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lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— inflection point ⟢

pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol

summary: things make a turn for the worse (or the better?) when jeonghan leaves you with the most insufferable person on earth. but maybe a few weeks alone is exactly what you and seungcheol needed after all.

word count: 8.3k words

tags: unresolved emotional tension, established relationship, angst, smut

warnings: implied alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: here's part two! this is mostly cheol and mc unknowingly picking up the pieces from their past breakup while jeonghan is away. nothing like getting to know someone you used to love all over again, right?

additional notes: the first part has been flagged so it's virtually invisible now :| you can go visit it in my masterlist if it still hasn't showed up in the tags!

part one - part two - part three | masterlist

To say that you’re nervous is a terrible understatement.

Today is the day you’re supposed to meet Jeonghan’s boyfriend, who’s technically your boyfriend as well, now that you��ve agreed to this odd arrangement. You fidget with your phone beneath the table when Jeonghan excuses himself to fetch him from the restaurant’s entrance.

It should be fine, right? Your boss already took you to dinner before, and he has a knack for setting an atmosphere comfortable for everyone in attendance. Jeonghan just has this charismatic air to him that makes him easy to be with. A mediator of sorts.

He reassured you before you both left the office today that his lover is the most accommodating person you’d ever meet. Though, Jeonghan hasn’t really mentioned his name at all—saying he wanted his boyfriend to tell it to you himself.

So there you are, not-so patiently waiting for them to return to your table.

When Jeonghan finally comes back with another person in tow, you perk up with curiosity, running over all the introductions you practiced in your head.

Hi, it’s nice to meet you! Thanks for letting me exclusively join your relationship!

Fuck. That already sounds so bad in your head, what more if you say the words—

“Here he is,” Jeonghan says, while pulling out the vacant seat on your table, smiling fondly at his lover. “I really do hope you get along.”

Five minutes ago, you hoped that, too.

Except when you finally see the face of the other man you’re supposed to be in a relationship with, your heart nearly drops into your stomach.

“Hi,” Choi Seungcheol says with that stupid dimpled smile of his. “I’m Seungcheol. It’s nice to meet you.”

What’s the protocol for when you unexpectedly land yourself into a relationship with the same person you spent literal years getting over? You have no idea. What you do know is that, from the hopeful smile that Jeonghan flashes at the both of you, and the obviously practiced grin plastered on Seungcheol’s face, the former isn’t privy to your relationship with the latter.

Erm. Past relationship.

You take a deep breath through your nose—forcing down all those years of heartbreak and longing and loneliness—and give him a smile of your own.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say, and if either of them notice how your voice cracked, they don’t say anything about it.

“Let’s take care of each other, yeah?”

…

“So what you meant to say is,” Jihoon starts, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep holding his accusatory stare, “the guy who dumped you after taking your virginity, the legendary shitty ex, is the same guy you’re dating with Jeonghan now?”

“Say sike. Like, right now,” Soonyoung scowls once Jihoon lays out his deduction, but you can’t really take the guy seriously with his cheeks stuffed with popcorn.

“I would if I could, and you know it, Soonie.”

In your defense, you didn’t mean to come clean about Seungcheol’s identity to them during game night at their apartment. But one of the reasons why you begged them to hold your monthly hang-outs here is that Jeonghan is leaving for Busan tomorrow morning, and you’re a little over your head with the fact that you’re spending two weeks alone with Seungcheol.

Sure, he’s become marginally less of an asshole after upgrading the furniture in their bedroom to cater to you specifically, but you’re not about to let your guard down. God knows when Seungcheol will switch back to being the prissy jerk that’s been tormenting you for the past two months. Especially with Jeonghan out of the picture, your sanity is free fucking real estate.

“Okay, let’s skip the part where we talk about how weird that is, and what a small goddamn world we live in.” Thank the heavens for Jihoon, really. Always the logical one. “But why didn’t you tell us your ex-boyfriend is a star football player. What the fuck?”

…Or not.

“Really? After everything I just told you, you’re choosing to focus on that ?” You shoot him a grimace before dipping your hand in the popcorn bowl for a quick bite. “For the record, I haven’t heard anything about Seungcheol until he walked into that restaurant and introduced himself as Jeonghan’s boyfriend. I only found out that he was a big shot athlete a week after we started dating, too!”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though?” Soonyoung wonders before kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Never mind the fact that he’s the same guy that took you ten years to get over, but you’re dating two filthy rich, and ridiculously hot men now! What more could you ask for?”

You groan, burying your face in your palms. “Did you two seriously not listen to a single word I said? Jeonghan has no idea that we’re exes, and we have to act like we don’t hate each other whenever he’s around!”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “But didn’t you say Seungcheol explicitly told you last night that he doesn’t hate you?”

“Oh, so you were listening after all.” You huff.

“We listened to the whole thing, you know.” Soonyoung pouts. “But honestly, all I heard was ‘I’m an idiot who can’t swallow her pride, so I’ll just act like I despise him because it’s easier than having to admit that I’m still in love with him.’”

Jihoon practically cackles as he leans across the couch to give Soonyoung a high five—like the bestest fucking friends in the universe. You shoot both of them a chilling glare with your tail between your legs, not liking how they dissected your dilemma in under five minutes.

“Okay, okay. We’re sorry,” Jihoon placates, offering you some more popcorn as a peace offering. “It’s just that you’re probably making this whole thing more complicated than it actually is. I mean, yeah, he was kind of a dick for ditching you like that, but weren’t you also a dick for deciding that you could only choose one or the other? Seungcheol or Seoul?”

“Yeah, haven’t you heard of long distance relationships?” Soonyoung wonders before snapping his fingers like an idea just occurred to him. “Actually, maybe you didn’t have to keep up the LDR for long? He ended up living in Seoul just like you did, right?”

Once they’ve laid those ideas on the table, Jihoon and Soonyoung both cast you another round of disbelieving stares—making you want to crawl under their couch and just rot with the dust bunnies.

“Fine! I was a bit too hasty back then, I admit that!” You chew on your bottom lip, unable to come up with anything in your defense. “But, but…”

Soonyoung rises from his seat with a long sigh, walking over to your spot to engulf you in a tight hug. You resist his affection for a few seconds, not wanting to give in too easily, but you end up caving into his touch either way.

“Hey, you fucked up, and that’s okay,” he murmurs as he smooths down your hair. “But don’t you think it’s unfair for Seungcheol if you keep acting like he’s the only one who messed up? It’s just like Jihoon told me once: relationships are a two-way street. Well, a three-way street in your case, but that's not the point.”

You sniffle, surprised at the tears that are pooling along your lashes. “But he always acts so hostile. It didn’t make sense to me when he said he didn’t hate me because whenever Jeonghan isn’t around, it’s obvious that he still hasn’t forgiven me…”

“What if he’s just giving you back the same energy you gave to him?” Jihoon hypothesizes. “Be honest, who fired the first shot?”

“...Right after we had dinner at that restaurant, I kind of told him I’m only doing this for Jeonghan. Might not have been too nice about the delivery either.”

Again, your two best friends share a look—like they don’t know what to do with you anymore.

That makes three of you then.

“Okay, from what you’ve told us, I can say for sure that Seungcheol probably wants to fix things with you,” Jihoon offers with a reassuring smile. “One hundred percent. The only thing that’s stopping him is…well, you.”

Soonyoung nods. “He can’t make things right if you don’t let him, silly.”

“It’s actually better that Jeonghan is going away for a while ‘cause the two of you can have some time to sort everything out.” You’re about to sharply ask how in the world that makes things better, but Jihoon puts up a hand to shut you up. “If Jeonghan is there, you two will be too busy trying to butter him up with lies to actually sit down and hold a proper conversation.”

“Just…just try to hear out what the guy has to say, yeah?” Soonyoung suggests while squeezing you in his arms again. “While you’re at it, you can explain to him that you were young and hasty and overly-emotional—”

“Hey!”

“—and let’s see where we can go from there.”

Silence fills the room as your best friends stare at you with equally expectant looks—hoping that you wouldn’t fuck this up now that a rare second chance has been granted. You sigh as your gaze lingers on the forgotten UNO cards on the coffee table.

Still, maybe going to them for advice might’ve been the best decision you’ve made so far.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you grumble as you push Soonyoung away. “No promises that I’ll do it without any blunders though…”

“And that’s more than enough for us,” Soonyoung says cheerily before picking the cards back up. “Now let’s team up and destroy Jihoon this round, yeah?”

...

You absolutely despise having to get up and out of bed earlier than the time your alarm goes off. But when the day of Jeonghan’s business trip finally comes, you find it easy to prepare for work despite the fact that it’s only four in the morning, and you don’t have to time in for another four hours.

Jeonghan texts you that they’re right outside your apartment, and it only takes one glance at your window to confirm the presence of Seungcheol’s car idling by the curb. After going over all the things you’re set to bring to their house, you text him back, saying that you’ll be down in three minutes.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Jeonghan greets from the passenger seat with a relaxed smile. “You really didn’t have to come. I know how much you hate getting up early.”

“I’d hate it even more if I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye, though,” you chuckle as Seungcheol takes your travel bag and helps put it inside the trunk.

The moment he pulls it shut, you blurt out:

“Good morning, Seungcheol.”

He looks so surprised, you wonder if what you said was remotely offensive. But after reminding yourself of how you’ve treated each other for the past two months, you suppose the reaction is completely warranted.

Baby steps, you muse. You’ll both make things right one day. For Jeonghan and for yourselves.

“Good morning,” he grumbles, and for some reason, his words send a fluttering sensation blooming across your chest.

Okay, what the fuck?

You think you did a pretty good job ignoring the strange reaction that Seungcheol unknowingly pulled from you in the next thirty minutes. Well, mostly because you spent the entire ride to Jeonghan’s station fast asleep, but that’s besides the point.

Though as you drift in and out of consciousness, you can hear bits and pieces of conversation coming from the front. Not like you’re conscious enough to make sense of any of their words, though.

“You sure you’ll both be okay while I’m gone?” Jeonghan pouts when you’re literally right in front of the entrance—looking more like a needy puppy than the boss of a reputable corporation. “Call me if anything comes up, okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Weren’t you the one who insisted that we’ll be just fine, Hannie? Now, get in there before you’re late for boarding.”

Jeonghan continues to surprise you by pulling you closer by the waist, pressing a long, fervent kiss on your lips. Your eyes widen at the suddenness of his gesture, but this is Jeonghan. You can never resist him if you try.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Try to get along with Cheol while I’m gone, yeah?”

You shoot him a puzzled look before pressing another kiss on the corner of his lip. “What do you mean? We get along just fine.”

He flashes you a tight-lipped smile before turning to Seungcheol. “You, mister, are going to take care of our princess here. Got that?”

“Copy,” Seunghceol lets out a low, deep laugh before pulling Jeonghan closer to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “Take care over there. Earn us enough money for a comfortable retirement for three.”

“Oh, you bet I will.”

You and Seungcheol linger by the entrance until Jeonghan disappears into the bustling crowd of commuters en-route to other, far-away places. But you only notice how closely you’re standing next to each other when he catches your attention by tapping your wrist.

“What is it?” you ask, swallowing awkwardly.

Seungcheol takes a moment to glance at his smartwatch, 5:24 A.M flashing on-screen.

“You want to grab breakfast before I drive you to work?”

If he asked you the same question a month ago, you would’ve spat something along the lines of in your dreams before stomping off to the nearest taxi bay. But you remember that you’re a fully functioning adult who still has mistakes to make up for.

So, with a deep breath, you say:

“Sounds like a plan.”

…

By ‘breakfast’, you expected Seungcheol to just drop by a McDonald’s Drive Thru so you could both munch on burgers and stale french fries in the parking lot. But you’re reminded of the fact that he literally earns about seven digits’ worth of won whenever he’s playing in a season.

You’re suddenly grateful for having enough foresight to dress smart casual—not the oversized hoodie and sweats you intended at first—because Seungcheol thought it was a good idea to bring you to a five-star restaurant at the crack of dawn.

“Mister Choi, it’s nice to have you back,” the waiter at the front desk greets with a bow.

Seungcheol nods. “Table for two. Al fresco.”

“Understood. Some of our staff will be with you shortly.”

You’re not completely unfamiliar with all these fancy settings. Your line of work requires you to follow Jeonghan and his secretary, Joshua, around for a lot of pretentious business dinners. This is just one of the many places you’ve felt out of place, but you like to think you’re already used to blending in.

When a waitress leads the two of you towards the balcony, where you’re granted a panoramic view of the city just before dawn, you nearly forget to breathe.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Seungcheol’s voice suddenly snaps you out of it as he helps you into your seat—making your cheeks glow red with embarrassment. “Our coach likes coming here whenever he needs to meet us. Thought you’d appreciate the ambience, too.”

“Gotta say, it’s a huge upgrade from those old ice cream parlor dates,” you tell him a bit too loosely, and when you realize what you just said to him, it’s a little too late.

You try to gauge Seungcheol’s reaction from the corner of your eye—looking for any signs of offense—but if anything, he even looks pleased by the reference. The lanterns hanging overhead bring forth the small smile on his lips, and you don’t like how Seungcheol is starting to make your heart race the same way Jeonghan does.

The same way he used to all those years ago.

In a poor attempt at dismissing these strange sensations, you bury your nose into the menu instead.

You wonder what’s wrong with you all of a sudden. You’ve spent weeks fueled by anger alone whenever you and Seungcheol are at each other’s throats. But now that you’ve psyched yourself out with the determination to make things right, you’re at an impasse.

With the disdain that you wore like armor having been stripped away, you’ve never felt more vulnerable. Seungcheol isn’t even doing anything except scrolling through his phone, but you feel like your heart’s going to explode in the next few seconds.

Suddenly, you’re a teenager again, but this time the boy you're catching feelings for is actually a fucking football player who can buy out your entire existence.

“Stare at me any more, and you might just put a hole through my skull,” Seungcheol says without glancing up from his screen—making you flinch and hide your face behind the menu again. “Oh, and if you can’t decide on what to eat, their waffles are pretty good.”

That makes you raise an eyebrow, lowering your makeshift shield. “How would you know? Don’t you hate waffles?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Don’t you love them? I’m just saying because one of my teammates gave me a bite last time, and it wasn’t too bad.”

