myorestes

[myorestes]

Tease Me Please Me

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

//Summary// If there’s one thing you love more than firefighting it’s getting under Eddie Diaz’s skin. That, of course, can only end one way for you.

//Word Count// 5.40k

//Request//

//Warnings// munch!Eddie Diaz, recording during intercourse, borderline exhibitionism, dirty talk, kitchen sex

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

Entering the station, you take a moment to yourself to bask in the quietness of the house. The fire station was fairly empty at the moment, with it being morning and all. The only person seemingly out is Eddie, who’s cleaning the firetruck.

You smirk to yourself as you approach him, "What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” You call out, before leaning up against the side of the firetruck.

Eddie, who’s focused on his work, seems to pause for a second at your voice, before realizing it’s you. He looks over, shaking his head with a small scoff, his annoyance not being genuine.

"That’ll never get old to you, will it?"

You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean your head on the truck.

“Of course not; Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting, Eds." You chuckle to yourself as you begin to admire his appearance, watching the way his muscles flex as he works on polishing the firetruck.

As you call him by the nickname you’ve picked up from Buck, he once again pauses, this time fully turning to look at you.

"Harmless for you maybe, I’m the one who has to actually deal with it."

You tilt your head to the side as you shrug, your grin growing larger as you continue to tease him, "Come on Eddie…I’m not that bad, am I?"

Eddie’s eyes meet your gaze as he sets down his rag, "(Y/n). You flirt with me every chance you get. I’m pretty sure that Buck, Chim, and Hen have a bet on when you’re gonna jump me."

You hum, acting oblivious as you shrug again, “And here I’d hoped I was subtle.”

“Yeah,” Eddie lets out a low chuckle, his eyes never leaving your face as he leans against the firetruck as well. "About as subtle as sirens in the dead of night."

You fake a pout, “I mean, it’s not my fault you’re insanely attractive, Eds.” You take a step closer to him, sticking your hand out as you lightly brush your fingers against his mustache.

“So, do you plan on keeping the ‘stache?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as you touch his face, the light, delicate caress sending a shiver down his spine. He sighs, keeping his eyes on yours.

“I-I don’t know.” He stutters out, the sudden proximity and the way you’re looking at him makes his breath catch in his throat for a brief moment. His gaze drops to your lips for a fraction of a second, before he clears his throat and pulls away. “Why? Don’t like it?”

Your face softens as he leans into your touch, your heart practically pounding as your eyes lock onto each other’s.

“Oh no,” You pause for a moment, letting your hand fall away as you admire his face, “I like it. A lot, actually.”

Surprise flickers in his eyes, but only for a moment. Still, you notice it. Before he can say anything else, the sound of footsteps echos from behind you guys

You turn to look behind you and see Bobby emerging from his office, a small grin on his face.

“Good morning you two. Did I interrupt something?”

“No, Cap,” Eddie instantly straightens, clearing his throat and glancing away, trying to act casual. “Just finishing up here.”

Bobby hums, seeing right through Eddie’s act, his smile growing as he turns to you. “And what about you?”

You chuckle, sending another smile in Eddie’s direction, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Just keeping him company.”

Eddie glances back at you, eyes narrowing slightly at the look on your face. He opens up his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Bobby continuing.

“Listen, I’m gonna have you guys hang back if we get any fire calls today. Eddie, I want you to be able to show (y/n) how the ambulance works on medical calls.”

You give Bobby an affirmative nod, “Sounds good to me. Hear that Eds? Sounds like you’re gonna be stuck with me all day.”

“Great.”

Bobby chuckles again, shaking his head at the two of you as he grabs a clipboard for his office and walks back inside.

The smirk immediately reappears on your face as you take a step closer to Eddie, looking up at him with wide (e/c) eyes.

“Aw come on, don’t look so grumpy.” You give his shoulder a playful shove; trying not to let your thoughts linger on how hard his muscles feel under your touch. “You get me all to yourself, shouldn’t you be happy?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, shaking his head in mock annoyance, though he can’t help the smile that curls at the corner of his lips. “Oh, I’m ecstatic.”

You grin wider, knowing you managed to get him to smile. You give his shoulder another pat, letting your hand linger for a moment, before stepping back again. “That’ll work for me.”

You give him a wink before turning and heading in the direction of the locker room to change.

Eddie watches as you walk away, a mix of amusement and irritation playing across his features. Suddenly the sound of Buck and Chim’s voices breaks his gaze, and he quickly averts his eyes, getting back to work on cleaning the truck.

A few moments later, you reappear, now in your uniform. Leaving the top unbuttoned just enough to barely expose the skin of your chest, but still technically fall within the dress code.

You open your mouth to call out to Eddie when the station alarm suddenly starts ringing.

Eddie’s head snaps in your direction at the sound of the alarm, immediately noticing your outfit. His eyes roam over the exposed skin of your chest for just a second before averting his gaze. Buck, Chim, and Hen appear from the loft and rush past you guys to the fire truck.

Chim, Hen, and Buck are about to hop in the truck when Bobby stops them, averting his attention over at you and Eddie.

