cradled his face. His free hand poked your knee before settling there as he spoke. “Isn’t it serious if you’re bringing him up to me?”

The afternoon sun peaked brightly through the blinds, and you used it as an excuse to look away from him. It was difficult to ignore him completely though as he squiggled random shapes onto your skin. 

“Well, there’s another reason why…” You gave the pillow a squeeze for reassurance. “It’s been a while since I… and well–I uh, was wondering if you could… helpmepracticeprettyplease?”

Getting what you were hinting at, his voice grew sharp. “Why aren’t you asking your little gal pals for advice?”

Turning the pillow sideways across your lap, it kept his hand steady on your knee. His fingers twitched, a tell of his annoyance, as they scraped the edge of your skirt hem.

“Well, yeah, I did, but you’re the one who always tells me to come to you first if I need help.” You knew you were being bratty, but you didn’t care, knowing that this was one of the quickest ways to get whatever you wanted. “If you don’t wanna show me, then you could just say no!”

He pursed his lips, half-charmed and half-annoyed by your antics. You both knew that he couldn’t resist giving into your wants. But still, the thought of some dweeb touching you pissed him off. But he had a few tricks for turning the situation in his favor.

Hiding his eagerness with reluctance, he answered. “Fine, we can practice together.”

You gave him an incredulous ‘What?!’ pulling back from his touch so you could throw the pillow at his face, but Caleb used his Evol and set it down beside him.

“What?” He taunted. “Changed your mind?”

“No!” You hurriedly exclaimed trying to think of some dumb excuse. “I just thought that you’d protest a bit more.”

It was already a given that your request would irk him. You thought of all the ways that Caleb would try to hide how pissed off he was–from the mildest reaction of saying no without any elaboration to something more extreme like demanding to know everything about your crush in question. In every scenario, there would be some push and pull, some fight that you mentally prepared yourself for. It almost felt anti-climatic to have him readily agree. 

He grinned, using his strength to pull you on top of him. You shivered as you made contact with an exposed bit of skin, his abs flexing against your center, the only thing separating you was some flimsy cloth. “Good. I’m telling you though, this is gonna be way more intense than–”

Before Caleb could mention the last time you practiced this with each other, you cut him off.

“It was only intense because we practically spent the year apart,” you lied, tucking some hair behind your ear and averting your gaze. You were still flustered about it even though it’d been a while since it happened.

Nodding, Caleb gave you a cocky and half-convinced smile. “Sure, pipsqueak, if that’s what you wanna say.”

“So let me set the scene,” you started, ready to get on with your request. “We’re at a party after our exams. We’ve had a few drinks.”

“A few drinks?” Caleb scoffed. “You can’t give proper consent if you’ve had a few drinks.”

You shot him a look, knowing all of the college parties he’d gone to and all of the bar hopping he’d done since joining the DAA. “What are you? My guardian?” You snapped, poking an index finger into his chest.

“Yeah, your guardian angel. Anyway–go on.”

“We’ve had a few drinks but are both clear-minded enough to give enthusiastic consent. I take us to a more secluded spot to talk one-on-one, like a bedroom or an empty corner. And then… and then I kiss you.”

As you leaned down and closed your eyes, Caleb’s laughter prompted them to open quickly. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to figure out why he was laughing.

“I doubt any guy would refuse ya pip-squeak, but you gotta be smoother than that.”

Your tongue clicked. “See! This is what I’m talking about. The girls said that being bold would be enough. But–well, what do you think, Caleb?”

Propping himself up, he grabbed your hips, making sure you wouldn’t fall. Your skirt hiked up, the result of Caleb’s shifting and your own. His hands were just as big as you remembered them, though rougher from what you could recall. Caleb did say that he switched up his gym routine. His calloused palms were probably from that. You swallowed, waiting for his answer but found him looking into your eyes.

His fingers tapped on your side, giving his home some command that you couldn’t see. The TV buzzed off as music filled the room. It was loud enough to drown out any awkwardness as you continued to stare at each other.

He was looking at you with those eyes again, the violet melting into something soft–like the sunset before the night came in or maybe the sky as the sun rose. Even though this was practice, the thought of him looking at someone else this way made you sick. 

