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#the beginning of bat mom
hello-eden · 1 month
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Someone mentioned trans! Talia and it has given me ideas. I might write this in the future but here are just my ideas. This is a sub Au of my Danny! Talia. So it is not at all Canon but if you were wondering Danny is more gender fluid in my og au, though I have not brought it up. 
I like the idea that Damien still calls Danny mom. The term in my brain is not gendered for me.
no one to really talk about Talia around Damien at the beginning. In less he brings his mom up, so no one really realizes that Damian uses he/him pronouns for Thalia.
Danny more uses Talia as an alias as a way to dissociate that as a dead name.
ras is probably not super Progressive so this would be definitely kept more Under Wraps so Bruce has no idea.  Bruce left before Danny could say anything.
Danny has binders and has definitely cut their hair but uses extensions or wigs when they're around Ras and maybe even Bruce.
Jason definitely met Talia while they were going around as Danny. Talia uses Danny as a way to surveil Jason's Missions with the league with him not knowing.
Damian has definitely gone around Gotham with Danny in Plainview of the bat family but they have no idea because they have no idea to look out for that.
Someone makes a joke about Bruce having tension with some of his female villains and Damian mentions that he has some tension with the male ones too. Damian obviously means their mother but no one has any idea of that so everyone is trying to figure out what Damian means. I think Damien would say it in a sort of tone that makes it seem like it was obvious and then just walk away so no one really gets any answers.
 Damien would have no idea that it's something not widely known because Danny never really concealed it. In my AU for Danny! Talia I have Sam and Tucker running around as Danny's right hand man. Damian mostly being raised with people that Danny knows won't betray them so they never really had to censor their words. I also Imagine That Damian doesn't really understand gender as a concept until later as a result of this. I don't mean it in a bad way because he always asks what pronouns people use and then just continues on. The bat family has no idea what causes this in the beginning.
I'm just imagining a little 10-year-old Damien going up to Tim asking his pronouns and then  threatening him but using the proper pronouns.
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augustinewrites · 9 months
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once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—
“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”
“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.” 
she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious. 
then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.” 
“thanks,” you grin, following her inside. 
“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”
“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.” 
“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”
you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”
shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”
“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”
“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.” 
you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.
“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”
“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab. 
_____
“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”
“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains. 
“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”
you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”
“what? of course not—”
“then who’s megumi?”
“he is toji’s six year son!”
your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet. 
toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”
“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”
“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?
“his sister too.” 
“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door. 
satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”
“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.
“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”
he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest. 
though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship. 
but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…
“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. 
“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”
you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment. 
so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”
“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”
“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”
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togrowoldinv · 2 months
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Love and Baseball
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
You help coach a little league baseball team and meet the most perfect woman
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (W receiving), simping
Note: I have missed writing for Wanda. Enjoy this one!
Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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Wanda didn’t mean to fall for you. And she really didn’t even realize she had until she saw you with someone else.
Her twins are on the baseball team you help coach. Your nephew is one of the players, so when they needed another coach you jumped in to help.
The moment she met you Wanda knew she was attracted to you. But she tried to fight it. You’re younger than her. Enough so, she’s pretty sure you never think twice about her.
Little does she know that you find yourself thinking about her all the time. That sweet, innocent single mom of two of your favorite players.
Yes, all coaches have favorites. And Billy and Tommy are two of yours. Maybe because their mom is adorable. Every week she brings snacks and makes sure all of the kids have water.
Tonight, for the first time you see her outside of the baseball field. You internally cringe when you see her walking into the restaurant you’re at. You’re kind of on a date.
She catches your eye from by the door. She’s too polite not to come and say hello once she’s been shown to her seat.
“Y/n, hi,” Wanda greets you.
“Hey, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say. Keeping it professional is a curtesy to her, but really you just love the way she looks at you after you’ve said it.
“Are you enjoying your night off?” She asks.
“Yes ma’am,” you reply. “Just on a date here.”
“Oh, my apologies for interrupting!” Wanda says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes ma’am. Tomorrow night back on the diamond.”
“See you then,” she says, leaving you with a smile.
You turn back to your date and don’t see that Wanda’s smile turns into a frown for the rest of the night. She gets distracted watching you have a good time. Wanda wants to be the person across from you making you laugh.
She realizes she wants you.
The next day Wanda dresses in a shirt that’s a little too low cut for a baseball practice. She surprises herself with how much she wants to go after you.
Practice goes as usual, but afterwards you notice Wanda is lingering. She even sends her boys home with a friend.
You’re kneeling on the ground picking up equipment when she approaches you.
“Could I speak to you for a moment?” Wanda asks.
“Yeah, no problem,” you say, standing up to meet her level. Your eyes do cut to the skin revealed by her shirt. “Is everything okay? Boys good?”
“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine,” she says. “It’s just- well-“ Wanda begins. You have no idea where she’s going with this. “My church is starting an adult softball league and I have absolutely no idea how to play.”
You’re sure she’s lying by the way her eyes don’t quite meet yours. But you don’t care.
“Ah okay,” you say. “You need some lessons from Coach Y/n?”
Wanda blushes. “Yes please.”
“Of course. Anything for you, Mrs. Maximoff. Let’s get started.”
You and Wanda walk to home plate to together. All you have is a child’s bat but it’ll do for her to learn the basic movements.
“Let’s see you swing,” you say.
You take a step back and watch Wanda use the worst form you’ve ever seen. No way she’s that bad at it. You hold back a chuckle.
“That was bad wasn’t it?” She asks. You don’t say yes but you don’t say no either. “I’m helpless.”
“No, no. You can do this, Mrs. Maximoff.”
“You know you can call me Wanda,” she says.
“I could, but why would I want to when you blush every time I call you Mrs. Maximoff?” You tease her.
That really makes her blush. You step behind her and help her grip the bat better. Your front presses against her back and Wanda feels a sensation in her entire body.
“Try it this way,” you tell her.
You wrap your hands around hers on the bat and swing together. It’s much better this time.
“That’s it, Mrs. Maximoff!” You say. “Let me get some balls and you can actually hit some.”
“Wait,” she says before you can move.
“Yeah?”
“Um- show me again?”
Instead of doing that, you put your hands on her waist and turn her around to face you. You keep your hands there tightly.
“You know if you want to be close to me, you could just ask,” you say, hoping you read this right.
By the way her breath hitches, you read this completely right.
“I- you’re young,” Wanda says.
“So? If you want this, don’t fight it. Mrs. Maximoff, why deny yourself the pleasure?” You grip her waist impossibly tighter. Your chest is practically pressed against hers.
“Because it’s just- it’s not right,” she says.
“Okay,” you say. “We’ll walk away like nothing happened. Or we could go back to my place?”
Her eyes go wide. She had no idea how you wanted her. She wonders how long she’s ignored the signs.
“I have to be home tonight for my boys,” she says. She glances at her watch. “By 8.”
“We’ll go to your place then,” you say. “Come on. Say yes.”
Wanda hesitates, but she nods. You abandon your clean up job follow her to her car. The drive to her house is quiet. You can tell Wanda’s nervous, but you hope she’s actually excited.
You follow her into her house. There’s photos of Wanda and the kids littering the walls. Along with some of friends and other family members.
“Oh, is this you?” You ask her, pointing to a photo of a young girl.
“That’s me,” she answers. “Do you want a drink?”
“Sure,” you say. You sit on the couch while she pours a glass of wine for you. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” Wanda says.
You sit close to her, but you want to be closer. You want to be all over her.
“So, why did you decide to make a move on me today?” You wonder aloud.
Wanda nearly chokes on her drink. “I guess I just- I have been thinking about you for a while.”
“Oh yeah?”
She nods. You set your glass down on the table.
“What have you been thinking about specifically?”
“Um- kissing you,” she says quietly.
You smirk at that. You’ve imagined too what it would feel like to press your lips to hers and run your hands through her hair.
“Wanda,” you say. “Come here.”
You pull her closer to you by the back of her neck and connect your lips. You kiss her hard. Wanda takes a second to catch up, but once she does she settles in.
Her lips part in a gasp and you take full advantage. You deepen the kiss, pushing Wanda back to lie on the couch. You straddle her.
“Y/n,” she mumbles when you move your lips to her neck.
“Relax, baby. Let me make you feel good,” you say.
You move your hands under her shirt and lift the material over her head. You have to withhold a growl at the sight of her bare chest. She’s perfect.
You take one breast in your hand and the other in your mouth. Wanda squirms at the feeling of your mouth on her nipple.
“Oh god,” Wanda groans.
You take off her pants and slip her panties down her legs. She’s dripping wet. You move closer to her pussy, but don’t quite dive in yet.
“Did you imagine this, Mrs. Maximoff? Being all spread out for me?”
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, baby, I did.”
“Fuck yes you did,” you say.
You bury your face between her legs, licking through her folds. You hold her waist down as you eat her out. Wanda keeps her hand on your head as you bring her to her high.
“I’m going to come,” Wanda says through bated breaths. “Fuck.”
“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say against her.
The words and the way you’re making her feel so good makes her come in no time.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” you say. “So good.”
You move from between her legs and Wanda sits up on the couch. She smiles at you lazily and you kiss her softly.
“Shit, it’s 7:45,” Wanda says. “The boys will be home anytime.”
“That’s okay,” you say. You’re wearing a goofy grin. All you wanted was to taste her and you got to do just that.
“But I didn’t get to- you didn’t get to feel as good as I do,” Wanda pouts. You think it’s the cutest thing in the world.
“Hey, that’s alright. Another time? Call me later?” You ask her.
“Oh, yes. I will,” she replies.
You stand up but kiss her once more before you leave. You kiss her in a way that leaves her wanting you more than ever before.
Wanda is definitely looking forward to being with you again. She’s glad she fell for you.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.
Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.
Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.
“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”
“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”
Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.
“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”
“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”
The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”
Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.
When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.
Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.
He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.
He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.
“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…
His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.
Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.
Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.
His new goal?
Find Cassandra Cain.
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luveline · 7 months
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a halloween june baby drabble mom!reader, 1k.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says, closing your door behind him with a resounding click, "you are not gonna believe this."
"Eddie!" 
He spins on his heel, stopped. "Hi." 
Junie looks at him like she hasn't just said his name, little chin tucked toward her neck, hesitant where she stands by her overturned toy box. You laugh from somewhere behind him in the kitchenette as she smiles at him and asks, "Present?" 
"Present!" He agrees, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling as it twists on itself.  "But after dinner, okay?" 
She nods seriously. 
"What, you're not saying hello anymore?" he asks, bending down with an arm extended. "Come say hello to me, lovely girl."  
Junie giggles and races for his legs. "Hello," she says dramatically, almost with the drama of a frustrated teenager. "Kiss." 
He kisses her forehead obediently. She preens under his gentle touch and rubs her soft cheek into his, but the scrub of his stubble is too much for her and she runs away again before he can give her a proper hug. 
"What am I not going to believe?" you ask as he stands straight.
"How beautifully gorgeous you are, for starters." He offers you the plastic bag, shortening the gap between you so he can kiss you chastely in greeting. "How much I adore you." 
You touch a hand to his chest lightly. "Where have you been?" 
He told you he'd be around to see you hours ago, and he's sorry to make you wait. He tells you this, and explains his reason for being late as he slides a hand under the back of your shirt, rubbing at the small of your back. You do your melting thing into his chest like a deflated balloon.
His present pokes out of the bag, but you're not interested. You're not uninterested, you ask him what it is, but when he says he can't show you, you snort and drive your face into his chest. You're more than pleased with him alone. 
Eddie likes that about you. He shows up with presents often (though he doesn't see them as presents as you would, or as Junie does, it's just one of those things, buying stuff for your family), but he could show up empty handed as he does the majority of the time and you wouldn't bat an eyelash. 
Your arms around his neck, twining one of his curls between your fingers. The sensation sends shivers down his arms, his hair standing on end. "I really missed you," you say under your breath, your cheek resting on his shoulder. 
"I really missed you," he says, not because he has to, but because he truly means it. Being away from you is the main torture of his job. "Hard to explain, right? Spent all those years without you and now…" He draws a line down your curved neck with his knuckle, a slow drag. You turn into him like you're hiding, though you don't tell him to stop. "I miss you all the time." 
"Love you," you murmur.
"How awful would it be if I just said ditto?" he asks with a sticky smile. You pinch his waist in warning. "I love you, sweetheart. You know that." 
"Mm," you hum in agreement. "Kinda made me beg for it, though, didn't you?" 
"No I did not." 
"Did too." You sigh with pleasure as he hugs you as tightly as he can, happy to be crushed by his arms. "Rough, mean guy." 
"I love you so much," he says. 
Eddie insists it. He likes to think of it as his happy beginning, you and him together. How lucky he was to fall in love with you, how lucky he was that you did the same with him. Maybe there are universes where you never met, where you take June to start a new life somewhere else, just you and her in Sacramento, or Williamsburg, or Palm Beach. Kind of breaks his heart thinking about it… all those Eddie's without his girls, missing out on the great loves of his life. 
But there's time for them, as there's time for him and you here. "I love you," he says again. 
"I love you too." 
A little while later he takes his mystery present into the living room with Juniee. "Don't look!" he tells you, turning to Junie with a big smile. "It's a costume, okay?" he whispers. "For Halloween." 
"Costume?" she asks too loudly. 
Your laugh is a breathy sound. He throws a quick glare at you from over his shoulder. "You could at least pretend you didn't hear." 
"What's a costume?" Junie asks. 
"Dress up, pretty girl. It's dress up, like your teddy bear costume. Sound fun?" 
She raises her arms. Eddie bunches the sleeves and body of the costume, pushing it gently over her head and needling in her little arms. She's patient for once and he's getting better at dressing her, so it's only a matter of seconds before it's on and velcroed shut around her tummy. 
Eddie pulls up her hood before walking on knees to give you an unhindered view. 
"Oh my gosh." You cross your legs where you're sitting on the couch and lean forward. "Junie, honey, you look so cute!" 
She grits her teeth at you. "Rah!" 
