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hrbertwest · 9 months ago

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Soldier Down (Harvey x Reader)

Synopsis: After the heart wrenching experience of rejection from the last flower dance, you decided to skip it on year 2 making your newfound friends worried

a/n: the idea is all over the place... maybe. i just wanted to write something for my husband of two years, which was Harvey the town doctor. sorry, i got is so bad for him 😭

tw/cw: badly edited... it's 3AM, i wrote it after some idea boost, fluff, mild angst, happy ending

divider: @/cafekitsune

“What do you mean you're not going to participate in this year's flower dance?” Emily almost flipped the sewing machine over when out of the blue you confessed your desire to not join the spring flower dance, an event in which everyone was looking forward to participating, except George who hates the look and smell of the flowers.

Meanwhile, beyond Emily’s shoulder, you watched as Haley, who was in the kitchen, minding her own business, turned her head slowly, frown plastered on her forehead, as she stared at you. Are you for real?, was written all over her pretty face. Haley loves the flower dance. In fact, you know she makes an effort to look the prettiest on that special day. The look of disbelief is so strong, that you found yourself clenching the glass of orange juice you're holding, trying to look small behind it. Wishing that it can hide you from the shame that's slowly creeping in.

Gulping the sweet and sour orange liquid in one go, you prayed that even without alcohol, the citrus would give you courage not to stutter and look like an idiot trying to explain your plan to skip an important event in the valley after experiencing a silly little rejection. Everyone gets rejected here and there. There is no way one rejection left you that traumatized……right?

“Well…..Uhmmm…. I just don't want to. I- I don't feel like joining.” Great. What a plan. And you practiced the reason in front of the mirror way too many times before finally having courage to share this big decision.

Palm sweaty, you tried clenching the evidence of fear on your denim pants, rubbing and squeezing, in hopes that it will help dry your hands. But, it did nothing to calm your nerves, absentmindedly, your right leg started shaking. Head hot from a million thoughts running inside your mind, scared that Emily and Haley will judge you the moment they found out that even after a year, you still can't get over how Harvey declined your offer to dance with him. At that time, when he mentioned that he was working on his courage to ask someone out, it gave you false hope that he may be referring to you. It may sound like a stretch but you thought there was something blooming with your relationship with him. It seems that way….. or so you’ve thought.

In your first year, as an early riser, you always meet the doctor at his clinic. Most of the time, you just see him by his window, sitting in front of the reception, waiting for any of the townsfolk to ask for his assistance. Your interaction started off with shy glances, which turned into a curt nod of acknowledgement, a nod turned into small smiles, smiles became hesitant waves of your hand, and a wave evolved into a morning routine of exchanging pleasantries and coffee before you two start your long day at work and doing your respective responsibilities.

You were so happy, and you admit at that time, you're grateful that despite the doctor being a bit awkward and shy, you two clicked and are forming a bond, and you usually don't admit your feelings easily, but you know deep down that you're starting to like him. He was so sweet and caring afterall. How could you resist him?

So when the rejection came on the day of the event, when you asked him politely to be your partner, then he awkwardly looked away and kindly said no. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water was splashed on your face. Your body went rigid, a chill ran down your spine, until it turned into a scorching fire of shame. After a mess of mumbling apologies, wishing that a hole would open up and swallow you down, you half walk and run as you left the forest and did not watch the whole event unfold. You were so glad that at that time, your tanned skin, after days of being under the sun farming, had hidden your embarrassment well from their naked eyes.

You involuntary flinched, when a firm hand held your shaking leg and effectively stopped the movement. Blurry eyes start focusing on Emily’s face, her eyes reflecting your ashen appearance, pity and worry were mixed on her gaze, and you admit that you feel small and vulnerable in front of her……and Haley, who held your shoulder and squeezed it to give you comfort. You did not notice her coming close at all. It says a lot on how you must have looked in their eyes. They must have been worried sick.

“Sorry. We don't want you to remember anything awful that may have happened that day. But maybe the doctor has his own reasons when he rejected you. It was your first month after all. Doctor Harvey is known to be very awkward and shy. Maybe he was just shy???” Your blue haired friend shrugged as she tried her best to reason out and make you feel better. A scoff was heard from Haley as she disapproves of what Emily said, or so you thought.

“I can't believe I am defending a man but my sister is right. Doctor Harvey is far too much of a softie to purposely play with your heart and reject you after giving you motives.” She tuts. “I bet he was feeling a bit overwhelmed that someone asked him for a dance. You know…. Choosing to dance with him, while the other younger bachelors were around.” She continued as a matter of fact.

You watched as Emily glared at Haley’s sharp tongue and the blonde just shook her shoulders with no care. Chuckling nervously, you twiddle with your thumbs as you process what they’ve said. It is easier said than done. You have been in this headspace for a year, that despite their words being reasonable, you just can't believe it to be true. Doctor Harvey probably has his eyes set on someone smarter. You are quite bright but not as smart as Maru.

“I- I don't know.” Unsure, you look at them, lip on a thin line. Now that you're on the hotseat and being grilled about it, you hope to steer away from the conversation. It's just childish to you, even though the sisters never called you anything similar to that. You felt childish. You were grateful when your phone alarm went off, screaming and screeching, signaling that the gold bars you processed are ready for harvest. After that, you have to go to Jodi and give it to her to finish her request and get some gold coins, which you have to use to save up for summer crops. Still far away per say but better saved up than use your dwindling savings again if something disastrous happens. Just like the last time where your crops suddenly died despite being taken care of.

Also, you just don't want to bawled your eyes out. Knowing Emily and Haley, they will try their best to cheer you up. You know you can't stay here with them trying to boost your confidence without crying. And you don't want to cry. It's too cliché. So with an obvious rush on your steps, you almost jump out of their door and run towards the nearest way to your home, which was near Marnie’s barn.

“Do you really think the doctor is not playing with her heart?” Emily sighed as she watched the door, you almost closed way too loudly, as you obviously rushed towards it, with an intent to run away from the conversation you started. She would lie if she says she’s not worried. Despite the farmer being known to be strong-willed, both physical and mentally, she's also an empath and a softie. You feel things way too strongly. This is why Emily likes you a lot. She can be vulnerable towards you because she knows you’ll understand better than anyone in Pelican Town. And with that, she hopes that only good things come your way.