“(y/n) Eddie, dispatch said that this call was just a small structure fire, and no injuries were reported.”

You nod as you glance toward Eddie, “So you want us to stay back?”

Bobby nods, “That’s right. If we need anything though, we’ll let you know through the radio.”

Eddie lets out a small sigh, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Got it.”

You glance over at him, your eyes lingering on his for a moment before looking back at Bobby, “We’ll be on standby then.”

Bobby nods again, patting the side of the ambulance before turning to get into the firetruck. Buck sends both you and Eddie smirks, wiggling his eyebrows as he follows Hen and Chim into the back of the truck.

Eddie ignores them, moving to lean against the back of the ambulance, crossing his arms.

The sunlight makes his brown hair almost shine. His dark brown eyes have an almost golden look. Despite having been up since the early morning, he is still somehow effortlessly attractive. His uniform shirt hugs his upper body in the most delicious way, his muscular build being noticeable through the thin fabric.

You're snapped from your daze as Bobby flips on the lights and sirens and swiftly pulls out of the station.

You let out an internal sigh as you drink in the sight of him, your head filling with thoughts of how the fabric would feel against your fingers. You had only been on the job for a few months, but you somehow already wanted to do unspeakable things to this man. You take a step closer to him, leaning on the back of the ambulance.

“What do we do now? Just…wait?”

As you step closer to him, Eddie’s head turns to you, his eyes roaming over you for a moment before he speaks. There’s a slight hint of tension in his voice, though he tries to play it off.

“Yeah.” He lets out a huff of air, his eyes darting out to the street before settling back onto you.

You hum, looking over at him and tilting your head slightly so that you’re looking at him dead on. You continue to admire him, your eyes slowly raking over his face.

“So…how long do you think they’ll be gone for?”

Eddie sighs as your gaze lands on him, your smirk already telling him that you most likely have something in mind.

“If it’s just a small fire then I’d say probably an hour and a half.”

A mischievous look fills your eyes when he says an hour and a half. You bite your lip to suppress a smile as you push yourself up off the ambulance, moving to stand directly in front of him, your bodies nearly touching.

“An hour and a half, huh? That’s an awful lot amount of time for us to be…alone.” As you speak to him, your voice has a low, almost sultry tone to it; it takes everything in him to not shiver.

He lets out a shaky breath, glancing around for a brief moment before focusing back on you and clearing his throat.

“And what do you suggest we do?”

Your smirk softens into a more suggestive smile. You reach up and brush a strand of hair out of his face, your fingers ever-so-slightly grazing his skin.

“Well, I could think of a few things.”

He lets out a quiet gasp at your touch. His muscles are coiled, and you can see the way his jaw clenches in a halfhearted attempt to stop himself from reacting.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly, "You really need to stop doing that, (y/n).”

You move even closer to him, closing the tiny amount of space that was left between your bodies. Your hand moves, instead coming up to rest on his chest, just above his heart.

"Doing what, Eddie?" You look up at him, feigning innocence as you tilt your head to the side.

He can feel your body against his, the warmth from your skin sending jolts of electricity up his spine.

He looks down at you, a look of frustration and desire in his eyes, “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

You bite your lip, holding back a chuckle as you see the look in his eyes. You can tell he’s fighting a losing battle, slowly giving in to his desires. You brush your thumb across the logo printed on the fabric of his uniform, feeling the hammering of his heart.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.” You hum.

"(Y/n)." he mutters, his voice a low, strained warning.

His resistance just adds fuel to the fire inside you. You want to see him lose control, want him to finally give in to the obvious tension between you two. You let your hand slowly trail down his side, lingering on his hip before coming to a rest on his thigh.

“Yeah?”

Eddie's breath hitches as your hand trails down his body, his hips twitching involuntarily when you rest your hand on his thigh. He swallows hard, the feeling of your body so close to his and your hand on his skin sending a shiver through his entire body. Your breath on his face does absolutely nothing to help him.

It takes every last ounce of restraint he has to not spin you around right here and—

“Well,” you abruptly distance yourself from Eddie, a sly smile curling on your lips. “I'm starving, so I'm gonna go fix myself something to eat."

He looks at you, blinking rapidly, his mind fighting to come up with a response while you smirk at him. However, all he can manage to say is a quiet “uh”

"Have fun being all alone, Eds." you wink, before waltzing away towards the kitchen.

He lets out a frustrated huff of air, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Half torn between wanting to give in to your games and wanting to just grab you and slam you against the nearest wall.

Reaching the loft, you open the fridge and pull out a small pack of bacon. Cutting it open, you plop a pan onto the stove and lay a few slices onto the hot metal.

As you wait for your food to cook, you pull out your phone. You scroll through your Twitter to pass the time; completely oblivious to Eddie’s figure sneaking behind you, until it’s too late.

“You think you’re so damn funny, huh?” His breath feels hot against your neck as he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

Your eyes widen slightly, but before you can muster anything his body is pressed up against your back, his arms caging you against the counter in front of you.

