#rest writes

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.”

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She turns and takes in the familiar sight that greets her every morning; Jaskier fast asleep next to her, hair sticking up at all angles, mouth hanging open and drool forming on the pillow. He looks ridiculous, she thinks as he lets out another snore, but there is still something oddly charming about it. Perhaps it is because she knows how hard he tries to impress and how much effort he puts into his looks, only for it to all be stripped back to this snoring mess. Or perhaps, it’s because it is something private, something just for them, a side that only she is allowed to see.

She reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from his forehead and lets her fingers trace gently down his face, over his cheek, feeling the slight stubble growing again.

It is not unusual for her to wake before him, as she is often up early to get Ciri ready for school and open the shop, but it is rare that she can stay and just be with him. Normally, she is up and out of bed with nothing but a quick kiss to his cheek or a pinch to his ear depending on how she’s feeling.

But now she has time to stay, and study him. She can feel sleep still hovering near her, and it won’t be long before she is drawn back into its grasp. But for now she is content to let her fingers continue their journey across the freckled shoulder she knows so well, the marks she left on him last night, past the scars she knows all the stupid stories behind.

As she feels her eyelids start to droop again and she settles herself down next to him, tucking her face into his neck and breathing him in, feeling the sleepy kiss pressed into her hair as she is pulled in closer, she knows that even if she did fly away again, everything would lead her back her.

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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It wasn’t as if the feeling bothered him–it was just that Caleb was used to his lips chapping. The cabin air was always dry whether it was an aircraft or starship, and the lack of humidity in those environments was something he merely accepted. Besides, it wasn’t as if dry lips would interfere with his line of work. It was only an issue if you brought it up.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you?” You scolded, moving  into Caleb’s space as you pushed yourself over his legs, his back pressed into the couch cushion. With a grip on his chin, you turned his face slowly in every direction. The sunlight reflected in his ametrine eyes, and you didn’t understand the reason behind his pleading expression.

Nervously, he licked his lips, your eyes following the movement. 

“You’re not using the lip balm I got you,” you said, brows furrowing in mock anger at your accusation.

It was a love-hate relationship when you were like this. In the past, it felt natural–you’d get in his face, sloppily pressing your chapstick to his lips until they were thinly coated. It still felt natural–on your end at least–but over the years, Caleb had grown weary; his self-control was wearing thin. He would never snap and kiss you the way he’d been dreaming of for years, but when you got like this, it seemed like some divine punishment from God, striking him at his center.

“Hey now, pip-squeak,” he chuckled in an attempt to appease you, “it’s not like I didn’t want to.” His hands rose up and hovered over your hips, not daring to touch you. You were grown now; you could keep yourself steady. “The mission just took longer than expected and–”

Your index finger pressed into the fleshy center of his lips. “I don’t wanna hear your excuses.”

Digging into your pocket, you used one hand to steady yourself on his chest. Could you feel his heart beating wildly under his touch, or did you simply not care? Your hips swayed with the movement, bumping into either palm. Immediately, he dropped them to his sides, one hand scratching at the couch’s fabric. He needed something to keep him grounded.

Finding what you were looking for, you placed the tube between your teeth and pulled, mouth shaping into a perfect little ‘o.’ And like the many times you’ve done before, you spit the cap out into some unknown direction, leaning into him, lip balm ready.

You were close enough where your hair brushed his jaw, that hand pressing harder into his right shoulder. It was an agonizing feeling of half-warmth and half-numb. But the rest of your body, like your looks, were scorching hot, branded into his skin.

Lashes fluttering downward in full concentration, you traced the shape of his lips with the balm. It was flavorless but Caleb could smell a hint of aloe and Vitamin E.

He could say a quip–how you look like you wanna kiss him or that you’re too close; you’ve taken his breath away. Some self-destructive part of him wanted to ruin this illusion–it’d hurt less that way–but that other part kept on wanting to push you as if you were lost, needing to find the right direction. Either way, Caleb wouldn’t act without your confirmation, and for now, you seemed content with whatever this was. You went over his cupid’s bow one last time until his lips were glossy. 

“So whaddya think of my makeover, pip-squeak?” He asked as you settled into his lap, your thighs spread on either side of him.

Scoffing, you gave him a once over, starting from his crown and following the brunette path of his hair until they met violet. Caleb’s eyes danced between your own and your mouth, trying to guess your answer. Next your eyes traveled down the perfect slope of his nose, past his lips, taking a curve to appreciate the strong line of his jaw before ending at his Adam's apple. Caleb swallowed under your scrutiny.

“Did your mission make you starved for attention?” You pursed your lips into a pout. Unlike him, you weren’t wearing lip balm but some kind of gloss. It sparkled under the sunlight. “Caleb, you already know the answer.”

His hand reached up to gently pinch the crease of flesh where your hip and thigh met, earning him a scowl. “If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t be asking.”

Closing the distance between you, your hair tickled his neck, like sunshine on the skin. That hand he swore he wouldn’t move crossed your hip and settled on the small of your back. It could have been your heart or his–he couldn’t tell–that was thrumming under each other’s touch.

Your lipgloss was fruity and something sweet, the manifestation of all his temptation. If he turned his head slightly, he’d meet it.

“Isn’t there some saying that goes ‘you’ll always be beautiful to the one that loves you’?” Your words stumbled awkwardly, and you laid your forehead into the crook of his neck, embarrassed by your lack of finesse. You were warm but so was Caleb.

He didn’t press you for elaboration, his arms pulling you in.

All the things that you both couldn’t wouldn’t and didn’t say were stuck between you, and somewhere on the floor, the lip balm laid forgotten.

A/N: I've never been a fan of childhood friends-to-lovers but oof the way Infold has developed Caleb's storyline has me hooked. It's not just his yearning, but the way his relationship with MC is defined by what they are and aren't, the things they say and don't. I'm gonna go insane.

Return to

Main M.list

Scrubbing at your arms to get some kind of warmth, you huffed impatiently. The informant was late. Sure, it was understandable why the Bat would want all contact to be verbal; both of you–well, mainly you–would go down if you were caught. Everyone knew what Cobblepot was capable of. The shorter list of convictions compared to other Gotham criminals didn’t mean that he was less capable, and working for the corporate and legal end of his business meant that you were privy to the real reasons behind the sudden company reorgs.

You shivered before deciding to pace around your office. It wasn’t like the informant to be late. Were they caught? Were you busted? Maybe you should just go home. You spent too many hours working overtime anyway.

The goosebumps weren’t going away. The office A/C that you cherished in the sticky and humid summers of Jersey was now a frigid hell. You weren’t sure of who was punishing you–the Batman or the Penguin.

With the creak of your door, you snapped, “About fuckin’–”

The last word fell into the nylon carpet as you stared into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood. The door slammed shut, and he left it unlocked. It didn’t matter. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get past him anyway. Instead, you froze in front of your desk.

“Yeah, let’s talk about getting fucked.” The robotic drawl of your full name in perfect pronunciation made you grimace as he stepped towards you. Any thoughts of him walking into the wrong office and getting the wrong person were gone. “That was pretty ballsy of you to drop my name in your conversations with the Bat.”

You couldn’t even deny his accusation. You thought you were being clever, that maybe you could do some of that double-crossing shit that the vigilantes and villains played so easily. It seemed easy because you were an amateur; maybe you were fucking up this entire time. All you remembered were the extra zeros in your bank account as you played Batman and your boss.

“Mr. Cobblepot has an image to maintain,” you told the informant–Spanky? Or was it Matches? Either way the name was ridiculous–“so he wouldn’t intentionally let this new drug hit his clubs.”

The latest street drug in Gotham had a similar chemical compound to drugs like buprenorphine and chlordiazepoxide. They eased the symptoms of withdrawal, making a more tolerable and safer transition into sobriety.