“Remember the story Abigail told you on your shift? After the accident with the farmer fainting inside the mines, Abigail rushed her to his clinic, barely alive, and he was waiting and ready. Remember that before that, he would often be seen to have his lights on at night, way past his usual bedtime, especially, on days wherein he knew that the farmer was inside the mines. If that isn't love, I don't know what that is?” Haley sighed as she flopped herself on the nearby couch.

“He is the only town doctor, Haley. That's to be expected.” She doesn't want to be the party pooper but that needs to be addressed as well.

“Emily…..usually, it would be you defending someone. But weirdly enough, I am doing it this time. So okay, let's make it our mission to help the doctor and the farmer to choose each other in this year’s flower dance. Doctor Harvey is a man of routine, however, when the farmer is included in the equation, he would go out of his way to accommodate her. I just have a good feeling about this. I bet they'll get married this year.” Haley shrugged before she pulled out her phone texting for reinforcements.

“Luckily, this Thursday is my annual check-up.”

“Remind me again why you two are at my farm?” You blinked as you watched Sebastian and Sam sit at your porch after they showed up earlier while you’re tending to your livestocks.

“How many times do we have to say that we came here to practice? You’re not sensitive to loud sounds. Your farm is huge. We can all jam here together.” He explained.

See…that's the thing. Sebastian, you would understand he’ll come here. He loves the quiet of the farm and would often help you out as a thank you for letting him stay and relax, here and there. But Sam? Sam hates the smell of animal manure. He also hates ducks because as per his story, he was chased down by them when he was a kid. Something is not right but you can't quite pinpoint where it was coming from.

Your suspicion may be written all over your face because Seb shrugged and sighed at his best friend's awful excuse.

“Sam just wants to see Helios.” Seb spoke.

As if on cue, upon hearing his name, a loud bark was heard from afar, and you heard his paws hitting the soft soil before you saw a brown dog, wearing a red collar, rushing towards where you three were standing. Like a giddy kid, Sam's eyes widened and he excitedly kneel and open his arms, waiting for Helios to go towards him. Helios, the smartest pup, went towards Sam without hesitation, knowing he’ll get good treats and pets from him.

You don't want to spoil Sam’s delusion that he was your pup’s favorite, but you and Helios know that it was Harvey he liked the most. Even your old rescue, Helga, the big orange grumpy cat, purrs at the doctor when he visits the farm. Helga isn't nice just to anyone. Even Seb took a long time before Helga finally purred at him. Yet, Harvey was loved at first sight. It was obvious that it was because he is very gentle towards them. You also witnessed a time where he was talking to them. Retelling stories of his childhood where his parents hated pets because they are dirty and a source of diseases. Their obsession and hatred towards the baby animals made Harvey anxious and avoided adopting any pet, not because he thinks they were a handful, but he feels conscience, that he wasn't able to do anything to save the cats and dogs his parents threw away after trespassing in their property.

You bite your lip when you realize that you're thinking about him again. The pang in your chest grows more painful as the day passes by, and the spring flower dance is getting closer, and no action was taken on your end. You want to dance with him. You want your intention towards him to be clear. However, the fear and doubt takes over and you crumple like a coward.

“Hey, you should ask the doctor about this upcoming flower dance.” Out of nowhere, Seb suggested. And there was something that clicked in your head.

So that….was the reason why they are here.

“Oh god no!” You grimaced and shook your head in refusal. Emily or Haley must have told him about what you’ve talked about last time.

“Emily told you?!” You asked, exasperated.

“She doesn't need to. It's a small town. Eventually, everyone will know.” He corrected your assumption and leaned towards the armrest of his seat. Your response was only a sigh, as you focused your attention on Sam and Helios, who was now playing fetch with a ball.

“Sam didn't know about this?” Putting your arm around your chest, you clarified.

“Nah. He does. He got distracted.” He shrugged. Internally, you heavily sighed.

“Then tell me how you found out?” You pry him some more.

“Should I tell you? I mean…it seems like you told Emily and Haley, and not me, your best friend. It kind of sucks.” He pouted.

You playfully slapped his shoulder at that and he only rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll spill!” He raised his hand in surrender.

“Haley texted me.” He admitted with a grin.

“You are the worst!” You slap him again, but this time, you made sure it will hurt.

“I’m sorry! Hey! I said I’m sorry! Hahahaha!” Sebastian used his arms to shield himself from your attacks, and he had the audacity to laugh out loud from your hits.

When his laughter annoyed you more, shame and frustration mixed together, you made sure that some of the playful punches actually hit him quite hard. He yelped when he finally felt that you meant it, and used his strength to stop you from your continuous onslaught of him. He grabbed your hands and chuckled at your pouting lips and frowning brows.

There was a pause and you watched as something flashed in his eyes before he smiled.

“Don’t be scared. There is nothing wrong inviting and asking him again. The fifty percent chance of him saying no, is still a fifty percent chance of him saying yes. I mean….if he ever said no” He paused, his face morphed thoughtfully.

“I can always dance with you to the flower dance.” He continued.

You felt warmth from that, and you cannot help but smile.

Sebastian was like a brother to you. It was weird. But the moment you two met each other, there was this bond, that was akin to being siblings that was created.

He always looked out for you, and you always looked out for him. Robin being fond of you was probably one of the main reasons why your sibling-like relationship with him strengthened.

He is like a baby brother that you never had. However, you know that Sebastian always thinks he is the eldest brother which was a lie because you are two years older than him.

Seb’s sincere smile suddenly changed into a cheshire one, and you kind of got a hint that he will make fun of you.

But before you two could banter, a loud, intentional coughing was heard behind you and you froze when the source spoke.

“I- Hi! Sorry for interrupting.” He started with a stutter.

You suddenly realized the position you were at. Sebastian holding both of your hands, your faces inched closer from arguing. Embarrassed, you pulled your hand away from his hold, and like the speed of the lightning, moved farther from Seb, clenching both of your fists. Your face and ears, hot to the tips.

“Hey, doc! What are you up to?” Sebastian casually asked. And you gave him a deadly glare. He only smirked at your reaction.