“Caleb, what’re you…?” You asked softly, hands planted gently on his stomach as you felt his even breath, slow beneath your touch. You wanted to do something–lean into his chest, stir in your seat, run your hands through his hair, anything–but you were afraid of ruining whatever spell you both were under. What if you both woke up?

Finally his eyes broke away, crinkling into a twilight sky as he smiled. “Making you fall for me.”

Your lips fell into a muted ‘oh’ into his chest. Caleb swore the next time you said it, it wouldn’t be as quiet.

Following the rhythm of the song, Caleb traced its lyrics into your skin, his nails lulling your senses until you found yourself drifting towards him. You couldn’t blame his Evol either. You’d always been drawn to Caleb in some way, and as you grew older, it was easier to give up on finding reasons why and accepting whatever this was.

His hand left your side to trace the soft curve of your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lip to smear your balm in a straight line down your chin, stopping just short of your shirt’s neckline. Caleb always called your name so sweetly, and this instance wasn’t any different. “You have to take control of the situation if you wanna get what you want.”

Dark lashes fluttered, lifting from their gaze on your neck back up to your eyes. You were caught in his stare, a trap you willingly walked into. “So what do you want?”

Biting your lip, you wondered if it was okay to tell the truth. He tilted his chin up expectantly. “Caleb, I wanna kiss you.”

Instead of that easy and reassuring smile he often gave you, this look was darker, backed by self-satisfaction and want.

“Then kiss me.”

Even if your breath caught in your throat, Caleb knew how to draw it back out, breathing life into you then taking it as your vision went from darkness to stars while you kissed. You felt heavy, dragged down into his orbit as you pressed your lips together, before one tongue pried the other’s mouth open, running along teeth before finding what it wanted.

Hands found their way onto Caleb’s chest, his neck, his hair as your bodies pushed into each other, slow friction heightened by the clothes that laid in your way. He had difficulty choosing between your tits or your ass, his hand finding a halfway point on the small of your back. Finally, he decided on your ass, large hands cupping your perfect flesh in his palms. Using his grip, he controlled the way you grinded against him. He was rougher, hips meeting yours as he squeezed. His cock was stiff in his sweatpants, and you used his length as a guide for your movement. He whimpered into your mouth.

Soon enough, your clothes proved to be an obstacle to your desires. The kiss was temporarily broken as you pulled off your shirts, Caleb using his Evol to help slide off your skirt and his sweats. With a familiar hand, he unhooked your bra, tossing it on the floor with everything else.

With hungry eyes, he watched your nipples pebble from the cool air, biting at his lip. He wanted a taste.

Meeting his eyes would have proven too much. Instead you dragged your hand languidly from his shoulder down his chest, fingers dancing across his abs. They followed the rippled muscles before tracing the edge of his boxers.

Before you could get any further, he swallowed hard, catching your hand to pull you back to him. “What?” You asked coyly. “Caleb, you’ve always known how much I liked your body…”

“You’re such a tease,” he mumbled into your ear. Despite his submission, his actions were bold, his index finger inching forward, tracing the damp slit of your panties. “What were you planning to do next?”

You fumbled over your words as Caleb continued with that sliding motion. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you tried to think straight. “Suck your dick,” you finally decided.

���Suck my dick or your crush’s?” He stopped his touch as he asked his question, the abruptness reminding you of your original request. He only gave you a smirk in return.

“Yours,” you huffed, a shiver going down your spine as you felt him apply pressure to your throbbing center. “Obviously.”

He clicked his tongue. “I thought I was helping you practice for your little crush. But now you’re thinking of blowing me?”

Running your fingers through his hair, you were certain that Caleb could feel the sudden heat on his neck as your cheeks flushed. Hopefully that would distract him. “I…” You trailed on lamely. 

He gave your ass a firm smack to get you out of your thoughts. “If he’s a man, he better go down on you first.” When you cocked your head at his comment, he continued, “What, pip-squeak? Don’t tell me you forgot how that feels…”

Of course you didn’t. How could you? You came to his room after the first few times you had sex, shyly asking if it was supposed to hurt. Caleb’s first reaction was concern, demanding to know who did that to you. Then it melted into disgust towards that fucker as he scoffed and mumbled something about the guy not deserving you if he couldn’t show his appreciation first. 