“So you’re saying that sobering up his clients isn’t in his best interest?” His mustache twitched, and you wondered if it was glued on or real.

“Exactly. His regular clients would seek out other dealers to get the high they’re used to. They don’t go to the Iceberg Lounge for the atmosphere. They go because it’s one of the safer options to get snowed. Who knows what sort of diabolical shit is mixed into the Black Mask’s supply?”

His mustache wiggled as he hummed. “Well, if it isn’t the Penguin, who else would put this on the streets?”

The informant paid close attention to your words as you paused to give him a new lead. 

“Well, if you're looking for the name of a cartel or gang, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I don’t know much about its manufacturing or distribution. I work in communications, so…” 

Crossing your arms, you blew some air as you tried to think of a name to distract the Bat and keep your wallet fat. “The only crime lord that would benefit from this is the Red Hood, don’t you think?”

Ever since he first showed up on the scene, he’d been adamant about cleaning up the underbelly of Gotham. His strict rules against selling to kids made the areas he controlled safer. Commissioning this drug and letting it hit the Gotham market was a way to help addiction-addled neighborhoods rebuild. 

His expression was unreadable behind his dark glasses. The only way you knew that he was satisfied with your answer was when you heard your bank app ding with the agreement that you’d meet again in two weeks.

At the time, you thought that mentioning the Red Hood was ingenious. Compared to other criminals, the Red Hood seemed to be less vicious towards women. Since his rise to power, there hadn’t been any reports or news about him or his henchmen attacking them. If the informant wanted you to name drop someone, you were going to choose someone who would maybe spare your life. Yet seeing him up close gave you some doubt.

You swallowed your nervousness as you edged to the desk. Your hands blindly reached for something that could do some damage, but alas, your laptop was packed away and your pens were in their drawer.

“Look,” he sighed, “if you’re gonna play dirty, you gotta make sure your opponent can’t find dirt on you.” It was a roundabout way of calling you a dumbass.

You half turned to watch him circle round your desk, kneeling to dial in the combo to your locked drawer. Stupidly, you got closer when you heard the click that told you he opened it successfully. Using your birthday backwards as the combo was enough to deter nosy co-workers but clearly wasn’t not secure enough to deter a crime lord with a vendetta. If you made it out alive, you promised yourself that you’d change all of your passwords to something with stronger security–you’d even make sure that you didn’t repeat them on several accounts.

“Jesus,” the Red Hood laughed through his modulator, “you got the rechargeable one too? I’m not sure if Cobblefield ain’t paying you shit, batteries are expensive, you’re environmentally-conscious,, or it’s some combination of the above.” 

The sight of a cross-armed Red Hood with your rabbit vibe in his hands was something you’d never imagine in your wildest dreams.

“Your little toy isn’t the only thing I found out about you.” 

Oh god, what else did he find? Your face felt hot from embarrassment.

“Did you know that the sites you go on and the things you search can still be tracked by an establishment’s WiFi network log?” 

He was grinning beneath the mask, you just knew it. Bastard. 

“Yeah, even if you use your phone on private browsing… Crazy, right?”

All you could muster was a choked ‘yeah’ as you tried to recall everything you looked up in the past week. It was highly likely that the Red Hood looked back at least a month. Now what did you search for that wasn’t related to work?

You didn’t have to recall. He listed it out for you in a painfully slow and enunciated manner.

“Red Hood shirtless, Red Hood legs spread, Red Hood dick size, mask or helmet kink, intro to BDSM, what is a service top… And this was just within the past two weeks, goddamn.” He shook his head in judgment. “Should I continue?”

Fuck.

You couldn’t show fear to these types of people, you learned early on in your career. That’s what they got off on.

“What’s wrong with a woman having a healthy sexual appetite?” You asked defensively. “You some kind of prude or what?” That seemed to get a genuine laugh out of him.

“See, here’s the thing,” he told you, helping himself to your luxury office chair, leaning back as his boots settled on the desk. “Everyone thinks that I’m a bad guy, that I just blindly use violence to punish even badder guys. ‘There aren’t any brains under that hood! He’s just some beefy bastard with a fat cock! An idiot! A dunce!’” If he was speaking in some high-pitched mocking tone, his modulator didn’t catch it. It stayed in that robotic monotone.

Jason paused for a second to see if you’d agree, forgetting that a normal reaction was to be scared shitless and mute. When you didn’t make an indication of anything, those combat boots of his hit the carpet with a thud, chair screeching and lurching forward to see your face. Your toy laid forgotten on the desk.

Audibly you swallowed as you looked at him–well, not really him but the mask that he wore, the bright white of his eyes a stark contrast to the cherry red of his helmet. It was the mystery of what he looked like beneath it that drove your imagination wild. What color were his eyes? His hair? How full were his lips? Did he have scars?

As if knowing that you wanted a better angle, he tilted your chin to comply with your unspoken wish. It wasn’t as if it changed anything; you still knew nothing of his looks, but the cool leather of his glove made you more aware of how starved you were of any kind of touch. That healthy sexual appetite you claimed to have suddenly turned into hunger pangs.

“There was a lot of thought put into this plan, sweetheart,” the Red Hood chided.

His glove left your face to press on some hidden panel close to his jaw. There was a soft click that loosened his helmet.

Then you heard him–somewhat muffled and low and incredibly human. 

“See, I’m giving you a pretty sick deal. You get to live out one of your fantasies in exchange for recanting your statement to the Bat. Even if I have nothing to hide, I hate whenever the old man comes sniffing around. Don’t worry. I’ll even promise my protection too in the event of retaliation–from him or Cobblepot. Do we have a deal or not?”

Your voice came out breathier than you realized. “And if I say no?”

He made a show of taking off his helmet, and to your surprise, a red domino mask covered his eyes. Tousling his dark curls, he pursed those perfect lips, “Well, shit. When I was searching through those logs, I figured that you’d be so horny for me that refusing wouldn’t even cross your mind.”

It was starting to make sense why Cobblepot was always irritated after dealing with the Red Hood. You laughed. “Look Hood, the quips were cute at first, but they’re getting old fast. You’re so full of yourself. Now tell me what happens if I refuse.”

“One, if you say yes, you could be full of me too.” You imagined that if he took the domino off that he’d punctuate that sentence with a wink. “And two…”

You could hear the smile in his voice along with something devious. When did he get so close? He was slotted between your legs as you sat on the edge of your desk. The cool feel of his gloves pulled your arms back and held your wrists there, leaving you captive to whatever he had to say.

“You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

“Oh yeah?” you breathed out. Fine, you’d admit it. That was fucking hot. “Then show me.”

“Show you what?”

His thigh nudged your center, pushing your dress skirt up with the motion.

“What you do to bad girls,” you said through gritted teeth. His hold on your wrists kept your upper body in place.

“Say it for me first.”

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t use your leg to drag him closer. You hooked one leg behind him. Now you could feel his length against you though he wouldn’t budge otherwise.

“Please.” 

Nothing.

“Daddy, please.”

“You can be obedient when you want to be, huh? Fuckin’ brat.” Jason found amusement in your frustration. “Sorry, but those aren’t the right words. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, we have a fuckin’ deal.”

Finally that thick thigh was back to putting sweet pressure on your clit, the Red Hood’s slight movements providing teasing friction that kept you slick.

“Atta girl, princess. ‘Fraid I gotta shut you up for a few though. I know your performance reviews say that you’re well-spoken, but they made no mention of you being so damn chatty.”

Before you could talk about the irony of his comment, Jason let your wrists go and stepped back, using his free hands to unzip his pants and pull out his cock and balls. Your mouth hung open at the sight.