You panicked as you watched Harvey look in between the both of you, and was about to open your mouth to explain, when the doctor smiled, although forcefully, as he continued.

“Well…uhnnnnm..I replenished the tonics I have at the clinic. I was wondering if you would like to buy some?” He asked, but he was looking down while offering.

“Didn't know you’re selling house to house now, Doctor Harvey?” Seb teased.

Your eyes widened at that, and you mouthed a threat at him, in which Sebastian only replied with a shrug.

“I-I usually don't. But the farmer was always in the mines so..I thought…uhm…I” Harvey’s face turned into a tomato, and his eyes were wide, as he stammered, and tried to explain why he was at your farm. He was caught off guard from the younger man’s question. He felt awfully shameful, the red was even creeping up to his neck.

“Harvey, it's okay. Seb was just teasing you.” You tried to deescalate the situation, and you stepped down from your porch, to come closer to the reddened Harvey.

Deep inside you are panicking for him. His red face, and embarrassed stammer, makes your heart beat faster, infected by his shame. You feel like your heart will jump out of your ribs.

Out of nowhere, Sam suddenly came into view, and tapped the doctor on his shoulder to say Hi.

As if the action woke him up, Harvey flinched, and he suddenly bid his farewell but with reminding you to come to his clinic if you ever needed a tonic when you mine and combat monsters.

You watched his back, as he rode his bicycle away from your farm, watching him slowly going away left a pang on your chest.

When he was out of view, your attention however, was now back to the culprit. With no person to stop you, you removed one of your slippers and threw it at Sebastian, who crouched down to hide, but was still hit straight to his head. He yelped in pain, but soon you heard his laughter.

Sam was oblivious and frowning, when Sebastian’s laugh boomed and he tried his best to apologize and breathe at the same time.

You cannot sleep.

Yoda, forgive you for picturing Harvey’s downcast face when he saw you with Sebastian.

It was an image you do not wish to see. But every time you close your eyes, you see it oh so perfectly.

You don't wish to see Harvey sad or misinterpreting your relationship with Sebastian.

Yet, you have no strength to stand and go to him to explain or clarify.

Because….what if you're just assuming things? What if he wasn't really sad but just surprised? What if? Yoda! Too many what ifs!

You ruffled your hair from frustration, and you kind of forgot that Helga was sleeping beside your head. You profusely apologize when the old cat hissed at you, before jumping down, and comfortably sitting on the jacket Harvey lent for you to use. It was raining, and you were soaking when you visited him at his clinic.

At that time, you insisted that you are okay. That the rain will make your farmer body stronger. But he only pouted at that reasoning, and you cannot help but accept his offer anyways, because he looks so cute when he cares. Technically, he looks so cute in everything he does.

Those memories are precious to you. And you have this feeling that if you let this go, it will be the end of your relationship with him.

You have to make it up to Harvey. Whether he likes you or not. You cannot live knowing he misunderstood. Out of all the people in Pelican Town, you don't want to be perceived wrongfully by Harvey.

After yelling on your pillow, for courage, you stood up, wore your scarf, and started walking towards the clinic. With renewed vigor, you did not think things through, and you found yourself just standing in front of his door. Not knowing what to do.

Thoughts were on a haywire, you were breathing heavily, trying to force yourself, remind your head, why you were here in front of his door at 12 AM.

The courage that gave you strength earlier, slowly diminishes, and you realize how cold it was. Your teeth were chattering and you were shaking involuntarily from the bone chilling wind. You hugged the scarf tighter hoping it gives you enough warmth ... .as you walk back to the farm again. Feeling cowardly when it hit you how stupid you must have looked walking on an unmarried man’s house way past midnight.

You looked one last time at his mahogany door, deciding that whatever good idea you had was probably bad, as you stepped back, retrieved your hand, that was ready to knock, finally ready to just go back home and forget this…

When his door opened, revealing a disbehelved Harvey, glasses crook, hair was everywhere, white shirt soaked from sweat and breathing heavily from probably running from upstairs to downstairs just to meet you.

You were about to open your mouth, was about to ask him how did he know that you were in front of his door, when he explained himself after he was able to breathe.

“Your glow rings. It was only you who wore glow rings in Pelican Town.” Your cheeks heated at that and you involuntarily looked down on your fingers and in there, you were indeed wearing one of your glow rings you use for the mines. It was an automatic response. Wearing your glow rings at night, to see the dimmed pathways better.

“Oh Yoda! I’m so sorry for waking you up!” You panicked, and apologized profusely when you understood that you interrupted someone’s sleep again due to your glow rings. You remembered how the Mayor scolded you to make sure to remove or darken your ring once you walked past the town, on your way home to the farm.

“You didn't wake me!” He countered. “I cannot sleep.” He admitted face was red.

“Oh.”

Was your only response before there was a pregnant pause that swallowed the whole conversation to a full stop. You bite your lip, thinking of many things to say to change the awkward silence. But truthfully, you don't know how. You watch him as he just stands there, cheeks red, hands on his neck, and shyly looking away. The crickets were loud, and you watched as the moths danced around the light post. Although the silence was loud…..it was weirdly comfortable.

“Would you like some tea?” He offered. Breaking the ice.

You nodded, not trusting to open your mouth, afraid to say anything that may sabotage whatever was starting.

You followed him up to his room upstairs, and he guided you to sit on his two person dining table. He apologized for how small his place was and you assured him it was okay, and it was you who was imposing.

While his back was turned on the kitchen preparing the tea, you looked around, and you cannot help but smile on seeing the familiar wallpaper of his room, and the posters of different planes plastered on his wall. You swore, it looks fuller now. It seems like the space for his planes are bigger than the ones for his medical profession. You chuckled at that.

“Care to share?” He playfully asked as he sat the steaming mug of chamomile tea in front of you, its aroma filling a sense of calm and familiarity, which you liked.

“You're building a new model plane again? Looks fun.” You nodded on the new wooden pieces on his work bench. He followed your eyes and smiled sheepishly at your attention and observation.

“Ah..yes. I was hoping to show it to you. Invite you over earlier when…” He paused and looked at you. When you felt his eyes on you, you stared back at him.