"And so scary!" you breathe, hiding your face behind your hands. 
Eddie beams at Junie and her eight arms, her spider costume pitch black with red eyed baubles on her head. You peek at them between your fingers.
"I'm a 'pider!" 
"Yeah, baby, you're a spider!" you cheer. "She's so smart." 
"Scary!" Junie corrects, holding her hands up like Eddie does when he's telling ghost stories, claws extended. 
"She's Junipider," he says smugly. 
He thought of it before he bought the costume. 
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suppose-i-was-worm · 10 months
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Like A Lamb
**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**
John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.
Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.
He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.
John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.
The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.
How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?
John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.
With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.
The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.
He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.
~~~
Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.
“What do you think it is, Danny?”
He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.
“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”
For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.
The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.
That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.
Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.
“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”
“Adopted?”
“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”
Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.
“Why did he- what made him do that?”
Pandora ruffled his hair.
“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”
~~~
“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”
Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.
“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”
“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”
John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.
He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.
Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?
“Fine. What are the details?”
Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.
“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”
“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”
The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.
As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.
The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.
The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.
This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.
Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.
And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.
“Hi.”
The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.
“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”
Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.
“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”
“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”
Bless Diana.
“Can you leave the circle, young one?”
The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.
“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”
John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?
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After developing the ability to trap ghosts in pocket dimensions where they can feed thier obsessions without bothering him, Danny and co begin to grow bored and explore the Infinite Realms.
Danny had always known he was a clone, with his earliest memory having been being kidnapped from the lab he was made in -via people he still didn't know to this day-and shoved through a mysterious blue portal before being found by the Fentons. Danny accepted he didn't know who his biological parent or parents were and probably never will.
Thats why he was even more shocked than his friends when they went to a place called Gotham and met someone who looked like an older (or in damians case: younger) version of Danny.
Now Danny had a few options for a response. Sure he and his friends could just run but where's the fun in that? He could:
1. Give them a tearful look and say "Dad? Is that really you?"
This can also be said as mom in case of Cass or Selina
This is funniest if its said to either Tim or Damian because Danny is like 15 in this and Tim isn't that much older than Dannys appearent age and Damian looks younger than him
2. Stare at them and say, "Oh, you're the person I was cloned from?" And act like everything's normal. Maybe ask if they need an organ and if thats why they tracked him down.
3. Ignore it and act like its a coincidence they look exactly the same.
4. Act scared of them. Maybe beg them to not kill him for added dramatic affect
5. Ask if they like dogs and shove Cujo into thier arms before they can answer.
They suddenly get rapid fire sniffs and then a torrent of puppy kisses.
6. Panic and trap them in a pocket dimension like the ghosts and have to figure out how to get them out before they get in trouble. Maybe its too late and they have to get them out while dodging bats
7. Try to convince them they're hallucinating
8. Just let them sneakily take a sample of his DNA just to see what happens. Dont even acknowledge the clone thing. Even if presented with the dna tests, Deny, Deny, Deny.
9. Convince them they and the others knew about him for years and that they're memories may have been altered. Escape when their guard is down/they're not looking.
10. Pineapple. Not really sure how that will help but now there's pineapples everywhere. Danny might be hungry if he's teleporting fruit into his vicinity from just a thought, but that may also be because he's suddenly developing teleportation powers.
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shawnxstyles · 11 months
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panty stealer 2
DATE: JULY 12, 2023
summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.
requested: so many times yes!
words: 11.2k!! woah
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff
note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again
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so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.
he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.
was that dramatic? maybe.
you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.
peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.
every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.
and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.
peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.
in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.
not much of a treat, huh?
outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.
flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.
knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.
you were becoming important to him, a priority.
he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.
ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.
the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.
after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.
like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.
for you.
peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.
you have got to be fucking joking.
your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.
god, he wanted to touch you so bad.
he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—
“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”
well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.
using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.
without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.
peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.
he came back.
“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”
“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.
“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.
“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”
“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.
“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.
“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”
peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.
“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.
“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.
“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”
close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.
his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.
who is peter parker?
fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.
“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.
“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.
your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.
“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.
your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.
without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.
although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.
peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.
“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.
“y/n.”
“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.
“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?
“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.
“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”
your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.
“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.
a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?
you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”
“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”
“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.
how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?
“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.
no time for beating around the bush.
“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.
“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.
“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.
“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.
“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”
“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.
he must live at the gym.
“you started talking about sex first!”
he’s not wrong.
“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”
your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.
“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”
just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.
“you have to go, don’t you?”
“i’m sorry—”
“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.
he is obsessed with kissing you.
however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.
“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”
you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.
a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.
“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.
ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.
you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.
not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.
“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.
you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…
“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.
you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.
those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.
you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.
you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.
at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.
you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.
without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.
violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.
“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”
“what? who said anything about a guy?”
“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”
“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.
“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.
not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.
“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.
“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”
“but the party is in–”
“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”
for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.
your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).
and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.
you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.
you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.
violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.
however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.
she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.
“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”
“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.
you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.
peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.
he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.
why would you?
peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?
you were moaning his name.
he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.
open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.
god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.
like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.
taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.
is that you? how did he miss you?
moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.
but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.
he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.
releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.
he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.
even though that’s all he really wants.
“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.
he nearly faints when he sees your costume.
short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.
maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…
“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.
“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”
there’s no dancing around it.
now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.
“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”
peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.
“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.
“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”
“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.
“you’re such an idiot.”
“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”
“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.
“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”
“superman is a great superhero—”
“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.
“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.
“nothing,” peter shrugs.
“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”
“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”
“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.
and just like that he’s in control.
“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.
“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.
“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.
“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.
“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.
following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.
but tonight everything is different.
unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.
looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.
peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.
he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.
“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.
“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.
“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”
“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”
“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”
“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.
“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”
“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.
why was it so much easier when he broke in?
he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.
“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.
“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.
“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.
“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.
“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.
when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.
your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.
you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.
when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.
“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”
just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?
after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.
“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.
“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.
so why are you nervous?
but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”
after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.
his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.
trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.
“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”
you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.
lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.
“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.
“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.
a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”
with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.
“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”
you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.
but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?
“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.
“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.
“do you care if i rip them?”
“what?”
“can i rip them?”
“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”
“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”
you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.
“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.
peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.
his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.
“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”
“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.
“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”
“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.
“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.
“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.
you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.
your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.
his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.
you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.
“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”
“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”
so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.
he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?
“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.
“yeah, just… thinking.”
“good or bad?”
“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.
“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.
“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”
you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.
“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.
“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?
“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”
“don’t think you’re really capable.”
“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.
as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.
you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.
“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.
“i-i can’t,” you whine.
“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,
“it’s too hard.”
“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”
peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.
“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”
you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.
“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”
“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.
before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.
he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.
the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.
peter hoped the same thing.
“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.
“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”
“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.
“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”
peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.
“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…
for another time.
his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.
“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.
“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”
“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”
“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”
“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”
the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.
peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.
“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.
“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”
“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.
“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.
“i would–”
“oh, there’s a but coming.”
“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.
he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.
peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.
once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.
“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”
although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.
his girl.
“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”
“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”
he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.
“what are you doing? come on!”
“what if they see me?”
“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.
it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.
you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.
you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.
“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.
“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”
“definitely.”
“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”
“uh… yeah. sorry.”
“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.
you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.
even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.
“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”
“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.
“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?
peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.
“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”
“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.
“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”
your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”
and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?
within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.
“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.
“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.
when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.
as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.
your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!
is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.
when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.
wait… love?
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.
note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!
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stealingyourbones · 6 months
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Submitted Prompts #144
*shakes a bag of bird skulls I found in the woodsI and places it on your desk like it's a bag of gold*
I had an idea:
What if the Fenton parents are, in fact very competent Hunters, but they love their children more than their work?
Say the first shot Maddie ever fired at Phanton actually lands, and the scream he makes sounds too much like Danny's voice, to a point even with any ghostly distortion, his own still recognizes the voice.
I can see her pulling Jack to the side, making a ruckus about how the "darn ghost got away just as her blaster ran out of juice". Mostly as a way to get Danny her darling son to leave and go somewhere safe, while his parents have a whole breakdown in the GAV about their dead son.
And so begins the stealthy studies on how Phantom's "human disguise" works, the Revelation of Horrible Truth, keeping tabs on Danny's growth and revising their whole attitude on Ghosts to account for the fact that Danny himself is, at least in some part, a Ghost himself, but all he's done is live his life (and be the little hero Mom always said he'd grow up to be).
Jazz stumbles across his secret and is immediately pulled aside to join the secret "Protect the Baby Ghost" family group chat.
"And what about all the times they shot at him in canon" I hear you ask?
They're damn good shots, but while Maddie can train herself to aim just so that the shot misses just enough it looks like Phantom dodged it, Jack has the Fenton Bazooka outfitted with a tracking HUD that purposely fails to hit everyone's favorite Ghost Boy.
Danny picks up on that, but not on the fact that They Know.
And so begins the single most convoluted training arc ever.
Next time Skulker's in town, Phantom has become untouchable. Not a single shot or electrified net reaches it's target.
(The electrified weapons in particular send the Fentons into a rage when Sam and Tucker finally can't keep hiding it, and come clean about what happened, since the Fentons have proven themselves to be trustworthy)
When Red Huntress comes about, and Valerie Grey becomes barely a distant acquaintance after having only just now started becoming more than a friend, and with the GIW sniffing about, Maddie and Jack pull Danny to sit between them and finally tell him they know, and they want to prove that they'll love him just as much as before, whether Human or Ghost.
Danny breaks down in the safety of his family's love, and takes some time off as Phantom to help his parents establish a proper line of communication with the Ancients, considering they've kinda adopted themselves into the roles of Aunts and Uncles towards their little Ghostling.
Which is a good thing, because in Phantom's absence the GIW make a giant spectacle of destroying several houses while chasing some blob ghosts. They're chased out of town by brick, stone and metal bat.
Next time Red Huntress actually manages to hurt Danny, the Fentons pack up and leave. The Portal can be transported somewhere else. It can be rebuilt.
Their baby boy can't be rebuilt, no matter how much he likes to be a little shit and ignore Reality to quote Shakespeare at his own head (thank you Mr Lancer, for not giving up on him) or "give them a hand".
As Fenton takes the last tour of Amity, Phantom disappears. The Protal has been left seemingly unguarded.
The Ghosts decide to have one last hurrah in Anity Park before Danny closes the Portal, as per their deal. They won't hurt anyone, just cause chaos, but in return Phantom won't stop them. It's not like poor Red has the energy to chase them down, now that she's been "upgraded" into Amity's sole defender (the one time Lancer compares her new lack of sleep to Danny's, horrifying pieces start lining up too well in her mind)
The Fentons move out. Into a quiet farm neighbouring the land that belongs to the delightful couple that are the Kents, and their darling son, little Clark, who stares at Danny mildly horrified whenever he comes by to babysit, or help out with fixing the stubborn tractor. One day under Danny's clever hands, and Jonathan Kent's eagle-eyed gaze, and that damned tractor has never worked so well before. The boy's alright in the old man's eyes, and he makes sure they kid knows it.
After quiet rooftop admissions of one small boy's growing powers (I know Adult Clark is a brick house of a man, but what if he was a little twig while young) and the reveal of Something More Than Human from his honorary older brother, the course of Time sets into it's best version, and an Old Clock smiles, as Superman rises, only to be scolded by Spectre for recklessness.
(Dunno how well it came across, but I'm envisioning Valerie's feelings towards Danny to go from bitter resignation because she " had to" push him away, to horrified despair when the truth starts falling into place. He's her "the one that got away". And it's not like she gave him much of a reason to trust her with his secrets.
Maybe older and wiser Red Huntress gets invited to the Justice League, and has to deal with not just Fenton, but also Phantom flirting with her, after a good long conversation on how dumb they both were as kids, and a mutual vow of "I think I can do better now, and I want to prove it to you")
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smileysuh · 1 year
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ice cold, cabin fever - part 1
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🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."
cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k
🍭 aus. e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...
☀️ mlist + an. so when I tell you I know practically nothing about skiing... also, the recent soop episodes have been giving gyucheol and jihan and I'm dying. I other inspo: 🙂 🙂 🙂 I pls note. this fic has so much dialogue, it exceeds the number of paragraphs allowed in a tumblr post, so it will be split into 2 parts posted at the same time I read the whole thing in one post + the bonus by subscribing to my patreon and clicking here
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Prologue: 
“You guys aren’t going to believe this,” Jeonghan says as he enters the main area of the flat he shares with his brother and two best friends.
Three sets of eyes turn to him, and it’s Joshua who takes a shot in the dark and asks, “Did you get chlamydia again?”
“Aish, fuck off,” Jeonghan picks up a pillow to launch at his brother, “I just got off the phone with mom you idiot.”
“Ouch, since when are you telling mommy about your STI results?” Seungcheol teases, earning himself a pillow as well, that he easily bats out of the air.
“Tell us,” Mingyu urges seriously, “what did your mom say?”
“Only that our new step-sister decided to join us for the destination wedding, super last minute,” Jeonghan explains, taking a seat next to the youngest and sweetest of his friends.
“Did your mom tell her that they already gave up the cabin?” Seungcheol’s heart drops to his stomach, thoughts of powdered snow and skiing swirling on the periphery of his mind.
“Fuck if I know,” Jeonghan shrugs. “She sounds like a bit of a bitch if I’m being honest- sorry Gyu, but it looks like you’ll be giving up your bed.”
“We’re sharing a cabin with her?” The maknae’s jaw drops.
“Well she’s definitely not staying with us,” Joshua stiffens in his seat, “I don’t know what weird step-sibling porn you’re into Gyu, but we’re not that kind of family.”
“Listen,” Seungcheol leans forward, eager to keep the peace, “none of us have met her before- but your mom really likes her dad- let’s just hope she’s as nice as he is… I really doubt she’s a bitch. If it comes down to it, I can give up my bed, there’s a pullout in the cabin too, right? We’ll make it work.”