You try not to think about the implications of why both of you still remember that about each other, flipping through the pages of the menu instead. When you do spot a delectable preview of the waffles, though, you’re immediately sold.

The waitress comes by to take your orders a few minutes later. As she asks if both of you wanted to order coffee in advance, Seungcheol speaks on your behalf.

“Just one coffee and your best hot chocolate.”

Your mouth hangs agape even when the waitress makes her leave, and Seungcheol glances at you with brows raised. “Oh, shit. Do you not prefer hot chocolate over coffee anymore?”

“No, I still do,” you mumble. “I was just…surprised you still remembered.”

Seungcheol doesn’t reply, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn red as the dark sky begins to light up behind him.

There’s nothing remotely romantic about that breakfast run, really. The waffles are good, so is the hot chocolate. But not even those little recollections from the past could ease you and Seungcheol back to normalcy so easily. Worst part is, this is the first time you’ve eaten outside without Jeonghan, so the entire meal is spent in the most awkward of silences.

But…when the sun finally rises in the far east, you and Seungcheol find a momentary common ground. Both of your gazes are trained on the way it peeks above the high rise buildings and skyscrapers—the iridescent rays breaking through both the clouds and the darkness of the night.

Before you knew it, it was a brand new day.

The fascination brought about by the sunrise doesn’t last all that long. You and Seungcheol are back to finishing your food in the ear-splitting silence like usual. However, you can’t help but sneak a few glances every now and again—especially with how the sunlight makes him look even more vibrant than he already is.

No one would catch you admitting to it, but he looks gorgeous like this. Gorgeous enough to make you wonder where everything went wrong.

Except you do know, and you’re hell-bent on fixing…whatever this is before Jeonghan comes back.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes flicker to meet yours with an inquisitive stare. “What?”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you continue, “When did you move to Seoul? Actually, when did you even start playing professionally?”

He swallows down his food before reaching for a glass of water. You try not to pay too much attention to how his throat bobs with each gulp. It’s way too early to get your head into the gutter—

“Right after college, I got scouted to train under the professional league in Seoul,” he explains. “I only started playing in official games about…three years ago, though.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure of how he’ll take your next question.

“Why didn’t you come find me then?”

There it is—silence even more awkward than the last. Seungcheol affixes you with an unreadable stare that makes you want to squirm beneath his gaze. But instead of prolonging your suffering, he simply lets out a soft sigh.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again after what I did,” he says honestly. “Besides, it’s been…years since we split up. I thought you would’ve already moved on by then.”

It took me ten fucking years to move on from you but okay.

You nod before taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “I see. How did you meet Jeonghan?”

“Friend of a friend,” Seungcheol tells you. “Kind of thought he was a nuisance at first, but you know how he gets when he wants something.”

That, you can agree on. “Unstoppable.”

“I was at his mercy,” he attests with a soft laugh. “It took a while, but I fell in love with him eventually. Then we moved in together. Then—”

“He suddenly brings up the fact that he’s attracted to one of his employees?” you supply with an uneasy smile.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Jeonghan has more tact than that, you know. But he was honest about how he felt about you, and asked if I was open to the idea of going for the set-up we have now.”

“Were you?”

You thought he’d exercise some caution answering that. Or at least show you a hint of hesitation. But Seungcheol is surprisingly not taken aback by your question, and answers with, “Strange enough, yeah. Normally, I’m really possessive of him, but when he came up to me that day and proposed the idea…I was completely alright with it.”

Your brows scrunch together. “Is it because you knew it was me?”

“God, no,” he sighs. “If I knew it was you, I would’ve disagreed right away. When I saw you at the restaurant that day, I had to keep myself from running back outside.”

“Ditto,” you chuckle. “It was like the universe giving me the biggest fuck you in existence.”

For the first time in years, the two of you share an easygoing laugh—the morning light making you feel even warmer than you already are.

You and Seungcheol finish up with the rest of your meals after that. It’ll take a while for you to reach the office since this particular restaurant is a bit out of the way. You don’t blame Seungcheol for his urgency as he leads you back to the parking lot, seeing as you only have about an hour left before Joshua marks you off as a latecomer.

The drive back is quiet, but it’s, by no means, awkward or uncomfortable. Seungcheol talks to you every now and again, asking if he should sort out your stuff for you once he takes your suitcase home or if you wanted to organize it yourself. His thoughtfulness flusters you so much, you end up not giving him an answer at all.

When you’re finally in front of your office building with ten minutes to spare—never underestimate rush hour traffic—Seungcheol tugs on your elbow before you get out of his car.

“Did you mean it?” he asks.

You tilt your head, confused. “Mean what?”

“When you said you were only doing this for Jeonghan?”

Oh. He still remembers what you said at the restaurant, the first time you saw him after years.

You consider it for a moment—only a moment, since you’re burning daylight here. Back then, you’re sure you meant every single word. You were shocked and hurt by Seungcheol’s mere presence in front of you, but because you loved Jeonghan so much, you were willing to make a few compromises just to be with him.

Now, though?

“I…don’t know,” you admit.

There’s a first for everything—and this is the first time you’ve ever seen Choi Seungcheol’s face light up in the face of uncertainty.

…

Your arrangement is pretty simple.

Seungcheol drives you to and from work whenever he doesn’t have games, and you agree to cook him some dinner as compensation.

Tonight, though, your chaperone has a practice match that’s running a little late, so you decide to hang back in the office even later than Joshua, who’s usually the last person who times out for the day. You reassure him that Jeonghan is going to keep you company through FaceTime while you wait for Seungcheol to come pick you up, and it seems that your boyfriend’s secretary is more than convinced with that line of reasoning.

“He took you to that fancy breakfast place?!” Jeonghan squawks from the other side of the screen. “He hasn’t even taken me there!”

“Well, whose fault is it for going on a sudden business trip?” You stick your tongue out at him as you do some last-minute paperwork on your laptop. “Better luck next time, Hannie.”

“Hmph. I’ll go there by myself when I get back to Seoul! Who needs companionship anyway?”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. “That’s funny coming from a guy who has two partners.”

“...Okay, good point.”

Jeonghan always proves to be excellent company even when he isn’t physically here with you. Your boyfriend does an excellent job in keeping you entertained—from stories about who’s having an affair with who in the conference he’s attending to all the delicious food he wants to eat with you and Seungcheol one day, he tells you all of it.

But about an hour into the call, Seungcheol still hasn’t texted you, and your eyelids are starting to droop.

“I think you should take a nap first, sweetheart,” Jeonghan suggests, concern lacing his delicate features. “Go on, I’ll keep watch.”

“As if you can do anything if some lunatic tries to murder me in my sleep.”

“Hey, I’d still be an important eye witness if that was the case.” He chuckles. “Now go to sleep. I’ll tell Seungcheol to text me once he’s there so the guards can let him up.”

Normally, you would’ve argued but…

“Fine…”

…

Seungcheol has only gone inside yours and Jeonghan’s office building twice in his life. The first time was to surprise him on his birthday, and the second was after an argument so bad, they almost broke up.

On his third time, the other employees have long since left the building. It’s only the security guards and…well, you.

He didn’t mean to make you wait so long, really. But what was meant to be just one practice match turned into three as extra preparation for his game tomorrow evening. Seungcheol felt a familiar bout of déjà vu at the thought of having to make you wait longer than you’re supposed to.

In short, he didn’t like it, and when his teammates requested for a fourth match despite it already being ten o’clock in the evening, Seungcheol was ready to bail.

Even the guilt that roots itself into his chest once he sees you dozing off in front of your laptop is familiar. He doesn’t deserve your patience, really, but he’ll gladly accept it.

To his surprise, he notices that you’re in a FaceTime call with Jeonghan, who he just texted a few minutes ago so he could come fetch you from the office. His lover waves at him from the other side, casting him a smile that Seungcheol has grown to miss with each day he’s away.

“She waited for two hours, you know,” Jeonghan scolds.

“I know. I’ll make it up to her later,” Seungcheol laughs before leaning closer to wake you—

“Cheol?”

Perking up at the sound of Jeonghan calling his name, Seungcheol glances at your phone with a puzzled expression. “Yeah?”

He opens his mouth as if meaning to say something, only to close it again and shake his head.

“It’s—it’s nothing,” he laughs, almost like he’s embarrassed. “I love you. Both of you.”

Seungcheol feels his chest pang with warmth, eyes flickering from Jeonghan then to your peaceful form, hunched over the desk.

“I love you, too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Both of you.”

…

Jeonghan [5:15 P.M.]: love, can you bring cheol his favorite energy drink before his game?

Jeonghan [5:15 P.M.]: it’s kind of his pre-game tradition, but they won’t let food deliveries past the gates. gotta give it to him in person.

Me [5:20 P.M.]: sure thing. cheol already asked me to do that tho, so i told joshua i’m timing out early.

Jeonghan [5:21 P.M.]: ah, that’s great news <3 take care on the way!

Jeonghan [5:30 P.M.]: wait. cheol ASKED you to?

...

Like Jeonghan had requested, and like you promised to Seungcheol, you handed him his favorite energy drink—a niche brand that wasn’t available in any of the vending machines, picky little bastard—ten minutes before they had to do their warm-ups. He stared at you like he didn’t expect you to actually follow through with what you said, and nearly killed you with a bone-crushing hug.

“Thanks,” he whispered breathlessly into your ear before planting a wet kiss on your cheek. “I’ll clean up quickly after the game so we can go home and have dinner.”

Immediately after, Seungcheol bolted at the sound of one of his teammates calling for him, leaving you standing there, red-faced.

It’s almost the same thing each time you meet him before all of his games. Seungcheol spends a few seconds convincing himself that you’re not a mirage before taking the drink you personally got for him. Then, like some sort of good luck ritual, he kisses your cheek and heads back to the field just in time for warm-ups.

You honestly didn’t think you’d be so willing to run all these errands on his behalf. Hell, you didn’t think you’d find yourself seated amongst thousands of spectators as one of your boyfriends kills it on the field.

You’ve been to Seungcheol’s games back then, so you thought you were already prepared for the audience’s loud cheers once you settled into your seat. But you completely overlooked the fact that the open field in your old high school is insurmountably different from the biggest indoor stadium in the country.

So when Seungcheol’s team rakes in victory after victory, you feel just the slightest bit of pride swelling in your chest. Who knew that the same guy who often ditched football practices to go on dates with you in the past would become such a rising star in only a few years?

On their last game for the week, Seungcheol gets hailed as the MVP of the season, and you tell yourself that he absolutely does not have to know that you nearly screamed your lungs out when his name was announced on the big screen. Definitely not.

Seungcheol ends up finding you before you can find him once the awards ceremony has been concluded—making a show of biting the piece of 24-carat gold hanging from his neck. You roll your eyes before taking out something you’ve expertly hidden in a wide tote bag.

“Congrats on beating their asses, I guess,” you say sheepishly before handing him a perfectly arranged bouquet of—

“Gladiolus?” Seungcheol smirks when he accepts your gift. “You sure did your research, huh?”

“Hey, the info is easily accessible on the internet,” you huff, yet still pose accordingly when Seungcheol fishes out his phone to snap a picture. “Not much effort was required to pull this off.”

“Sure it didn’t.”

When he finally stops teasing you about the present you got for him, Seungcheol proposes to have dinner somewhere fancy—an idea you might’ve flat-out rejected at first, but choose to consider. Just this once.

But before you can give him the green light, a couple of his teammates come up to the both of you with congratulatory smiles. You recognize them as Kim and Jeon—two players who also caught your eye on the field. Seungcheol introduces them as Mingyu and Wonwoo respectively, and out of the blue, Mingyu invites the two of you to the team’s victory party happening at a nightclub just across the street.

You expect Seungcheol to immediately agree. After all, he’s the star of the season. His presence there is practically tantamount. But instead, he glances at you with a questioning look.

“We don’t have to show up if you’re tired,” he says. “I know my games have been keeping you up late.”

Wonwoo nods in agreement. “True. Besides, we can have more exclusive celebrations once our coach has given us this season’s payroll. Tonight is more of a free-for-all than a victory party, actually.”

“No, I’m good.”

Mingyu cheers at your response, while Seungcheol’s eyes widen just a fraction. “You sure?”

You know he’s only being this way because Jeonghan probably told him about the Myeongdong Incident, A.K.A., an office party from a few years back, where you made an absolute fool out of yourself for downing one weird shot too many. Your boss-slash-boyfriend hasn’t let you live it down since.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Besides, this is your night. What kind of fiend would that make me if I hog you all to myself?”

Wonwoo lets out a very loud wolf whistle that has the tips of Seungcheol’s ears turning pink with embarrassment, and it takes all your self-control to keep yourself from snapping a pic.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Don’t expect me to take care of you if you go overboard, though. Got that?”

…

Except he does take care of you when you inevitably go overboard.

Like in every instance where you find yourself wasted beyond belief (move over Soonyoung, someone has taken the crown), the details are a bit muddled in your brain. You just remember seeing a bunch of women in skimpy outfits crowding your boyfriend right after he gave his MVP-of-the-season speech, and it was all over for you.

You’re not very sure, but you might’ve put on a bit of a…territorial display out there. You also might’ve done a body shot on Seungcheol before kissing him in front of everyone just to prove a point.

Again, you’re not sure, so you’re innocent until proven guilty.

“Cheol, ‘sso hot,” you mumble as he props you upright on the king-sized mattress back home. “Turn on the…air conditioner, please.”

You hear him laugh. What’s so funny?

“Baby, it’s twenty degrees outside,” he says. “That’s just the alcohol. Come on, drink this so you can sober up a little. You can’t take a shower if your head’s still spinning.”

Your eyes are still screwed shut, so you don’t know what exactly it is he’s offering. Still, you say, “Don’t wanna.”

Seungcheol sighs. “Please? Jeonghan said your hangovers get worse when you don’t freshen up before sleeping.”

Jeonghan… The mere mention of your lover has you writhing on the mattress, chasing after the remnants of his scent on the sheets.

“I miss Hannie…” you whine, unconsciously letting Seungcheol prop you back up as he places whatever drink he’s forcing you to ingest in your hands. “When’s he coming back?”