You felt like that was the perfect moment to say something.

“Sebastian is like a brother to me. Nothing more.” You explained, gripping the warm and comfortable tea cup, nervous of what he may tell you.

Maybe it was the warm cup, or the shift of energy in the air, that made you feel vulnerable and open as you blurted out a confession.

“Harvey…it was only you I like.”

At that moment, you have forgotten your dilemma that maybe he doesn't like you the same. At that time, you just felt that it was the right time to confess. You thought it was now or never.

You watched as his brown eyes widened, his mouth agape, he looked surprised, face blank from any emotions of rejection or happiness.

You were hopeful until you weren't. His none response jarring your confidence.

It took a couple of seconds before you felt the shame coming back, he was just staring at you, quiet, surprised, not saying a word.

You feel so bad, ashamed, that when he doesn't say anything, you started rapping, telling him he is not required to respond right away, that it wasn't your intention to drop a bomb to him late at night, that it was just you being silly, or probably just from the lack of sleep.

You were mouthing off a hundred and thousand of reasons and explanations, to get yourself out of the embarrassing moment, when you suddenly felt soft lips enveloping yours, warm calloused hands caging your face, moving in the direction in sync with his lips.

It was gentle and soft. Like a warm breeze in the field of flowers. Trees swaying, fallen leaves dancing, and air sweet as a honey.

You were never kissed like this before.

Most kisses you had were inexperienced, aggressive, and wild. This one…you liked it.

No, you love it.

You never thought that kisses could be felt like this. A warmth pooling in your stomach as you place your hand atop his, deepening the kiss, lost in the feeling.

There was only you and Harvey. And you think…. that wasn't such an awful idea to have. You feel lucky and blessed.

You slowly opened your eyes when Harvey let go of your lips, hands still in your face.

“Would you dance with me? This spring flower dance?” He asked. His whole demeanor changed. He felt much relaxed.

“I cannot think of anyone dancing with me that day.” You smiled, leaning closer to his hand. Happy that everything feels like it is in place.

The moment was beautiful and solemn, until a flash was directed on the window where you and Harvey were standing. Both of your heads snapped from its source and you cannot help but guffaw when your friends push against each other, as they fight off getting away first from being caught after they took a photo of you together.

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hrbertwest · 3 years ago

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Chocolate || Steven Grant X Reader

-> Rating: 18+

-> Word count: 6.1k!!!

-> After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.

Gif credit belongs to @paper-n-ashes !!!

TW/CW: long ass fic. Handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex. Relatively tame for me 👀 Not proof read, ain’t nobody got time for that.

His voice fades out as you gaze into his eyes, sparkling in excitement as he explains the mummification process to you for what must be the fifth time since you joined the museum staff a few months ago. They’re as deep and dark as the chocolate bonbons that had been pushed across the desk towards you. Melting, oozing a happiness that makes them appear even sweeter. The kind of sweet delight that made you buzz for hours on end and eventually fall into a sugar coma.

The crisp cold of the London air permeates through the stone walls of the museum's halls as if echoing Steven’s earlier sentiments that ‘even the summers in London are freezing’. It even seeps through the stitching of your cardigan as you sit in the storage room of the gift shop, helping your colleague sort through the miscellaneous gift-shop inventory, goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms as the draft floats under the heavy-set wooden doors.

However, you can’t feel the cold at all, the warmth that settles deep behind your sternum from hearing Steven talk excitedly about his interests is enough to combat the chill. It’s truly endearing, the way the exhausted man with such a mild temperament comes alive when he notices you listening to his ramblings- or rather tried.

“... and so Apep swallowed Ra’s boat, causin’ an eclipse!” He concludes with such vigor it jolts you from your trance and back to reality to find that you had been sitting with a small Anubis toy in hand for god knows how long, staring dorkily at the poor man who just wanted your attention. He doesn’t seem to notice, however, so enraptured by his storytelling that you manage to escape his scrutiny, or rather his disappointment that you hadn’t been as enthralled with his knowledge as he perhaps thought you were.

It wasn’t always this way. Upon your arrival to the museum at the beginning of spring during the new economic year, you loved his enthusiasm, the way he had toured you on his induction day despite the rambling of your boss Donna, insisting that he would never be a tour guide as long as he struggled to maintain a consistent timecard. While it wasn’t the most romantic of experiences, Steven so eager to explain how the Egyptians would push a hook through the nose of the nobility and Pharaohs, removing their brain in the process, but it certainly endeared you to him.

Drawn to his polite and mild temperament, you found yourself spending more time with him than you could really afford. Somewhere between traveling one more bus stop in order to continue the riveting conversation about the latest mummified crocodiles archaeologists had unearthed on the banks of the Nile and staying an extra thirty minutes after your shift to help Steven with the work that he had managed to rack up after three days away with little to no explanation as to where he had been, you found yourself struggling to maintain your focus on his narration.

Boredom wasn’t the cause of your affliction. No, worse than that. It was finding yourself tracing the bow of his upper lip with your line of sight, contemplating what it would be like to kiss it. Considering how soft his ebony curls would be to pass your fingers through, and how his long lashes would tickle your skin as he pressed his own lips to the expanse of your skin. Perhaps it was an understatement to claim that you would pray to every God and goddess, Egyptian or otherwise, for an opportunity to brush your fingertips against the grain of the shadow of his beard on his chin, It consumed your every waking moment, not unlike Apep swallowing the boat that Ra traveled upon so he could ride from the East and raise the sun.

You use the pause in conversation in order to switch the topic onto something he was less keen on, needing respite from the way your mind kept falling into the depths of desire, twisting like a pit of vipers in your stomach, before you managed to embarrass yourself beyond measure. “Where are these chocolates from, Steven, they’re very good.”

The bonbons that sat on the tabletop between you both were encased in a crimson-red love-heart box. You hadn’t allowed your own to go into cardiac arrest when he had entered the office holding it, convincing yourself that it couldn’t possibly be for you. Steven had never shown enough interest in you beyond his co-worker or friend to truly indicate that he would be willing to buy such a gift for you.