The glances all four men exchange betray how unsure they all are, and Seungcheol only wishes he was as positive as he makes himself out to be. 
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1: Thursday - Arrival
“Y/n! You made it!” your dad’s excitement should be contagious, but as you haul your suitcase into the lobby of the ski resort, you’re much too exhausted to mirror his attitude.
In fact, you’d bet you look exactly how you feel; done with this vacation before it’s even started.
Despite this, you accept the hug from your dad, trying to relax a little before he lets you go again. “Was your flight very long?”
“Too long,” you sigh, taking a deep breath before returning his question with “and you?”
“Too long,” your dad laughs. “But you can rest easy now, the hard part is over.”
Is it? 
“I’m so excited for you to meet Suelki,” he continues, “and her two sons.” 
“I’m excited too,” you really force a smile this time, trying your best to look sincere.
“Good,” your dad nods, beginning to lead you through the resort. “So listen, this trip is kind of like my honeymoon- so we really don’t expect to be seeing that much of you- Suelki and I have a suite in the actual hotel itself, but I think I mentioned to you over the phone that we booked two of the rustic cabins-”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” your grip on your suitcase handle tightens.
“Because you originally said you wouldn’t be coming, we gave the second cabin up to Suelki’s boys’ roommates- and unfortunately, the entire resort is booked up this week, so we couldn’t get you your own room.”
“Right-” He’d mentioned something along these lines during your quick phonecall when you’d changed your mind about coming on the trip, and you’re eager to see what fix he has for this.
“Each cabin had a pullout though, so you’ll be staying in one of them, and whether it’s with Suelki’s boys’ or their friends, I really hope you use this trip to get to know your new step brothers.”
Your mouth feels dry, heart jittering in your chest at the concept of sharing a cabin for a week with two boys- 
“The wedding is on Saturday,” your dad and you have reached a door leading outside; icy air hits your face when he opens it. “And the cabins you’re looking for are the last two down this road here- cabin 6 and cabin 7. Just follow the string lights-”
“Are you-” you swallow. “You’re not going to take me out to where I’m staying?” You tighten your grip on your heavy luggage, eying the snowy path.
“Sorry darling, but your plane was late, and you’ve arrived at a bad time- Suelki and I have massages scheduled in-” he checks his watch, “ten minutes? I really have to go- but you’re a strong, capable girl, you’ll find the cabins no problem.”
This is exactly the type of behaviour from your father that you’re used to. 
Part of you had expected something to be different- you’d been hoping that the wedding jitters would make him more inclined to be compassionate to you- but it looks like he’s as intent on letting you go about it yourself as he’s ever been.
After your long flight, and now this- you’re really questioning if you should have come on this trip at all.
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2: Thursday - Arrival
“Joshie, come look at this,” Jeonghan urges, holding his tea tighter while gazing out the small cabin window.
“What is it?” his brother sighs, putting down his book but remaining seated on the couch.
“Some girl is dragging her suitcase up the path.” 
He can’t help but snicker. With the road covered in snow for the winter season, accessing the cabins isn’t the easiest task in the world. 
Having been here before, the brothers had packed accordingly, and carrying their duffles had been substantially easier than the struggle Jeonghan is currently witnessing. 
“Oh shit.”
“What?” Now Joshua stands up.
“She’s coming to the door- shit-” Jeonghan pulls away from the window roughly, and hot liquid spills over the edge of his mug, making contact with his fingers. “Shit!” he shakes his hand out-
“Must be the step sister?” Joshua suggests, ignoring the elder man tending to his reddening skin. 
“Must be,” Jeonghan hisses, putting his tea down just as there’s a knock on the door.
The elder of the two takes a seat on the couch, pulling his hoodie sleeve down to cover his hand while Joshua answers the door. 
“Hi-” your voice carries into the small space, and Jeonghan silently urges Joshua to move to the side so he can get a better look at you. “Are you Jeonghan?”
“No, Joshua,” he shifts, allowing you to see into the cabin, “that’s Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan lifts his unharmed hand, wiggling his fingers at you and offering a smile. 
His eyes quickly take you in, assessing your cute outfit- and its lack of weather appropriateness. He finds himself stifling a laugh again, shaking his head to snap himself out of it before saying loudly, “Aren’t you going to let our new step-sister in?”
You look like a bunny entering a wolf’s den, and you stop just past the threshold, allowing the door to be closed behind you.
“I guess you guys know about the cabin situation?” Your first words aren’t something Jeonghan had particularly expected from you-
You’re much more forward than your appearance gives you credit for, and he begins to wonder if his little bunny has teeth. 
“Cabin situation?” Joshua comes to join Jeonghan on the couch, reaching for his book.
“Yeah-” you swallow, “I heard my cabin got given up to two of your friends?”
“Right, that cabin situation,” Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances, and they leave space for you to continue.
“I was thinking,” you shift awkwardly on your feet, a chunk of snow shifts off your boot and onto the wood floor, “uh- you guys aren’t really going to make me share a cabin with two of your friends, right?” 
“What do you mean?” Joshua cocks his head, and Jeonghan leans back in his seat, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him.
“Just that-” you release a deep sigh. “Guys- I’m going to be honest, I’m really tired- is there no possible way one or even both of your friends could- I don’t know… crash in this cabin with you guys?”-  there’s a beat of silence, Jeonghan and Joshua exchange glances - “like, that’s a pullout couch, right? So- at least one could stay here-”
Joshua opens his mouth to respond, but Jeonghan places a hand on his knee to silence him, taking the lead in these new family negotiations; “You might be able to convince one of them to stay here,” he tells you, “but I doubt you’d be more comfortable alone with a strange man you’ve never met, than you would be having two.”
“I mean…” you look between your new step-siblings, “these guys are your friends, right? It’s not like they’re going to- erm… try anything?”
“You’re right,” Jeonghan nods sympathetically, “let’s go over there and you can see which one you prefer to spend a week alone with.”
You shift again, releasing a groan. “I know we just met- but I’ve gotta say, you’re a bit of an asshole, you know that?”
Jeonghan laughs.
“He’s right though,” Joshua sighs. “As unfortunate as it is that your cabin got given up, there’s no chance both of our friends are going to give up their beds to sleep on a pullout in here with us.” He stands up. “I saw you were struggling with your bag earlier- I’ll carry it for you, we can go to the next cabin over and discuss the situation with Cheol and Mingyu-”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” you open the door, holding your suitcase tightly, “I’m a big girl, I’ll handle this myself.”
The new brothers watch you leave the cabin, and then Joshua heads to the window, eyes following you as you trudge down the path back to the main road again. 
“Is she still struggling?” Jeonghan asks.
Joshua lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, then he nods. “She’s really struggling.”
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3: Thursday - Arrival
“Is that your stomach growling?” Cheol groans, distracted from the Christmas film he’s watching for what must be the third time-
“I’m sorry-” Mingyu whines, hand rubbing his tummy in slow circles, “you know how I get when we go skiing-”
“Then eat more at dinner next time,” the elder man snaps, grabbing the remote to turn the sound up in the hopes it will drown out his friend’s stomach, “and make some ramen or something.”
“I’m too lazy, I can’t get up,” the large man sprawled on the couch groans, his voice switching to something more on the girly side when he says “oppa, make me ramen? We can have Netflix and ramen?”
“Aish-” Seungcheol reaches out to bat his friend’s foot.
Mingyu is the baby of their apartment back home, and all three of the men born in 95 try not to make a habit of indulging him in maknae privileges. In fact, Mingyu often ends up being the one who cooks and cleans, but Seungcheol will never admit that to anyone.
“Stop complaining and watch your movie,” Seungcheol urges, eyes returning to the screen, where Jim Carrey’s Grinch is having a similar meltdown to Mingyu’s.
A knock at the door stuns both men, their heads whipping towards the sound- then Mingyu is jumping off the couch, as if he wasn’t just claiming to be a lazy bum less than a minute ago. 
“Who is it?” Cheol groans, leaning back against the pillows, stretching his tired arms out in front of him. 
He’s never going to get through this movie if there keeps being distractions-
“Shh- it’s a girl-” Mingyu’s whispered response is another shock to Cheol’s system, and he suddenly finds himself sitting up in his seat.
“Well, answer the door!” he whispers back.
Mingyu follows through with the command, and a moment later he’s greeting you with a “Hello?”
“Uh, hi? Are you… Cheol?” 
“No,” Mingyu steps to the side, “he is.”
Seungcheol blinks at you, taking you in.
He’s definitely never met you before, so how is it you know his name- 
How is it you know the name that only his friends use?
“Then that makes you… Mingyu?” 
You’re not even looking at Seungcheol anymore, your eyes have slipped over him and returned to the large man in front of you faster than Cheol can even clock-
“That’s right,” Mingyu nods, then, “wait! You must be the step-sister!”
“That’s me,” you sigh. “The step-sister.”
“Come in,” Mingyu urges you, “and let me take your bag, I bet you’re tired from your flight-”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes, setting the remote down. It’s unlikely he’ll be returning to the movie anytime soon, and he supposes he should be friendly with you- despite his exhaustion from a long day on the slopes.
“Did you drag your suitcase all the way through the snow?” Mingyu asks, blatantly bewildered at your behavior. 
“Uh huh,” you nod, closing the door behind you and reaching down to take off your boots.
“No one helped you?” Mingyu’s tone makes the whole thing seem like blasphemy, and Cheol watches the way he fusses over you, setting your bag at the foot of his bed before rushing to help you take off your jacket-
“No one,” you confirm. “Joshua offered, but- I managed by myself, like always.”
“So you stopped at the other cabin first?” Seungcheol confirms, “Met Hannie and Josh-”
Your eyes meet, and then Seungcheol finds himself looking at your lips-
“Yeah,” you tear your gaze away, turning to Mingyu when you explain, “wanted to talk with them about bed arrangements first-”
“You can have mine,” Mingyu offers, flashing you an earnest smile.
“Really?” your eyes widen, and you look between the two men again. “You’re not uh… too big for it?”
Seungcheol feels like he’s been hit in the chest. 
If you’d had asked your question without looking directly at him, he might have been able to convince himself you weren’t insinuating anything- but it’s clear what you’re saying. It’s clear you’re clocking him as being smaller than his younger friend, clear you’re inadvertantly suggesting that as the shorter man - Cheol - should sleep on the couch.
A month ago, Cheol had suggested the very same thing, thinking you’d be some nice girl he could give his bed to.
But now? 
He wouldn’t give you his bed if your life depended on it. 
“It’s okay,” Mingyu is quick to assure you, “you can have my bed. Here, have a seat, we’re watching a Christmas movie-  did your flight serve you dinner? Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” you sigh, collapsing onto the couch, taking the corner Mingyu had inhabited earlier. 
“I’ll make us some ramen,” Mingyu tells you. “Ramen always goes well with Christmas movies.”
Seungcheol notes the way you smile at Mingyu’s words. 
He feels invisible, and most of all, bitter. He’s not happy about any of this, not the way you’d taken a hit at his pride, nor Mingyu’s new burst of energy and overly friendly demeanor.
Picking up the remote again, Seungcheol hits play, and he hopes nothing else sets him off tonight, or he just might explode.
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4: Friday - morning
Waking up is slow at first, and then it hits you all at once. You sit up, clutching the quilt to cover your body while blinking away the last of your drowsiness, eyes acclimatizing to the soft glow of the room.
Sunlight is coming through the cabin shades, and you realize two things very quickly. First, that you’re alone, and second, that you’re not where you’d fallen asleep last night.
After settling in and eating your ramen, you’d gotten comfortable on the couch. The movie hadn’t truly captured your interest, and you’d begun to doze off with the intention of waking up when the film was complete to move to the bed- 
But you have no recollection of being woken up.
You hadn’t even had any dreams. You’d been so exhausted from a day of traveling that you’d blacked out, and now, you’re left with confusion and body aches.
Someone must have carried you to bed- 
You hope it was Mingyu.
When you look down, you see you’re still dressed in your travel outfit, so the first thing you decide to do is explore the small cabin and find the shower.
Part of you is grateful the men you’re rooming with allowed you to sleep. It makes finding a routine easier. You take your time in the shower, allowing yourself to relax a little, and you consider what your day might look like.
You guess the men are on the slopes, as the skis that had been propped next to the door when you’d arrived are gone, and you decide exercise might be exactly what you need.
Besides, you’re at a ski resort, skiing seems like an obvious choice- although you’re not quite sure how it will work, seeing as you haven’t brought your own equipment-
You begin looking around the cabin for a resort map- and you’re so busy looking in all the hard places you almost miss the glaringly obvious piece of paper resting on the coffee table under a set of keys. 
Your heart lurches in your chest. You pocket the keys and open the paper to find it’s the resort pamphlet you’ve been searching for. 
Along with a map of the mountain, someone has taken the time to circle cabin 7, draw a line to the main hotel, and circled another section, which has been labeled ‘ski rentals’ in handwriting that’s just barely legible. 
There’s no other writing to indicate which man has left this for you, so you decide to assume it’s Mingyu.
Cheol had barely talked to you last night. He’d given off cold vibes; a man with walls built up around him. 
You truly can’t imagine that the quiet, brooding man had stopped to write on a map and leave you keys.
And honestly? You don’t want to imagine it.
It’s much safer to identify one of your roommates as a tall, white knight, and the other as a dark entity you’ll have to suffer through for a week. 
It makes it easier to plan on ignoring Cheol. 
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5: Friday - afternoon
Today is a good day for Seungcheol. 
He’d been worried that your arrival would mean babysitting duty, so when you’d slept in and he’d convinced Gyu to leave you be, he’d been nearly ecstatic. 
He’d clocked you as a non-skier the moment you’d arrived without the correct equipment, and despite his day job as a physical trainer, Cheol is not in the mood to be teaching anyone how to do anything.
No, he’s much happier taking the slopes with his best friend. 
Mingyu isn’t as adept with skis as Cheol is, but he’s good enough for the elder not to worry too much about him. 
After tackling a few of the harder slopes, the two men find themselves on a green run. 