“In a week or so, baby,” he reassures. “Now, drink. Please?”

You’ve never felt more thirsty at that first drop of water in your mouth, downing the entire glass like you did with those shots back at the party. Seungcheol chuckles again, and you open your eyes a bit to shoot him an unamused look.

“There we go,” he commends. “That’s my good girl. You want some more?”

Oh… You might be in the ninth circle of intoxication right now, but you heard those words come out of Seungcheol’s mouth loud and clear. And they are not doing your poor underwear any favors.

If you were sober, you think you would’ve had an internal meltdown about that…inappropriate reaction you had to Seungcheol’s completely harmless words. But you tell yourself not to overanalyze every single thing for once and just let your not-ex-boyfriend take care of you.

“Yes, please.”

About an hour later, you’re fresh from the shower and tucked in bed—body still weighted by both fatigue and the leftover intoxication. You don’t see it when he does, but Seungcheol’s stare lingers a second too long once he climbs on the other side of the mattress.

King size is huge, especially without Jeonghan sharing the same space with both of you. But Seungcheol hasn’t tried to close the distance that your lover’s absence has introduced. He doesn’t want to be the one to come onto you, especially with the way he left things between you in the past.

But on nights like this, when he hears your soft snores on the other side, he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold you in his arms. Just like he used to.

Before he lets those introspective thoughts consume him, Seungcheol turns off the lamp on the bedside table—hopefully turning off his brain in the process.

In the right time, maybe.

…

You can’t sleep.

The burn of inebriation has long been flushed out of your system, but your skin still feels like it’s on fire. When you turn to the side to face the man you’re currently sharing this too-massive bed with, that’s when you realize that your body is being engulfed by a different kind of heat.

Eyes parsing through the darkness, you figure that Seungcheol is still fast asleep as you move over to scoot closer to him—taking your pillow and comforter with you.

You would’ve been more reserved with your actions on any other day, but now you wrap your arms around the broad circumference of his bicep—breathing in the fresh scent of his shirt like a well-known comfort. It helps you relax a little, but you know this isn’t nearly enough to address the throbbing between your thighs.

Fuck.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your heart lurches at the realization that you woke him up. Seungcheol moves to glance at you with sleepy yet concerned eyes—wondering what on earth possessed you to cling to him like this. You can’t even bring yourself to meet his gaze without crumbling from embarrassment.

“I…”

He hums. “What? I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t sleep,” you mumble.

Seungcheol nods. “Okay. Why?”

You press your forehead into his arm, letting out an internal scream.

Are you really going to tell him?

“...’m aching.”

“Aching?” he asks, brows raised. “Well you kinda danced your heart out earlier. Where does it hurt? Maybe I can help.”

You take what might be the deepest inhale you’ve taken in your entire life before untangling your arms around Seungcheol’s—using your free hand to guide him lower, lower, until his hot fingers are resting above the apex of your thighs.

“Here.”

He’s quiet—maddeningly so.

You don’t think your pride can handle it if he gets out of bed and leaves you again. In fact, you might just flee the country altogether. Change your name, and start anew in some faraway land. But Seungcheol is quick to recover from the absolute stupor you just subjected him to.

The next thing you know, he’s manhandled you in a way that has you trapped between his broad frame and the bed—gaze boring into you so intensely, you nearly moan.

“Look at me,” he commands sternly. “Are you serious? You’re not still drunk, are you? Do you really want to…?”

Despite yourself, you roll your eyes. “Cheol, if I was drunk, I would’ve already jumped you without a second thought.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

God, you forgot how insufferable he can be.

Now that the drowsiness has long left your body, replaced by something more untamable, more volatile, you lace your fingers around Seungcheol’s neck—pressing your foreheads together.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you whisper. “I can’t sleep because I’m horny as hell. If you don’t do anything about it, you’re sleeping on the goddamn couch.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

Seungcheol smashes your lips together like he’s been deprived of your kiss for lifetimes and more—one hand going to the back of your head, and the other beneath your waist so he can press your hips impossibly closer. You thought those makeout sessions back in the high school locker rooms were the hottest ones you’d ever get to experience from him, but apparently, marinating in ten years’ worth of longing charges the air with enough sexual tension to make you dizzy.

You breathe his name against his lips as he explores every inch of your mouth—mapping it out with his tongue as if relearning something he never thought he’d get to relive again. When you feel him grinding his hardening length against your thigh, you take his bottom lip between your teeth in heady anticipation.

You want him so badly. Wanted him all this time, and you’re just realizing how much of an idiot you were for depriving each other for so long.

“Cheol,” you whimper, mouth still hot against his as you roll your hips. “Need— Need you.”

“I’m right here, baby,” he whispers. “I’m never leaving again.”

In your lust-drunk daze, you couldn’t completely comprehend the meaning behind those words, but your heart responds in kind—racing in your ribcage so quick, you thought you’d pass out.

However, Seungcheol is intent on keeping you wide awake and completely aware of every single thing he’s going to do to you. He’s quick to take off your shirt, and you’re an all-too willing accomplice. A rush of pride surges through you when Seungcheol groans at the sight of your bare tits.

“You have no idea,” he starts, voice husky with arousal as he peppers your breasts with hungrry kisses, “how much I missed these. Knowing Han gets to play with them while I can’t drove me fucking insane.”

“They’re all yours now, Cheol,” you chuckle before your breath hitches all of a sudden once he bites down harshly on your skin.

“All mine,” he growls.

His shirt is gone the next moment, and the reaction you have to seeing him completely shirtless isn’t so different to how he took the sight of your breasts for the first time in a long time. This man is fucking huge—all bulging pecs and rock hard abs. You would’ve laid him down on the bed just to take your time to worship his ridiculously fit body (thank God for their tireless training), except Seungcheol doesn’t look like he has any plans on relinquishing control tonight.

Not after he’s waited for you all this time.

Even if you tell him you’re too goddamn horny for foreplay, Seungcheol isn’t having any of it. He splays himself between your thighs—a sight that’s all too new to you. Back then, you’d simply experimented on occasional fingering and a handjob, but oral was foreign territory.

And just thinking of having the mouth that just won’t stop running on you is enough to drive you up a wall.

Seungcheol doesn’t need any words to make you feel good. Once he’s bruised the inside of your thighs with his rough, biting kisses, he tears through your underwear before tossing it to the side. Before you can even utter out a single word in complaint, though, he’s flattening his tongue along your slit—licking a long, broad stripe that has you preening on the mattress.

He spreads you open with his fingers, making sure there’s no inch of your pussy untouched by his greedy tongue. When Seungcheol moves to press a single finger at your entrance, the sound you let out is unholy. You nearly hide your face out of shame, but Seungcheol reprimands you the second you move away.

“Keep those eyes on me, baby,” he growls. “Watch how I fuck you on my fingers. Watch how I’ll make you fall apart with my mouth.”

You practically buck your hips along with the shallow thrusts he makes with that long, thick digit. You can’t even begin to imagine how good it’ll feel once he sticks his throbbing cock inside of you, but you tell yourself that patience is a virtue. Seungcheol has always had a mean streak, and you’d rather not get teased to death tonight.

When he slides in the next finger, you can already feel the stretch. Seungcheol distracts you from it with his tongue—flicking it against your clit in a way that has your toes curling with the preciseness of his movements. It makes you wonder how many women he’s done this to get this good, but the thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Still, you can’t complain. After all, you’re reaping all the benefits from whatever past experience he’s had over the last ten years. You’d be a fool not to take complete advantage of that.

“So fucking wet for me,” Seungcheol sighs before spitting on your cunt—lathering his spit with your dripping essence—and the sight makes you tug at his hair in your horny delirium.

“You’re going to kill me,” you whisper hoarsely.

Seungcheol snickers condescendingly before pulling out his fingers from your sopping cunt. Then, he raises them to your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips to make way for his fingers a bit too easily, lathering the underside with your tongue as the tangy taste of your essence fills your senses. There’s a dangerous look in Seungcheol’s eyes as you lick his fingers, and something tells you that, despite the heavy fatigue from his past games, this one still has a lot more vigor to offer.

Seungcheol moves to discard his boxers, and you try not to look too desperate for his cock—pressed firmly against his toned stomach before he pumps it with his fist.

“On your knees, sweetheart,” he sighs. “Raise that ass for me.”

“No.”

He frowns, obviously not used to his authority being tested in bed. “And why is that?”

Like a bullet straight through his skull, you rest back on the plush comfort of the pillows, spreading your legs so tantalizingly, Seungcheol almost pounces at you without thinking. You’re posed so sexily on the same bed he’s dreamed of taking you on countless times—offering your sweet cunt for him to take.

“I want to see you, Cheol,” you tell him with a bossy undertone that makes him fall in love with you all over again as you beckon him closer.

“So are you just going to stare at me all night, or are you going to fuck my soul out of my body?”

You’re so fucking daring. And Seungcheol is so fucking whipped.

There’s something so new yet so familiar with the way Seungcheol handles your body. Each touch is imbued with all the time he wishes he could have spent with you; each moan, a timeless rendition of all the words he wanted to say to you. You can’t even let yourself go to the feeling of him ramming his thick girth into your pussy because you’re overwhelmed by the surge of emotions he quietly imbues into your body.

When Seungcheol notices you crying, he immediately halts each and every movement—panic eclipsing the hunger he’s been keeping down for weeks. But when he realizes the tears aren’t from pain, his eyes soften.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tugging him back down into a messy kiss. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Fuck. He isn’t sure what to feel right now. Bliss because you’re clamping down on his cock so deliciously tight? Relief because he doesn’t seem like the only one who’s still tormented by the past?

I love you, he wants to say. I never stopped, and I never will.

But he won’t say it. Not yet. He doesn’t want you to think he’s saying it in the spur of the moment, or because his emotions are especially high-strung now that he’s balls-deep inside you.

He’ll tell you when Jeonghan is back, and the three of you can all start this strange, strange relationship from scratch.

When you finally reach the high you’ve desperately been clawing after—as evidenced by the angry red marks on Seungcheol’s back—he commits the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head in the pinnacle of release into memory. It renders him completely fucking wrecked for you, spilling into your awaiting heat as he fucks himself into completion.

You’re both sweaty and sticky by the time Seungcheol collapses back on the mattress, but you don’t care. Though he’s frayed every single nerve-ending beneath your skin with that blistering orgasm, you let yourself bask in the encompassing warmth of his body.

For the first time in years, you fall asleep in Seungcheol’s arms—like a quiet forgiveness you’ve decided to afford both him and yourself.

…

Jeonghan arrives back in Seoul a week ahead of schedule.

After hearing about all the records that Seungcheol has broken for himself this season, he wanted nothing more than to hop on the first train back home and be with the two people he cherishes the most.

So, like the natural schemer he is, he asked his beloved secretary if there was any way to cut this gruesome business trip short. Long story short, after learning (through completely legal means!) that his annoying business partner has a troublemaking son that’s been laundering money behind his back, Jeonghan is quick to pull some strings.

Once the news reached said business partner, he was immediately apologizing to Jeonghan for having to postpone the deal because of a personal matter.

Now, he’s back home—closing the front door to their house as quietly as he could.

It’s no later than six in the morning, and while you’d usually be up and about as you got ready for work by this time, he remembers that it’s Saturday, and how you loved to sleep in.

As Jeonghan places his luggage somewhere in the living room, however, he notices that the flower vase on the coffee table—strategically placed for aesthetic, yet is usually empty—has an assortment of colorful blooms spilling out.

Gladiolus flowers. Seungcheol’s birth flower.

When he opens the door to the bedroom with curious eyes, his heart is put at ease at the sight before him. You and Seungcheol lie there without an inch of distance separating you—limbs tangled together with the sheets in a way Jeonghan has only dreamed of seeing.

He breathes out a soft laugh, smiling to himself.

“It’s about time, my two beloved idiots.”

part one - part two - part three | masterlist

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan #s.coups #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan #🐇 500 #full length fic 📚

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Personal Time

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Personal Time Series Masterlist

Summary: You're helping Steven to find his reading glasses when you accidently find his personal toys instead.

A/N: Okay, so I have sat on this for a while. I wrote it while I was a little out of it late last year with a fever, and, erm, yes. Here it is. I obviously have a think about people saying 'please' (we don't have time to unpack that) and amazingly the fucking actually takes place on a bed for once. (We definitely dont' have time to unpack that - literally just realised earlier that so much smut I write happens on a settee?)

Warnings: Oh, haha, where do I start? Anal fingering, anal sex with a dildo, dry humping, reader thinking about wishing they had a dick so they could fuck Steven with it, pegging (sort of, it's with a dildo and not a strap), swearing - so much swearing, Steven has a praise kink, kinda sub!Steven? typos I am sure, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning.

Word Count: 3071

________________________________

You hadn’t meant to go snooping. You really hadn’t.

Steven had asked you to look through the drawers. He had misplaced his reading glasses and was frantically scouring the flat for them, or his spare pair - whichever he found first.

That was when you asked if you could help and he had directed you to the large chest of drawers near his bed. Hoping his spare pair was in there ‘somewhere’.

You searched the top drawer first, with no success. It was only on the third one from the bottom that you found something. But obviously not what Steven had intended on you finding.

There was a battered shoe box jammed in on the left hand side and you had innocently taken the lid off, hoping for a glasses case. Instead you found a collection of items that were of a more… personal nature.

You paused, the lid in your hands, your eyes trained on the objects inside, your lips pressed together in surprise. Your mind had short circled just a little bit. Were these Steven’s? Did he know that they were in there?

Maybe you should just put the lid back on and pretend you hadn’t seen anything. That would be the best thing, wouldn’t it? The sensible thing.

It wasn’t like you and Steven hadn’t had sex, and you didn’t have a problem with him (or Marc or Jake) owning toys and using them. It just seemed a bit… impolite. It wasn’t like he had shown them to you himself. After all, he might not want-

“I found them love, they were…” Steven’s voice made you visibly jump.

You spun around too quickly to face him, heat rising to your face. The shoe box lid still clutched in your hands.