“No one’s ever licked your pussy?” The directness of his question embarrassed you further as you buried yourself in the covers, the top of your head shaking a sheepish ‘no.’

His chin rested on the top of your head, and he didn’t dare to take away the cover that blanketed your shame. His arms drew you close. “Can I show you then?” He whispered into your hair. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

The heat of his breath, his tongue on your clit, the kisses he sprinkled across your thighs–it was a memory you’d never forgotten, something you referred back to whenever you felt frustrated with your lack of imagination. 

“Um…” you mumbled into his chest, “yeah… I did.”

The laugh he let out was strained. “Oof, way to kill my ego.”

Then you felt the familiar tug of his Evol guide you into a different position, your pussy hovering over his face. “This time, I’ll make sure you won’t forget. Just hold onto the headboard if you feel like you’re losing balance.”

Your panties were a damp mess of cotton, the color changed to something darker. With how wet you were, the fabric clung to every curve, highlighting the cute little swollen nub of your clit. Weakening the force of his Evol, he hooked each arm around your thighs, drawing you to him.

“Caleb!” You yelped as you nearly sat on his face, his Evol working just enough to keep you hovering over his mouth. You reached for the headboard, gripping it in anticipation of what he’d do next.

The vibrations from his humming fanned hot air across your core, and you squirmed at the difference in temperature. His grip on your thighs didn’t let you move much though, thick biceps holding you in place. “I’m just admiring you,” he said from below, committing your cunt to memory.

Your knuckles grew white as they gripped the headboard. His tongue traced the outline of your pussy, and you swore under your breath about your panties. Everything was sensitive down there yet not–that stupid fabric was dulling your experience. You squirmed, hoping they’d get pushed aside or that Caleb would get the hint.

“Caleb, you…!” You gritted out as you heard him sniff. “Perv.” 

Your accusation didn’t phase him as he buried his nose in your cunt, sucking on the damp cloth. It twisted the fabric, and finally he used his fingers to brush it aside, dipping the tip of them into your hole as his tongue traced your clit.

It’d been so long since he had you like this, and just like last time, you were too shy, hovering over his face even though his Evol wasn’t activated.

“You can tell him to touch you like this,” he said, his voice slightly out of breath. Your sweetness dribbled onto his chin while he fingered you, tongue licking fat stripes against your tender bud. “But I’m certain it’ll just remind you of me.”

You scoffed at his cockiness until he found a special spot. Your walls squeezed around him and your whimpers weren’t restrained, a mixture of curses, moans, and his name. Caleb continued his assault until you finally gave in, riding his face until your wetness covered him.

You weren’t done with your orgasm when his Evol repositioned you again–this time on your back. “Are you–are you gonna fuck me now?” You asked through heavy breaths. He had his hands on either thigh to stop their trembling, leaving you spread so he could see the exact state he put you in.

Sucking the remnants of your desire from his fingers, your hips whined at your emptiness. Your gaze moved from his face to his cock, a dark spot on his boxers marking its neglect. “You want me to fuck you?” He asked. His hand lingered on its band. 

“Please,” you begged in your sweetest voice, shifting your hips to offer him a better view of your pretty little cunt.

“How will I know if he’s good or not if I can’t compare him to you?”

Caleb paused, a look of surprise crossing his face. He always worked so hard to uphold the image of a man in your eyes yet whenever you praised him for it, there was that strange feeling of disbelief. His chest swelled with pride even though pink flushed his cheeks. To you, Caleb was the gold standard that everyone else would be judged against. 

Letting out a low laugh, he shook his head, a hand running through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

Pleased that he gave in, you answered. “You’re gonna fuck me until I cum on your cock.”

He glanced back at his nightstand. “Fuck, I don’t have condoms.”

“So?”

“Safety first, pip-squeak. C’mon now…” He said seriously.

You tugged on his hand, dragging it towards your inner thigh. “Caleb, if it’s you, it’s fine. You’re the only one who gets to do that anyway.” 

The reminder was enough to dissipate any reservations. That pussy was his. You were his.

Impatiently, he dragged your legs towards him, resting your ankles on one broad shoulder. His hand pulled on your panties till they precariously hung off one foot. You kicked it off.