It’s enjoyable to take the hill in an easy manner, crisscrossing down the incline, watching the powder fluff up and take air with each harsh turn-
The day is gorgeous-
And then Cheol spots you, and his mood drops instantly.
You’re a couple hundred feet down the mountain from he and Mingyu, and they both stop for a moment, battling the glare from the sun-
“Is that-”
“Y/n,” Seungcheol confirms with a sigh. “First the thing with her bags, now this- it’s like she’s never been to a ski resort before.”
“Maybe she hasn’t,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side, looking thoughtful for a moment. “We should go help her.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “You really think she wants our help?”
“It never hurts to offer,” the younger, more considerate man points out. “Besides, this is Jeonghan and Joshua’s new step-sister, we’re trying to be nice to her, right?”
With a sigh, Seungcheol agrees, and the two continue down the mountain, catching up to you easily. 
“Hello!” Mingyu calls out to you, in classic extroverted Mingyu fashion. This earns him a smile from you, and you stop your slow slope descent to chat.
“Hi Mingyu,” you say, pushing your hair out of your face and adjusting your hat.
You don’t say hello to Seungcheol, and he doesn’t greet you either.
“How’s your day going so far?” Mingyu asks. “Are you enjoying the fresh air?”
“Yeah- found some skis at the rental and I think I’m getting the hang of it,” you tell them, “wasn’t sure I’d be skiing much this trip but, well, here I am.”
“You slept in,” Seungcheol finds himself stating. “We weren’t sure we’d bump into you today.”
“Right…” you trail off, giving Seungcheol a quick once over before your eyes return to Mingyu, and an easy smile works its way across your face again, “Have you been skiing long? I mean, I get the feeling that I’m the only person on the trip who doesn’t have much experience with all of this- you guys all brought your own skis.”
“Yeah, we’re all big snow sports people,” Mingyu tells you. “Seungcheol was actually almost an olympic level snowboarder-”
“Really?” Now you’re looking at Seungcheol. Truly looking at him. “But… you brought skis?”
“He’d be much too fast on his board,” Mingyu grins. “Skis slow him down, make him level with the rest of us. But, he’s still pretty good at skiing too.”
“Could give you a few pointers if you want,” Seungcheol says, earnestly. 
He’d gotten a good look at what you were doing wrong before they approached you, and a few minor tweaks would have you skiing with the best of them-
“Erm, thanks, but no thanks, I think I’m good learning at my own pace for now.” 
He notes the way you avert your eyes, upper lip curling slightly with disdain. 
He should have never bothered to offer you help. 
Seungcheol takes a deep breath. “You two are probably more compatible for your level, and I want to do some harder runs. I’ll see you around.”
And with that, he leaves you and Mingyu, taking off down the mountain at a speed his friends can only dream of.
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6: Friday - evening
It’s been a good day for Mingyu, and settling in for dinner with his friends is the perfect ending for it. They order half the menu, covering the table in all sorts of foods to try together, and it reminds him of their time in university. 
While Mingyu is younger than his friends, he’d entered their frat before they’d graduated, and the bond he has with his older hyungs is truly one born out of a shared love for food. 
“Try this,” Jeonghan insists, and Mingyu opens his mouth before he even gets a good look at what’s about to be fed to him. “It’s good right?”
Mingyu can only nod happily while munching, hand reaching for his beer.
“Where were you guys today?” Joshua asks, “we missed you on the slopes.”
“Did a couple of the harder ones,” Seungcheol responds while the maknae has his mouth full, “then bumped into your step-sister on the easier hill-”
“Oh?” This grabs both Jeonghan and Joshua’s attention. “She was skiing?”
“Badly,” Cheol leans back in his chair, sipping his beer.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Mingyu insists, swallowing his food so he can defend you. “I did a couple runs with her and she wasn’t that bad, really.”
The brothers exchange a glance that Mingyu can’t read. 
He’s always been jealous of how in tune Jeonghan and Joshua are. As ‘irish twins’ - siblings born within the same year - it’s like they can read each other’s minds, and Mingyu always feels like he’s missing some crucial part of the conversation.
“Did you guys sort out the bed situation?” Joshua asks, looking down at the steak he’s cutting. He gives off an air of nonchalance, but Mingyu can tell that this is a topic both brothers are interested in. 
“I think you mentioned giving up your bed when we talked about it a few months ago,” Jeonghan adds, “isn’t that right, Cheol?”
“That was before I met her.”
The brothers exchange a glance, and a smirk works its way onto Jeonghan’s face. “Looks like Gyu got the short end of the straw, huh?”
“I offered her my bed,” Mingyu insists. 
“But she fell asleep on the couch during our Christmas movie,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “I moved her to his bed, wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.”
“My neck is aching,” Mingyu groans, rubbing at it, “but it was worth it. I told her she could have my bed, so she had my bed.”
“He’s so eager to help her out,” Cheol teases, pushing at Mingyu’s shoulder. “When we saw her on the mountain earlier, she refused my help, but was more than happy to ski with him.”
Joshua and Jeonghan exchange a glance that has Mingyu rushing to assure them, “she’s your new step sister- I’m not trying anything, I just want to be friendly-”
“What was that?” Cheol leans closer, “I don’t think I heard you?”
“I said,” Mingyu raises his voice, “she’s their stepsister, and I’m not trying anything!” 
“Perfect, that’s exactly what I thought I heard,” Seungcheol grins, and then he’s looking at something over Mingyu’s shoulder. “Hey Y/N, you should join these three for dinner.”
“Uh…” 
Mingyu turns to find you standing there, and his skin heats with embarrassment. 
He’s pretty sure you’d just heard what he’d loudly said to his friends, and his skin tingles with regret, ears heating-
“Really,” Seungcheol stands, “take my seat, I was just leaving.”
“Where are you headed?” Jeonghan asks, more curious about his friend than his own step-sister.
“The pool.” Cheol grabs the jacket on the back of his chair. “Have some knots in my back, but nothing the hot tub jets can’t fix.”
For the second time today, Mingyu finds himself watching Cheol make a hasty retreat in order to avoid spending time with you. And for the second time today, Mingyu finds himself eagerly attempting to help you fit in, despite his oldest friend’s rejection of you.
“Come eat,” Mingyu urges, patting the newly empty seat next to him. 
“Are you guys sure? I can always eat alone-”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joshua laughs. “You’re one of us now, come sit.”
Mingyu is glad that your step brothers immediately start asking you questions, and for a little while, everything runs smoothly. 
Every minute he spends with you, he warms up more and more to your presence.
It’s obvious to him that yesterday, when you’d arrived, you’d been out of sorts after hours of traveling. Your temperament has improved drastically, and Mingyu finds himself laughing along with his friends at small jokes you make here and there.
The four of you spend a much longer time in the resort restaurant than Mingyu had expected, and it’s only when Jeonghan begins to yawn that you all decide it’s time to head back to your cabins.
The night is cold, but it’s not snowing, and your small group follows the poles of string lights diligently.
Jeonghan and Joshua pull off one stop earlier than your own, wishing you goodnight before heading into their cabin.
As you and Mingyu continue up the path, Mingyu finds you walking closer to him, and he’s surprised when you say “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Carrying me to bed last night,” you respond, “and the map you left on the coffee table, the one with the ski rental circled.”
“Oh, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “that actually wasn’t me. I think it’s Cheol who you have to be thanking.”
“Oh…” 
‘Oh’ is right.
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7: Saturday - morning
When you wake up, you’re struck by two things. First, that you’re alone, as you were when you woke up yesterday. And second, that your father is getting married.
Your body aches when you sit up, muscles screaming at you for having the audacity to ski as long as you had with Mingyu, and you decide pretty quick that another attempt at the slopes is off the table.
You remember what Seungcheol had said yesterday, about the pool and the hott ub, and decide maybe he had the right idea about jets and sore muscles.
He can be an ass, but you suppose he uses his brain sometimes.
You change into your swimsuit, and make sure to layer yourself with comfy sweats and your parka, pool bag in hand before you set out to take on the weather. 
For the billionth time since arriving at this God forsaken cabin, you wish you’d gotten a room in the resort itself. It’s snowed over the night, but the path is somewhat cleared. Even so, the trek to the main hotel is difficult, and your muscles are even more tired when you arrive.
The resort is a ski destination, and you cross your fingers that most of its patrons are on the hills and not utilizing the various pools and saunas. 
Your wish comes true, and you’re pleased to see hardly anyone as you pass through the indoor pool to check out the outdoor areas, intent on having a hot tub to yourself-
As you’re walking along the pool deck, clutching your parka tight around your body, you notice someone swimming. 
He’s underwater, slicing through the pool like a professional swimmer. The glare from the overcast sky makes it impossible to get a great look at the athlete and you settle next to the hot tub, hoping to see more when he comes up for air. 
You’ve just taken off your parka and are wading into the hot tub when the swimmer stops at the edge of the pool. He’s in the shallows now, and he’s able to stand up, his back to you.
Droplets of water glisten down his back in the light, steam immediately beginning to lift off of his skin-
His shoulders and back look like they were crafted by the Gods, and the man runs a hand through his hair, shaking it out of his face.
You just wish he would turn to look at you, so you can see who you’re drooling over-
In no time at all, this wish is coming true, only, you wish it hadn’t, because the moment the gorgeous, well-muscled athlete turns to look at you, you’re locking eyes with your least favourite person on the mountain.
Seungcheol is as taken aback as you are for a moment.
He’d been reaching for the rail to pull himself out of the pool, but now, he’s simply frozen.
You’re practically gawking at each other, and you’re the first to break eye contact, clearing your throat and looking away.
You can feel your skin heating, and it’s not just from the hot tub, which you wish you could simply submerge yourself in and never come back up-
In the periphery of your vision, you see Seungcheol getting out of the pool, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your entire body not to turn and watch him.
Then, to your surprise, he gives you an excuse to look at him, calling out, “The wedding starts at four, don’t be late.”
Your jaw hits the hottub floor, and you watch Seungcheol practically run away from you.
It’s becoming an all too familiar sight. 
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8: Saturday - afternoon
Sitting in his mother’s hotel room, watching her do the final touches on her wedding look, Joshua is struck with memories of the past.
There’d been many mornings growing up where he’d sat on the closed-lid toilet, watching her brush through her hair, sometimes braiding it, before taking him and Jeonghan to school.
In the quiet of their small apartment bathroom, nothing could come between them, not Jeonghan whining for whatever reason, nor the angry father who’d disappeared from the picture when the boys had turned ten.
To Joshua, the moment feels like peace, or at least, as close to it as he’s ever come.
He can tell, by the way his mom smiles when she looks at herself in the mirror, that she’s truly happy, and it’s all he’s ever wanted for her. 
The moment is fleeting, as Jeonghan enters the room and brings with him a certain level of chaos, the kind of windswept mayhem that follows him everywhere, like a moving storm.
“Booze?” The first word to come out of his mouth.
“In the fridge,” Joshua motions to the small cooler before asking his elder brother, “drinking already?”
“Just spent half an hour running all over and making sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to be doing,” Jeonghan sighs, bending down to retrieve a can of beer, cracking it open with nimble fingers.
“You wanted to be the best man,” Joshua points out.
For such a small wedding, consisting of only close family and a few friends, roles hadn’t been a necessity, but Joshua wasn’t aware that scrambling around to make sure people are in place would be necessary either.
“Y/N forgot her shoes at the cabin, so Mingyu ran to get them, but by the time he got there, Seungcheol had apparently realized the heels were needed, so he’d grabbed them- and somehow they’d missed each other in the lobby-” Jeonghan cuts off his own ramblings with a large sip of his drink. 
“Sounds like quite the goose chase,” their mother’s calm voice visibly settles the best man, who takes a seat next to his brother.
“You look amazing,” Jeonghan tells her, as sincere as Joshua’s ever seen him. “Our new step-sister’s dad is a lucky man.”
“Since when did you stop calling him by his name?” Seulki laughs, returning her gaze to the mirror, fixing her veil. “Looks like you’re both getting used to Y/N though, Joshua mentioned that you all had dinner last night. Is she settling in okay?”
“I think so,” Joshua says thoughtfully.
“Mingyu really likes her,” Jeonghan adds.
Joshua nods. “And we do too.”
Their mom gives them a knowing look. “How’s Seungcheol finding his cabinmate? Haven’t you both always said he’s a good judge of character?”
“He’s also a stubborn ass,” Jeonghan grins over the rim of his drink, “so we can’t really trust his opinions on her- besides, any time she’s around, he runs the other way. I doubt they’ve talked much.”
“That’s a shame,” Seulki frowns. “I bumped into her with Mingyu on the slopes yesterday, she seemed really lovely.”
“She is,” Joshua admits. He’d also enjoyed getting to know you last night over food and drinks.
“Well,” Seulki turns to her boys, “let’s just hope Seungcheol warms up to her, but we’ll put that to the side for now, we have a wedding to get to.”
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9: Saturday - evening
The ceremony had gone exactly as planned. 
After the initial goose chase looking for your shoes, there’d only been one or two small details Jeonghan had been forced to attend to. But after it all, his mom had walked down the aisle, vows had been said, and Jeonghan had gained a father figure.
Standing at the alter next to his brother, Jeonghan had watched everything take place with a keen eye.
He’d been pleased to see the three couples invited - his aunt and uncle, and two of your father’s friends with their wives - sitting in the small venue with his roommates. And he’d been even more interested in watching his friends react throughout the service.
Mingyu had gotten teary-eyed the moment Seulki had begun her walk down the aisle, and even Seungcheol had torn his gaze from you for long enough to admire the dress.
When everything was said and done, the small party had moved to a secluded room off the main restaurant to have food, drinks and further celebration. Here, Jeonghan had again noticed Seungcheol’s affinity for having you in his line of sight.
“You know,” Jeonghan says, as he settles into the seat next to his brother, eyes fixed on his muscular friend by the small bar, “for a guy who runs away whenever y/n is around, he spends an awful lot of his time watching our step sister.”
Joshua chuckles, sipping his champagne. “You noticed that too, huh?”