“Ah-” Steven stumbles over himself, a little eraser in the shape of a scarab beetle falling from his hands and clattering to the table. He’s swift to grab it again, shoving it into a basket after scanning it with a shaky hand. “It was in the- uhm, the reduced section in Tescos… I just thought they looked good and that someone might want to share!” His voice is so insistent, promising that there wasn’t an ulterior motive. It doesn’t ease the way your chest stains under the weight of your disappointment as to pick up another circular chocolate, noting the colorful sprinkles on top.

“That’s kind of you,” You say quietly, cheeks tingling with heat at the knowledge that you had been correct in your suspicions all along, that he could never really want you. It was no secret that women found him attractive, some other co-workers making that very clear on a ‘work night out’ in the local pub, in which they rambled about the way he had shamelessly flirted with them and how charming he had been. While you certainly hadn’t experienced this side of Steven, your own Steven shy and jittery, you envied those girls that held his attention in a way you seemingly failed to achieve.

“Yeah, it’s just… Sharin’ is carin’ an’ all that!” He laughs nervously, the sound bouncing off the stone walls and suffocating you. Were you really that inept in the way of seduction that he felt uncomfortable around you, yet somehow seemed to flirt blatantly with every other woman that worked in the building?!

You exhale shakily, focusing more on the items in your basket as you worked through them, scanning the barcodes and setting them in their pile with a little more force than you intended thanks to your renewed exasperation with yourself. Perhaps the dark circles under his eyes had nothing to do with the lack of sleep he consistently commented on, and rather had everything to do with the boredom he felt spending so much time with you.

“You feelin’ alright?” You hear him question cautiously, having noted the short fuse you seem to have developed within a matter of two sentences.

“Peachy,” you mumble, throwing another toy in the basket with a huff. You know you’re probably coming off as rude, and it’s cruel to give the poor, nervous Steven something else to worry about, but you can’t help feeling a little ridiculous, pining over a man who didn’t like you. He probably knew that you were, and thought poorly of you because you couldn’t control your feelings for him despite him showing not even a small amount of affection for you.

Deft fingers take out another chocolate as he watches you, holding onto it for a moment while he seemingly thinks of something to bring the mood back up again.

“… Have I ever told you the story of Isis and Osiris?” Steven asked, his voice quiet as those mahogany eyes gaze at your face, no doubt scanning your expression for any refusal to listen. But how could you? How could you turn him away when he was looking at you with a level of desperation you’d never seen on him before, wanting to please you, to make you happy again.

You shake your head silently, eyes settling on his face as he sat back in his chair to ready himself for the story. The chocolate pinched between the pads of his thumb and forefinger is melting under his body heat, caving in slightly as the solid chocolate began to liquefy down to the middle.

“Then I’ve done you a disservice! How could I not ‘ave told you the greatest love story in mythology?” He asked you with a nervous grin, pushing aside the toys he was supposed to be sorting through to one side in order to begin his theatrics.

Despite your efforts and your utter frustration, your lips stretched into a smile at his enthusiasm. How could you not? It was endlessly charming. He’s sitting up, his free hand laying his palm across the tabletop and fingers splayed wide. They’re tanned, large. The veins on the back have a blue tint, protruding and appearing more intense under the lighting. Perhaps if you stopped staring, you would have noticed the years of built-up scarring across his knuckles.

Immediately, your mind begins falling into the bad habit that it had developed over the time you and Steven had spent together, producing utterly obscene images. His palms cupping and grasping at your breasts, thumbs torturing your nipples. His fingers pushing into your dripping cun- No no no STOP! Stop it!

How ridiculous it was, that you were so invested in a man who wasn’t at all interested in you. So overcome with need for him that you couldn’t even focus on his voice without wanting him to bend you across the tabletop-

“Well,” Steven begins, the chocolate he continued to pinch beginning to cave in from the heat between his thumb pad and fingertip, “Isis was married to the King of Egypt, Osiris, and she supported him with his rule.” His eyes are set firmly on your face, ensuring that you still wanted to listen to him ramble. It meant you simply couldn’t allow yourself to drift into the realm of daydreams, because he would notice as soon as your eyes glazed over.

Seeing no disdain for his voice, Steven continued, a grin spreading across his face as he allowed himself to get excited about his storytelling.

“Isis helped the women of Egypt with skills, teachin’ them how to weave and bake and brew beer. Both she and Osiris were loved, and this caused Isis’ brother, Seth to get jealous, and so he hatched a plan.” He’s sparkling, his keenness rolling off him in waves. The dark circles under his eyes didn’t seem so stark, and he didn’t stammer as he spoke, driven by his love for Egyptian myth.

“Seth trapped Osiris in a wooden chest, which he covered in lead and threw in the Nile. With Osiris out of the way, Seth became King of Egypt- Oh, bugger“ he paused, finally having noted that the once circular chocolate bonbon was flat between his fingers, coating his fingers in sticky, melted chocolate.

He was swift to rectify the problem, lifting his thumb to his mouth with a mumble of ‘sorry’ and ‘pardon me’, wrapping his lips around it and sucking the chocolate from his skin. You watch as his upper lip drags across his knuckle, Steven’s eyes closed as he relished the taste of the chocolate against his tongue. It was torturous, like someone had lit the touch paper in your abdomen and the fire was spreading through your veins, crawling up your spine. The pink of his tongue slips from his lips, pulling across his fingerprint and collecting the chocolate left behind.

As if he knew your mouth was watering as you watched him, his bronze eyes lift to find your own. Looking through his lashes at you as he slipped his finger into his mouth too, cleaning his fingerprint with his deft tongue. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole in your chair. Was- Was that meant to look so erotic?!

“Mhm, so as I was sayin’,” he continued as though he hadn’t just single-handedly flooded your panties, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Seth became the King of Egypt, and Isis was devastated.” Despite your best efforts, his voice was fading out, and you found yourself just staring at the man in front of you. You studied his dark hair that fell in tight ringlets in front of his forehead, his deep, emotive eyes, and his sharp cheekbones. He was just stunningly handsome, it was no wonder he felt so confident flirting with girls he actually liked.