Giving it a stroke upwards, his balls followed the movement. Jason smeared his precum over the shaft, giving it a nice shine before ordering you to lay flat on your desk with your head hanging from the edge. His sack looked heavy and full.

“So this is what you meant–”

“Less talking, more sucking,” he grunted, taking the opportunity to shove the tip into your mouth.

The girth was unexpected as your jaw stretched to accommodate his size. You gave it a suck before relaxing your throat to take more of him. Jason eased into you slowly, watching as you swallowed as many inches as you could before pulling out and smearing his spit-laden cock across your mouth. You jerked him while gently sucking on his nuts, thinking about the reward you’d get if you could edge him long enough. The thought of him filling you up with a big, hot load made your center ache.

So focused on your thoughts, you hardly noticed that Jason replaced himself with your toy, watching as your drool frothed and dribbled down your chin while you gagged.

“Be patient with me, princess,” he murmured as he leaned across your body, vibe in hand, to push your panties aside, cock pressing against your cheek. You tried to move your head to take his length but the Red Hood’s weight made it difficult to do so.

Jason wasted no time shoving the entirety of the toy inside you, making you gasp. If you wanted him as desperately as he thought, then he had to prep you well so you could take him.

“Patience,” he lightly scolded you. “Damn, if I knew you were this needy for Daddy’s cock, I would have come earlier so the fun could last longer.” He placed himself back in your throat.

Slow deep breaths through your nose, you reminded yourself. It was difficult though when he was facefucking you in sync with your toy. There was little room for your moans and sighs to escape.

He most definitely understood your muffled ‘FUCK’ when he turned on the toy though, both shaft and rabbit ears vibrating. Your knuckles were white from desperately clutching at whatever you could; you needed something to keep you grounded from the assault on your clit, toy shaped perfectly to hit your G-spot.

The vibe kept making you moan, making your throat squeeze in ways that would make Jason cum early. “That’s it for now,” he said to deaf ears, pulling out to focus on playing with your pussy. He repositioned himself so one hand controlled the toy and the other held you down.

“Is this all you got?” You taunted, sweat catching the neon lights from the window. Your hair was disheveled and stuck to your forehead. Your legs quivered. You looked pathetic. 

The Red Hood laughed, and you weren’t sure of what you wanted more of–that mocking robotic modulator or the rich tones of his real voice.

“The way your lips are wrapped around that toy tells me that’s more than enough. If you want this,” his cock was still perfectly hard and this angle highlighted the thick veins that lined his shaft, “then we need to take our time. Luckily for you, I have the patience of a saint.”

“Well, I don’t. Sit down, so I can fuck you.”

He was used to more demure requests to ride him, so your brazen words lit something inside Jason. Fuck it, he thought. He was still annoyed at you mentioning his name to Bruce. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he watched you struggle to take him.

The toy came out with a yank, your pussy aching. The emptiness was only temporary though. There was something more filling, waiting for it.

Seeing that slight look of surprise on his mouth was worth it as you pushed him onto the chair, spitting on his cock before straddling him. Your panties were lost in some dark corner along with your bra. Your disheveled office wear struggled to maintain your modesty with loose buttons and crumpled fabric.

“Mmfph–fuck!” 

Your nails dug into the Red Hood’s shoulders as you tried to find your pace. You had about halfway more to go.

“Told ya,” he said smugly, reaching beneath your dress to squeeze your ass. He buried his face in your tits, sucking on whatever flesh he could. You gasped when he finally reached your nipple, his tender suction making you shiver.

“Big motherfucker,” you grumbled, bouncing up and down on what you could with his help.

“Damn, you feel good,” Jason sighed. 

Lately he’d been so focused on the complicated aspects of his line of work; it seemed like he could never just chill and do something for himself. Isn’t that what all the experts say? That self-care was important?

So when one of his informants told him that Bruce and his band of bat brats were poking around his turf, Jason’s first thought was to dispose of whoever Bruce paid off. When the informant said that the rat was the Iceberg Lounge’s hot publicist, he considered his first reaction too harsh, that perhaps it’d be best if he investigated this personally. Oh, he was so fucking glad that he did.

With each bounce, he pushed you lower on his length, and he’d go by half-inches if it meant reaching heaven. Fucking you with the toy first was a brilliant idea. Even though you didn’t say it, he knew you came. That’s why you were struggling on his cock. That cute little cunt of yours was still spasming from your first orgasm. How could anyone be so tight and wet, he thought, and for him.

He sat back and watched as you kept riding him with frustration. Your sweet pussy nectar was pooling at the base, and the lewd sounds it made was music to his ears. But the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks would be even nicer.

“Good effort, princess, but you’re starting to look pathetic and needy and desperate. What?” He laughed, swiping his thumb along your pout. “It’s cute. Daddy’ll take care of you.”

He hoisted you off him with ease, giving you another reason to make your pussy throb. A part of you wanted to ask him to fuck you while standing or maybe against the wall. No! A small rational voice told you. Let’s see what he does first.

Laying you on the ground, he pushed your legs back with your ankles on his shoulders, exposing your cunt to cool air. It was slick and puffy from all the work you put in. Taking two fingers, Jason spread your lips so he could tease your clit. Each little movement made you twitch. 

Perfect, he thought. He knew how to get you where he wanted. The feeling of his thick, heavy tip rubbing your most sensitive spot made your toes curl as you huffed and moaned at his touch. Your hips pressed up in a weak attempt to slip it in. Your heels were nearly dangling off your feet from the movement.

“Since you want this cock so badly, I’ll give it to you, princess, but we’re doing it my way.”

Eagerly, you nodded. Your way, his way. It didn’t matter as long as he was in you.

Yet quickly you found out that you shouldn’t have agreed so readily. He moved impossibly slow.

“It’s a shame,” he tried to make small talk, one gloved hand carefully keeping the distance between you and his cock while the other balanced his weight above you, “that you chose to work for Cobblepot. How bout you work for me instead? Name your salary–I’ll double it. As a bonus, we can even fuck whenever you want.”

“You act as if I need your cock.” 

Ignoring your tone, Jason stated the obvious. You did. Your body practically melted in the carpet when he went completely in.

“Look how full you are. You think you can go back to your toys or another man’s cock after this? I ruined you, princess.” Instead of sounding remorseful, he was proud. “I bet in the days after, you’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout how empty you feel without me.”

You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of being right–his cock felt so good once you got through that first bit of discomfort–but there was no point in being stubborn. The Red Hood didn’t intend on having you hear him out. He was going to show you.

He fucked you as roughly as you imagined, using long strokes that left both of you breathless. There was something erotic about the sudden silence. There was only heavy breathing and moans, slick sounds and pounding.

And when you came, it was like the lights cut out, eyes squeezed shut for total darkness. The only electricity existed in his touch, sparking waves of pleasure throughout your body.

–

Uncertain if you actually dozed off or not, you woke up to a familiar mechanic hum. He had his helmet back on, his clothes back to their baseline level of grunge. Perhaps it was because of the intimacy you shared, but the Red Hood seemed far less threatening now compared to the start of the night.

“Don’t forget about the deal we made,” he told you, standing near your feet.

Like him, going back to how you normally were was easy now that lust no longer clouded your actions.

“And what if I don’t?” you asked, standing slowly from sore muscles. “Like you said earlier, I am a bad girl.”

“I’ve already planned for that.”

You tried to fix your dress to the best of your abilities. It was no use though. It was a poor victim of your decisions.

“Well, if that’s the case, expect another visit.” 

You stalled, letting the fabric fall as you tried to decipher his meaning behind the modulator. Was that a threat or a promise?

“And next time, I’m coming during office hours.”

You let the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your thighs decide for you.