Maybe he didn’t realise, maybe you could-

He swallowed, his throat bobbed as he made an audible gulping noise that could have been almost comedic if you didn’t feel like a rogue sniper taking you out at that very moment would be the best thing in the world.

He was obviously looking at your hands. “I-”

“I didn’t mean to,” you blurted out, rushing the words so that they blurred together. “I’m sorry, not that there’s anything wrong with it, I mean, I didn’t see anything, I just thought your glasses… could… be…” You slowed as Steven gave you a lopsided smile.

He ran a hand through his hair, “yeah, erm, just a couple of things in there, really. For, you know, some alone time.” There was a little flush in his cheeks and running up his neck.

“So they’re yours?” You spoke before you could actually think about what you were saying.

“Oh, er, yep,” he smiled a little nervously, the thought of pinning ownership on Marc or Jake hadn’t crossed his mind. “All mine.”

You nodded, chewing at your bottom lip for a second. Steven shifted his stance ever so slightly, the smallest action. But it was something you recognised, and you were suddenly very sure that the heat in his face wasn’t from embarrassment.

“Do Marc and Jake ever use them?”

He shook his head quickly. His breathing had gotten a little faster.

“But you use them on yourself?” You lowered your voice ever so slightly, taking a step towards him.

He nodded, his fingers fiddling with his shirt sleeves.

You took another step so that you were nearly touching. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, see how wide his pupils had grown. “Do you like using them on yourself?”

He swallowed again, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”

“Would you show me?” You brushed your lips over his jaw, feather light in your touch.

Steven breathed in sharply. He was watching you intently, mesmerised by your movements as you began to slowly slide your hand up his chest.

“Would you show me how you use them?” You blinked heavily at him and he groaned, grabbing hold of your face and pulling you into a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as he moaned into you, whimpering as you nipped at his bottom lip and trying to chase your mouth when you moved away.

You didn’t have to ask again.

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll show you.” He sounded wrecked already, his heart beating so fast as he kissed your mouth again hurriedly before trailing down to your neck to run his teeth over your pulse point.

You let out a little surprised gasp and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulder, holding him against you.

“Are you sure?”

He moaned an affirmative into your neck as he sucked at your skin.

“I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to.” You managed to say through a moan.

Steven glared at you, kissing you roughly before taking your hand and pressing it against his trousers.

He was painfully hard and aching. His cock twitching under your touch as you palmed his erection.

“Fuck,” you muttered, breathing heavily. Heat began to pool between your legs.

“Want you to see love,” he murmured against your ear as you stroked him through his trousers. “Want you to watch me.”

You nodded furiously and managed to drag yourself away from him.

He whined a little as you stepped back, lamenting your closeness.

Quickly you grabbed the shoe box, throwing the lid haphazardly into the still open drawer, and pushed it into his open hands.

You took a few steps backwards, leaning against the chest of drawers and watched Steven intently.

“I want you to do it as if I wasn’t here.”

Steven moaned quietly as he bit his lower lip, his eyes were hooded and dark. He nodded once before he put the box on the bed and pulled off his clothes, leaving them as a pile on the floor before climbing back onto the bed completely bare.

You let out a shuddered breath. You’d seen him naked before but you’d never grow tired of it. The slight flush to his skin, the way he curled his toes against the mattress, his hard cock smearing precome over his stomach.

He pushed himself further onto the bed until he was laying on his back with his head on the pillows, his dark hair fanning out around him.

He breathed heavily for a moment, trying to settle the spark of excitement that was running through his limbs. He hadn’t thought you watching him would arouse him so much.

With a practised ease, he fished the bottle of lube out of the box and flicked it open one handedly as he planted his feet firmly on the bed and spread his legs. If he was honest, it was a little wider than he usually did, his movements a little slower and more precise, trying his best to put on a bit of a show.

A small pinch of panic worried his chest, what if you didn’t like this. He glanced over to you and relief flooded over him instantly. His dick twitched. You were watching him with rapt attention, your chest rising and falling as you tried your best to control yourself.

He kept his gaze on you as he coated two fingers with the cool liquid and slowly sunk them into himself.

Steven moaned loudly, and truthfully a little louder than he would have if he was alone, at the sensation. The stretch.

You groaned as he entered himself, rubbing your legs together to try to ease the growing ache.

Steven moved his fingers slowly in and out of himself, thrusting his hips up ever so slightly when he sunk them in as far as he could reach. It was never quite far enough, no matter how hard he tried he was never able to hit that special spot inside with just his own fingers.

It still felt good though. He moaned again, whimpering as he sisscored his fore and index fingers and felt his body try to resist. The tension boiling along his skin and adding to the pleasure building in his belly.

He threw his head back, forcing his fingers as wide as they could go as he picked up the pase and fucked himself mercilessly.

You let out a whispered “fuck.” Wetness soaking your underwear, you couldn’t help yourself as you slid your hand underneath your clothes and ran your finger over your clit, circling it in time to Steven’s movements.

Your little moans and whimpers went straight to his cock, how eager you were to watch him, how much you wanted to, it was all too much. The tension in the base of his cock was building far quicker than it normally did. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Slowly he pulled his fingers out of himself with a wet pop, and, with his other hand, grabbed his purple dildo from the box. It was thick and realistically shaped with a sucker on the bottom to presumably attach it to the floor or walls.

The sudden thought of Steven sticking it against the tiles in his shower and harshly fucking himself against it as hot water ran along his back filled your mind.

He took another sneaky glance at you and you caught his eye, biting your lip as he squeezed another generous amount of lube over the length of it.

He couldn’t help but watch your hand as you touched yourself, lost in the movements.

“I usually,” he swallowed, his mouth dry. “I usually just sit on it and wank myself off.”

You bit down hard on your lip as you moaned, the image of Steven sitting up in bed rocking back ever so slightly on the dildo so that it ground into him as he worked on his weeping cock was too much.

“But,” he paused for a second, “maybe, only if you want, you could-”

“Yes,” you blurted out, pulling your shirt over your head as you rushed towards him. You flung your clothes off hastily until you were as bare as he was and then joined him on the bed, kneeling by his side.

Steven looked up at you with lust filled eyes, as he drank in every inch of your naked body.

“Maybe you could,” he bit his lip, his voice low, “put it in me?”

You wined, rubbing your legs together again to ease the ache and nodded.

He handed you the dildo and you took the end, holding it still as Steven poured and spread more lube over it.

God, it was thick. Your mouth went dry, how did he even fit all this in himself? The thought was meant to be a concern and guilt settled in your stomach as you felt a fresh wetness against your thighs.

Would you really like that? To fill him up so much that he didn’t even remember his own name? To fuck him so hard that he was screaming yours? The flutter of your walls answered the question for you.

He nodded and you moved between his legs.

“Will you tell me if I do it wrong?”

Steven smiled. “You won’t. But I’ll tell you, don’t worry love.” He reached out to you and you gave him your free hand, he lent up a little to press a kiss against your knuckles.

Carefully, you moved the tip of the dildo against him. Some of the lube from his earlier actions was slowly leaking out and you had to practically bite your tongue in two to stop yourself from groaning.

WIth your free hand you cupped his balls, massaging them gently in languid strokes.

“Oh fuck,” Steven threw his head back again, aching his spine ever so slightly.

“Okay?” You asked teasingly as you lightly pressed the tip of the dildo against him.

“Hmmm, uh hummm, more than okay, more than, please love, ah-” he cut himself off with a low rumbling moan as you leisurely eased it inside of him.

Your movements languid as he swallowed more and more, the dildo splitting him open. His thighs tensed, shaking with the press of it, his insides clenching against the silicon and how you wished you could feel it. Feel how tight he was and how hard he squeezed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ah love, so good, so good, please, more, I need it.” He was blabbering, not even fully registering what he was saying.

You continued to rub his balls as you pushed further in. “You’re such a good boy Steven, so good taking all of this.”

“I am, I am,” his eyes were screwed up tight, his hands fisting the bed sheets in an effort to control himself and not come straight away. The fact that it was you doing this to him, controlling the speed and pressure, forcing him to take it made him drown in pleasure.

“So good.” You purred, unable to choose on whether to watch his achingly beautiful face as he moaned, his weeping cock jump as you pushed further in, or his greedy hole taking everything you gave.

“Your good boy, fuck,” he groaned especially loudly as you filled him completely. The silicon balls at the base hitting against his skin.

“My good boy.” You whispered as you were unable to resist pressing on the suction bottom, ever so slightly changing the angle.

“Shiiit!” Steven bucked upwards, his body seizing like he had been electrocuted as molten pleasure ran up his spine.

You flinched your hand away, worried for a second that you had hurt him.

“Again, again, oh please, that was the right spot, please,” he rambled, all his words running together.

You pushed against the bottom of the dildo again, not letting up on the pressure this time as you wiggled it a little from side to side.

Steven moaned so loudly you were sure half of London heard him. Rocking into your movements with a frenzied vigour. A constant string of expletives and nonsense words falling out of his lips.

“Tell me I’m good,” he managed to stammer out between gasps, sweat beading on his forehead and sticking his hair to his skin.

You leant closer to him, keeping up your pressured movement on the dildo. “You’re good Steven, so good. Letting me fuck you like this, letting me fill you up. Taking it all for me.”

“All for you.” He gasped again as you continued to hit his prostate. He moaned your name loudly, and then wined, “I need you to fuck me.”

It took you a second for your brain to catch up with his words, to focus on anything but his face as he moaned.

A second too long for Steven’s liking.

He sat up, grabbing hold of your hips and pulled you towards him until your clit was pressed firmly against the base of the dildo inside of him. He groaned loudly at the pressure as you gasped at the sudden sensation, before he fell back onto the mattress.

He bucked his hips, rubbing the base perfectly against you. “Please, fuck me.” His voice was completely wrecked, his eyes pleading and it was as if your body simply took over.

You grabbed hold of his thighs pulling them over your hips and pushed your pubic bone against the dildo’s base, rutting against him.

Steven gasped, rocking upwards to meet your movements as he started to become truly lost in the sensations.

You rubbed against him relentlessly, hard and fast. Your clit grinding against the base, catching deliciously against the edge with every roll and thrust. It was like it was your dick inside of him, like you could almost feel him twitch and squeeze against you as you moved like you were possessed.

Pleasure was building so quickly in your stomach, wetness leaking out from your pussy and coating your thighs. Your legs burned from the position, but it just was too good to change. Every rub against your clit bringing you closer, and closer to the edge.

Steven’s eyes suddenly shot open, “oh fuck, love, I’m going to-” his moan cut himself off as he came suddenly, spirting hot, thick come all over his stomach and chest.

You growled and thrusted harder, fucking him through his orgasm for all you were worth. Wanting to fuck every single drop out of him.

He rolled his hips back at you, his head thrown back exposing his neck and your orgasm hits you hard. It punches the air out of your lungs and for a second you can’t see anything, can’t feel anything except for the pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Your hips slow and stop as you nearly fall forward on top of him, managing to catch yourself at the last second.

Steven is watching you, his expression dreamlike as he breathes heavily.

You kiss him roughly, forcing your tongue into his mouth until he is moaning against you, pulling at your shoulders for more.

He kisses you back with equal energy, working his tongue against yours as if he could make you come again just from a kiss.

You finally pull away to breathe, your legs are jelly like, shaking as you move to the side and grab some tissue from the box on the bedside table.

Steven smiles at you as you turn back and carefully wipe up most of the cum from his skin. You’ll both have to shower, that was for certain. But that could wait for a minute.

“Do you want me to take it out?” You ask, surprised at the exhaustion in your voice.

Steven shakes his head. “Not yet, but can you hug me please?” He asks a little shyly, as if you both haven’t just come so hard that you saw stars.

You quickly fall into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and kissing all over his face until he laughs.

“Was that,” he swallows a little, not looking at you as anxiety creeps in. “Was that okay?”

“Steven,” you touch his cheek, urging him to move to look at you before you kiss him lightly. “More than okay, fucking amazing.”

He grins. “Okay, good, aces.”

You chuckle, laying your head down to rest against his shoulder.

There is silence for a moment as you both hold each other, sweat cooling on your bodies.

“Maybe we could get you a strap on?” He asks, with such genuine sincerity.

You laugh again and nod eagerly. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he squeezes you tight and mumbles into your forehead. “I would too.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x female reader #x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #x f!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Enticing (Broadchurch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec comes home and ruins your anniversary surprise for himself.

CW: none? it's not smut, but there's lingerie and wandering eyes

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It was supposed to be a surprise for your anniversary. Alec was taking you out to dinner, and you were going to wear a pretty dress with pretty lace in Alec’s favourite colour and when you got home, you were going to sit him down on the edge of the bed, put some sexy music on and undress yourself, show him your pretty new lingerie (also in Alec’s favourite colour) and then ride him until he busted one inside you and wore himself out, the poor thing.

But no. Your plans for the evening? Ruined. All thanks to the man himself.

You’d wanted to make sure the lingerie fitted one more time before you started getting ready for your date night later and Alec decided that this was the one day in the history of his very long, very late career that he needed to come home early. During the daylight, no less. Had Hell frozen over?

And so, he’d ruined the surprise for himself, wandering into the bedroom and seeing you in all your glory. He’d stopped short right in the doorway, mouth dropping open in shock.

“Fuck- sorry,” he’d said at first, thinking he’d just wandered in while you were getting changed. But then he noticed the colour, the lace, the fit. “God, you look- stunning.”

You deflated, arms dropping down to your sides.

“Damn it, Alec- it was supposed to be a surprise. You didn’t knock. You didn’t even tell me you were coming home.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, coming to stand before you. He raked his eyes up your form, and you took notice of the way his eyes dilated with lust. “Just nipped home f’er a wee snack. Forgot my lunch.”

As far as explanations go, it was pretty poor.

“Why didn’t you get something out?”

“Don’t like the food ‘ere,” he said, lips curling distastefully. “Wanted- erm- some of last night's dinner.”

Last night’s dinner was, in fact, pork ribs you’d made. Your speciality. Alec rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I see,” you replied. “Well, you’re here now- what do you think?”

You did a little twirl, squeezing your own hips and smoothing your hands over your barely covered skin.