“Hard not to,” Jeonghan grins, following Seungcheol’s gaze to where you’re clinging to Mingyu on the makeshift dance floor. “What do you think about those two?”
“I think Cheol better cut his losses now,” Joshua says, setting his drink down. 
“Really?” Jeonghan cocks his head, considering it all. “We’re only two days into this trip… a lot could happen before the week is done, don’t you think?”
“A lot could happen,” Joshua admits, “especially if someone like you decided to meddle.”
“I never meddle, only… help push things along.”
“In the direction you want it to go.”
“Touche,” Jeonghan lifts his champagne, gently clinking it against his brother’s discarded glass. 
“I think I’m going to go ask y/n to dance,” Joshua says, pushing his chair back and standing.
“Now who’s meddling?” Jeonghan laughs.
“Still only you.”
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10: Sunday - morning
The couch had been uncomfortable on a normal night, so Mingyu supposes it’s his own fault that he wakes up aching after a night of drinking and dancing at the wedding.
Stretching his arms over his head, he tries to ease the tight muscles in his shoulders, but he’s unable to get comfortable again.
He lays there for a few minutes, watching you dance in your cute bridesmaid dress on the back of his eyelids. He’s not sure if it’s you, the dress, or the visual combined, but he knows he’s going to remember last night for many years to come.
When he finally sits up, Mingyu looks towards your bed, and he’s not shocked to find you still sleeping. This is the third day waking up in the same room as you, and Mingyu’s becoming accustomed to the fact that you sleep in longer than he does.
He’s becoming accustomed to your cute, unsuspecting, resting face.
It makes sleeping on the couch worth it, and his sore muscles are almost forgotten- until he has to stand up, and they scream at him again.
Cheol is sitting up in his bed, scrolling through his phone, and he looks up when Mingyu stretches his arms above his head to release his shoulder tension.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Cheol mouths at him.
The two have been scared to even whisper in the mornings - scared to wake you up - and have adopted this silent way of communicating. Mingyu nods quickly, pointing back at his hyung as if to say ‘and you?’
Another quick nod, plus a thumbs up, then Cheol makes the motion of a man shoveling food into his mouth and points to the door.
Mingyu holds up his hand, ‘give me five minutes’ and slowly begins to tiptoe to the bathroom, where he can have some water, fix his hair, and change into better clothes. 
It’s a routine they’ve gotten used to, and for the third day in a row, Mingyu prays that when he exits the bathroom, by some miracle, you’ll be awake and eager to join them in the resort restaurant for breakfast.
Mingyu and Seungcheol - quite predictably - end up weathering the early morning elements without you, and it’s on the snowy path that Mingyu tells Cheol “I think I’m going to skip skiing today.”
“Really?” Seungcheol’s shock is written all over his face.
Mingyu nods. “I feel bad that we’re always ditching y/n- and we mostly go on the slopes she can’t ski on, so… I figured, after breakfast, I'd stay behind at the cabin and wait till she wakes up, then see what she wants to do today.”
There’s a long pause, and then Seungcheol sighs. “I see how it is.”
“Hmm?”
“You also walked her home last night after the dinner. Hannie, Joshie and I stayed up drinking, you usually join, but instead, you walked y/n home.”
“We were both tired,” Mingyu defends himself. “Watched a bit of a movie, then fell asleep.”
“Is that all that happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… part of me wondered if I should have stayed on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch last night, to give you privacy.”
Mingyu’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he fumbles with the hood of his parka. “We didn’t- we aren’t-”
“You guys danced a lot last night, then you walked her home… if it’s not like that then… well, people might get the wrong idea.”
“Who’s people?” Mingyu nearly laughs. “It’s just us here- you think anyone really cared last night?”
“I guess not.” There’s a pause, then Seungcheol changes the topic, asking, “What do you think you’ll have for breakfast today?”
It’s then that Mingyu realizes, someone did care last night, and that someone, is Cheol. 
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11: Sunday - afternoon
You’d been a little shocked to find Mingyu reading on the couch when you’d woken up from your long sleep, but when he’d explained to you that he’d stayed behind from skiing with friends to make sure you had a proper buddy for the day, your heart had melted.
After a slow start, the two of you had decided to rent some snow shoes and use the back slope trails, which is how you end up climbing one of the smaller mountains together.
“We’re almost at the top,” Mingyu tells you, pulling out the trail map provided by the resort. You try to catch your breath while he points to a spot on the paper. “I think we’re about here, so just-” he drags his finger up the green line, “this far to the top.”
“Are you sure?” you laugh, grasping onto his arm to pull yourself closer so you can get a good look at the map.
There’s a pause, then he shakes his head, “No. We could also be sort of lost.” 
“Don’t say that-” you grin, pushing at him, “you’ve been mostly using this map alright- I trust you, and your trail-following capabilities.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t though,” Mingyu insists. “Honestly, following maps is definitely Cheol’s thing. One time, we were on a road trip, and we were going down this road for half an hour before we had to pull over and he got to look at the map- we’d missed a turn and it set us back like two hours-”
“It’s easier to miss a highway turn than a trailhead,” you assure him. “Come on, we said we’d climb this small mountain, and then we can take the lift back down and finish our movie from last night at the cabin- just think about our nice, warm cabin-”
“Nice, warm cabin,” Mingyu nods, folding the map back up to put in the pocket of his parka. “Let’s go, we can do this.”
You watch the large, beautiful man pull away from you and continue your trajectory up, and you can’t help but smile, echoing the sentiment, “we can do this.” 
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12: Sunday - evening
Seungcheol had been surprised to find the cabin empty after skiing, and he’d been even more surprised when he went to the restaurant to find you and Mingyu not there either. 
However, he does find Jeonghan, who informs him that he’d seen you and Mingyu getting snow shoes a few hours ago, and Seungcheol’s heart sinks.
There’s a storm coming, and darkness has already begun to settle in across the resort- 
He hopes, for both your sakes, that you’re not on the top of the mountain, lost in the trails, when the worst of the winter weather hits.
After waiting diligently for his meal order to come through, Seungcheol ends up trekking back to your cabin with food and firewood in hand just as the snow begins to get heavier.
The last thing he expects when he enters your lodging, is to find you sitting there with a minty green facemask on, and for a second, he stands in the doorway just staring at you.
You break eye contact first, calling out “Cheol’s back!” and a moment later, Mingyu comes out of the bathroom, mid-facemask application.
“Cheol!” Mingyu beams, rubbing the green goo against his cheek, “you’re back from skiing!”
“I was back earlier-” Seungcheol closes the door behind him, “stopped here for a bit but you guys weren’t around.”
“We just got back from a snowshoe hike like, twenty minutes ago?” Mingyu tells him, looking at you for confirmation. Seungcheol watches the way you nod at Mingyu, and his friend lights up. This time, when he says “twenty minutes ago,” he says it with confidence.
“Well, I brought food and firewood,” Seungcheol sighs, kicking off his snow boots and entering the small space.
“Firewood?” You’re looking at him again, and Seungcheol can’t find it within himself to meet your eyes while you’re green in the face like this, so instead, he sets the food down and moves to the small cast iron fireplace in the corner.
“Did you think this cabin heats itself?” The question comes out much snarkier than he’d intended, and he regrets it as he begins to build the fire.
“No- I mean, I noticed it was cold when we got in twenty minutes ago- but I don’t know, I sort of assumed that maybe hotel staff would bring the wood and keep the embers going-”
Seungcheol scoffs. Of course another good deed of his would go unappreciated. 
“It’s plausible!” you try to insist.
“I never said anything.”
“You scoffed, you went like-” you mimic the throaty annoyed sound he’d made, “you went like that, a scoff- you scoffed at me!”
“Here’s your dinner,” Seungcheol pushes the bag of takeout towards you across the floor, eyes fixed on the fire he’s still building.
“What if I don’t want your food? What if I want to finish with this mask and go grab food for myself?” 
Seungcheol sighs again. “There’s literally a storm coming in- if you go out, you’re going to get windswept away- just eat the food I brought.”
“What if I don’t like the food you brought?” you insist again, and Seungcheol’s getting real tired of your bratty stubbornness. 
“You will, it’s what you’ve been eating for two nights in a row.”
This finally gets you to open the bag he’d brought, and you remove the three takeout items, eying them. “How did you know I like this?”
“Like I said- you’ve eaten it two nights in a row.”
“Why were you watching?”
“Oh my god,” Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair. “Just say thank you and eat your fucking food while I make this fire so you don’t freeze to death- why does everything have to be so hard with you?”
There’s a long pause, and he hears the sound of a food container opening. 
He’s thankful you’ve finally shut up and are going to eat.
“Even without the fire- this cabin is well insulated enough that we wouldn’t die,” you say after a moment. “The hotel wouldn’t be able to have a cabin where its renters could just die.”
If he hadn’t just lit the fire, Seungcheol might have considered allowing you to test your theory out of spite.
“You always need to have the last word, don’t you, brat?” He stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants before turning to look at you.
You open your mouth to respond- but quickly shrink under his hard gaze.
A moment later, you pick up the remote, and a movie begins to play.
At least in this, Cheol’s gotten the last laugh. 
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13: Monday - morning
“Fuck-” Jeonghan’s cursing does more to wake Joshua up than the knock at their cabin door had, and the younger irish twin goes to cover his ears while Jeonghan stumbles out of bed.
“Who is it?” Joshua groans, giving in and sitting up, squinting at the door that his brother throws open to reveal their eldest friend.
“Are you two really still sleeping?” Seungcheol pushes into the cabin, throwing his gloves down before gruffly kicking off his boots.
“What time is it?” Jeonghan asks, rubbing at his eyes and groaning before running back to nosedive into his bed.
“Late enough that you should both be awake.”
“Y/n’s not awake,” Jeonghan insists, tucking himself back under the covers, “and I don’t see Mingyu anywhere- why do they get a free pass from your bitching but we don’t?”
“Because they’re not my ski buddies today,” Seungcheol says smoothly. “Seriously, what’s up with you two- and why is it so cold in here?”
They all look towards the castiron fire place, and the emptiness of it gives Joshua a chill that he feels tingling through his entire body.
“We thought we had enough firewood to carry us over from the evening and into the night, so neither of us picked up any dry wood from the hotel yesterday-” Joshua begins to explain.
“Evidently you both ran out,” Cheol concludes, scanning the rest of the small space with his precise, all-knowing, eyes. His gaze lingers on the bottle of fireball on the coffee table. “Instead of running to get more wood, you guys took to drinking, huh?”
“It’s not like we were going to cuddle,” Jeonghan groans.
“So you’re both hung over.”
“Just a little,” Joshua sighs, swinging his legs out of his bed. “Give us half an hour and I can be up.”
“It’s funny,” Cheol says, moving to sit on the couch, “I just had a fight with your step-sister last night about whether we’d freeze to death if we forgot firewood- and at the same time, you guys were over here, resorting to fireball instead of an actual fire-”
“It’s not like we could go out and grab wood once we realized we didn’t have enough,” Jeonghan defends himself. “The storm was really bad.”
“And it’s going to be bad for the next few days,” Seungcheol tells them, “so you better get used to grabbing firewood every evening after dinner.”
Both of his friends groan. “Sure, dad,” Jeonghan buries his head in his pillows. “You know what? If you’re going to be like this, maybe I’ll sleep in and not be your ski buddy today.”  
“Mingyu ditched me yesterday, and now you’re ditching me today-” Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “am I really being that much of a dick this vacation?”
It’s Joshua who responds, pointing out, as thoughtfully as he can; “you have been more of a dick than usual.” 
To which Seungcheol replies, “Yeah, well, you guys have been pissing me off more than usual.” 
Except, Joshua knows it’s not necessarily he and Jeonghan who have been pushing Seungcheol’s buttons this trip- but he keeps that to himself. 
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14: Monday - afternoon
After skipping out on skiing with his friend and brother, Jeonghan had gotten some much-needed rest. Then, around lunchtime, he’d left his cabin in search of food only to bump into you and Mingyu doing the same thing.
As if that wasn’t coincidence enough, when your odd trio had entered the resort restaurant, you’d found Joshua and Seungcheol midway through their own meals.
Jeonghan had insisted you all join together, fully intending to meddle with you and your cabin mates. After all, he’d just gotten some sleep, and his mischievous mind was eager to stir the pot.
To his disappointment, the seating arrangements make poking people’s buttons difficult- with Cheol all but ignoring you from his vantage point as far from you as possible.
Despite the less-than-ideal format of your table, Jeonghan still finds a way to draw everyone into the conversation when he states, “so I heard there was a fight over cabin temperature last night.”
This earns Jeonghan a rough kick under the table from Cheol, as well as a harsh look from you. 
“Who said that?” you ask.
“Cheol did,” Jeonghan smiles through the pain in his shin, and this time, when Cheol goes to kick him, a quick movement of his leg has him narrowly avoiding his friend’s boot. “This morning, when he came to pick of Joshie for skiing.”
“It wasn’t a fight,” you go to insist, but the harsh glare you send Seungcheol’s way has Jeonghan nearly laughing.
“Definitely not a fight,” Mingyu confirms, and Jeonghan almost feels bad for the way he’s sat between you and Seungcheol. A man caught between two stormy personalities ready for a clash.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Jeonghan says, “we ran out of wood last night, and we didn’t die.”
You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Well, that’s good to know.” 
“Y/n was saying last night,” Mingyu adds, “that she doubted we’d die without wood- hotel regulations and everything-”
“Was Cheol insisting you’d die without a fire?” Joshua’s eyes have widened, and he leans in, elbows on the table next to Jeonghan’s food. “Cheol? Really?” 
“He was just being dramatic,” you say, and Jeonghan watches the way his friend’s ears turn red at your statement.
“Says the girl who was going to go out in the storm instead of eating the food I brought for her.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. He’s glaring at his plate, and a thick tension blankets the table.
Jeonghan loves it.
But then something happens that he couldn’t possibly predict: your parents enter the restaurant, and before he knows it, you’re hopping up to go say hello to Seulki and your father, leaving the men to deal with the unresolved tension.