Return to

Curated Masterlists

Even if things weren’t adding up, you could hardly complain about your situation. The wet sounds of skin on skin and murmurs of praise made it all too easy to get lost in sensation. There shouldn’t have been anything more pressing to think about, only things to feel, and yet your mind still wandered, even if it was just for a moment. 

Tonight was unusual, no, maybe special was a better word for the occasion. Getting drinks with Shouto’s friends wasn’t outside of the norm. The bar beside your apartment was known for its discrete treatment of superpowered patrons, making it an easy choice for meet ups. You were used to seeing Momo and Midoriya, but they weren’t there tonight; both were tasked with the night patrol in their designated precincts. Instead, there was Bakugou who finally warmed up to you, and Kirishima who you hardly, if ever, saw. It was a rare occasion to see him with the group. Similar to Iida, his patrol route and schedule were often opposite of Shouto’s, so the redhead usually wasn’t present. At least Camie was there to fill the lull in any conversations.

“Hey beautiful!” She beckoned, drawing a few looks, mostly from an annoyed Bakugou. She slapped on the vinyl seat beside her–a special spot reserved for you.

Kirishima shot up, pulled out the chair, and even took care to push you in. You swore you felt a calloused sweep of fingertips across your shoulders, but Shouto’s lack of reaction convinced you that it was nothing. 

“A gentleman, isn’t he?” Camie commented before glancing at the blond to her side. “Unlike some people.” He grunted in response. It seemed that Camie was still bitter about their team-up a few months back. An allegedly careless Bakugou blasted too close to her scene, ruining her illusion, but more importantly her fresh blowout.

And it was nothing other than good food, good drinks, and good conversation until Bakugou was the first to go.

He smirked at Shouto before tugging a mask loop behind his ear–a sorry excuse of a disguise, really, since his trademark red eyes and blond hair were still visible.

“Moving up in the ranks just means that I’ll be busier. Might be awhile before I see you extras again.”

You winced at his cringiness. You still weren’t used to his manner of speaking, but Shouto wasn’t phased.

“I suppose that means that Midoriya will be busier than all of us.”

Stifling a laugh behind your hand, Camie and Kirishima diffused the situation with exaggerated ‘oohs’ and teasing.

“Luckily for you,” the redhead slapped his friend’s back, “Shou’s got ice for that sick burn.”

“Oof! Just take the L, Bakubro, and don’t say anything,” Camie sniggered, hooking her arm through his. “And to help you walk outta here with some dignity left, I’ll even walk with ya to the train station.” 

She flashed you a peace sign, “Gotta wake up early for a podcast interview overseas. Later, girlie!”

With only you, Shouto, and Kirishima left, you expected him to say his goodbyes as well, but instead he ruffled the back of his head before shoving his fists in his pockets, looking at you both with puppy dog eyes. “Well, shit, I didn’t expect the night to end this soon, unless…?”

You felt bad. Kirishima was just griping about how his precinct being understaffed due to some injuries. He’s been working overtime for three months now.

“It’s not like we have any plans for tomorrow,” you started, waiting for Shouto’s agreement. He nodded.

“Come over. Our place is right there anyway.”

Kirishima followed behind you, practically bouncing the entire way.

–

It was a dumb question yet you couldn’t help but feel flustered otherwise. Drawing the duvet up to your nose, you wondered why your boyfriend didn’t automatically know your answer. Daring to look at him, Shouto waited for your answer patiently. There wasn’t any way you could avoid this.

Swallowing nervously, you answered before trying to hide back into the blanket, “Obviously, it’s you.”

Tutting, he undid your work to push back a strand of hair that got in your face—a flimsy shield from his questioning. His movement pushed back the blanket too, and gooseflesh prickled your skin.

“You didn’t even know who I was when we met.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he looked down at you with thick lashes. There wasn’t any offense in his voice, only amusement.

You argued back, “Did too. I just pretended not to know you. How could I act normal when one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors was approaching me?”

That heated hand strayed from your ear to the side of your neck, settling along its curve. “That’s a conversation for another time.” And you knew that your little comment wouldn’t be forgotten. “But really, who’s your hero crush? Everyone has at least one.”

Embarrassment and shyness crept up your chest and towards your cheeks, and you hoped that he couldn’t feel the difference. He could, he’d later tell you.

“Red Riot,” you finally admitted, before adding “it’s not like I’m a fan girl though!”

How could you ignore him when he was plastered all over your social media feeds? It’s not like you actively sought out all those posts about Red Riot either. Apparently the algorithm thought you hung out with thirsty motherfuckers–and it was true for the most part; officer workers needed some sort of eye candy to help them through the day–and decided to share their horniess with you.

Satisfied with your answer, he settled back into his spot beside you. “Maybe you have a thing for redheads,” he mused before asking if he should dye all his hair that color.

“Absolutely not!” You sat up in bed to prove your point, nearly knocking Shouto out in the process. “That’s part of your appeal! It’s like two different looks depending on the angle.”

Shouto didn’t need to hear anymore about how opposites attract and how his looks were the perfect embodiment of that, but if he kept teasing you like this, you were willing to steer the conversation in that direction.

His lips curved upwards, turning into an actual smile, the playfulness practically spilling from his mouth. It took you months into the relationship to recognize the slightest tells of his teasing. 

“Oh, so it’s like you have two boyfriends depending on which side you’re on?”

Your index finger dug into his chest. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

Playtime was over. Your show was starting soon, and you’d prefer to be at ease in his arms instead of squirming for his amusement.

–

It was hard to take Camie seriously in general but even more so when she wagged her index finger around like a mother who knew best, pointing at the cushioned space between you and Mina.

“The best way to go about it is to find two randos to bone.” Finally her manicured nail landed on you as she advised that couples should hook up with someone they knew but weren’t close to. You weren’t sure why she looked at you with those eyes of certainty, as if they were silently begging you to know some secret. “If it sucks–in a bad way obvi–you probs won’t care if you tell  your third to get the bird.” She made a crude gesture with her hand.

Bottomless mimosas made sure that whatever arithmetic skills you had were gone for the day. What was the point of making things make sense when you were having fun?  The conversation kept ping ponging from couples to threesomes to the abysmal sex your friends were having while single. You laughed as Mina divulged in her latest date.

“Are you talking about the latest hero team ups?” Shouto’s voice called from the entry way before the door shut behind him.

His hair was damp, meaning that he must have showered at the agency. The occasional droplets that fell from his hair were enough to distract you from the conversation.

“Yeah,” Mina laughed, “somethin’ like that, Icy Hot.”

From the way you were eyeing him, it was clear that it was time for your friends to leave. She reached over to Camie, pulling her up, but the honey blonde wasn’t ready to leave until Mina gave her an obvious nudge. 

“Well, girly pop, we’ll leave you lovebirds alone for now!” She leaned in for a quick hug, “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

Shouto waited for them by the door to say a quick goodbye, making a comment about Midoriya keeping everyone updated on the latest duos and teams. It was informative, he told them,  encouraging them to sign up for the mailing list if they wanted to know more.

“Those ain’t the double teams we’re interested in, bub.” Camie giggled. “Thanks though. Alright–one last goodbye. TTFN, babes!”

As the click of their heels faded down the hall, you rounded on Shouto. Now that the initial stun of his good looks were gone, you were bold enough to tell him to drop the  oblivious act now that your friends were gone.

“What do you mean?” He smiled, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

You gave him a hard look, and he stretched out his arms in return.

With a huff, you went into his arms. It’d be easier to scold him up close anyway.

“Your PR manager can make you act as oblivious as you want in public, but I know that you heard everything we were talking about Shou.”

One of his hands slipped from your waist to play underneath your shirt. He might as well have gotten underneath your skin with the tone he was speaking in.

“Why were you talking about that anyway? Do you want to bring someone into our bed?”