Caleb smirked at your hard swallow as he stripped, his cock bobbing against his stomach before he slotted himself between your legs. Even though you felt the sunshine from the window, goosebumps grew at every spot that Caleb’s eyes swept over, your racing heart a discordant beat against the slow, crooning background music. Finally, his gaze rested at your center, still lovely and wet–all for him.

Immediately, your hand went to your mouth to stifle your moan as Caleb teased his cock between your folds, gathering wetness across his length until it was glossy. He slapped the head against your clit, ruining your last attempts at being quiet.

“What’re you being shy for?” Caleb murmured into your ear as he eased his way into you. “I wanna hear you.” Your orgasm made you tight, but with a little push, his entire cock was sheathed. He smirked at your little yelp, no longer muffled by your hand.

Your nails scraped against his bedsheets before deciding his skin would be a better option. After, lines in varying shades of pink and red would mark his back.

“You’re so big,” you sighed, relieved that he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. “You might ruin other guys for me.”

His breath was hot in your ear as he peppered kisses along its outer shell. “Fuck,” he groaned, “you’re so hot. Does that mean you’ll come back to me and stay forever?”

“Should I?” Placing your hand on the back of his head, you pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips. Caleb moved in long teasing strokes, grabbing one leg to wrap it around his waist and pull you close. “If I give you my answer right now though, I won’t be able to hear you beg.”

Shaking his head at your cruelty, deep down he knew your answer. Maybe he’d fuck it out of you some other time.

Turning his attention to your tits, he sucked on the right, rolling and pinching the left’s nipple with his other hand. Fingers carded through his hair, you sighed at all the attention, finding it difficult to focus on everything at once–his hot, wet mouth on your tits, the way your back arched when he pinched your nipples, the fullness you felt as he fucked you. His dog tag was warm from the heat between you, marking your ownership. Your toes curled as you felt another orgasm building up.

Shifting his hips and pushing your legs back, Caleb watched as his tip struggled to stay in, inevitably slipping out, pink, angry, and incredibly wet. The slight gape it left behind made him smile.

“Caleb!” You whined. “Fuck me, or else I’ll finish the job myself.” 

Your hand slid between your legs to prove your threat. There was something mesmerizing about your manicured nails rubbing one out before him. But Caleb couldn’t get distracted. He needed to fuck you in earnest.

Starting off with just half his length, his thrusts were shallow until your whining turned to begging ‘oh’s.

You knew he loved it when you called his name. If he wanted to hear you, then he’d hear you. His name drowned out the music.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead as he focused. “You look so pretty when you rub your clit while I fuck you.”

His thrusts were harder, rougher, and you felt yourself getting closer.

“Right there,” you told him. “Fuck, Caleb, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Neither of you paid attention to the loud knocking on his shared walls. Heavy breathing and bed squeaking drowned out the next song.

“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum,” he murmured, his breathing gone ragged. “Fuck, I just want you to be mine.”

Your lips pressed hard against his, open-mouthed and sloppy as you gave him your tongue. “I always have been,” you reminded him before kissing his neck. He smiled into your hair.

His pace was fast and sloppy, and you knew that he knew that you were cumming, that he could feel how tight you were, but it didn’t make him stop. Fighting against your grip, heavy balls slapped against your cheeks as he chased his own high. His release was as warm as his heart, filling you to the brim and spilling over. The noises were lewd as he gave you all of him until he couldn’t anymore.

Falling into your arms, he rolled you both over so you both laid on your side. You were tired enough to not mind the mess.

–

Reading the name that lit up his screen, Caleb answered the call immediately. With how busy the restaurant was, he could hardly hear your voice, plugging an ear to drown out the background noise. Gideon was the first to notice as a knowing smile graced his lips. Then it was Patrick.

“Tell your girlfriend we say hi!” You heard from the other line. You had to step outside to even hear anything, the house party you were at was full of laughter and music as everyone celebrated the end of the exam period.

“Everything okay?”

You leaned against one of the foyer walls, glancing back at the party where your alleged crush was looking for you. That drink he offered you was probably warm now. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He pursed his lips at your lie, giving you a moment to explain yourself.

“Hey Cal… I know it’s a long shot, but do you think you could pick me up from this party?”