“Are you trying to start something?” Seungcheol whispers angrily as soon as you’re out of earshot, his angry gaze fixed on Jeonghan.
“Who, me?” Jeonghan touches his chest, pretending to be the most innocent person in the room. “I was just looking for conversation. Besides, we’re the one’s who forgot firewood last night, it’s quite embarrassing for us.”
“You don’t look embarrassed,” Seungcheol notes, sitting back in his chair.
“He has no shame,” Mingyu adds, nodding sympathetically.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Jeonghan’s grin widens, and he looks over Seungcheol’s shoulder to see you leaving the restaurant. “Now that it’s just us, I suppose I should be a good big brother and figure out which one of you intends to fuck my new step-sister.”
Mingyu had been taking a sip of his drink, and now he’s choking, which only adds to Jeonghan’s delight. 
“Jeonghan,” Joshua’s harsh warning bounces off the elder brother, whose smile is becoming something akin to the Cheshire Cat’s.
“Neither of us are going for your stupid step-sister,” Seungcheol growls, thumping Mingyu on the back to aid with the water caught in his lungs.
“Oh, so you’re both in denial?” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “I’d thought at least Mingyu would fess  up.”
“Fess up to what?” Mingyu says between coughs. “I’m just being nice to her!”
Jeonghan nods. “Sure you are.”
“Why do you all think I want to fuck your stepsister?!” Mingyu whisper screams at his friends, doing a quick look around the restaurant before adding, “you guys are all horrible.”
“Cheol’s been bugging you about this too, huh?” It’s one of the first things Joshua’s really said, and Jeonghan realizes his brother is right. 
“Bet he had a lot to say about the way you danced with our sister at the wedding.”
“Were you all watching that?!” Mingyu’s eyes have widened. 
“It was quite the spectacle,” Jeonghan plays with his glass of water. “Cheol was jealous.”
“What!?” This time, when Seungcheol misses Jeonghan’s shin with his foot, the whole table shakes from impact along the underside of it. “Was not! I didn’t even dance with her- how could I be jealous when I never even danced with your stupid sister-”
“Stop calling her stupid,” Joshua’s harsh tone is a surprise to everyone, and the table goes quiet. “Just because you’re in denial about everything doesn’t mean you get to call our new sister stupid.”
“Someone’s taking their older brother role a little seriously-” Seungcheol lets out a whistle.
“Deflect all you want,” Joshua sighs, “Change the topic and make fun of me, but at the end of the day, you’re only making things harder on yourself… both of you.”
For a moment, both Seungcheol and Mingyu are put on the spot, then Seungcheol insists, “We’re not doing anything.”
“And denial is a river in Egypt,” Joshua sighs, shocking the whole table with a pop culture quote- something that’s very unlike him. “Cheol, you’re done eating, let’s leave these two and get a few more runs in before the storm makes skiing impossible.” 
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15: Monday - evening
Sitting on the floor with your roommates, roasting marshmallows on the fire while the storm rages outside, you find yourself noticing all the small details about them both.
It’s the first night that you’ve actually allowed yourself to take a breath and relax, accepting that, with the extreme weather, there is really nothing else that can be done except to work on enjoying your company.
Mingyu is easy, as you’ve grown accustomed to having him around. You’ve gotten used to his large form, the clumsiness and easy smiles.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is something you’re newly exploring, sneaking glances at his side profile whenever you think he’s fully distracted in his marshmallow making.
Unlike Mingyu, who thrusts his treat into the fire and watches it burn, Seungcheol is meticulous about his food, preferring a spot where his marshmallow can slowly turn golden near the embers.
He’s got a pretty side profile, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw when he focuses, eyes fixed on flames that light his face in pretty hues. 
His nose is also quite striking, and along with his strong brow, his face is altogether quite attractive, something you’ve been fighting yourself on since the moment you entered the cabin and he’d been cold to you.
There’s something about the duality of him that has your heart racing whenever he’s around. 
You’re never sure which Cheol you’re going to get.
You’ve had glimpses of his softer side, especially on your first day when he’d carried you to bed and then left you a map- then there’d been the way he brought you your dress shoes after you’d forgotten to pack them and trekked to the hotel in snow boots on the day of the wedding-
It seems as if Seungcheol is the kind of man who likes to do nice things for you when you’re not watching, but after your small altercation last night, wherein you’d realized he’s also been doing fire duty, you’ve made more of an attempt to notice small things.
 Small things like the way he takes the perfect golden marshmallow out of the fire, places it between two chocolate graham crackers, and hands it to you without a word, giving you the best s’more of the night.
He balances his kindness to you by offering Mingyu the s’more after, and you think he must be doing it as if to say ‘you’re not special, I’ll share with everyone’ but you can’t help but think there might be more to it. 
To your surprise, Mingyu is the first of the three of you to get sleepy, and after a quick washup in the bathroom, he’s collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. 
For the first time since arriving at the cabin, you find yourself truly alone with Seungcheol, no big, human buffer to keep you both in line.
The silence is thick. Even so, in the quiet, Seungcheol gives you wide birth to go wash your face and brush your teeth while he cleans up the few items from your s’mores.
There’s hardly anything to be said, and the two of you find yourselves getting into your own beds in no time at all.
“Turning off the light,” Seungcheol tells you, hand reaching for the lamp chord. 
He pauses, waiting for your curt “okay” before following through with his statement of intent, and the room is captured in darkness.
The wind howls outside, drowning out any sounds of your roommates breathing, and for a little while, you can almost pretend you’re alone. 
Almost. 
In the dark, your mind begins to have all sorts of thoughts, and you surprise yourself when words slip out of you; “I’m sorry for calling you dramatic today.”
The air feels thick and heavy, a few beats of silence passing that almost convince you Seungcheol’s asleep, but then, he responds. “I’m sorry for referring to our disagreement last night as ‘a fight’ when I talked to Jeonghan this morning.” 
“It’s okay,” you say quietly. 
For a short while, you think nothing else is going to be said, but then; “Goodnight y/n.”
You take a breath, wrapping yourself tighter in your blankets. “Goodnight, Cheol.” 
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CONTINUE READING PART 2 HERE I note. the fic was too long to be posted in one tumblr post 🤪
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onlyhuis · 1 year
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daddy's day off (night vers.)
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member — dad!cheol x f reader genre — smut, fluff, parents!au (dad!cheol / mom!reader; husband!cheol / wife!reader) word count — 2.7k synopsis — you and your husband take your newborn daughter on her first vacation. during the day, the pool is hers; at night, it's time for the adults to have a little fun, too. content warnings — female reader, they have a daughter, mentions of gross hotel pool water agsdjfsh smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, reader wears a bikini, breeding, praise, shower sex, unprotected sex and reader is not on birth control!, creampie, talk of kids & pregnancy (duh), nicknames (pretty girl, good girl, my wife, sexy, beautiful, etc you get the idea). please lmk if i missed any! notes — i wrote this bc dilf!svt plagues my mind at all times and i need all of you to suffer with me. @duhnova especially
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“cheollie, we can’t!”
he shushes you, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his giggles. “be quiet, you’ll wake her!”
you cross your arms, scowling at him but lowering your voice. “what if she wakes up while we’re gone?”
“we’ll be so fast, she won’t even have time to think about it. we’ll be right back. ten minutes, tops.” he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer. “c’mon, baby, please?”
he tilts his head and bats his eyelashes at you, the pout on his face wordlessly pleading with you to take his side. 
and of course, you sigh, relenting. “fine. but fast.”
he grins and kisses you on the cheek, jogging into the bathroom to grab towels as you roll your eyes. you glance over at your daughter one more time, sleeping peacefully in the crib you borrowed from the hotel, before walking to your suitcase to unpack your swimsuit. 
the one you’d worn earlier in the day when you’d taken your daughter out to see the pool is still hanging to dry on the sink, a simple one piece with a sun shirt over the top. but tonight, late in the evening where the sun won’t be out and not many people will be around, you’re free to wear your favorite bikini instead. it’s cheol’s favorite bikini, too, and he never fails to make it known how attractive he thinks you look in it.
you pull off your shirt, tying the strings quickly around your neck before slipping the bottoms on too. you hear a low whistle behind you, and you turn to see your husband, dressed in nothing but swim trunks, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
you pretend to glare at him, throwing an old t-shirt on over your swimsuit. "are you just gonna stand there and admire the view or are we gonna go before she wakes up?"
he chuckles, grabbing his shirt from the bed and crossing the room. he slips a hand around your waist and pulls you in, glancing at your eyes before he presses his lips to yours. "always gonna admire how beautiful and sexy my wife is," he says with a grin once he pulls away, and you feel your cheeks begin to heat up.
"cheol…" you whine his name softly, and he groans, holding you tighter.
"don't say my name like that, or we won't even make it downstairs, baby," he says, the familiar look of lust beginning to cloud his eyes.
you humph, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door. "wait til we get home and we can get a babysitter, seungcheol. now hurry!"
he grabs the room key and his phone, along with the baby monitor you insist on taking with you just in case, though the pool is only just down the stairs.
you ease the door to your room shut with a gentle click, waiting for a minute to listen for any noise on the other side. once enough time has passed that you're certain your daughter hadn't been startled by the noise, you breathe out a sigh of relief. but you barely have time to relax, because cheol is pulling you down the stairs, giggling like high schoolers sneaking out to go on a date.
his laughter is contagious, and by the time you reach the gate of the pool your cheeks hurt from smiling and you can barely punch in the entrance code from how out of breath you are.
you drop your stuff on one of the lounge chairs by the edge of the pool, carefully setting everything on top of your towel.
"hey, babe," cheol calls out, and you turn around just in time to see your husband cannonball into the pool. you shriek as water splashes all over the deck, just barely missing you. 
seconds later his face pops up out of the water and he shakes his head, pushing his soaking hair out of his eyes.
"you coming?" he laughs, and you tug your shirt off over your head and toss it to the side before jumping in after him.
you resurface next to him, wiping the water out of your face. the water's not too deep, where you can rest your feet on the bottom without standing up fully.
eventually the ripples from your movement die down, the water gently waving around you and seungcheol. he has his arms out of the pool, resting his elbows on the edge of the concrete. you can see the dark lines of his tattoo peeking out across the back of his neck and you smile, taking in his figure. the broad shoulders your daughter sits on when he carries her around, the defined muscles you've run your hands along many times and the wet, slicked back hair you like to tangle your fingers in when you're in bed together. every part of him so perfect, and all yours.
"admiring the view?" he asks with a grin, parroting your words from earlier.
"as a matter of fact, i am," you say, giggling as you flick a little bit of water at him and watch the droplets roll down his arm. "i'm glad we did this."
"the pool, or the vacation?"
"the vacation. all of it." you sigh, kicking your feet as you lean back against the wall, the water coming up to just below your chin. "i was afraid we wouldn't get to do this as often, now that we have her to take care of. but i'm glad everything worked out."
he reaches out, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours under the water. "love you so much, baby. any time i get to spend with you and our daughter is my favorite thing in the whole world."
you squeeze his hand, smiling at him. "love you too, cheollie."
he leans over to kiss you again, but you pull away, sputtering. "cheol, gross! you have chlorine all in your mouth!"
"not like you haven't had worse things in your mouth," he says with a mischievous grin, and you splash more water in his face. "hey, i'm not wrong, aren't i!"
you pout, crossing your arms with a huff. “rather have your cock in my mouth ten times over than nasty hotel pool water.”
he grins. “ten times is a lot. we should probably get started on that.”
you whine. “cheol, we can’t!”
he pouts back at you, mirroring your expression. “who says we can’t?”
“our daughter sleeping in the same room as us, maybe?”
“oh, c’mon, she’s a year old, she’s not gonna know what’s happening. we’ll put a blanket on top of the crib or something so she can’t see. it’s not like we won’t hear her if she wakes up.”
you huff. “fine, i’ll think about it. but you have to shower first, i’m not fucking you while you smell like chlorine.”
his smile widens. “y’know, that’s a great idea, actually. the shower would be cleaner…”
“ugh, cheol, you’re so horny all the time!”
“how can i not be, when my wife is so hot?”
you splash water at him and try to swim away, but you don’t get very far before his strong hands are gripping your waist and pulling you back towards him. you laugh, struggling and kicking as he holds onto you tightly before throwing you into the water with a huge splash.
when you resurface, coughing the water out of your lungs, cheol looks a little worried at how you glare at him, thinking you’re really angry with him. but then you turn around and hit him in the face with another blast of water, using your faux-upset look to surprise him and get him back.
“oh, you shouldn’t have done that!” he says with a grin, and you shriek as he starts swimming after you.
after you’ve thoroughly exhausted yourselves in the pool, playing and swimming and splashing each other until your arms and legs are sore, you sit on one of the lounge chairs, quickly drying off. luckily your daughter hasn’t woken up yet, so if you hurry you might really have some extra time to “shower”.
seungcheol stands next to you, his towel hanging around his bare shoulders, water pooling at his feet. you have to admit, he does look hot, and you suddenly remember the reason you even have a daughter in the first place when he shakes his wet hair; droplets roll down his shoulders in a way that really shouldn’t be that sexy, but somehow it is.
your bikini suddenly feels too tight and too wet on your body, and you know it’s not just from the water. you stand up and grab his neck, pulling him closer to smash your lips against his.
“somebody’s eager,” he giggles when you pull away. “thought you didn’t want to kiss me when i was all dirty from the pool.”
you pout at him playfully, wrapping your towel around your waist as you grab his hand and pull him towards the gate. “be quiet and hurry up so we can go shower.”
you make your way back up to your room, relieved to find your daughter still sleeping peacefully as you throw your wet towels over the sink to dry. seungcheol’s already got the shower started, stripping out of his shorts and stepping in while he waits for you to catch up.
once you’re inside with him, he wraps his arms around you, the warm, clean water cascading from the shower above your heads. “hi,” he says, a soft smile on his face.
you grin back at him. “hi, cheollie.”
“you enjoying your vacation so far?”
you giggle, staring into his eyes as you watch droplets of water collect on his eyelashes. “it’s alright.”
he sticks out his bottom lip in a pout. “just alright?”