Luckily for you, your bra unhooked while you answered, giving you a plausible reason for the hitch in your voice. “No–well, uh, yes, but um, Mina was the one to bring it up first! You know that she’s been single for a while, and Camie well, you know how she is…”

His pause was long as his fingers trailed up your spine. He hummed. “Well, alright. We can talk about this again when you’re less embarrassed.”

“You little shit,” you groused, “you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

“Aren’t you happy that I’m only this way with you?” He leaned down.

Any intentions of acting out begrudgingly faded as the kiss led to more clothes on the floor and  urged steps towards the bedroom.

–

You were happy to have the help of alcohol to keep the conversation going. Shouto’s hand was heavy whenever he poured drinks, the habit worsened when he was even the slightest bit buzzed. They weren’t enough to send you over the edge, but you were in that sweet spot where everything tingled and had a pleasant haze. 

“Seriously!” Kirishima laughed. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” It was probably the alcohol that was making your heart flutter when he said your name. “Kirishima is what my manager calls me when I’m in trouble. You can just call me Kiri.”

“Alright, Kiri,” you acquiesced, staring at your drink. At the time, you didn’t know that you’d be calling out that name all night.

–

You still couldn’t remember what sparked the conversation. Maybe a comment, a look, a laugh. All that really stuck out was a playful peck on the cheek that turned into a heated kiss with wandering hands. Kirishima’s red gaze was on you, but you didn’t mind it at that moment. 

His words stuck out as oddly shy from his usual manner of speaking. “Did you really mean that?”

The smoothness and confidence in Shouto’s voice surprised you and Kirishima too. “Don’t feel pressured if you don’t want to.”

When he said that he might not make it back to his place, Kirishima didn’t think you’d take his comment so seriously. “You can stay here tonight then,” you told him, only looking back at Shouto to see if it was okay after the offer. When he told him that he could stay in your bed too, Kirishima thought it was a classic case of Shouto being overly polite. He practically choked when he clarified that he meant in bed with both of you.

Never in his wildest dreams would he peg Shouto to be interested in something like this, but when he saw that nervous yet hopeful look in your eyes, he realized he was doing it for you. And maybe it was drunk logic, but what kind of friend would he be if he couldn’t help a friend in need?

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

Shouto looked at you for the answer. Having both of their eyes on you made everything feel so real to the point that it was nearly sobering. You felt self-conscious as you rambled out your list of wants. Your glass was still half-full; it was difficult to look at either of them directly.

“I want both of you at once.”

“Where?” Kirishima asked.

Your pause clued Shouto in to what you wanted, and you swore you felt the pride swell in his chest when he told Kirishima that he’d show him where.

“I just want to feel good. I want to feel pretty and used but cherished. Does that make sense? Seriously Shou, don’t give me that look. This is embarrassing enough as it is. Is there anything you want?”

Shouto was straight-forward and simple as always. “Make her cum.”

To ease your nerves, he kissed you with sweetness, ending it with an affectionate peck on the lips and that softness in his eyes that always made you swoon.

You worked on removing each other’s clothes, and now with a groan of frustration and need, you realized that your liquid courage hadn’t left you completely. Your hands kept fiddling with Shouto’s pants.

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Kirishima asked from behind. Your heart nearly lept into your throat as his body pressed into yours. His desire brushed behind your thigh as his hand took your shaking one, guiding it in one smooth motion to pull down Shouto’s zipper, the last of his clothes finally falling to the floor.

“Thanks Kiri.”

“No prob, gorgeous.” 

You were close enough to hear the pull of his lips twist up into a smile, to feel his heated breath against your neck. Again, your hands stalled, awkwardly skimming Shouto’s chiseled hip.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” your boyfriend reassured you as he guided you onto your back. Shouto’s voice was an anchor, smoothly giving you commands. The couch was comfortable and felt familiar beneath your fingertips. He was right. It was okay to relax too. “Because we’re going to take care of you,” he promised. “We’ll make you feel good.”

It wasn’t difficult to admire either of them, but seeing them together was nearly too much stimulation for your eyes. Embarrassingly, you spent more time looking at Kirishima. Shouto’s body was familiar with his long, lean muscles and smooth skin. Kirishima was noticeably wider and thick with more fat padding the muscles beneath it. You didn’t dare to look at Shouto’s eyes. You both knew that you were staring.

Feeling a cold touch on your knee, your eyes finally met his. “I’m telling you to do this for us, love, not asking you.” His hand pushed your knee outwards. He wanted you to spread your legs. And you did, the change in Shouto’s tone making your heart flutter. 

When you were finally spread, you fought the urge to close them once more. Both men looked at your center intently. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Shouto spoke to Kirishima. It was as if you weren’t there or couldn’t hear them. “Look at how pretty her pussy looks?” 

He nodded in agreement, saying that he couldn’t wait to taste you. Though he and Shouto had a similar directness in their speech, you felt shy towards his enthusiasm.

“Kiri!”

His tongue already lapped at your clit before licking a stripe downwards, sucking and tasting all of your wetness. The thick index finger he added earned another yelp, followed by a moan. After a minute of gentle prodding, he added a second finger.

“Nothing beats a wet and wanting cunt,” he pulled back to tell Shouto. The way he smiled at him was shameless, his lower lip and chin covered in saliva and your sweetness. Kirishima even demonstrated his point, moving his thick body aside so Shouto could see you. He scissored your hole, gave it a pump, and pulled out as quick as he could. The sounds were lewd as he fingered you lazily.

And the sounds didn’t go unnoticed by Shouto. He peered over Kirishima’s shoulder, leaning over to look as if he hadn’t seen your body before, as if he hadn’t felt it, before giving a pleased smile. While Kirishima explored you with wonder over the new and unknown, to Shouto, he knew you well enough, knowing every place that made you ache. The redhead’s excitement was a reminder that though he shared you tonight, you were his tomorrow and the next.

His eyes trailed up your hips, lingering at your heaving chest, before finally meeting your eyes. “So noisy,” he commented–whether it was about your pussy or your whimpers, you weren’t sure. Kirishima’s fingers were thicker and calloused from his training and Quirk. 

“She’s greedy,” he told Kirishima, “look how she keeps on whining for more.”

“Love,” he addressed you, “you can hardly take two fingers, but now you want three?” He smirked. “Soon you’ll be asking for two cocks at once.” Heat rose up your body, or was it the effect of Shouto’s hand on your thigh? He cocked his head at your embarrassment, using that tone you hated. “What? Isn’t that what you were asking for last night? Begging to have your pretty little pussy stretched by my cock and your toy?”

Kirishima perked up from his place between your legs, making a show of the wetness he wiped from his mouth. “Oh yeah? You took them both?” 

He didn’t know the size of your toy, but like everything else on Shouto, his cock was impressive–good proportions, cut, and a nice thick head that was drooling with pre-cum. His trimmed pubes and pink sack only highlighted it more.

“And she took them so well,” Shouto cooed.

Giving himself a quick pump to provide his cock some relief, Kirishima took Shouto’s words as a sign to add in a third finger. It already felt so tight, but the extra digit made you wetter as he continued his pace, this time slower because of the cramped space.

“Your boyfriend’s right, sweetheart,” he said. “You really know how to take it.”

If you just focused on the pleasure, it would be enough to send you over the edge. Kirishima kept bumping and nudging all the spots that made you jump, but it was Shouto’s soft coaching and Kirishima’s praise that would be the ones to push you over. Your toes curled as your breathing hitched, going and going and going until emptiness made you whine.

There were no fingers or Shouto’s hands on your thighs. The boys were talking to each other.

“Mind if I get her ready for us?”

“Be our guest.”