Feeling for his aircraft’s keys in his pocket, he said yes without hesitation.

“Thanks. The party was fun, but I’d rather be with you.”

He knew what that meant for your little crush–no longer interested. He laughed softly. “Miss me already, honey? Send me your location. I’ll be there soon.”

Caleb’s line erupted into loud cheers, ‘ooh’s, and kissy noises. The location you sent him wasn’t too far from Coelum Station’s landing pad.

“I’ll be waiting, honey.”

Sliding his untouched beer mug over to Gideon, Caleb grabbed his stuff, ready to leave.

“Girlfriend needs you again?”

He smiled. “You know how it is. Well, boys, enjoy your night. I’m heading out.”

A/N: I really loved the fake dating trope introduced in Verified Rumor and how manipulative MC is overall when it comes to Caleb. If Caleb wasn't so pent up and full of yearning, I wouldn't be surprised if he or MC dropped a casual ‘Yeah, we used each other for sexual practice’ and tried to justify it using the most ridiculous logic lol.

What song do ya’ll think Caleb put on/ is on his sexy playlist for Reader? I was listening to “Pretty Boy” by The Neighborhood and “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star while writing this (they have sexy apocalyptic vibes), but I just know our boy’s got Montell Fish, The Weeknd, and Artemas on there.

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[verekatt]

Inspired by @greenglowinspooks post

I love the Danny Phantom fandom's medical gore, but why not torture our DC blorbos too?

Lots of fics make Jason an underdeveloped halfa. Lots of fics make Danny basically unkillable because he's a halfa.

I'm going Maximum Angst Route on this one.

The Justice League buys the GIW's rhetoric. They hear about these dangerous energy imprints, these volatile mimicries of life that are hurting people. The GIW claim they've controlled it in the rest of America, but this one small town has a strong one that protects the rest and helps them attack. They ask for help stopping this one, assure them that once Phantom is neutralised, it'll be easy to deal with the rest. The JL agrees. The JL captures Phantom and hands him over to the GIW.

It takes months to capture most of the other ghosts, as they slowly trickle through the portal to find each other. The JL gains an appreciation for the GIW, having previously fought off entities like Skulker and Plasmius without hero help. They trust the GIW, and so when they ask to scan the heroes for any lingering radiation, they agree.

They're alarmed to find many heroes are mildly irradiated. The GIW removes the lingering ectoplasm from most of them, and they're drained afterwards, but they recover. Damian, who had much higher levels than most, seems almost sedated from his usual fury and violence. Cass privately notes that she can't read people as well anymore, and Damian's lethargy looks uncomfortable for him. She gets suspicious, but when no one listens to her concerns, she leaves for Hong Kong again. She's scared that if her levels get higher and they drain her again, she'll lose the ability to read people entirely. She doesn't want to lose such a fundamental part of how she interacts with the world.

When scanning, however, Batman gets pulled aside. They explain they've found a parasitic ghost in Red Hood, and removing it will be a much longer process. They show the ectoplasm levels, the scans with a visible core. Bruce connects this to the Pit Rage, and agrees to let them take Hood, hoping he will finally get his son back. Jason is cautious, but eventually agrees. This could be the cure he never thought he'd get.

The GIW is estatic. They've discovered a new halfa, and if they do this right, they'll be able to study halfa development. They have Phantom to tear apart to see what an actualised halfa looks like, but watching Hood grow and form? Trying to influence his development, maybe even weaponise him? This is an opportunity they have to make the most of. All they have to do is claim the parasite killed Hood before they could remove it, and they can keep him forever.

The second Jason is alone with the GIW, they sedate him. He wakes up in a cage too small to stand in, right next to the very Phantom he helped capture. The kid is asleep, curled on the floor, bleeding through loose stitches on an autopsy wound. He immediately realises they fucked up, and his rage/guilt/panic attack wakes Phantom up. He expected the kid to be angry, upset, even gleeful that Jason was caught too. He didn't expect the kid to look at him with sad pity, to calm him down and say he's sorry that Jason was mislead and betrayed like this. That yeah, shit's gonna suck now, but Danny (as he insisted) would be there for him for as long as their cages were kept together. That unlike Danny these past few months, Jason wouldn't be dealing with it alone.