“mm. i‘m sure you could think of a way to make it better, though.” you run your fingers through his wet hair, messing it around a little before dropping your hands down to squeeze his ass.
he laughs, though it’s a gesture he’s more than gotten used to over the years. “oh, really?”
“mhm,” you hum. “i seem to remember you mentioning something in the pool earlier…”
with the way you’re pressed against his chest, you can already feel his cock growing harder, poking against your hip as you stand together under the water. “and what was that?” he asks, his eyes darkening.
you purse your lips and look at the ceiling, pretending to think hard about it. “y’know, i think it was— something like this…” 
you lean in, finally closing the distance to kiss him, and he reciprocates, eagerly chasing your lips. you push your hips up against him, putting pressure on his cock and he moans into your mouth, kisses growing rougher as his grip on you grows tighter. you groan as he pulls you closer, barely an inch of space between your bodies, and you can’t tell anymore where you end and he begins.
“want me to take care of you, pretty girl?” his voice rumbles as he pulls away from you before diving back in, attaching his mouth to your neck and sucking hard. you can already feel bruises forming on your skin, and it makes your cunt clench. “want me to fuck you like the good girl you are? like you deserve?”
you barely have time to whine out a “yes” before his hands are sliding down your body, lifting up one of your legs by the thigh and wrapping it around his hip. the head of his hard cock brushes against your clit at this new angle, and you gasp out his name as he slides his cock through your folds. “cheol, please–”
he carefully dips just the tip into your dripping hole, still teasing you with his words. “please, what, baby? want me to put another baby in you?”
“fuck— yes, cheol! please, want you to fill me up again, please, feels so good—”
he finally begins pushing into you, and you let out a broken moan as you feel him so deep inside you.
“better not be too loud, darling,” he scolds as his thrusts start to become rougher. “don’t wanna wake up our daughter.”
you whimper, holding onto his shoulders for balance. your legs ache from the position but you don’t want to stop, want him to keep fucking you until he cums inside you. 
you’d stopped taking birth control when you started trying for your first child, and you haven’t started it again since; it isn’t a very safe practice, but you wouldn’t be opposed to getting pregnant again, especially not when you’re so addicted to the feeling of him cumming inside you, the warm liquid making your heart race.
cheol’s hands slide to your waist, turning your hips just slightly so he can fuck up into you at a new angle, one that leaves you gasping for breath as the head of his cock kisses your walls just right.
you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the sensation of the water hitting your back and his cock jackhammering into you. even before you had your first child you could barely keep up with his stamina, and it seems he hasn’t lost an ounce of that energy he had when you first met him.
with just a few more strokes you’re falling apart around him, knees going weak but his strong arms wrapped around you force you to stay standing as you go limp in his hold, whimpering and struggling and pleading with him to keep going, go harder, more, please, please, please.
he fucks you through your orgasm with ease, the beautiful sound of his soft grunts ringing in your ears.
you continue to clench around him until you feel his cock jerk violently, releasing into your pussy with a guttural moan. coming down from your own high, you have half a mind to mock his words from earlier about being too loud; but every thought in your head flies out the window when he starts whispering in your ear about how well you’re taking him, milking every drop of his cum and letting him fill you up, letting him breed you, his beautiful wife.
thick globs of white drip down your leg onto the tile floor, and you whine against his lips, feeling his cum ooze out of your sore cunt. he keeps his cock nestled inside you, plugging you up as you clench around him in an effort to keep his cum from spilling out.
you lay your forehead on his shoulder, taking a second to catch your breath and briefly you wonder how many people have fucked in this exact shower before. but the thought doesn’t stay for long, because your attention is soon pulled away by cheol, who’s spiked his hair up with the shampoo and it’s dripping all over your ears.
he lets his softening cock gently slip out of you, and the rest of your shower goes (somewhat) normally, once you start washing each other like the shower is supposed to be used for.
you only have to stop him once, when he starts to get on his knees on the nasty hotel shower floor because he wants to eat you out and you have to scold him about how disgusting that would be; he doesn’t seem to care about that, though, and only relents after you promise you’ll let him eat you out on the bed instead.
“you better not actually get me pregnant again so soon,” you scowl at him when you’ve both rinsed off enough, and you smack his arm when he starts giggling.
“but you look so cute,” he says with a mischievous grin. “you don’t like being stuffed all full of my cum? see how many more beautiful babies we can make together?”
you don’t reply, but your silence is enough of an answer. he hums, reaching around you to turn off the water. “how about we dry off and continue this conversation in bed, sweetheart?”
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The Bats Are Fighting (Distaff Edition)
some conflicts I enjoy:
Babs is pretty hostile/judgy toward Helena at first & is bitterly upset and hurt when Helena starts wearing a Bat costume - apparently a Batgirl costume - without asking her. Later on, Bruce chases Helena out of the costume, and Babs gives Cass the Batgirl costume with her explicit blessing. Helena and Cass never have a rivalry over this exactly, but I don't think they ever really get along, either
Babs and Helena eventually make up when Babs lets Helena join the Birds of Prey but it's rocky in the beginning - Babs dislikes Helena's methods and doesn't entirely trust her; Helena resents being kept on the outside
Steph is super-impressed by Cass and tries to get her to like her and they eventually get close, but Cass has a pretty low opinion of Steph-as-a-vigilante and doesn't hesitate to boss her around or knock her out, and she's super-hurt by Steph lying to her about what's going on during War Games (probably not unrelated: Cass is the only Bat to blame Steph instead of Bruce after Steph dies)
Babs and Cass get very close but also have tensions because Babs wants Cass to have the 'normal' life that Babs thinks she should've tried harder to have when she was younger, and Cass isn't entirely comfortable with this pressure, plus - this one I think is a bit more well-known - Babs spends a lot of time tutoring Cass and looking after her (awww), BUT ALSO in a tense moment she gets really nasty and harsh about Cass's reluctance to learn to read and calls her "stupid"
Dinah finds Steph REALLY annoying and wants her to stop tagging around after her... until she finds out about Steph's miserable home life, and then she appears like an avenging angel and kicks Steph's dad and his cronies out of the house
Babs decides to work with a guy who tortured Dinah because she thinks he's capable of redemption and Dinah is NOT HAPPY about it
Just generally, Steph and Helena are very much outsiders who don't get brought into the "core" Batfam and who aren't trusted with info like Bruce's secret identity. By contrast, Babs is an insider almost from Day 1 - she may have conflicts with Bruce, but she's also got his absolute trust - and Dinah is as insider as it gets, with a mom who was also Black Canary and a stint on the JLA
other general characterization notes that cause Conflict (TM):
Babs is pretty much a classic Bat - she's got a ton of control issues and she's an instinctively secretive workaholic
Helena is an adult who will kill people if she damn well feels it's necessary and she doesn't appreciate being lectured about it
Steph is a defensive teenage outsider with a bucketload of family problems - deadbeat evil dad! addict mom! - and when she's upset she's got a reckless self-destructive streak
Cass is very much like Bruce in that 1) she is wildly super mega good at fighting, 2) she's an instinctive loner who's comically bad at people AND YET she can nevertheless effortlessly manage to head off to a foreign country for a weekend and have a passionately-felt mutual love affair with some random criminal or something, and then that person dies & she goes home like nothing happened, 3) she cares about other people but completely sucks at communication & when in doubt will just go silent & take off or refuse to have conversations, 4) because she hates talking sometimes she'll just knock you out or hit you so that she won't have to do it, 5) she will spend an entire year planning to have a fight to the death with someone for Reasons and tell no one about it because why would she tell someone
anyway they're all terrible <3
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Finished
Pairing: Henry Cavill x you
Prompt:Henry & y/n invited to his moms for thanksgiving. Mom also invites his ex.His mom is super strict so everyone is supposed to have separate rooms, mostly for his ex to slip into his room but she opens the door to find you sitting on his face.
This one was kind of tough but, ended up being a super fun story to write!Hope you guys enjoy it !Thanks for your ask, hope this lives up to the expectation.
“Are we going?” you ask quietly.
“Do you want to go?”  he says, cocking an eyebrow in your direction.
“I mean….. It’s your mother. We kinda have to.” he pulls you in closer letting out a low hmmm. 
“Yes. but, I don’t visit her often for a reason.” he says quietly. The heft of his arm and the sheets around you calling you to relaxation. 
“And what’s that reas-”
“She’s crazy.” he says bluntly. You laugh,immediately knowing he’s joking . It was very out of character for him to call anyone out of their name. Much less his own mother. You look up at him to notice he isn’t laughing, not even smiling.
“O Henry, come on! She is not crazy, I’m sure she just misses you. That’s why she calls so often.”
He caresses your face “My mother is a tiny, blonde psychopath. I love her with all my heart but, everytime I bring a woman home she gets so attached I- it’s hard to explain.” he trails off.
“Guess I’ll just have to meet her then!” you squeal sleepily into his chest before drifting away in an ocean of plans.
You packed, you brushed your teeth, and were ready early in time for the flight. Henry slept most of the way but, you were too filled with questions of if she would like you, and what he of all people meant by calling his mother an attached psychopath. The hours ticked away and you looked worriedly from the clock on your phone to Henry.
“Maybe she just forgot we were coming today?Should we call?” you ask
“Nooooo. No. She has forgotten nothing. This is what she does. Constantly trying to keep me on my toes, I guarantee you she’s up to something.”
You snort through your nose “Henry I guarantee your mother is not that malicious.”
“Have you met her yet?” he jokes flatly. Just then the car pulls up a decently clean but embarrassingly tiny red kia soul, flying like a bat out of hell. 
You exhale, taking a step off of the curb and waiting for your moment of truth.
She jumps out of the car and runs to her son, jumping into his arms. He smiles for a minute holding her and you see the light of a little boy flicker in him for a moment. He pulls back at the sound of the trunk popping open and begins to load the bags into the back for the weekend. 
“Mrs. Marianne I am just so excited to finally get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m really excited to-” She cuts you off turning back to her son.
“And Hen you remember Ellen.”
That’s when you see her, a leggy blonde with a perfect smile stepping out of the car that just makes your heart drop. Ellen fucking Whitaker. Ofcourse, champion show jumping horse rider from a family of professional horse trainers and not to mention gorgeous but, most importantly Henry’s ex- fiance. 
“Cool, cool ,cool ,cool” you can hear yourself muttering under your breath trying not to explode.
“Mum this is y/n! She was very excited to be invited.” he confirms, giving you some comfort that he’s on your side. 
“Mmm. Well that’s darling.” she spins on her heels heading back towards the driver’s side of the car.
You follow Henry as you both hug Ellen and exchange your greetings. She seems to think his mother bringing her here is just as ridiculous as you do and while you still despise her presence that knowledge makes it vaguely reassuring that she hasn’t come to fight for his love. 
“Henry, dear sit up here with me I want to hear all about LA.” he rolls his eyes, making his way to the passenger side while you and Ellen assemble yourselves in the back of the tiny car with the luggage. You flip your phone over in your lap and notice a text from Henry. “I love you.Don’t stress out. She’s just like this.” you text him back a heart emoji but, it’d be a lie to pretend your heart wasn’t still caught in your throat. Not only did his mother refuse to acknowledge you. But, she brought some random ass woman that she obviously plans for Henry to be with instead. Actually , no.Not random, which is even worse! Am I spirialing ? I feel like I’m spiraling. You had completely zoned out of the sweet family reunion happening infront of you an attempted to string some words together in your head that would help you explain how you feel to him when you finally got alone time. You entered the driveway of the estate and his mother handed the keys to the valet , excusing herself and calling Ellen to follow her inside. Being excluded from the girl’s powwow didn’t bother you as much since if gave you a chance to speak to Henry. The Butler offered to help but, he insisted on doing it himself, calling him by name. And you were momentarily reminded of the things you did love about Henry. You followed behind him as he carried things to the room. You tried to make small talk with him as you unzipped your suitcase and began pulling out your necessities for your facewash routine. “O ummmm-” Henry looked at you as if trying to hide back from saying something. More bad information you were sure. 
“You actually have the room down the hall.”he says sheepishly.
“What do you mean?” your eyes widen despite your attempts to quell your emotion. He has to be crazy. There’s no other way to explain.
“My mom doesn’t want me to share a bed in her home unless its with the woman I’ve marrried.” he says , hands up in a defensive position. 
You exhale slowly repacking your things. “Sure. Ofcourse. What wouldn’t she want that.”
You knew it sounded bitter but, you couldn’t help it. 
“Hey -” he grabs your arm as you head towards the door, pulling you in and kissing you .His hand coming to your cheek, fingers resting on the back of your head, giving you the comfort he couldn’t offer with words. 
“Plus” he whispers into your lips “It will be fun to sneak around like kids for a few days.”You roll your eyes at him as his hands make their way to your ass. He gropes you for a bit before you escape his grasp headed to your room or Marianne created dungeon. Actually the room was quite nice. The flowers on the wall paper felt like a bit much but, the room got great sun and wasn’t to far from the bathroom . You liked that the estate had an old-timey feel of walking down the hall to use the toilet. Plus, it allowed you more excuses to be where Henry is. You unpacked your room and then sat on the bed next to your empty suitcase before exhaling,and finding the strength to get dressed for dinner. 
You stepped gently down the stairs ,trying to avoid the steps that creak when your hear the door close behind you. Looking up over the landing you see Henry at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”he asks flatly.
You become aware of your hunched back and your body language from testing the step with your toe.
“I- I just don’t want to go.” you confessed.
He rushes in your direction, “Sweetheart you don’t have to.”
“No I mean I want to I just ….I was so excited to meet your mother and she just-”
“Listen” he leans against the wall scratching the side of his face. “I was trying to protect you. I should have tried to explain her more but it’s- she’s just so embarrassing. If you want, we can cut it short and go home tomorrow.” he seems genuinely saddened that his mom had been so rude. You hadn’t even had the chance to tackle Ellen’s presence before you hear a fumbling downstairs and his mother calling for him. He looks at you silently giving you time to decide. 