Maybe you were just sensitive or maybe you were annoyed, but the sound of Kirishima spitting was loud, as if it were some display of masculinity. The saliva pooled on the middle of his shaft and he made a show of rubbing it in.

His cock was thick like the rest of his body, not quite the length of Shouto’s but impressive nonetheless. What caught your eye in the haze of your edging were three rows of black beads, one on either end, sitting horizontally beneath his head. You wondered what needle was sharp enough to pierce his skin, then thought he did it without Quirk activation.

Red eyes followed yours before he gave you a wink. “Ribbed for your pleasure,” he joked. “You’ll get what I mean in a second.”

When he entered, your breath was stolen and held in your throat, holding it still until you felt his entirety inside you. Shouto moved to his spot behind Kirishima again, watching you take his cock. Kindly, Kirishima gave you a chance to breathe, pressing your legs back until they touched your shoulders. You thought he’d be positioning you for your comfort, but instead you felt every inch of him. The slightest readjustment made you feel the drag and pressure of his piercings.

“Don’t you look so pretty taking another man’s cock?” Shouto teased you from somewhere in the room. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, breathing focused so you wouldn’t cum just yet. You wanted to feel him fuck you, but the dark tone in Shouto’s voice was making you melt. You had to get a grip on yourself, but it was easier for both men to see that you were losing it.

“Play with her tits, Kiri,” Shouto told him. “Her nipples are sensitive.”

As masculine as Kirishima presented, it was surprising how well he obeyed. His weight pressed into you and the couch as he bent down to suck on your tits. Up close, he lingered for a brief second to watch their sway with the movement before starting with the left, then the right. 

The attention he gave them was nice, more than that, it was delicate as he sucked and nibbled on them. Perhaps you were too used to Shouto’s amusement as he used his Quirk to harden them, giving them a rough pinch to help you cum. It was clear that multi-tasking wasn’t his forte though. His thrusts were shallow. 

“I need to cum,” you finally whined. Between his body and yours, you were able to sneak a hand to your clit, rubbing to get what you were owed.

“You heard her, didn’t you?”

Kirishima’s will power was always one of his more noteworthy traits. It was something your co-workers swooned over. You were learning just how strong it was in a different way though. His movements were rough and shaking the couch. You made a note to yourself that you’d later forget: realign it with the rug. 

The man was talking more to himself than you or Shouto, mumbling about your tightness. His words were clearer when you came. His cock was out–a smart move or else he would have joined you. Continuing to rub it, it was sleek with your juices. “I can’t wait to feel how tight you are when Shouto and I are fucking you.”

Like a rag doll, you let them reposition you as they pleased, still chasing the waves of your orgasm. They buried your face in the cushions as Kirishima pulled your hips up and behind. Your pussy felt tighter when he entered you again. This time your breath was still with you.

“We need to make sure you’re prepped for us.” Shouto’s voice was disembodied and distant again.

Kirishima’s voice was distant too. You were sure if his voice was heavier from the work he was doing or his need to cum. “I’m gonna add a few fingers in, okay? If it’s too much, just tell me. If it’s not enough, beg for more.”

He was true to his word, adding in the first and second digits slowly. “It feels good,” you reassured him.

“Not good enough,” he huffed. He felt your pussy fluttering around his cock and fingers, but you weren’t quite where he wanted you. Kirishima wanted to hear you cry out his and Shouto’s names. He wanted you cock-dumb and slutty where you could only speak in whines.

When you were cumming for the second time tonight, Shouto decided you were ready. Again, they moved you around since you were useless.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” You asked your boyfriend. Everything was hazy, this time from sex instead of alcohol.

“Nah, I got him,” Kirishima said. That will power of his kept his cock hard and begging for a break. You were surprised he didn’t cum inside you.

His fingers were glossy from their time inside you, and he used that wetness–your wetness–to slick up Shouto’s cock. It was a couple of skilled jerks that slid up Shouto’s length, his large hand wrapping around his girth. He palmed whatever residual was left around his head, and Shouto closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh.

You weren’t expecting Kirishima to suck your boyfriend off before they fucked you, but you also weren’t expecting him to handle him so casually. He did it with such ease, and even Shouto looked comfortable. It was surprising how turned on you were from watching someone else play with Shouto’s cock. A part of you thought they’d look so pretty rubbing against each other, both sleek from spit and cum, but that could be a fantasy for another time.

Facing Shouto, he pushed into you, and you felt the familiar press of his cock. When he was fully seated, he pulled you close–a moment of tenderness throughout this debauchery. “Miss me?” You nodded. He gave you a kiss in return.

His lips caught your gasp as your nails dug into his shoulders as Kirishima positioned himself from behind. At first, he could only fit his head. Shouto’s hand trailed the length of your spine before settling on your hip. His Quirk warmed your tense muscles, and with a groan, both cocks were in.

It felt like minutes where there wasn’t any movement, for fear of cumming first. Kirishima finally broke the sounds of heavy breathing. “A pretty cunt and a nice cock to rub against? Seriously, are you two trying to make me cum first?”

“You can if you want to,” Shouto told him. If he left it at that, you would have laughed. “Our poor girl’s cunt will get messy regardless.” You held onto his unspoken promise of multiple creampies.

As if to encourage him, Shouto even took the lead, moving his hips in long, slow strokes. Your sighs were caught in his collarbones as you buried your head there. The intimacy was almost enough to make Kirishima cum then and there.

“Does it feel good too?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Kiri’s cock, I mean.”

The question earned a low rumble from the man behind you. Shouto paused, before saying an almost embarrassed yes. The tightness, the heat, his cock. It was almost overwhelming in the best possible way. Shouto had never had such an experience. “The piercings are… a nice touch.”

“Nice enough to make you cum?”

Kirishima didn’t care much about hero rankings but the thought of beating a Top Ten hero this way would give him a different sort of pride. 

“We have all night to find out,” Shouto told him.

His statement pulled out something primal and competitive inside them as each man started moving at once. You were so greedy to think that you could handle more; you couldn’t. All you could do was whimper and let yourself give in to the pleasure. Was it really so bad to cum first? Their cocks gave you a fullness that you couldn’t even comprehend as each showered you–and each other–in praise. Their hands were needy and wandering as they searched for the spots that would set you off–your tits, your clit, your neck.

Maybe your mind wandered or maybe this orgasm was finally too much. There were stars in your eyes and that familiar tingling that ran from your toes to your spine as your body shook from Shouto and Kirishima’s touch. Everything felt hot and sensitive after that moment.

But you had little time to wonder what happened exactly as a voice sweetly mocked you. “Exhausted already? But we’ve just begun.”

There were several things that you could attribute to summer: the metallic hum of cicadas buzzing, the smell of fireworks in the night sky, the icy hot comfort of the various wipes you used to keep cool in the humidity. Now you could add another thing to the list–the grating sounds of cameras clicking and reporters asking intrusive questions. 

You were lucky during your first summer with Shouto. A genius villain had threatened to collapse Japan’s education system by giving all students that elusive ‘S’ grade. Newsgroups covered the debacle for nearly half the year. This year wasn’t as eventful, and the Hero Public Safety Commission had arrogantly declared this a summer of peace.

Naturally, less crime meant less work for the pro-heroes, which in turn meant less news to report on. Before getting with Shouto, you never kept up with hero culture, but now it was something you had to be particularly mindful of. You never realized how much the media relied on pro-heroes to keep the masses entertained. When crime was slow, they’d look for any kind of story that would sell.

“Unfortunately, some of us don’t have the luxury of a publicist to coach us on how to react to these kinds of situations,” you snapped–a comment you later apologized for.

The two of you had been stuck on the couch for at least an hour, no thanks to you and your hesitation about tonight.

“I don’t think I can do it, Shou.”