It was during this assessment of his face as he continued to talk about Isis’ revenge that you noted the chocolate spread on his lower lip. Utterly exhausted from trying to push away the filthy daydreams that flashed into your mind's eye, you let them run ragged. You’d sacrifice yourself to the Egyptian Gods if it meant you could run your tongue across the expanse of his lip, tasting the chocolate against his skin. Though, you were entirely sure that he would taste much sweeter-

“There somethin’ on my face?”

You startle immediately, eyes so wide you can feel your eyelids strain. It’s like ice water had been thrown on your blazing body, a panic settling in now that you have been caught. When your mind catches back up with your line of vision, you see Steven gazing at you with an innocent look of confusion, his brows pulled up in the middle.

“Ah- y… Yeah, you have chocolate on your lip,” you admit weakly, pointing vaguely at his mouth with a shaky hand. Steven laughs nervously, shaking his head in his embarrassment.

“Silly me! Can’t even feed myself properly!” His comments are strained as he wipes the pad of his thumb across his mouth in an attempt to remove the sticky residue. The veins in the back of his palm are prominent still, catching your eye. Your brain stills entirely. It’s infuriating, watching him struggle so much to remove the stain, somehow managing to miss it entirely every time he passes his digits over his lips.

“Steven,” you whisper, a little breathless now as you feel your blood boil under your skin with arousal.

“It’s alright, I got it. Stubborn bugger!” He laughs again, the sound lacking humor in his mortified state.

“Steven-“

“Why can’t I ju-“

Scraping the legs of the chair you had been sitting in across the hard flooring, you stand in a violent fashion, stunning Steven into silence when you reach across the tabletop and grab his chin with a firm grip, forcing him to look up at you.

“Sit still,” you insist, desperate to ease your devastatingly hot arousal by taking away the distracting variable. Swiping your tongue over the pad of your own thumb mindlessly, you apply pressure to the affected skin and clean the chocolate from his mouth with a few passes.

Steven sits perfectly still for you, almost stiff in your palm as your fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his cheeks as you hold him in place. If it wasn’t for the heat radiating from his skin, you’d think he’s been mummified into this position.

Glancing up from his mouth into his eyes, you feel your heart stop at the view. Steven is looking at you through his lashes with almost a needy look. There’s an intense longing to his eyes that almost has your knees buckling, his jaw slack as he gazes up at you. Rose spreads across his cheeks, a pink tinge that explains the feverish feeling to his skin underneath your hand.

“Steven,” you whisper, heart in your throat as you gaze back at him. Surely you weren’t imagining the tension prickling in the air between the two of you? You couldn’t describe it in any other way other than a gas leak. The invisible, volatile gas lingering in the air, laying in wait for the slightest drag of friction to light a spark and ignite the museum and everything in it. It was suffocating, burning your lungs.

Did he look at the other girls like this? The ones that bragged about how charming he was when he flirted with them in the entrance hall or wooed them on lunch break in the form of a compliment about their hair. Did he look at them with such a clear and defined need for them to climb across the table and kiss him?

Trembling fingers ease their grip on his jaw, slowly pulling away to slump back into your chair. Your heart is thumping so loud it’s like thunder in your ears, drowning out the shaky exhale that you release as you finally break eye contact with Steven and turn your attention back to the task at hand- whatever it was, you can barely remember why you were even here anymore.

“S-Sorry to interrupt,” you stumble over your words a little, motioning with a flick of your wrist for Steven to carry on, refusing to look up from the ankh necklace that you had blindly picked up from your basket. It was a cheap metal, not at all heavy, with a simple pendant. Though the Ankh was a symbol of life, you needn’t wear the charm as proof of living- the pulse of blood that you swore you could feel through every single extension in your veins made your condition evident enough.

Much to your utter dismay, Steven didn’t continue talking, the pressure in the air pulling your lungs even tighter. He just gazed at you with hooded eyes and parted mouth. It was utterly disarming, the way his tongue swiped across his lip as if to taste the area you’d touched.

“Steven, I really didn’t mean to be rude-“

“You can’t just be doin’ that,” he spoke on an exhale, sounding positively wrecked.

“I know, I’m sorry, I really di-“

“No no, you can’t be doin’ that and leavin’ me like this!” He insists, in a pleading tone, pitchy and almost whiney. You don’t know what to do as you stare at him, and you swear you must look like a fish out of water due to the way your mouth opens and closes as you try to form a sentence in response.

Maybe it’s the combination of pining after Steven, a late night, and scanning barcodes for hours on end, but you swore you could feel the dynamic between you shift significantly. As though it was no longer Steven that held the power to change the kind of relationship the two of you shared. It was as if he had relinquished that power to you, and now he waited for you to make the move you had been silently begging Steven to make for many weeks now.

Silence drags between the two of you like nails on a chalkboard, the lack of sound devastatingly uncomfortable. Steven’s muscles are bound tight, seemingly ready to spring from his seat but awaiting your orders with an expectant expression.

It’s not clear to you what exactly snaps the tension between you, but all of a sudden you find yourself leaping into action. You push aside the baskets of merchandise you’d both been sorting through, which clatter to the floor and empty themselves as you climb across the table clumsily. With shaky hands, you take Steven’s face into your palms, catching a glimpse of his wide eyes just before you press your lips to his messily.

A moan rips from Steven’s throat and into the kiss, a broken, wrecked sound. The soft, plump flesh of his lips settles so perfectly against your own and yet the way they move against each other is clumsy. Nervousness shared between the both of you makes it hard to time the kiss just right, noses bumping and teeth clacking against each other, yet you’ve never experienced such mind-numbing relief.

Stumbling swiftly to pull away, to lower yourself from the table, you find your body moving itself without the receptors of your brain even having thought it up. Your leg hooks over the expanse of his thighs, settling your hips in his lap and resting the weight of your body against the muscles there. He fumbles with the syllables of your name like it’s a foreign language as you wind your fingers in his hair, taking a firm grip of it and pulling his face towards your own.

Inexperience coats his every action like thick honey that Steven can’t shake, but it emboldens you. Somehow this new position bridges the awkwardness of your first kiss, and your lips mould against his in a much smoother, precise way. You’re able to part his mouth, sliding your tongue against his and tasting the cocoa that had settled there. Judging by the hum of pleasure that ripples in his chest, Steven can taste it also. His scalp is warm underneath your fingertips as you wind his ebony locks around your digits, getting a firmer grip of the strands as you push his face impossibly closer to yours. This proximity isn’t enough. It can’t ever be enough.