“Och, darlin’,” Alec says, stepping forward and running a hand up your side. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Nuh-uh,” you tutted, stepping away from his exploratory hands. “You’ve had your sneak peek. Go on, get.”

Alec frowned, giving you unintentional puppy eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. You can unwrap your present when we get home from dinner.”

Alec grumbled but didn’t protest too much after that. Though when you finally did make it to dinner, he seemed pretty eager to eat and get home.

In fact, you didn’t even get dessert. He insisted he had something far sweeter than anything that restaurant had waiting at home for him.

How enticing. How could you say no to that?

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vodika-vibes · 7 months

Note

Fox with fem!reader "prove it" from the how to respond to I want you prompts :3 with reader saying it pretty please 🥺👉👈

Make Me Believe

Summary: Commander Fox has been your friend for months now, and now he wants more. Not that you're complaining.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 1138

Warnings: Smut

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: You want me to write a semi-smutty fic about the actual love of my life and the owner of my entire heart? Oh, well if you insist, lol. I', honestly not happy with the smut portion of this, but I'm pretty sure that that's my perfectionism coming out to play. So I hope this is close to what you wanted?

Divider by Saradika

“You know, you could have chosen literally any other job,” You look up from your datapad and smile at Commander Fox, who’s standing in the doorway to your office, his helmet hanging from his fingers. “Pretty thing like you, you must have had other opportunities other than being the Personal Assistant to the Supreme Chancellor.”

“Well, I considered stripping, but I’m afraid I’m about as coordinated as a drunk three legged masiff.” You joke as you set your datapad to the side, and when your joke is answered with a small smile from Fox, you feel a surge of elation.

He enters your office, and leans his hip against your desk, “I dunno, mesh’la. You’re pretty enough, I bet your clumsiness would be a boon when it comes to dancing.” He teases lightly, as he sets his helmet on an empty spot on your desk.

“Yeah? Would you be one of my repeat customers?” You ask with a grin.

He tilts his head and some of his hair falls into his face, “Yeah,” He finally says, “I would.” Fox’s gaze is serious, “I’d be there everyday to watch you dance.”

You laugh softly and favor Fox with a warm smile, “I was joking, Fox.”

His gaze doesn’t waver from your face, “I wasn’t.”

Your lips part in surprise, “You…what?”

“I want you.” His voice is slow, thoughtful, as if he’s judging your reaction to his words even as he says them. “I have for a while now,” He adds easily.

You could have said anything. A relationship with the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard is a bad idea. He’s a coworker, a friend, and if it goes wrong you run the risk of losing one of your best friends.

But-

You stare at him for a moment longer, “Prove it.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper, and you flush red and clamp your hand over your mouth, “Erm…I mean…”

A grin crosses Fox’s face. It’s sharp and triumphant, and he immediately stops leaning on your desk to stand over you, “I can do that, cyar’ika.” He says as he silently urges you to your feet with a gentle touch.

And then he tugs your arm and you stumble into his chest, his hands immediately settle on your hips and grip tightly. You look up at him, your face still heated with flustered embarrassment, and he grins at you as he bumps his forehead against yours.

“Fox…” You murmur his name softly, and he hums in return.

“Love how you say my name,” He says softly, his hands tighten around your hips and he lifts you to sit you on the edge of your desk and his hands swiftly push your skirt up over your hips so he’s able to settle himself between your legs, but he never once takes his gaze off your face.

You press your hands against his cheeks, your thumb tracing the scar over his nose, “I don’t say it any special way,” You reply quietly, afraid that if you speak too loudly the feel of the room will change.

“Mm. Gonna make you moan my name, want to hear how that sounds.” His lips hover just over yours, and he grins when you lean in to try and close the distance, but he stays just out of reach.

“Fox,” You groan his name in frustration.

His grin broadens, “And then I’m going to make you scream my name, baby. That way everyone knows that you’re mine.”

You squirm against him, “Fox,” his name is a whine this time, “I want to kiss you.”

“You’re not very patient at all, are you, cyar’ika?”

Your pout becomes obvious, “You said you were gonna prove that you wanted me.” You remind him petulantly.

His eyes glitter with amusement, “Oh, I am.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “But…?”

“But, I’m kind of curious how long it’ll take me to get you to beg for my cock, cyar’ika.” Fox replies.

Your jaw drops, and you huff indignantly, “I am not going to beg-” Your sentence is cut off with a ragged moan when he drags one of his gloved fingers over your still covered pussy.

“Oh, my sweet cyar’ika.” He coos, “You’re definitely going to beg.” Now that he has your attention, his touch becomes feather light as he ghosts his fingers up and down your thighs, and totally ignores the spot you want him to touch the most.

You squirm against him, “You’re the worst, Fox.”

“Am I?” He asks teasingly, his lips finally catching your own in a deep kiss, before he drags his lips to your throat and starts nipping on the tender skin there to leave a trail of red marks.

Your breath catches in your throat, “The absolute worst,” You confirm as another shaky moan falls from you.

“So,” The hand that isn’t relentlessly teasing you, moves to your top and starts unfastening buttons, “Does that mean I should stop?” He teases as he pushes your shirt off your shoulders and deftly unfastens your bra and tosses it to the side as well, “Since I’m the worst, after all.” His hand immediately moves to your breast and he lightly pinches one of your nipples, and is rewarded with a moan.

You smile slyly, “Well I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Fox.” His name falls from your lips in a purr, and Fox’s fingers pause where they are.

He blinks at you, dumbly, for a moment, and then he grins, “You’re going to have to prove that to me, princess.” Fox replies.

“What? Now?” You sputter.

“Later.” Fox corrects.

“What makes you think you get a later?” You challenge him.

Fox’s smile becomes smug, “I have you half naked and wet on your own desk, Princess. And I haven’t even really touched you yet.”

Your face heats again, and you avert your gaze.

Fox lightly grips your chin and turns your head so you’re looking at him, “You’re beautiful,” He whispers, “Absolute perfection.”

Your face heats even more, “Fox…”

“I want you so badly.”

You lean in and crash your lips against his, “Make me believe it,” You whisper against his lips.

Fox rips one of his gloves off and tosses it to the side, and then he slides your panties down your legs. And then, finally, he brushes his thumb over your clit, and your hips jerk towards him. “Going to make you feel amazing, cyar’ika.” He breathes against your lips.

“Thought you were going to make me beg,” You tease him as a shuddering moan falls from your lips when he eases a single finger in you and starts to thrust shallowly.

“That’s still the plan,” He replies before he kisses your jaw, “No need to worry, Princess. You’re going to get everything you need.”

#star wars #tcw #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks #18+ fic #clone thirsting

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qodlysinz · 3 months

Text

Needs More Seasoning

Alastor - Hazbin Hotel

CW: blood, mentions of torn off limb, Alastor’s cannibalism 😭😭

Tags: pure crack, Lute’s torn off arm lmao

A/N: erm so I got this idea from a post on tiktok from a comment by someone saying “alastor would debate eating the arm” and I thought it was funny and was inspired to write this LMFAO let’s also ignore the fact that Al disappeared after the battle w the angels bc I couldnt find a logical way to implement him…

Angel Dust grunted as he pushed away the rubble, irritation and worry pricking at his mind as he searched for his beloved pig, Fat Nuggets. His jaw dropped at the sight of glowing angel blood oozing from a piece or cement, an arm crushed beneath it.

He backed away, yelping in disgust. “What the fuck?!” He exclaimed, kicking away as he had fallen back from surprise. Even in his days in the mafia had he been a bit put-off by things like this. Sure, he shot bitches and dumbasses who wronged his family, but a fucking limb?

“Angel? What’s—oh…” Charlie’s voice murmured, her nose scrunched up, slowly holding out her hand and reaching for his. “Vaggie, can you come here?” Charlie called out to her girlfriend. Vaggie walked over, wiping blood from her nose. “Uhhh…” the former exorcist hesitated.

“Whose arm is that?!” Angel pointed at it, “what is Fat Nuggets ate it? It’d upset his stomach!” He then remembered the pig, sighing in relief as Fat Nuggets ran to the sound of his voice and leaping into his lower set of arms. “It was Adam’s lieutenant’s. The psycho bitch must’ve pulled it off herself when the building fell on her.” Vaggie replied, “I’ll throw it off the side.” She added, poking it with her spear and holding it in front of her, nose wrinkled in annoyance.

Alastor appeared before the shorter, humming as he poked at the discarded arm. “Well, now! What’s this you have here?” He asked her, tilting his head to the side curiously. Vaggie groaned, “move it, Alastor! I need to throw this—thing out!”

“Haha! I’ll dispose of it if you wish, my dear.” He politely said, ignoring the blood dripping from his chest as he examined the arm closely. “Fine, whatever, I don’t want to… what are you doing?” She watched as Alastor plucked it from her spear, shifting the arm around and poking it with his free hand and sticking the finger to his tongue. “Oooh, tasty!” He enthusiastically sang. Charlie shuddered, “thank you… Alastor… I’ll go.. uh.. help my dad!” She quickly said, grabbing Vaggie’s hand and running away with her girlfriend, sparing a glance at the cannibalistic Radio Demon.

Angel stared at him, blinking at him weirdly. “You’re weird as shit, Al.” He mentioned, his eyes widening as his jaw dropped when Alastor bit into the arm. “Hmm, could use some seasoning. Do you have any recommendations?” Asked Alastor, wiping the golden blood from around his mouth with a handkerchief. Angel backed up, “yeah, don’t eat Fat Nuggets and use oregano, rosemary, sage, and garlic. I’m sure it’d… um.. satisfy your freakishness.” Mumbled the spider demon before rushing away, saying something about wanting to make sure his hidden drug stash (or sex toys, Alastor didn’t hear him very well) wasn’t destroyed, Alastor didn’t care and he continued to nibble on the arm.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #alastor’s a cannibal lmao #lute’s arm #this is ridiculous #I was laughing sm for some reason #I lowkey love this #radiodust if you squint bc im so obsessed with them #this is short

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

Text

📖"Blood Moon Rising" pt 6

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: shrinkyclinks, prison au, werewolf au, omega Steve, Alpha Bucky, dub-con, non-con, werewolf sex, knotting, oral (m!rec), hand jobs, held hostage, age gap (40/26), forced mating, violence, bonding, Dom/sub elements

Summary: Steve gets a lot more than he bargained for when a prison riot breaks out and he becomes the captive of an Alpha werewolf.

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Fic Masterlist

Part 6 - "In Shades of Purple"

After learning so much new information in the Yurt, Steve needed to get some air. He needed time to process, and maybe think of a last minute escape plan (though none was forthcoming).

He went for a walk along the outskirts of the camp, trying to clear his head. At first he thought he was alone, but then he noticed a rustling from the nearby woods. He looked over, thinking that it was probably a squirrel, and was surprised to see a wolf peeking at him through a bush. With all of Steve’s varied escape attempts thus far, by now he knew that werewolves were more than capable of treading silently in the forest and pouncing without ever being noticed by their prey. If Steve had heard this one’s approach, it was because the wolf wanted him to.

The wolf stepped closer, revealing itself from around the foliage, and Steve’s shoulders relaxed. There were only a couple of pack members whom he recognized by sight in their shifted forms. Most of them tended to be a combination of dull grey and brown, black and white, but Wanda’s fur was almost the same color as her actual hair. “Oh,” Steve said as the wolf walked over. “Oh. Hi Wanda.” He felt so weird speaking normally to her, but he’d been told that the wolves could understand speech just fine in their animal forms, so … “Erm, how’s it going?”

The wolf stepped up close and nudged Steve’s hand with her snoot in a silent greeting.

“I was just taking a walk.” He indicated the treeline he’d been following. “To clear my head. Try and figure out what I’m gonna do about … about tonight.”

Wanda chuffed and shot him what could only be interpreted as a look of judgemental incredulity, making Steve feel stupid.

“Yeah,” he agreed glumly, because what could he really do? Run away again? Commit suicide? Kill Bucky? He had zero interest in any of those options. Running away would only mean getting his slippery ass caught in record time (humiliating), offing himself was cowardice and too dramatic for the circumstances besides (lame), and killing Bucky was, well …

Steve bit his lip. Killing Bucky would just be setting himself up for attack from the rest of the pack. It was beyond dangerous. And even if it weren’t, even if he could somehow magically stab Bucky in the neck and not have to worry about 200+ other werewolves coming after him, he still wouldn’t want to do it.

Of course he’d thought about murdering Bucky—numerous times, usually envisioning some scenario involving killing the alpha while he slept. Unfortunately, Steve couldn’t seriously contemplate such things for more than a minute or two before he’d begin to feel awful and discard the idea. Bucky might be a lot of things, but he hadn’t been cruel to Steve. Not once. Not since the Blowjob From Hell, back at the prison, leastways. Even back then, Bucky had only been doing what he felt he had to, in order to protect Steve from the other alphas in the pack.

And sharing a cabin and a bed with someone and letting them jerk you off night after night, week after week sure as shit didn’t make the idea of murder any more palatable. Bucky wasn’t a monster. He hadn’t treated Steve poorly (other than, ya know, kidnapping and holding him hostage), and he’d clearly ordered the other alphas in the pack to leave Steve alone, as nobody had since bothered Steve beyond scooping him up from his various escape attempts and depositing him back at Bucky’s doorstep. Even the men who’d been the scariest, most aggressive, and most challenging of Bucky’s leadership back at the prison—Drax, Batroc, Killmonger—had respected Bucky’s wishes regarding Steve. And Steve was under no delusion that, if it weren’t for the pack Lupului having laid down the law on who was allowed to touch Steve, then a lot more people would’ve been, by now.

Bucky was undeniably dangerous. He could be ruthless and brutal, taciturn and grumpy, and he was hella rough around the edges. But that didn’t mean he was bad. Now Steve had seen him as a provider, a protector, and a leader; and along with his shredded body and his handsome fucking face, all that together was a damned tempting package.

Yes, Steve was attracted to him. And yeah, his body reacted to the alpha in a powerful, instinctual way. He could admit that now, even though he’d been scared shitless of the guy in the beginning. His whole life, Steve had always been a real believe-in-the-system, do-the-right-thing sort of guy; somebody who would’ve never considered getting involved with an ex-felon, or aiding and abetting a bunch of escapees from a federal prison. And yet here he was, fully not intending to alert the authorities even if by some miracle he did escape.