He was patient–god, he was fucking patient–and gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him head on. “Repeat after me,” he implored, “I can do it. I can do it even if I’m a little scared.”

“I can do it,” you sighed, finally giving in. This was his fourth pep talk after all. “I can do it even if I’m a little scared.”

“Good.” His hand trailed from your chin down to the curve of your shoulder. “I knew I could be confident in your ability to take directions well.” Shouto savored the heat of your skin as shyness burned across your body.

“But still!” You pulled back from his touch, much to Shouto’s annoyance. He huffed before leaning back into his seat, crossing his arms. “Even if we go out tonight, what makes you think that people won’t recognize you?”

Sporting a shorter cut that made his bangs fall just short of his brows and feather perfectly along his cheeks, Shouto’s hair brought more attention to his face. Anyone could fall in love with one look into his eyes. His chiseled jaw was left bare. From behind, you could see the thickness of his neck, tucked in-between broad shoulders. You weren’t sure if you should hate or thank his hairstylist.

It wasn’t just his face though. It was his clothes. Even if he weren’t a pro-hero, surely Shouto had enough social awareness to know that people would stare because of what he was wearing. You clicked your tongue. No, he lacked that sort of recognition, or maybe he simply didn’t care.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

His clean, black cotton shirt wrinkled across his chest, pleased to be given a break from having their fibers stretched to their limits. It fit just right, meaning that his biceps bulged while he crossed his arms and pouted. At least his jeans and sneakers weren’t as eye-catching.

Everyone was used to the professional dressed pro-hero or seeing Shouto in a suit as he made publicity rounds across Japan. You might not keep up with hero culture, but you knew how the minds of the thirsty worked–they’d go absolutely feral if they saw him in casual wear.

“I shouldn’t expect much out of someone who uses his actual first name as his pro-hero identity.” You shook your head. “But that’s why I love you, isn’t it? You’ve always been yourself.”

He hummed in deep thought. “I love you too, and well, if anyone asks, I’ll say that I’m not Shouto Todoroki.”

Blowing a puff of air, you gave him a disbelieving ‘As if!’ Shouto who said thank you every time a grandma stopped to call him handsome? Shouto who showed off his quirk any time a child asked, just to make them happy? There was no way he could do that.

He wasn’t finished with his plan as he continued. “Better yet, I’ll tell them that my name isn’t important.” He winked.

You wondered who had taught him that. Was it Sero or Kaminari?

“They can refer to me in the media as your boyfriend.”

No one had taught him that, you decided. He grew cheekier every day you spent together.

Your embarrassment traveled down to your hand as you playfully pushed Shouto, an insignificant detail that made him smile. He was proud that he could still make you feel this way even though the honeymoon stage of the relationship was over.

Grabbing your hand before you could pull away again, he asked you, “Shall we?”

–

“Aren’t you nervous?”

Various friends had asked you that through texts or whenever you met up. After all, the tabloids were running wild this summer. One gossip rag claimed that Bakugou was a virgin, which in turn led to news outlets covering the ensuing libel case. Another claimed that the principal of U.A., Nezu was a nepo baby because he was a relative of one Mr. Charles Entertainment Cheese. There was a wild debate on if that counted as nepotism if they were in different fields.

With Shouto rising the ranks each quarter, it was inevitable that the media would be interested in him, and by association, you. Along with his PR team, Shouto was trying to craft the best way to publicly announce your relationship but while still protecting your normal life as a citizen.

“No,” you’d laugh it off and lie. “I’m too boring for them. Besides, what could they possibly say or photograph me doing?”

“Right,” they’d nod their heads in agreement. “It’s not like they could catch you in a totally vulnerable position while out in public.”

Unfortunately, there was one very glaring and obvious vulnerable position they could catch you in, and unfortunately again, that situation was deeply entwined with celebrating summer.

–

Smoke and the tempting smell of food guided you towards the festival grounds better than your map ever could. Grilled meats greeted you first as workers fanned the flames of their grills and quickly handed out skewers, only to be replaced just as quickly. After those stalls were the usual festival fanfare: takoyaki, okonomiyaki, and grilled corn. 

Like you, the other festival goers were too absorbed in the atmosphere to take notice of anyone else. Aside from the food, various games and wares were taking their attention.

“Not so bad, right?” Shouto commented. Putting on a hat and mask at the last minute also helped.

Ever mindful, Shouto watched your reaction to everything you encountered since leaving your apartment. Neither of you said it out loud, but tonight was a big moment for you both. There was a possibility that your relationship could be revealed to the public. You had to be careful.

Tugging you towards a different area, you wondered what he could have been so excited to show you. You passed game stalls that had stuffed animals and goldfish as prizes. You walked past a line of artisanal ceramics.

To your surprise, bright lights and foreign mascots greeted you instead. American style burgs, Korean corn dogs, and other foreign eats lined the small lane.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Shouto asked, chest puffed up with pride.

He was referring to the corn dogs of course, in all their diced potato-coated glory. Referring to the corn dogs, in all of their diced potato-coated glory. During a particularly long mission, you were bored and spammed his phone with different pictures and videos of the food, going so far as bookmarking several places you could try them at.

Differing from its American counterpart, the Korean style corn dogs had a lighter batter, making it crispier. You weren’t sure of what was more intriguing–the different cheeses you could add or the different things you could coat it in. Seeing and smelling them in person had you drooling.

You needed to be strong though. Anyone could be a reporter or photographer nowadays. You wouldn’t know any better unless they approached you. You doubted you could hear any camera clicks with all this noise too.

Swallowing, you lied. “No, I think I want some karaage instead.”

Shouto did his best to hide disappointment. He was looking forward to seeing your face light up at that first bite.

Heading to the nearest karaage stall, Shouto wondered if you were feeling self-conscious. He thought that you were perfect as you were, but you’d been anxious all summer. He couldn’t know with certainty what you were feeling. Just last week, Selkie was sad after a news anchor called his skin lackluster and dry because of the weather. Shouto wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t told him. Were you putting on a brave face too? 

–

After sharing some of that delicious fried chicken, Shouto could easily predict what would come next. That was the beauty of knowing someone so well. His hand was already pushing in the right direction towards something sweet as you checked your phone.

Tonight was running more smoothly than expected. The fireworks would start in about an hour. There weren’t suspicious people in the area. After the show, you and Shouto could go home and cuddle.

“S’not fair, Mama!” A child whined from atop his father’s shoulders. “Let Dada have one more. Please!” His ice cream haphazardly swayed as he pleaded with his mother.

“Kenta, sweetie,” his mom tried to say in her gentlest voice, “you might not understand because you’re still a kid, but Dada had three ice cream cones already. He’s gonna have a tummy ache if he eats another one.”

Her partner failed to disagree, quipping, “C’mon, babe! You heard the little guy.”

Shouto thought you had finally gone back to normal. Maybe he was being too sensitive and cautious about your feelings earlier.

“B-but Mama, Dada’s been good today.” Kenta listed off the things his father had done so far. “He got us food, and he put me on his shoulders so I can be real big and see!” His arms made a show of depicting how tall he was now.

And in doing so, Kenta’s ice cream fell on Shouto’s head.

Already hearing Kenta’s sniffles, his dad cooed that it was okay. It was an accident, but he needed to apologize. Meanwhile, his mom already started apologizing on behalf of all of them.

“It’s fine,” Shouto said, ice cream dripping down his hat and falling to the ground. You and her exchanged a look. No, it wasn’t fine.

“Really,” he tried to reassure you both. “There’s a convenience store just outside of here. And how about another cone to replace the one that fell?” Conveniently, the exchange happened in front of another soft serve stall. 

Kenta nodded his head in excitement, promising to be more careful this time. His father set him on the ground to prevent other people’s heads and hats from getting ruined by his son.