Tearing your mouth from his before you lose yourself to it, your exhale sounds pitchy and wrong to your own ears. Almost as though it had pained you. Regardless, your lips busy themself on his jaw, pressing firm kisses along the length of the skin stretching across the bone there before trailing down his neck. Goosebumps seem to litter his skin in the wake of your ministrations, his head tilting backward slowly in an attempt to expose more of his throat to you.

His pulse is heavy as you take the skin above his jugular between your teeth, sucking the skin there so perfect hues of purple and red blossom throughout his tan. His palms settle shakily on your thighs and he digs his fingertips into the flesh so it dips to his will, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he unsuccessfully swallows down a raspy ‘Fuck’.

It’s his turn for those deft fingers that haunted your every waking moment to spread through the strands of your hair, stroking across your scalp as you drag your tongue along the expanse of his skin, moaning as his scent imprints itself permanently upon your brain. The scent of cut grass on a rainy day, clean and soft. You’re quick to blow a soft flow of air from your lips across his skin, the area in which you had focused your tongue growing cold under the draft you produced.

“O-Oh god, god darlin’- darlin’ that feels so good,” you can faintly hear him gasp over the rush of your blood through your ears. Tracing the buttons of his shirt, feeling each of them catch on the knuckles of your fingers on your hand's journey down his chest, you hum in agreement, sucking more marks into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

His skin is released from the pressure with a pop upon the sensation of your pinkie brushing the coarse leather of his belt. A weak moan falls from your mouth, eyelids heavy as you watch his head crane to the side to follow the movements of your fingers.

“Steven,” you whisper, tracing the cold brass of his belt buckle as you maintain eye contact with him, “We need to be quick.” You’re breathless with the speed in which this little make-out session is progressing. The wanton desperation that has lingered on your end for so many weeks was making it hard for you to think clearly and maintain a level of decorum. Your hands seem to move of their own accord, hips grinding achingly slow against the tense muscle of his thigh without thought.

“Y-Yeah? Oh- Oh god yes,” he practically wails, hands pushing aside your own as he unhooks the leather strap from the brass tong shakily. “Yes, we do.” Both of your movements are almost feverish as Steven lifts his hips from the chair, accidentally grinding his hardening cock against your aching, clothed cunt while you pull his belt from the loops of his pants.

Whimpers bubble in your throat, chest tight as you swiftly throw his belt to the floor and struggle to make quick work of the button on your own pants. Your hands are so shaky, the bones in your fingers almost like jelly as you flub getting ahold of the pesky metal circle.

“F-Fuck, Steven I-“

“Come ‘ere,” his husky voice soothes the impatient panic bubbling under the surface of your skin. Your hands busy themselves in his curls one more as you watch his fingers easily slip the pesky button from its loop, easing the waistband of your pants. He doesn’t stop there, pinching the zipper between his forefinger and thumb and dragging it down. The sound is as loud as gunfire in your ears, your heart thrumming violently against your sternum with the adrenaline of the moment.

The exhale that seeps from your lungs is shaky as you use your knees on the edge of the chair to sit up and slip your pants from your hips, thumbs dragging over the flesh of your hip bones and tracing the lacy material of your panties. You find yourself praising Isis that you’d chosen a nice pair to wear today as he stares down at them, a mixture of lust and anxiety swirling in the coffee color of his iris’.

It’s your turn to unbutton his pants, somehow managing to ease your own nerves to open them up without a hitch before undoing his fly. Your breath is a little heavy with excitement as you palm the bulge. Once again, Steven’s head dips back with a low groan as you slip your hand inside his boxers to wrap your fingers around the velvety skin of his cock. His hips jut slightly against your touch, the grip his fingers have on your thighs almost bruising now. There’s precum beading at the tip, you can feel it smear underneath your thumbprint across the silky smooth head.

“Oh-ohhhh fuck,” Steven chokes, hips jerking up under your touch to gain further friction. You can feel his cock twitch underneath your palm, can hear shuddering inhale and exhale of his lungs as he attempts to ease the taut muscles in his thighs. You can make him feel even better. You want him to feel better-

Sinking slowly from his lap to the floor, you settle your torso between his thighs as you continue to ever so lightly stroke your fist over the length of his cock. He’s so pretty, the rosy skin is such a deep red it’s almost purple.

“Darlin’ where are you goin’-?” His lazy, slurred question cuts suddenly into a gasp, his head snapping up from its relaxed position to show his startled expression in response to the flat of your tongue tracing the slick precum leaking from his flushed, swollen tip. You swear you can see his dark eyes, almost black as a result of his dilated pupils, roll all the way back into his skull as you take him hot and heavy, further into your throat. His hand immediately jumps into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to steady himself against your ministrations out of concern that you’re working him far too quickly.

Your cunt pulses needily between your thighs, toes curling in your shoes as you focus your attention on sucking his cock. He’s deep in your mouth, head pushing against your palette as the tip of your tongue traces the ridge of his veins on the underside of the soft flesh. His cock twitches again when you moan around his length, the vibrations shooting down his cock and settling at the base of his spine with an unintelligible moan.

“I c-can’t, darlin’, I can’t! I can’t-‘ The fingers wound deep into the strands of your hair pull you off his cock quickly, the rapidly increasing pressure threatening to burst forward in his shuddering abdomen. Your own intake of oxygen is heavy and unstable, the sight of him gazing down at you with utterly fucked out eyes almost enough to drive you to the edge.

Quick to your feet, you drag your eyes over his sensitive body. The leaking tip of his flushed cock, the hardening nipples underneath the fabric of his shirt, it all makes your cunt flutter around nothing as it begs to be filled. It’s impossible to hold yourself back now, body moving on its own as you straddle his lap as you had before, settling your palms on his shoulders to steady yourself.

Much to your surprise, nervous Steven doesn’t need direction. He appears to also be working in his own form of autopilot, eyes hypnotized by the way your eyelids flutter when his digits slip between the soft flesh of your thighs and trace the inside with a gentle touch. You could be imagining it, but you’re certain his fingers are a little shaky as they stroke your slit through the crotch of your panties, stopping just shy of your clit underneath the lacy fabric.