The scientists slowly feed Jason ectoplasm, and cut him open daily to monitor how it affects him. Ironically, his Pit Rage is cured, but that doesn't make it any better. If anything, it's worse, because now he's fully cognizant and has no extra energy to fight with. He still does fight at first, even without the Pit, but he knows no one's coming to his rescue. Eventually, he joins Danny in his nihilistic snark and dead-eyed stare. And yeah, they joked about that pun.

Time becomes meaningless. They do whatever they can to escape the hopelessness. Horrifyingly morbid jokes, empty bets on what form of torture they'll endure next, whispered stories about the people they miss. They reach through electrified bars just to feel a hand that doesn't mean harm. They spill their guts, metaphorically and literally, exchanging their deepest fears and secrets until they know each other entirely. Their necessary codependency becomes actual love, because how can you go through this together and know each other so deeply and not love each other? Platonically or romantically or the secret third option that's just insanely codependent affection.

Not sure who ends up rescuing them, but I'm thinking either a) Tim gets suspicious, b) the Outlaws go hunting, or c) Cass realises they have Jason and immediately freaks out. Whoever, they meet up with Team Phantom. Tucker and Sam been on the run since Danny was caught, and Jazz could be in Arkham? Or dead, or on the run too. Team Phantom was only held back by their lack of muscle (that's usually Danny), and now that they have trained fighters on their side, they're able to break in and get their boys. Cue long healing journey and revenge time.

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[leo-artista]

Felt a bit nostalgic

[kingdomvel]

Steve Harrington is in his trailer. Tipsy. Full body laughing at something Eddie had said that he is sure was not that funny, his body melting against the arm of the couch.

It makes Eddie’s insides feel funny.

Damn.

He totally gets the Harrington charm now. He got it before, of course. He had eyes. But this? This is really something else. He would also be telling his friends and giggling if he was a girl, if the circumstances were different.

The phone rings, interrupting the moment, and Eddie has to stand up to answer.

“Munson Parlor, where all your dreams come true,” Eddie says into the phone. It sends Steve into more giggles. Eddie knows it was not funny.

“Eddie! Are we still on for today?” Gareth’s voice says. “I was thinking you could stay for dinner, we can all watch a movie or something.” Right. Eddie had talked to his friends about hanging out today after the heat of the day had gone down, and that is about now. “The others are coming to mine in like half.”

Eddie glances at Steve, still lounging on his couch, now taking a sip of his third beer as he looks at Eddie. His eyebrows go up when they make eye contact.

“Sorry man, can’t today, something came up.”

“What?”

“Yeah, but see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t have too much fun without me.”

He hangs up the phone without waiting for Gareth’s answer. He will have to answer some questions tomorrow, but nothing he can’t take.

When he walks back to the couch Steve has sat up, suddenly looking nervous.

“Sorry, I should have known you had plans, you probably weren’t expecting me to stay for so long.”

Eddie pushes him lightly so he is back at lounging. “Have you heard me complaining about having a pretty boy over? Because I don’t recall telling you to go.”

Eddie delights on Steve’s laugh and easy smile in answer.

Read the fic on ao3

[bluerosefox]

Paying a Price.

I want more Dad!Tim stuff. (And once again a deaged Danny and Ellie idea)

So let's go do that.

So you know those DPxDC AUs where Tim makes a deal with either Clockwork or Danny to carry Ellie? Or Tim is a reborn Danny whose carrying Ellie instead (love these btw) in order to get Bruce out of the time stream.

Well what about instead of just Ellie, it's both her and Danny.

Danny and Ellie who were badly hurt by the GIW that they both had to revert into their cores. They are saved by their friends/family and are taken to Frostbite. There they are monitored and looked after only until they can finally the reform but they run into a problem. The two can't return to their home dimension due to the GIW activity and they cant stay to long in the Infinite Realms cause they are still halfas. Then one day CW appears to speak with Frostbite over something important about the two.

Meanwhile in the DCverse.

Tim might have figured a way to save Bruce from the timestream. A being known as Clockwork might be able to help him if he manages to summon the powerful 'Ancient'.

However he knows summoning and requesting it's help he will have to pay a price.

If it means getting Bruce back he'll do it...