“Now kiddo, what do you say?”

With ice cream dripping down his chin and onto his hand, Kenta grinned. “Thanks Shouto! This is why you’re my hero.”

You and Shouto froze. Leave it to a child to point out something that you were trying to hide.

His parents scrutinized Shouto more closely. The hat and mask covered most things, but it couldn’t have been anyone else when they saw his scar. “Pro-hero Shouto?”

Their questioning caught the attention of others.

Grabbing your hand, Shouto said in the politest of ways, “No, I think you’re mistaken. Bye now.”

In the rush, his hat got lost to the crowd, making it more obvious that he was lying. You were too distracted by the whispers of his name to wonder how his hair and clothes didn’t get ruined while Shouto focused on getting you out there.

“You okay?” He asked, slightly out of breath as you crossed into Family Mart.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you wheezed, trying to breathe normally.

Straightening out your clothes, you said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of our date, huh? It was nice while it lasted at least.”

Looking outside, he told you, “It might not be the best view, but we can catch the fireworks from that bench over there.” He pointed towards a spot a few meters away that was just off the main street. 

“Great,” you said, browsing the drink aisle, grabbing something for both of you to share. You grabbed some wipes too, in case Shouto felt sticky.

At the register, a popsicle slid in with your other items.

“What?” Shouto asked innocently. “Isn’t this your favorite?” He leaned over you to tap his card on the reader. “Besides, I’m paying for it anyway.”

–

Taneo truly was blessed by the heavens with fortune like this. The only reason why he came to this festival was to cover their unique culinary delights. While looking for ice cream, Kenta had stopped him, telling him to go to a specific booth.

“That place is the best,” he argued, “because Shouto got me ice cream from there. It was tasty!”

“Todoroki Shouto?” Taneo clarified, journalist mode activating. Because of the slow season, any pro-hero stories were hot, but stories about the Todoroki Shouto would be especially tantalizing.

“I guess,” Kenta shrugged. How was he supposed to know what Shouto’s surname was? He was only six.

“Yeah, he got me ice cream even though he was on a date,” Kenta told him, not understanding the value of the information he shared. Taneo was already drafting titles in his head. So far “Too Hot to Stay Single, Who’s the Mysterious Person that has Melted Shouto’s Heart?” was his favorite. “That’s what Mama and Dada said at least. They said that when you don’t have kids, you can do whatever you want, like hold hands and go on dates whenever.”

“Kenta, dude!” His father groaned. “You just can’t repeat everything we tell you.” 

Meanwhile his mother hoped that the conversation would end soon, in case Kenta would share more personal secrets about his family.

“Oh really? They were holding hands?” Taneo said, straightening up from his stooped position while talking to Kenta. “Well, that’s okay for them to do since they’re both adults.” Despite that, Kenta made a face.

He pointed in the direction that you had left in. “And you said that you saw them go this way, right?”

Kenta’s mom nodded. “They mentioned something about a convenience store.”

“Thanks for the scoop, kid,” Taneo grinned. “You too, mom and dad!”

He could already hear Juzo News’ editor-in-chief singing praises about this juicy story. 

–

“Do you really not want it?” Shouto asked as you settled on the bench. His guess was correct. You’d still be able to see most of the fireworks from here. 

“Really,” you said, handing it to him.

The corn dog you could resist, but the popsicle? Nothing sounded more refreshing than its cherry coolness on your tongue. Your escape from the main grounds of the festival had left you parched, and you didn’t think any of the drinks could satisfy you the way your favorite summer treat could, especially in this humidity.

“Has anything been bothering you today?” He asked bluntly.

Food was how you showed your love, insisting on the first date that that was how people were truly able to connect with each other. Your blatant rejection of two food items that Shouto brought you meant that something was wrong.

You paused, your drink hissing as you left it half-turned. Were you that obvious? He gave you that look with his eyes.

“Yeah,” you finally confessed. “It’s just that…” You finished taking the cap off your soda, taking a sip for courage. “It’s so dumb. It sounds even worse when I say it out loud.”

“It can’t be that bad,” he reassured you but didn’t press you further. He already thought of counters to any insecurity that you might have. You were gorgeous. You were smart. He wasn’t worthy of you. If you were worried about the media, he knew that he could ask for favors to manage that too.

“I’m self-conscious about putting phallic-shaped things in my mouth.”

“Huh?”

Your voice went up a pitch as you stumbled on your words, heat radiating from your body. “It’s dumb! I know, I know. But I can’t stop thinking about the face I make! And what if someone takes a picture of that? I can already see it, people making fun of me on the internet. Ugh, and what would they say about you? Shou, I–”

His laughter stopped you mid-panic as he removed his mask to breathe. “I don’t mean to offend you, but was that it?” You nodded, face still hot.

“It doesn’t change how you feel, but I love it when you–”

Your hand covered his mouth as you squeaked, “We’re still in public!”

“–especially when it’s my–”

“I’ll eat it!” You said, hoping he’d quiet down. 

Quickly, you ripped the popsicle from its wrapper, half-melted from your neglect. Cherry red syrup dripped down your hand as you sucked on it. It left a stain on your mouth.

“I can’t stop thinking about that face you make now too,” Shouto said amusedly.

“Really?” You challenged, pointing the half-eaten popsicle at him. “You try doing this, knowing that someone could see you.”

His dichromatic eyes never left yours as he took it completely, using a combination of suction and his tongue to play with it. Artificial sweetness flooded his mouth as his lips were left cherry-stained. Taking advantage of your surprise, he pushed the stick from his mouth to lap at the syrup that ran down your hand, making sure to peck away at any redness.

“Show off,” you mumbled as you met him in a kiss. It was the only way that you could get rid of the popsicle stains.

–

Admittedly, it took Taneo longer to find Shouto than he’d like. He’d almost given up on it too until he spotted you two on a bench. His days of photographing for a paycheck were long gone as he focused more on journalism. Still, he knew a good shot when he saw one. His eyes zoomed in, waiting for an opportune moment before turning away to let the photograph develop. He just hoped that you two would still be there.

When he checked again, the fireworks were nearly over, smoke trailing up the sky.

“Shouto!” He called out from a safe distance. When the pro-hero didn’t react, he dared to venture closer, holding up his hands in front of him as a gesture of good faith.

“Do you know him?” You asked, not recognizing the strange man.

He shook his head. “He doesn’t seem trustworthy though.”

“Guess you don’t remember me,” Taneo laughed. “Figures. It’s been over a decade since we last met in person. I visited your dorm back in your U.A. days to do a report after the Kamino Incident.” 

When he received a blank stare, he laughed–nervously this time. “Oh, you really don’t remember, do you?”

“Is there something you need?” Shouto asked, taking care to step in front of you.

Taneo clicked his tongue. “Right, right. I should have opened up with that first. Here–” he said, shoving something into his hands. You peered around Shouto to see it.

It was a picture of you and Shouto laughing on the bench, his body was turned towards yours as you squeezed his hand. You had just broken apart from your make out session, finally laughing at the absurdity of today.

“I followed you here in hopes of reporting on something interesting,” he admitted. You and Shouto stiffened. “But the shot was too good. The lighting, the mood. You could really feel the love between you. So keep it. That picture’s yours.”

“You’re not going to expose our relationship?” You asked, still cautious.

He shrugged. “Nah. Call it a change of heart, or if you can’t believe that, then know that I’m too professional to report on such low-hanging news. This wasn’t the story I originally came for anyway.”

Shouto held onto the photograph as if he feared that Taneo was lying.

“Oh, and before I go, here’s a suggestion. It might be easier to announce your relationship on your own terms and time.” 

He grinned. “And if you decide on that, would you mind giving me a call?” He tucked his business card beneath the photo and Shouto’s thumb.