Here he was, considering just how upset he was over the fact that he was about to be forcefully mated to one. The answer was: not as upset as he should be.

He groaned in frustration and looked down at Wanda, who was still walking right by his side. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Wanda blinked her big, wolfy eyes at him and tilted her head curiously.

“It makes no sense that I like him. Or that I’m not trying harder to run away right now.” Steve smacked at a branch of underbrush as they edged along the woods. “He’s awful. It’s awful that I’m even here at all. I don’t belong here.”

Wanda whined and bumped her body into his leg as they walked, and somehow Steve knew what that meant: She was reminding him of all the good times he’d had with the pack since his arrival.

“Well you didn’t see how he treated me at the prison,” Steve defended. “And he hasn’t exactly been invested in obtaining my consent for most things.” He bit his tongue as he thought about how Bucky had never once asked for permission to touch him … but also how Steve himself had almost never said ‘no’ to those advances when they happened. Was it really inevitable that it’d ended up this way? Or had he just not tried hard enough?

Having someone who looked like Bucky and smelled like Bucky and acted like Bucky around him for so long, pressuring him into a relationship, telling him without words that he wanted him as his mate and mother to his pups … well that kind of stuff built up over time. Even the act of running away had been getting harder each time Steve attempted it—not because he didn’t think he deserved to get out of there, but because he hated the hurt that would flash across Bucky’s face each time he was dragged back and dumped in front of him.

Steve smacked another branch, and that was when Wanda became animated, nudging Steve’s leg with her nose. He took it as a cue to give her scritches behind her ears, but she only shook him off and started grabbing at his hand lightly with her teeth. “Hey!” Steve laughed, pulling his hand back. “What’re you doing?”

She nudged up behind his legs, urging him into the woods, and Steve got the picture that she was trying to lead him somewhere. So he started following. “Where are we going?” he asked her, amused, following along for a few minutes until they reached a dense thicket in a part of the woods Steve had never seen before. Wanda yapped at him once, ducking her head as if to say “Are you paying attention?” Then she went to her belly and began to crawl through a small pass at the base of the thicket.

Steve scoffed. “I’m not going in there.”

Wanda whined and kept crawling, so Steve rolled his eyes and got to his elbows and knees and began crawling in her wake. “This better be good,” he huffed as he pushed past a few thorned branches that caught against his hair and his shirt. “Jeez.”

On the other side of the pass, there was a small grassy area, no bigger than one of the cells back at the prison. It was chock full of a tall, purple flowered plant.

Steve stood up and brushed the dirt from the knees of his pants. “What? We’re going flower picking for the big event?” he looked at Wanda peevishly. “No thanks. I’m not a blushing bride. I don’t need a bouquet.”

Wanda chuffed and shook her head in a decidedly un-wolflike way, and Steve paused with a frown. “Well what then?”

She padded to the edge of where the tall flowers grew and pawed at the leafy bases of the plants. She nudged her head at them as if to say, “Here, stupid.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t understand.” He walked over and touched the flowers. They were pretty: purple and bell-shaped. “What is this?” he murmured, reaching out to touch one of the blooms. “Foxglove?” It had that look about it.

But Wanda growled and shook her head again, and she closed her mouth on one of the plants and pulled, tearing the flower stalk off. She immediately dropped it and moved her tongue in her mouth like a dog with peanut butter stuck in its gums, her pointy little front teeth showing as she sneezed in displeasure.

Steve briefly snickered, before he paused as a crazy thought occurred to him. “Wait a minute. Is that …?” He stepped forward and bent to pick up the stalk that Wanda had pulled. He held it up to his face with a frown. There was only one flower in the world he’d ever heard of in reference to werewolves. “Wanda, is this … this isn’t wolfsbane?” he whispered. “Is it?”

Wanda immediately barked and stomped her front feet in enthusiasm, and Steve looked at her in astonishment.

“The fuck? You want me to kill him?”

Again, Wanda huffed and shook her head no.

Steve looked between her and the patch of flowers, and back to her again. “Well what then?”

Once more, Wanda growled impatiently and went up to grab another stalk and rip it clean off the plant. She dropped it, sneezed, and repeated the peanut butter tongue thing. Steve didn’t understand what on earth she intended for him to do with it, but she was definitely telling him to pick it, growling and fake-snapping at him to urge him on so that she didn’t have to pull any more of the flowers with her mouth.

He might not understand the plan, but Steve’s heart leapt as he did realize one thing; and that was that someway, somehow, Wanda was trying to help him escape.

“Are you nuts?” Darcy said, right after she shifted back to skin and Steve’s eyes all but bugged out of his head at seeing his first, full-body werewolf shift.

“Oh.” He averted his eyes, but it was too late. He’d seen, well, everything.

Darcy stomped back to her bedroom—ostensibly to put on some clothes. Steve hoped. A moment later she returned, dressed in leggings and a tee shirt. She pointed at Wanda and said, “You’re nuts.”

“What? What’d she say?” Steve leaned forward anxiously where he was sitting at the kitchen table, right where they’d dumped the large clump of purple flowered stalks. “I already told her I don’t want to murder anybody!”

Darcy scoffed and came over, sitting down on the opposite side of the table from him. “No. She’s got it in her head that you can drug everybody at the bonfire. Put it in the harvest wine and zonk everybody out long enough for you to make a getaway.”

Steve’s breath stuttered in his chest. “I can?” He looked over at Wanda, who was lying by the woodstove and chewing on the entrails of the squirrel she’d caught for herself on their walk back to Darcy’s cabin. “We can? That’s something we can do?!”

Darcy scowled and rapped her knuckles on the table. “Hello, Earth to Steve. No you can’t do that. How would you even get it in the wine? Everybody’s eyes are gonna be on you tonight. You won’t have a second on your own to—”

At the stove, Wanda whined, and Steve looked over at her. She was staring straight at Darcy with a meaningful look. Steve’s heart leapt as he thought the same thing. “Yeah. Darcy: You could do it!”

“What? No!”

“Yes! Yes you can. You have to!” Steve reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Please? I don’t how much to put in, and like you said: I won’t get the chance. But you could do it when everybody’s distracted by the celebrations!” He looked at her with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, Darce? This is my only chance. Please help me.”

Darcy complained and angsted over it, but Wanda came over and had a non-verbal conversation with her, which culminated in Darcy’s shoulders dropping and Wanda affectionately head-butting her leg. Darcy huffed in defeat, and Steve’s spirits soared. “So you’ll do it?!” he asked. “You’ll help?”

“Help you drug my entire pack on the night of a blood moon.” Darcy groaned. “Fuck. We’ll be in so much trouble if Alpha Barnes ever figures out who did it.”

Steve figured that was as good of a ‘yes’ as he was going to get, and he slapped the tabletop, unable to contain his excitement. “Thank you!”

Darcy glared at him. “Don’t thank me yet. There’s only one person I know who’s got the access we need to the harvest wine. And he could still turn us in.”

“Who?”

“Are you serious?” Peter whispered, wide-eyed as Steve took the lid off the basket and showed him the purple flowers they wanted him to lace the wine with. Darcy had just told him their plan, and now Peter would either turn them in, or help them. “Ohmygod you are. You’re actually friggin’ serious!”

Fuck, Steve thought. He’s gonna turn us in.

“Dude, I’m so in. This is crazy!”

Oh, Steve thought. Okay then. That was easy.

By dusk, the plan was underway. Peter had briefly shifted so he could wolf-talk with Wanda, who told him precisely how much wolfsbane to steep in the wine to knock the pack out but not harm them. Then Peter shifted back and got to work, whilst Steve, Wanda, and Darcy went about their business as usual.

Or, well—as usual as they could manage. Steve was excited, but he felt a creeping sense of dread as the day wore on into late afternoon, and then into early evening; as the village became more and more alive with activity and the pack started to gather in the clearing where the bonfire was being held.

People were bringing out folding chairs and blankets and food like it was the damn fourth of July. Steve would’ve felt more intimidated or embarrassed if he didn’t already know that the excitement wasn’t truly all about him and Bucky. It was a communal sort of excitement, an excitement for the pack Alpha having found his mate, which forebode stability and progress for the pack as a whole. Mating runs were a big deal in this community, warranting late-into-the-night revelry and partying, and with the significance of the blood moon on top of that, the entire village was bound to be out celebrating. Apparently, once Bucky caught Steve and dragged him back (yikes) then the entire pack would shift and run together.

Steve was ushered into the omega yurt, where he was prepared like a lily-white bride on her wedding night. He had to shower with special soaps, then dress in a flimsy white robe that wrapped around and barely reached halfway down his shins. Darcy and Nakia shoved him down into one of the beanbag chairs and rubbed the purple paste all over him. Steve scowled at the robe—a reminder that he was going to have to be naked for this event in front of the entire pack.

Not for long, he consoled himself. By the time the run was announced and Steve sent off with his head start, everyone in the pack should be well on their way to conking out. Even the alphas. Peter was on strict instructions from Wanda to time the bringing out of the wolfsbane-laced wine exactly thirty minutes before the beginning of the mating run. Luckily for Steve, since this was also the night of the blood moon—a night of great cultural significance—they could count on every adult member of the pack drinking the Harvest wine.

The pups of the pack weren’t anything they had to worry about. Wanda, who had the excuse of abstaining due to being pregnant and gestationally shifted, would look after the kids while the others slept off the drugged stupor. And while she wasn't in on the plan, Darcy had assured Steve that Jane - who was also pregnant and wouldn't be drinking - would help contain the pups once everybody started dropping like flies. Darcy and Peter would wait until the alphas started passing out, and then they too would drink the wine for real, to avoid any suspicion that they’d been involved.

It wouldn’t be easy. There would be a lot of terrain for Steve to cross in bare feet, miles to go before he reached the beginnings of civilization. He’d need to move quickly if he wanted to get down the mountain and to the nearest town before the wolves started to stir again. It was a risky plan, but it was the only plan he had.

It was a good plan, he kept trying to reassure himself. There was no way it could go wrong. It would work. It would work. It would.

Fuck, he was nervous.

In the yurt where he was being prepared like a damn sacrificial lamb, Nakia noticed his mood, and seemed to interpret it as the normal nerves of a bride-to-be. “Don’t be afraid,” she encouraged him with a smile, as she worked the Wakandan paste into the soles of his feet and in-between his toes. “This is exciting! It will be fun.”

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed, her smile not quite reaching her eyes every time they flicked up to Steve’s face. “Alpha Barnes is a good man. He’ll make an excellent mate.”

Steve nodded along nervously, aware that she had to pretend to be just as on-board with the run as everybody else was. Even though he knew that they had a plan brewing—literally brewing—to help him escape, he still couldn’t calm himself down from his jitters very well. He’d avoided thinking about the run as much as possible ever since he’d first learned about what would happen: chased naked through the woods, with a purely ceremonial head-start, then tackled by a humongous werewolf, who would fuck him and bite him (hopefully having shifted back to human somewhere in the interim, but Steve hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask anybody about that little detail).

“It’s a big deal when a pack Alpha finds his mate,” Darcy said, where she was sitting beside Steve and rubbing the paste into his palm. “The Lupului of the Haită getting married doesn’t happen often. Once or twice in a generation. Last time was when I was just a pup, when Alpha Batroc came over with his pack from France.”

“Batroc?” Steve frowned. “You mean that asshole who’s always challenging Bucky’s leadership?”

“No, the asshole’s father.” Darcy rolled her eyes and moved around to do his other hand. “Apparently in some European packs, the title of Alpha is passed down hereditarily.”

“But not here,” Steve muttered, because he remembered what little Bucky had told him about being Alpha of this pack. How power was earned; borne of competence, brutality, and natural dominance. “Hard won and hard kept,” he recited, recalling what Bucky had said.

“Yeah.” Darcy met his eyes while Nakia was busying herself down at his feet. “Things weren’t always so nice for us, before Barnes. He challenged for pack Alpha when Batroc Senior died. There were fights, but he won.”

Steve nodded and tried not to worry about what would happen to the pack once they all woke up from being drugged and realized Bucky had lost his omega. Steve hoped it wouldn’t cause conflict, but from what little he knew of wolf nature and pack structure, it very well might. “He’s a good Alpha for you guys?” he asked quietly.

On his hand, Darcy gave a comforting squeeze, and Steve looked up at her. “Yeah,” she said. “But we’ll be fine.”

Steve hoped so.

“Now you must sit until it dries,” Nakia proclaimed, indicating the purple paste as she finished with Steve’s feet and set his heels down onto the floor. Steve glanced worriedly out the tiny windows of the yurt, where he could see that the daylight had fully waned and evening had drawn in. “H-how long will that take?”

“Oh not long. Ten minutes, maybe.” Nakia nodded brightly as she stood and went to the kitchen to wash her hands. “This will help you,” she said. “It will disguise your scent and give you strength.”

“Sure, sure.” Steve wanted to ask if the purple color of it came from wolfsbane, but figured it was probably a bad idea to say anything about wolfsbane at the moment. “What … what makes the color?” he asked instead.

Nakia’s smile turned sly. “Special Wakandan herb,” she said, and would say no more.

Just a plant, then, Steve thought. Just an old superstition from Africa. He thanked her anyway, since it was the polite thing to do. Nakia had spread the paste in lines across his cheeks and down his neck as well, taking extra care to rub it into his bonding glands. Steve hated to think what the people in the nearest town would think of him when they got a look at him running down the street in nothing but the strange markings and his birthday suit. Hopefully someone would recognize that he needed help, and he wouldn’t just be straight up arrested for public indecency or hauled off to the nearest loony bin.

“Good luck, Steve!” Nakia bid him goodbye, Darcy trailing out after her somewhat reluctantly.

“It’ll be okay,” she said back to him at the door.

“Wait!” Steve pleaded at the last second. “What am I supposed to do?”

Darcy just gave him a sympathetic wince and left the yurt without another word, and Steve sat there wondering how the heck he was supposed to know when to go out there.