Whimpering at the lack of friction just where you need it, you grind your hips slightly into his fingerprints. Steven is quick to gently shush you, hooking his fingers into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side. The cold air against your soaking folds causes you to grip at the material of Steven’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric with creases you swore he’d never be able to iron out.

“A-Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Soft Steven, lovely Steven checks in with you. Ensures you’re not engaging in something you’re uncomfortable with. It makes your heart yearn for him, more than you have these past few weeks of locking yourself in the bathroom and gazing into the mirror with pained expressions after his fingers brushed yours when taking a pen he’d asked to borrow, or when you would hold your mobile to your chest at the end of a phone call that was about as something as mundane as his shift hours.

“Steven, I want nothing more-“ you strain, reaching behind your own hips to take ahold of his cock and line the weeping tip up perfectly. It catches against your clit first, causing your body to jolt in shock before you sweep him through your dripping folds. Steven grabs ahold of your hips, seemingly at a loss as to where else to hold you. His eyes are flickering all across your bare skin, unable to settle on the best spot.

A chorus of gasps sounds between the two of you as you slowly roll down onto his dick, harmonizing almost like a symphony. He stretches you deliciously, not too big as to hurt- he’s just perfect. Perfectly filling. It’s like you lose all sense of direction, unsure of up from down, left from right. Your hips must stutter and still from the shock because through your haze you feel Steven thrust upward and into you to bridge the gap until he’s bottoming out in your slick pussy.

“Oh- Oh fuck-it feels so good, Steven,” you groan, finally sitting down on his length with your full weight. Your quads are already shaking from the overwhelming pleasure that simmers between them, but the desire to chase the feeling is enough to get them to lift despite the effort it takes.

Rising back over the curve in his cock, you lift yourself back up until only his tip is pressed up against your head. You don’t mean to, truly you don’t, but you pause before you sink back down. Like this, you see the almost pained look in Steven’s hazy eyes as he gazed up at you through his lashes that were damp with pleasured tears. You never want to go without seeing that view for even one day.

“God, please darli- Yesss, oh yes!” He chokes as you rock your hips for him to slip straight back into, his voice cracking under the pressure that builds at the base of his spine. You find that slow and steady pace that tortures you both, pleasurable but teetering on not enough, teasing the embers of a building orgasm but not stoking the fire.

The slippery sound of your cunt being filled over and over echoes and brunches off of the stone museum walls, the air that had held a chill seemingly warming at your shared exertion. You can barely hear Steven’s whimpers, your pulse thrumming so loud in your ears that you’re convinced he can probably feel it thudding in your walls.

There’s tension in your forehead, no doubt from your eyebrows arching in bliss as the ridge of his head catches up against something so incredible that you’re drowning between your thighs. Your movements are stuttering at the way a familiar simmering feeling begins deep inside your abdomen, but Steven doesn’t want you to stop. His hands take a firm grip of your hips, forcing them down as he begins to thrust up and into you in that same lazy pace you had set.

The legs of the chair you’re both sat in strain under the pressure of Steven’s movements, but neither of you seem to notice as he continues to brush against that part of you that just obliterates any coherent thoughts. You’re not exactly sure what part of his body you’re holding onto, so far away from comprehension, but you know you’re holding it in a bruising grip, one that leaves a perfect impression of each of your fingertips that could probably secure a conviction if they were used as evidence of your activities.

Despite the slow, even pace, Steven looks entirely fucked out. His curls are messy and falling into his perfectly pink face. His tongue darts out to wet his chapped lips mindlessly, eyes settled on the way you take his cocks so well. At this angle, he thinks he can see the tip nudging up against your stomach from the inside. That’s all he needs to increase the speed and strength of his thrusts.

It winds you, the brutal pace that he sets, and the gentle smolder is exacerbated into a churning, broiling sensation that rips through you within seconds. Your thighs are tight against his own as you sob out wordlessly, desperate in your attempts to prevent your orgasm from coming too fast. You’ve waited so long, you don’t want this moment to end.

Oh, but Steven is so eager to please. His fumbling fingers are quick to blindly search for your clit as he rocks violently into your soaking wet cunt. It sparks through you like white-hot lightning when he catches the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your reaction must make it obvious he’s found what he’s looking for because he focuses all of his attention on that one spot that has your vision going white.

His cock sinks deep inside you, head continuing to spear that impossibly sensitive spot inside you as he traces your swollen clit with imperfect circles. You barely notice it until it’s surging forward so quickly that you don’t have the time to brace for it. The wail of Steven’s name that escapes you would probably wake the mummified dead on the floor above when your body tremors with a pleasure so annihilating that you’re gushing, flooding around him and streaming tears from your eyes. Your toes curl almost painfully, gripping onto him so hard your knuckles go white.

The extra lubrication and easiness in which Steven is able to sink into your sopping heat must tip him over the edge alongside you, because even through your blinding relief you can feel his back arch slightly as he settles as far into your cunt as he can possibly go, emptying his load with a pitiful groan that melts all of your nerves. He’s slurring your name with each of his final thrusts, keeps going and going until he can’t take it anymore and he’s too sensitive to move.

Boneless, you slump against his heaving chest with a sob. The silence that follows is almost deafening, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to breathe evenly to steady the erratic slamming of your heart against your ribcage.

Massaging his fingers through your hair, Steven lets out a nervous laugh that causes you to burst into a fit of giggles through your exhaustion. Maybe it’s delirium that makes you find humor in the situation or the relief of so many months of pining for this one man. Regardless, it’s freeing. Your body feels lighter, though that could just be you floating after what is easily the best orgasm you’d ever experienced in your life.

“… Oh fuckin’ hell,” Steven is breathless, speaking over your laughter to point at the corner of the ceiling. “The fuckin’ camera.” Of course. This whole museum was covered in CCTV. Though, you hadn’t considered that when he’d practically begged you to make out with him.

“Oh well,” you breathe, sitting up to look him in the eyes and brush his curls from his face with a gentle stroke and a cheeky grin. “I’m sure J.B will love the view.”

END

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