“I still want to try and win her over.” you whisper back to him. He laughs a little at your  determination and offers you his arm. You walk to dinner together and his presence gives you comfort.  
At dinner your seats are assigned. Shockingly your seat is not next to Henry’s but one of their family friend’s who was also visiting. You thought it a smart call on Marriane’s part. Had it just been the four of you for dinner the meal was sure to mostly be had in silence. You sat across from Henry and although he and Ellen had a few hushed moments this test actually caused you to feel more confident in your relationship. His mom was being a bitch but, when she did he’d nudge your foot under the table. This nudge eventually turned into a quiet game of footsies but, as adults your were grateful for the reminder that no matter how it seemed he was always prioritizing you. By the time dessert came you decided you wanted to try pushing the boundaries. His mother hadn’t said anything rude to you, she simply had not spoken to you at all. And if she had already decided she hated you  then there wasn’t much left for you to do but, enjoy the sculpture of a man that she had created. You slipped your foot from your shoe and let your footsies progress to you rubbing him through his pants with your foot. His eyes shoot to you across the table,but he doesn’t give you away. You can feel him growing harder under your toes as he melts into his chair. His face looks so small and innocent, looking at you, trying so hard to be in control, to be good. His mother hurls a few rude words but, you are to turned on by the view across from you to care. Once dismissed from the table, the tempered dash to the bedroom is quick. His hand presses into your back as he practically pushes you up the stairs. His room was the closest to the stairs , as you walked past he grabs your arm , pulling you in. 
“Heeeeey hey hey.” you whisper to him as he slips his hand up your dress. “I think your mother will notice if I’m not in my room.” he groans into you. “Shhhh. I’ll come back later” you pull back winking at him. He slowly removes his hand and you turn, switching out of the room. 
You promptly switch into your best lingerie and robe while counting the minutes, listening as the sounds of the house grow softer and softer. When the coast seems clear, you softly make your way to Henry’s room. You push the door open slowly trying to mitigate the creak as much as possible.You can see his figure sitting up in the dark. You drop your robe to the ground as he closes his book. “ I thought you’d never come!” he exhales. He places his book on the nightstand and you jump into bed, straddling him. His hands reach around to cup your ass and your grab him by the wrists. 
“Don’t touch.” you warn. He cocks his head to the side as if to question the change from your usual power exchange. 
“Only with your tongue.” you smile, leaning in to kiss him. He smiles coyly and you move yourself up the headboard of the bed. You grab onto it as he pulls your panties to the side. He hums into you and you are doing your best to keep quiet as you grip down onto the headboard beneath. You reach your other hand down cradling the back of his head while his tongue explores further into you. Biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying out ,you pull his hair and his hand smack your ass in response.
“Fuck” you exhale into the darkness and just then you hear the door creak open. 
“Oh no!” you turn around to see Ellen, and no sooner than you lock eyes, you grab the duvet pulling it over both of your bodies.Henry is confused and ends up being mostly exposed during the shuffle.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Ummm your mom told me to- I’m sorry I-” She turned , rushing out of the room; a flurry of nerves and embarrassment. The door slammed behind her and you both looked at eachother, momentarily embarrassed too. But, then you both broke into laugher. This entire trip had been absurd, this is almost just on brand. You lift your leg in an attempt to end your straddling of him , when he stops you with a hand to your lower back. Smiling while looking up at you he says 
“I wasn’t finished yet.” and you melt back into him. 
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katyawriteswhump · 8 days
Text
(You’re just) too good to be true 
For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible. 
Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…
Rating: T. WC: 1460   CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.
Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.
“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”
Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?
His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.
If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.
His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.
Oh hold on, scratch that. 
To fail to kill Vecna.
Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…
What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine! 
There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.
He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.
It’s all too much.
He quits, sinking back into the darkness.
When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.
Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?
His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.
“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.
He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.
It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb. 
Eddie is no more.
He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”
“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…
… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.
Huh?
Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.
More than once.
Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”
Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.
MAX? She’s in a coma!
Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place. 
He quits and drifts back to the darkness.
When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos. 
Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.
Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.
Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug. 
Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”
He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.
“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”
There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.
“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”
Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”
“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”
“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”
“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”
This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…
“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”
Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:
“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”
“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”
He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”
“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”
It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”
“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”
“You’re kidding?”
“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”
He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.
“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”
“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”
He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.
She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.
“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”
Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…
His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.
“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”
(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)
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Text
Steddie Upside-down AU Part 30
Part 1 Part 29
Will feels cold here, huddled into the bleachers, surrounded by his best friends. He can feel something in his chest tugging, urging him to follow Eddie out of the gym and off to find Steve.
He doesn’t.
It’s weird, to feel this jittery being out of sight of two people he barely knows but feels inexplicably connected to. Will hopes they feel the same when they make it back. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they make him go away.
Jonathan does that, sometimes. When he has to concentrate, or go to a shift at the diner, but with Jonathan, that means he has to be on is own for a few hours. Their tie is concrete – blood and love. With Steve and Eddie? He doesn’t know.
Will lets his gaze wander as his friend’s chat around him. His Mom is sitting on the first bench of the bleachers, everyone else organized in a wonky pyramid behind her. She’s chewing her nails, watching the door that Hopper, Eddie, and Eddie’s Uncle had gone through like they’ll be back any moment.
The school is quiet, his friend’s voices the only sounds, as they echo off the walls of the empty gym. Dustin is in the middle of explaining to El what a school dance is when Will realizes it’s too quiet.
He glances over to the corner, where Jonathan, Nancy, and Barbara were huddled before and sees no one at all.
“Where’s Jonathan?” It comes out of his mouth quiet, barely above a whisper, but Dustin stops mid-word to look around while Mom jumps up from the bleachers to do the same.
“Jonathan?” she calls, eyes getting that same frantic edge that had finally started to dissipate.
“They’re probably just sucking face somewhere,” Dustin says, shrugging like it’s all no big deal.
Mike recoils. “No way!” he says, at the same time that El says, “no,” quietly, eyes downcast. Mike turns to her, brows furrowed. “Did you see them? Do you know where they went?”
El looks up, eyes big and sad in her face. “Yes,” she says, nodding slowly.
“Where?” Mike sounds a bit frantic. “Where did they go?
El answers with a word Will’s starting to hope he never hears again. “Demogorgon.”
Will feels a tremor running over his bones. He’s so cold, like all the warmth has been sucked out of the gym.
“No, no, no!” his Mom says, running a hand up through her hair, irreparably messing up her bangs. “What are they doing?”
“Helping,” El says.
His Mom groans. Will remembers Nancy’s plans shared around the table like they were the only logical next steps and feels his hands begin to tremble where they’re hanging between his knees. Just the thought of Jonathan coming face to face with the Demogorgon armed with nothing but a bear trap and a bat makes a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.
Come on, we’re going to find a phone!” his Mom says, gesturing impatiently for them all to get up and follow her. El shrinks a little into Mike’s side at her erratic gestures, but dutifully gets up with the rest of them and follows her out of the gym.
Dustin helpfully points her toward the administrative office. She drags the phone over the lip of the front desk to get at the keys, punching them in by rote and listening to it ring and ring.
“Pick up, Jonathan,” she hisses furiously. If they all make it out of here, his brother is going to be grounded for eternity.
“What are they doing?” Lucas asks quiet enough not to disturb his Mom’s threatening over the answering machine.
“They were going to lure the Demogorgon with blood,” Will answers, just as quietly.
“Why would he be at your house then?” Dustin asks, in that know-it-all voice that makes bullies try to beat him up between one class and the other. “If they’re trying to help Steve, they’ll be at—”
“Steve’s house,” El says, frowning.
Will wants to shake her until what he wants to know falls loose. But there’s something fragile about her, like if someone raised their hand, she’d wilt like a dandelion in the summer sun.
His Mom turns around, still clutching the base of the phone to her chest. She looks manic, like when she’s worked a double at Melvald’s and drank a whole pot of coffee. “Do any of you know Steve Harrington’s phone number?”
Lucas elbows Mike in the ribs. “He’s your sister’s boyfriend. Isn’t he calling your house all the time?”
“He is not her boyfriend!” Mike replies hotly. “And I don’t know it!”
Privately, Will thinks Mike’s probably right. Steve didn’t mention Nancy once in all the time Will was with him. That doesn’t seem like boyfriend and girlfriend behavior.
His Mom is wilting in front of them. She sets the phone down with a clatter that makes El jump.
“We should go to his house,” Mike says. “We can’t just leave Nancy to do something stupid.”
“She’s fine, she’s with Jonathan,” Dustin says with a careless shrug, as if Jonathan is an action hero, and not some teenager with a baseball bat. Just like Steve. “Besides, she’s kind of a badass now.”
Mike opens his mouth, ready to retort when his Mom cuts over the conversation, voice raised. “No one is going anywhere!” she says. “None of you are leaving my line of sight until I hand you personally to each of your parents.” She doesn’t seem to notice the way El stoops her head and curls her fists. “I am not losing another kid tonight!”
She sits down in a chair in one of the chairs kids sit in to wait for the Principal to be free to doll out punishments, crosses her arms, and glares up at them until they all comply.
Will notices that El sits as far away from his Mom as possible. No one says anything else for a long time.
Part 31
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luveline · 8 months
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Hello! Would it be alright to request something where prince!steve and his Princess attend their first formal event together?
tysm for requesting ♡ prince steve au
"Don't spill anything," Steve advises under his breath. "Your corset is alabaster." 
"I know. I feel like breathing the wrong way is gonna crack it like papier mache." 
He snorts, adjusting your hand on his arm to the correct position where you stand around a corner from the grand staircase. You wince as rich laughter bounces off the marble steps, the sound wrought with a feeling akin to hounds snapping at your heels. 
"Your nails look nice," Steve says. 
He's already complimented your face, your hair, and your dress. There's not much left to praise, but he finds something anyhow, and a flush of pleasure warms your skin. "Thank you," you say, looking down at your painted nails, a shimmering mother of pearl lacquer coating each one. The cost rivals a month's groceries. "They had so many colours… we started with red, but I thought it looked silly on me. My hands are weird." 
"Your hands are perfect." His eyes shine with sincerity, lips pulled into an amused smile that feels like a well-aimed bop to the chest. "I can get you more. Nail lacquer, I mean. There's a small Sri Lankan boutique by Cordelian House, they have all that intricate cosmetic stuff. It's where Munson gets his kohl sticks." He smiles at you reassuringly. "I'm trying to distract you. It's not working, is it?" 
"I'm going to mess up. Your mom– the queen–" 
"You can call her my mom. That's what she is." Steve nods his understanding of the things you've said without saying them. "She'll be disappointed if you mess up. But I won't be. I'm proud of you for even putting on the dress. I'd be proud of you if you didn't." 
You lick your lips, cherry balm sticky on the tip of your tongue. "Thank you, Steve." 
He says things like this with little regard for how forward it is. Not that subtlety is required. While antiquated in some aspects, the contemporary royal society is loudly lustful. You and Steve could be intimate together now weeks before the wedding and nobody would bat an eye, but you suspect that he's just as unprepared for that as you are, no matter how gently he covers your hand with his. 
There's a short sound like a bird call. Steve straightens his back, his thumb drawing a half circle across your fingers. "Ready?" he asks. 
You nod. You don't really have a choice. 
They announce you together, Prince Steven and his Soul Marked Y/N. It sounds ridiculous to hear his name after weeks of Please, call me Steve, or anything else but Steven. Doubly so to hear you announced as his and not yourself. A simple 'Miss' would have sufficed. Braced for a night of similar small agonies, you hold tight to Steve's arm and begin your descent down the grand staircase and into the foyer. The palace is a structure of white stone that shines silver in some lights, impossible walls of selenite and gauzy silks. The steps are more solid, a plain marble that clicks under the soles of your short heels. 
"Don't let me fall," you say under your breath, the hush of the crowd nearly occluding your voice completely. 
"Never." You can hear his polite smile. "Don't panic." 
You can't not panic, sweat at your naked collar, pearls like beads of ice bobbing with each step you take. The second you reach the floor you deflate with an exhale, your back clicking at the sudden decompression. There's a brief round of applause at your arrival before the cheery music begins anew, the dancing begins again, and the many faces that surround you blur into jewels and elegant clothes, fabrics coloured manilla white, snailshell purple, emerald green, a rainbow of satins swirling this way and that as girls are pushed into spins to the right of the foyer under the ballroom chandelier. 
"You'll dance with me, yeah?" Steve asks tentatively. 
You meet his eyes, all their soft brown gazing at you like you're worth his worry. His lashes twitch as his gaze darts swiftly down and up again. 
"Do I have something?" you ask, lifting your chin. 
"Lipstick. I can fix it?" He brings his hand to your lips before you've answered, using the trimmed nail of his pinky finger to wipe at your lip. You turn still as a porcelain statue, a shiver rushing down your chest at the warmth of his touch.
"You'll dance with me?" he asks again, his knuckle brushing your chin as he drops his hand. 
"Of course I'll dance with you, Steve. We're expected to." 
He throws a glance at the people around you and steps closer. "I want to dance with you because you want to dance. We don't have to do anything. Not this ball, not the dance. Not the wedding." He sighs. "You have choices." 
"No. I don't." Because there glows your wrist. Threads of translucency like spider web and downy feather combined, a sorry hue of blue. 
"Yes, you do," he whispers. "You want to leave? We'll leave right now. I just want you to be happy, and with me." 
You think about it. The weight of hundreds of eyes on your shoulders and the restriction of your corset is making you nauseous. If you left, that sickness would go. But Steve wouldn't get to dance with you.
"I don't want to leave," you say, not sure if you're lying or not. You'd quite like to have his hands on your hips again. And sometimes before the dip he breathes in your ear, says something soft, like Keep going, you got it. 
"No?" he asks, relieved. 
"No. Let's dance. We need the practice…" You offer your hand. He takes it, the smudge of lipstick on his pinky finger like a heart. "I'm sorry. I want to dance." 
"What are you sorry for?" he asks, leaning down to kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Let's dance. If you mess up, I'll mess up worse. I promise. I'll chicken dance in front of everybody." 
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