A few minutes passed, and he started to angst that he’d missed some cue, and that this might mess up the timing of the Harvest wine. Wanda had warned that the wolfsbane would only work for an hour or two, at most. With the distance he had to travel out of the mountains, Steve wouldn’t have any time to waste. He looked down at his purple hands and feet, feeling lame and worried. Then the door opened and Steve blinked at the man who walked in. “... Doctor Banner?”

“Steve, Hi.” Banner came in and walked over to where Steve was sitting, hands in his pockets. He looked somewhat sheepish to be there. "I've seen you around but we've never been introduced. I’m Bruce.”

"I'm ... drying." Steve shifted awkwardly in place and indicated his purple hands and feet. “Not supposed to move for ten minutes."

Banner smiled and sank down into the beanbag across from Steve's. “They sent me in to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“It’s traditional. Before the mating run.”

Steve fought not to blush at the term. To him, "mating run" sounded like it might as well be called "naked werewolf sex chase"—because that's what it was. It was still weird to hear people talk about it so openly, and Steve shifted in discomfort. “Um, no offense or anything, but why’d they send you? You’re not omega.”

Banner’s mouth twitched. “No. No I’m not. But it’s usually someone who can impart a bit of wisdom relevant to your situation.”

“Oh.” Steve waited, unsure what the heck Doctor Banner had to impart. “Um, so …?”

“I wasn’t born into the pack, either.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he leant forward slightly. “I didn’t know that. You weren’t born a werewolf?”

“Mm mn.”

“What happened?”

Banner looked down with a small, self-deprecating smile. “I’m a doctor. One night a patient came into the E.R. in pretty bad shape. I was a mandatory reporter back then, so when his bloodwork came back saying he was infected. I had to alert the authorities.”

“You turned him in?”

He nodded regretfully. “I did. The patient heard about it, and the next blood draw I did, he grabbed the needle. Stuck me. Told me ‘welcome to his world’.”

Steve’s lips parted in shock. “On purpose?!”

“Well yeah. I’d ruined his life. He wanted to ruin mine.”

Steve had heard of cases of healthcare workers being infected on the job, but it was always discussed with an air of tragedy about it—like the AIDS crisis had been, back in the eighties. Banner was sitting there talking about it like it was no big deal, and Steve couldn’t decide whether an “I’m sorry” would be appropriate or offensive, at the moment. He licked his lips and instead asked, “Well, what happened then?”

Banner shrugged. “Lost my job. You can’t practice medicine if you’re infected with lycanthropy. Can’t do a lot of things, as it turns out.”

“No, that’s not true.” Steve shook his head. “There are … anti-discrimination laws. It’s illegal to fire or not hire someone based on infection status.” The quiet snicker he received for that told Steve he was being very naïve, and he squared his shoulders defensively. “Outside of medical jobs, I mean.”

“Yeah, there are laws.” Banner’s flat affect told him just how little that mattered in the real world, and Steve felt his face heat with indignity on the other man’s behalf. Banner continued, “I couldn’t find work, after. Being in the registry and all. Got a taste of my own medicine, so to speak. Karma. I felt so awful for all the years I’d ‘done my duty’ and reported infected patients to the health department. Got to see what the world was really like for people living with lycanthropy.” He shrugged. “That was when I started trying to find others.”

“Oh.” Steve had never once considered what he’d do if he ever contracted it. It’d always seemed like such a far away problem, something that could never touch him. Something for other people to deal with. Embarrassed over his own ignorance, he looked down at his hands. “I guess … I just always thought everybody was born into a pack, for the most part.” Werewolf communities were some of the most disorganized and dysfunctional in the country. Noone liked them because they were trouble: poor, crime-ridden, drug-addicted, violent. Steve had never stopped to wonder why that might be. “You don’t hear of hospital infections much anymore,” he mumbled.

Banner nodded. “Yeah. With safety precautions these days it’s rare. And when it happens, you’re kind of screwed. The packs’ve been marginalized for so long that they’re very insular now. Protective. Most of them won’t just take in strays. There’re too many traditions, rules, suspicions. But then I found this pack, and because of Barnes, they’re different. A lot of physicians won’t treat were patients, you know? Infected or congenital. So the pack needed a doctor. Barnes accepted me in. Gave me home, a family, purpose.” He looked at Steve meaningfully from over the rims of his glasses. “I owe them everything.”

Steve’s heart sank. “You’re trying to tell me I should be glad to be here. Is that it? That I shouldn’t be afraid of getting infected?”

“No.”

He crossed his arms, remembering the purple paste only belatedly and looking down at himself. Luckily, the paste seemed to have dried and hadn’t smeared on the robe. He looked back up at Banner with narrowed eyes. “Well I’m not here by choice. They kidnapped me. I’ve been trying to run away, and they keep dragging me back. So I don’t know what Bucky told you to come in here and say to try and butter me up, but don’t bother.”

Banner’s face pinched sadly. “He didn’t tell me what to say. He thought you might have questions. About what it’s like, what’s gonna happen. He asked me to come talk to you.”

Steve scoffed, unwilling to believe that. Bucky wasn’t trying to be nice, he was trying to be manipulative. He thought sending in a former human outsider to sing his praises would change things, would somehow make Steve happy or ease his fears. Well Steve had news for him: it didn’t. He wished so badly that Bucky was there himself. He’d rip the alpha a new one if he was—

“So do you?”

Steve looked up. Banner was watching him expectantly. “Do I what?”

“Have any questions?”

“Of course I do!” he snapped, frustrated. When the other man just sat there looking regretful and kind, Steve felt bad for having raised his voice. He pursed his lips and looked down. “I dunno,” he said. “I guess I’m still hoping to get away. I guess you think that’s pretty stupid.”

“Naw,” Banner assured. “I went on a cleanse after I got infected—some made up junk I found on the internet. I knew it wouldn’t work, but I spent a thousand bucks to have some purge juice mailed to my house anyway.” Steve shot him a ‘really?’ look, and Banner nodded with a wince. “Yeah. Trust me, nothing sounds stupid when you’re desperate. I'd know.” He inhaled deeply and pushed the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. “But, I guess if you don’t have any questions …” He started to get up, standing from the bean bag chair and heading for the door. “It was nice to officially meet you, Steve.”

“Wait!” Steve blurted, fearful of being left in the dark on something he’d long wondered. “... What’s it like?”

Banner turned back and blinked at him. “Which part?”

Steve swallowed thickly before he worked up the nerve to ask, “The first time. The … shifting. What’s it like? Does it ... ya know, hurt?”

Banner looked like he’d expected the question. “Well, it is painful, but probably not like you’re imagining.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s intense. Overwhelming. Really weird. But it hurts in a way that almost feels good. Satisfying.”

Steve scowled. “That makes no sense.”

Banner shrugged apologetically. “It's its own thing. There's nothing like it. No that I've experienced. The only thing I can compare it to is ... maybe a bit like having a knot or a kink worked out? You know: like a good massage; stretching sore muscles, or popping your knuckles; that prickling feeling you get when you come in out of the cold and your skin starts to warm up. It’s a relief feeling. Does that make sense?”

Steve sighed. “Not really. Kinda. I dunno.”

“Hey.” From the doorway, Bruce sent him a fortifying look. “You’ll be okay, kid. It’s really just a day or two of fever, and then you feel right as rain until the moon comes. That’s when you’ll shift with the whole pack.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmured, thinking about the particular shade of the purple-blue flower petals that'd probably already been strained out of the giant vat of wine by now. “... shift with the whole pack.”

He’d certainly do something with the whole pack, if this plan didn’t pan out. Like get ripped apart by them.

Bruce seemed to take his silent worry for concern over becoming a werewolf, so he added, “And you feel stronger and swifter after, even in your human form. You can smell better, all your senses are enhanced and you feel more in tune with yourself. Especially during and right after a shift. It’s exhilarating.”

Steve nodded, avoiding meeting the other man’s eyes out of the guilt he felt. Soon the entire pack would be drugged up and knocked out because of him—even Banner would be. “Thanks,” he said morosely. “For telling me, I guess.”

“Of course. I’ll tell them you’re ready. Someone will come and get you.”

“Great."

The door to the yurt closed behind Banner, and Steve was left alone again, sitting in silence except for the near-distant sounds of two hundred people kicking off a bonfire party.

He turned his hands over in his lap and stared down at his purple palms. “Great,” he repeated, this time in little more than a whisper. He wasn’t ready for this at all. He was scared, and anxious, and guilty, and not at all sure that he was doing the right thing.

Darcy had explained that everyone would recover, but it certainly wasn’t healthy for them to be ingesting wolfsbane. Steve was low grade poisoning an entire village of people just so that he could get away from Bucky. It made him feel crummy, made him think of the pale rings of scar tissue all the alphas had from the silver collars poisoning their skin, back at the prison. Steve cringed when he thought of how mad Bucky was going to be, once he realized what Steve had done. Darcy had said people might throw up once they regained consciousness, and Steve hated to think of hurting everybody like that. He felt no better than the prison guards, using the wolves' weaknesses against them.

But it was too late to back out now. The plan was already in motion. Outside, people were probably already being served the laced wine in red solo cups (or whatever kinds of cups hillbilly werewolves drank their booze from). And Wanda and Peter had stuck their necks out for Steve, in helping. All he could do now was soldier on with the plan.

Soon he’d be free of this place, and all the wolves would be right as rain, having recovered from the sneaky poisoning of their harvest wine. They'd go back to their lives as usual, minus one pesky human, and so would Steve. And it would be fine.

It would be fine.

Masterlist

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oneweirdbookaddict · 8 months

Text

Sky gets a concussion, Wild helps him out. And Time's there, too.

704 words

No warnings, let me know if anyone wants that changed!

Same for tags.

~~~~

His day was going pretty well until he took a bat to the head.

It’d been a lazy morning. The crisp fall air was brisk, making them hide under the protection of their blankets for longer. And Time had let them.

But eventually, they roused themselves and got to walking down the trail they’d been following for days now.

Twi had been tracking a group of monsters, hoping to find the shadow with them.

And boy, had they found them.

Easily outnumbered, the advantage of surprise hadn’t lasted long. The battle quickly took a turn for the worse, but they’d kept going.

Between the chaos of his fellow heroes fighting, he can hear someone swear.

“Wars!” Someone shouts.

“On it!” The captain calls back, and he takes a valuable moment to glance away from his own fight.

Someone’s down- he can’t tell who- someone else standing over them, on defense.

He goes back to his own fight.

Dodges a blow, parry, step forward, gain the advantage, loses it when another monster comes after him, steps back, slashes, attacks, blocks-

“Sky!”

And something slams into his head, sending him sprawling to the ground, vision blacking out.

When he has any sense of what’s going on again, Wild’s kneeling next to him, grabbing him and pulling him to the side.

The movement makes him groan, but he staggers to his feet and Wild quickly moves to support him. Especially when he nearly falls right back over, knees weakening.

“Yeah, you’re done, take it easy, yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?”

He squints blearily at Wild’s hand. “Erm- seven.” He says the first number that pops into his head.

Staggers, the world swaying around him.

Wild’s arms grab him, and he mindlessly processes the feeling of sinking back to the ground.

“One hell of a concussion…” Wild is muttering behind the ringing in his ears.

“Sky. Hey, Sky.”

He squints. Time’s in front of him.

How’d he get here?

“I followed you guys, they're doing ok out there. What do you need, a potion?”

Potion… do they have any? They were out the last he remembered…

“Yeah, we’ve got some, we stocked up in town yesterday, remember?”

Is he… talking out loud?

“Uh… yes, Sky. Drink this for me, it’ll fix you right up.”

Something is nudged into his hands. Slowly propped to his lips, he takes a few mouthfuls of the potion.

His head clears immediately, the ringing in his ears fading. The pounding he hadn’t even noticed was there easing to a dull ache.

“That feel better?” Time asks, and he nods slowly.

Closes his eyes, rubbing his head.

“Who else was hurt?” He groans, slumping back.

“No one, Hyrule took a tumble but he’s alright. You need anyone to stay here with you?”

“No, you guys… go back. I’ll be fine.”

Time hesitates, unsure about leaving him alone, but he forces a smile. “I’m alright, Time, I’ll finish this potion and be fine. You guys go back, they’ll need your help out there.”

The two nod, standing, leaving him alone.

He takes a breath, taking another drink of the potion.

Hears something behind him, standing and frowning.

Hand reaches for his sword- two things someone had called Bokoblins spot him.

“Oh, come on.” He mutters.

They rush at him.

He dodges one, then the other, blocks an attack, steps away from a hit-

His vision flashes. Pain spikes through his head.

He raises his sword just in time to block an attack going right for his stomach, head pounding. He’s overdoing it- he’s still concussed.

Ears ringing, blades clashing, one of the monsters gets a hit in, he stumbles back-

And he’s on the ground.

Dizzy, the world teetering around him.

“Time!” He shouts, shoving himself to his feet. He’s not able to fight right now, and definitely can’t run.

He stumbles away, grasping onto trees to keep himself upright. “Time! Wild!”

“Sky?!” Someone shouts back, and he nearly collapses in sheer relief.

Then something hits the back of his head, sending him right back to the ground, head pounding ears ringing world swaying.

“Sky!” He hears again, but he’s too far gone.

~~~~

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #how many fingers am I holding up #swooning #concussion #linked universe #fanfic #fainting tw #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fanfiction #lu fic #lu sky #sky lu #linked universe sky #wild lu #lu wild

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Fool Me Twice

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Part 10 of 28 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 10 Prompt - Second Chances

Summary: You are a tour guide, and he's a gift shoppist. Steven Grant stood you up on your first date. Now it's Valentine's Day, and he has come back after being gone for three days. You may find it within yourself to forgive him, but what happens when you discover the reason he stood you up in the first place?

Tags/Warnings: SFW, violence, canon divergence, second chances, mentions of Marc but no Marc appearance, Steven's a little pathetic (ofc), cute, fluffy, this is my first time writing moon knight canon stuff so please be gentle

Word Count: 3.5k

“Does anyone have any questions?” You asked, looking around at the kids in front of you. You wished you hadn’t noticed the one picking his nose and immediately felt your stomach turn.

It was a hit or miss whether or not kids would ask questions. This crowd seemed like they would rather be anywhere else than there at that moment, but when you started directing them to the gift shop, they lost their minds and started running for the door. Everyone loved the gift shop. You sighed when you followed them inside, looking to your left and seeing that Steven, the guy who worked the register, was ringing up a customer.

He hadn’t been to work since asking you out a few days ago. You remembered it clearly.

He was sitting in the employee room eating what looked like a vegan burrito. You were having your lunch at the table across from him. The two of you were chatting about common inconsistencies in the marketing department and how he tried to tell Donna they’d messed up the posters for the event the museum was having later that week.

“I’ve tried telling her that you should at least get to cover tours when other people are sick or something. Like per diem. You know so much.” You’d said, taking a bite of your food. “I mean, you know more than I do about some things.”

“Yeah well, she doesn’t seem to like the thought. Can’t even get my name right, ‘course she can’t get a poster right.” The two of you chuckled.

“You’re funny.” You said, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Erm, thank you.” He blushed, “I…I’m sure you know about that new restaurant on High street?”

“Yeah, the vegan place?” You took a swig of your water bottle.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I’ve been meanin’ to check it out.” He was shifting uncomfortably. You had a feeling you knew where this was going so you thought you’d help him get there.

“Oh I would love to go there, I just don’t like going places alone.” You looked at him in a way that you hoped urged him to invite you out.

“Yeah, I don’t either.” The awkward silence had you internally groaning.

One of the things you liked about Steven was how shy he could be. Not all the time, you’d seen him when he was intrigued about something, or when he’d stand up for himself to Donna. He wasn’t a pushover. When it came to something like dates though, and asking you out, he seemed to get anxious, like all the confidence fell from his body. You found it adorable.

“Steven…” You touched your fingertips to his on the table.

His lips parted slightly, “what?”

You smiled, “I said, I don’t like going places alone.”

You watched him suck in a breath and a smile played over his lips. He had such a nice smile, it was bright and had a way of making butterflies go crazy in your stomach. He wrapped his hand around your fingers and rubbed them with his thumb softly.

“Would you…” He was speaking slowly, as if doing so would allow him to retract the words if he got too nervous mid sentence, “would you like to come with me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Dinner was supposed to be three nights ago. Three nights ago you stood in front of your mirror adjusting your breasts in the tight black dress you’d picked out. You wore a complementary necklace and touched up your makeup quickly. You looked down at your phone.

Steven: I’m still surprised that you said yes. I’ll be there at 7 :)

You: I practically BEGGED you to ask me haha. See you in a bit.

Steven: :D

You’d never thought about Steven using emojis, but you found it endearing. It was 6:30pm when you left your house, and 6:55pm when you got to the restaurant. Steven wasn’t there yet, but you’d assumed he would be right along. You got a table and ordered a drink while you waited. Steven had been late to the gift shop a few times, but you were genuinely surprised when 7:10pm hit and he didn’t show. You’d thought he would be too excited to miss out on a date with you. You looked at your phone again.

You: Guess traffic must be giving you trouble?

You waited some more, sipping at your drink. By the time you were finished, and the server had come to your table asking if you were ready to order something for the third time, you checked your phone again…nothing, and it was 7:25pm.

You: I don’t want to sound rude, but are you standing me up?

You: It’s just almost been 30 minutes and I thought you were excited…

7:40

You: I never really thought you were the type, Steven. It’s too bad, truly.

You ordered a meal to-go. You hoped that by the time your box of food came out that he would’ve come through the door, but he never did. That night, you went home alone, toed off your shoes, crawled into bed, and cried for a bit before finally drifting off. Steven always seemed like such a nice guy, so when someone like him turned out to be a jerk, you wondered if there was even any point in dating.

Now it was Tuesday, Valentine’s Day, and the man who stood you up was smiling away, friendly as always. You couldn’t understand how he could be so chipper after what he’d done. Didn’t he know that he’d see you at some point and he would have to answer for what he did? Didn’t he know that he’d have to face you again?

There it was, the stupid face that lit up every time he saw you. The face that melted your insides with hot molten lava every time you saw it. He looked so damn happy to see you, like he hadn’t skipped a beat. You gulped, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Hey…!” He said your name from across the gift shop.

You turned your head away and walked off, and Steven stood there, feeling a pit forming in his gut as his lips curled back downward. What had he done now? When he’d seen you yesterday at lunch, you’d touched his hand and practically asked him out yourself. It didn’t make sense, now you looked at him with so much disdain, he wondered if he should even approach you. Weren’t you still looking forward to that date with him tonight?

He waited until later to talk to you.

“Hey…” He said your name softly in the employee lounge later that day at lunch.

You let out a heavy sigh, “hey.”

You didn’t want to talk to him, but there he was, not letting you get out of it easily.

“You seem upset, was it Greg? That guy is always…” He stopped. He could tell by your expression that it was, in fact, not Greg that had you upset. “What is it?”

“You’re really going to come in here and act like nothing happened?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You know I expect this from some of the dead beat losers out there but I really thought you were better than them, Steven.” You got up from the table.

“Wha-what do you mean?” His face was distraught. “I haven’t even…we haven’t even been out yet. Aren’t we still on for the vegan place?”

Your jaw dropped, “yeah…we were on for the vegan place…three nights ago.”

Steven’s mind went blank and the panic set it. It happened again. He had lost track of time, and this time he’d missed out on a date with you. Marc must’ve taken over. He ran his hands through his hair. He and Marc had talked about this, he couldn’t just do that without warning, unless something big had happened, and he wasn’t telling Steven about it.

His palms started sweating while he was trying to think about what to say to get you to forgive him, but instead he felt his eyes welling. He couldn’t very well tell you so early on that he was an alter for a man with dissociative identity disorder who also happened to be the Moon Knight for the Egyptian God Khonshu. He couldn’t tell you that Marc Spector had taken over the body that they shared and in doing so Steven had lost track of days while Marc, no doubt, rescued someone, or several someones. Hell, Marc might’ve even saved the world. What was most troubling, was that he hadn’t said a word to Steven.

You saw this, his defeated expression, and realized that something was very wrong.

“You…you never showed up. I sat there until eight.” You explained with a softer tone now.

He wasn’t even looking at you. His hand was over his mouth and he was looking down at the ground.

“You’re sure it’s not still Saturday?” He asked.

“Yep, sat there for an hour, got a drink and had the black bean burrito to go.” You pressed your lips together.

Steven had to think about how he was going to make this up to you, right now. You were standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, and though your expression was softening, it was clear that you were still irritated. If Marc had messed this up for him, he was going to be upset.

“Can I take you out tonight? I know it’s a longshot, but…I really didn’t stand you up on purpose. I have a…sleepwalking problem.” He was desperate, brows turned up and knitted together pathetically.

He reminded you of a dog begging for treats, not a man asking for a second chance. You’d never heard of a sleepwalking problem that made someone lose days of their life, but you sensed he was being genuine. You groaned and rolled your eyes. You had a soft spot for him, and you figured that if he really did try to stand you up, he wouldn’t be asking for a second shot.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but…yeah, yeah sure.” You dropped your arms and grabbed your lanyard from the table before replacing it on your neck.

You watched Steven’s entire body sigh with relief, “oh thank goodness, I won’t make you regret it.”

You started to walk out of the employee lounge, “yeah, we’ll see.” You said.

Part of your agreeing to let him make it up to you was purely out of your own feelings toward the gift shop clerk. You’d always liked going to the gift shop at the end of the tours, mostly because you got to see the cute and quirky guy ringing up customers and passing glances at you from across the stuffed Taweret plushies. He always had this look on his face when he saw you walk in, as if he were standing dormant until you came into view. As soon as you were in his vicinity, he came to life, color went back to his cheeks, and his smile formed.

The truth was that he had fallen for you the second he first laid eyes on you. You were new there, just starting your first day as a tour guide, and he happened to be walking in while you were explaining the symbols on a stone tablet. He saw you as he was walking by on his way to the lockers, and he thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. Your confidence, your brilliant smile, everything about you took his breath away.

“Hi.” You said, noticing the awkward man standing there, staring at you.

He jumped, “oh, hi, sorry I was just erm…heading to the lockers.”

He scurried off, and you shook your head before returning to the tour. You thought he was a weirdo at first, but over time he went out of his way to converse with you more and more. It started with little compliments in the lounge. He’d say things like…

“You really know a lot. Sometimes I think the tour guides don’t really know anything, they just learn a script but you…you’re brilliant.”

And,

“Wow, today you really had those kids hangin’ on to your every word. You’re a brilliant storyteller.” He said.

Then he started doing other things like, if you mentioned liking the way his lunch looked, he would bring in a second helping the next time so you could try it. There was even one day where you didn’t show up for work because you had a cold and when you came in the next day you found a “get well soon” card in your locker along with a basket that had tea and other sick supplies to help you feel better. These things were the reason that you said yes to a second chance. These things are the reason that you were standing in front of your mirror again after work, in that little black dress you’d worn just a few nights ago.

This time, before you left, you sent him a text.

You: Are we still on?

His lack of response was worrying, but you went anyway. Once again, you arrived at 6:55pm, and once again, Steven wasn’t around. He has five more minutes, you reminded yourself, five more minutes.

You walked inside and got yourself a table and a drink. Your palms were sweating and you started to feel like an idiot when 7:05 rolled around. You let out a heavy sigh. You weren’t going to do this again. When the server came back you ordered another meal to go. Steven had one shot to get this right, and he blew it.

If only you could see him though, frantically running down the street as though his life depended on it, and to him it did. Losing you would cripple him, losing you would be one of the worst failures of his life, so he had to get there. He looked at his watch, 7:07pm. He cursed under his breath as he closed in on the restaurant. Surely you were fuming. Surely you were already gone, but you weren’t. You were sitting there, he could see you through the window in a beautiful dress that fit your body perfectly. He could also see your slumped figure, clearly upset by his absence. He wasted no more time rushing through the door to see you.

Steven’s hair was stuck to his forehead. He looked like he’d run the entire way there. He sat down and held a finger up to you, trying desperately to catch his breath. The server came back to the table.

“Can we maybe get a water please and some napkins?” You smiled. “Oh, and please put in my order for here, to go with his order when he gets himself sorted.”

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” He managed to choke out.

The server nodded in understanding and disappeared behind a set of double doors. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, waiting for him to catch his breath. It took him a minute, and when the server came back with napkins and water, Steven gulped down the entire glass and set it down on the table a little too harshly. He gasped and pointed to the glass.

“More…please.”

The server complied and then stepped away quickly. The restaurant was a little busy for Valentine’s Day, so you were sure he had other things to do instead of sitting there filling Steven’s glass endlessly. You laced your fingers together and rested your arms on the table. Finally, Steven was able to talk to you.

“I am so sorry, I was trying to leave and I had…I had an episode and…and…” He shook his head, eyes landing on the glass of the window.

You saw him make a face at the window, the same face a mother would make when trying to tell her child to shush without making a scene.

“Steven.” You said coldly. His head snapped to face you. “What is going on? I know I’ve only known you for a couple of months but…that’s long enough to know that you haven’t been acting yourself lately.”

“I’m not even so sure I know, love.” He said, looking pathetically at the flower in his hand. He’d squeezed the life out of it and it held no petals. “Got this for you, but I guess that’s a mess now too, innit?”

You were, truth be told, just glad he’d actually shown up. You thought for sure you were going to be spending Valentine’s Day alone when the clock rolled by and he hadn’t arrived, but then he ran through the door. Whatever his reason for being late, you were willing to forgive it, even if you shouldn’t. If he was any other guy, you would’ve told him to hit the road, but it was Steven, and he was different.

When you reached out your hand and touched Steven’s fingers, he could’ve fallen into tears. Not only did a woman like you say yes to a date with him, but you’d agreed to a second date after he bailed on the first one, and you were still there when he was late to said second date. He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve you at all, but he was grateful for you to the moon and back.

“The least you can do is tell me why you were late, yeah?” You asked, sipping your drink.

“Darling, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He said.

“Try me.” You leaned back in your seat.

The truth was that Steven was secretly grateful for the well timed attack that took place right by the restaurant the two of you were sat in. He was racking his brain trying to figure out ways to tell you that he was the Moon Knight. How could he tell you that there were two others in his head, and that was why he’d been missing for three days? How could he tell you that there was a colossal and skeletal bird that gave him his power? The only way would be to show you.

A woman outside screamed and you jumped, looking through the window. It was dark, but you could see her running by the light of the streetlamps. You couldn’t see what she was running from though, and wondered if she might be insane.

“Stay here.” Steven said, jumping out of his seat.

“Steven, what are you-”

“Stay inside.” He ordered.

Steven being demanding was out of character for him. You’d never heard him talk quite like that to anyone, and especially not you. He held out his arms and you watched in awe as his entire outfit changed before your very eyes. The new fit was sharp, stark white, and actually looked quite remarkable on his body. His beautiful face was hidden with a mask now, and his eyes were glowing like the stars.

“Steven?” You asked, looking at him in complete shock.

“That’s me, love. I’ve gotta go save the town now, but you just stay in here, yeah?”

He left without waiting for your response, and you were just standing there, completely dumbfounded. He had told you to stay put, but of course after he left you had to follow, at least to the curb. You saw him, fighting what looked like an extraordinarily strong man. This was it. This explained everything. Why he always looked like he hadn’t slept in days, why he went missing sometimes, and why he stood you up on Friday night. He was a superhero, like the Avengers. You’d been fortunate to never see any of these types of things in person, yet here you were, witnessing it first hand.

“That’s the girl!” You heard someone yell behind you.

You turned, seeing two men walking toward you quickly. You thought for sure they couldn’t be coming after you, but they were. Damn the heels you’d decided to wear. If not for the clumsy shoes that made you look a little taller and dressier, you might’ve been able to fight, or get away. Instead you stumbled, falling to your hands and knees with a gasp.

One of them grabbed one arm, and the other grabbed your shoulder.

“No! Get off of me!” You yelled, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. “S-Steven!” You screamed.

The last thing you saw was Steven turning to face you, and then it all went dark.

To be continued… (not sure when tho, but it will be continued after Feb is over)

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TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @ninebluehearts

#Steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fic #steven grant headcanon #steven grant fiction #steven #grant #fanfiction #moon #knight #moon knight fic

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