A chill goes down your spine as you hear his voice, low and gravelly in your ear. The feeling of his body pressed against your back makes you shiver, the combination of his words and his breath on the sensitive skin of your neck makes you go weak in the knees.

“Depends on what you think is funny.” You manage to gasp out.

"You're a tease, (y/n). A goddamn tease." He growls in your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, sending a wave of heat through your body.

A shiver runs through your body when you feel his lips press against your neck, the feeling of his teeth nipping at your skin making you let out a sharp gasp. Your head tilts to the side almost involuntarily, giving him more access to your neck.

You grip the edge of the counter in front of you, trying your best to keep yourself upright.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" Eddie mutters against your neck

You let out a shaky breath as you turn your head towards him, the look in his eyes dark and full of desire. His thumb moves from your chin to your bottom lip, gently tracing the soft skin there.

You know you should reply to him, say something clever to keep up your usual attitude, but your mind is suddenly empty of anything but him.

His teeth lightly nip at your skin. You arch your back as best you can with the way he has you pinned against the counter.

"F-fuck, Eds—"

“I'm about two seconds away from bending you over this counter, don't push your luck." Eddie grins against your neck, his lips moving to bite at the sensitive spot just behind your ear.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He murmurs, his voice low and full of desire. "Bent over the counter for anyone to see."

"Eddie, I-You can’t—" You gasp out, your back arching farther into him. You can feel his body pressed up against yours, his hips grinding into your backside.

Eddie hums against your neck, his hands running down your sides until they find the edge of your shirt, slipping underneath and trailing up your stomach. His touch sends jolts of electricity through you.

"Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? You wanted to drive me crazy, to have me lose control?" His breath fans against your skin.

Eddie's words make your head spin as your body responds almost instantly.

"It worked though, didn’t it?”

Before you can even realize what’s happening, Eddie’s spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen island so that you're facing the entrance of the station.

The feeling of his hips pressing against your backside makes a full-on moan escape your lips, his body heat almost overwhelming.

“Voy a hacerte comer esas palabras, princesa.” He growls into your ear.

Jesus Christ.

His Spanish makes your head spin, the low, sultry tone of his voice as he murmurs the words into your ear nearly sending you over the edge. You feel him press up against you, his hips rolling into you, the feeling of his growing arousal against your backside making a shudder go through your body.

You let out another moan, his name on your lips between gasps for air, “Oh my god.”

"You never know when to quit, do you?" He mutters against the back of your neck, his lips delicately trailing kisses down your spine.

You whimper at his touch, your body responding to him as if he's a drug and you're hopelessly addicted.

"It’s like you enjoy being a little minx, huh? Teasing me all day, getting me all bothered.”

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts consumed by the feeling of his lips on your skin, the sound of his voice in your ear, the touch of his hands on your hips.

"F-fuck,” you stutter out before biting down on your lip, trying to hold back another moan.

He rolls his hips into yours again, his body grinding against yours.

The friction from his hips against your clothed core has you gasping again, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. You feel like you're on fire, your entire body thrumming with heat and desire, and all you can think about is him.

“Eddie, please...” you gasp out, your head spinning from the combination of his touch and the sound of his voice in your ear.

Then suddenly, you feel him shuffle behind you. Confused, you crane your neck over your shoulder only to see him grabbing your phone. He leans back over your shoulder, bringing your phone up and holding it to your face. You can barely focus on the screen, your eyes unfocused and dazed.

"Unlock it."

You blink, the request taking a moment to register in your foggy mind. Still, you unlock your phone with shaky hands, managing to type in your passcode through your daze. You don’t know what he’s planning, but at this point, you’re so far gone you don’t even care.

He opens the camera app on your phone before propping it up a few inches in front of you; it perfectly captures the two of you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice low in your ear. “Now let’s see just how much you regret your little game.”

Your eyes grow wide when you comprehend what he’s doing. The thought of it has you suddenly even more turned on. He hits the record button and roughly tugs down your tight uniform bottoms and sinks to his knees.

Your breath hitches at his actions. You can see yourself on the phone screen, your face flushed, your (e/c) eyes darkened with lust, your hair already slightly messy from the way he had you pinned down against the counter.

You try to turn around to look at him, but his hand finds the back of your head, "Keep your eyes on the camera, carñio."

Your breath catches in your throat at the pet name. You'd never seen this dominant side of Eddie, not to this extent at least.

"Y'know, you didn't even ask me if I wanted anything to eat."

Your mind is a hazy mess, your eyes half-lidded as you keep them focused on the camera. You’re at his mercy, and you find that you don’t mind it one bit.

You let out a gasp as you feel his hands move up your thighs, nearing where you need him the most, your breathing stuttering and your body shaking with anticipation.

“But that’s okay,” he continues, “I think I’ve found something much better to eat.”

You hear his words, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of his touch to process them, your mind still trying to regain some lucidity as his hands move even farther up your thighs, just barely grazing the lacy hem of your (f/c) underwear.

“God, you’re beautiful, sweetheart.” He murmurs, voice low and full of need. His hands grip the skin of your thighs, his touch slightly rough.

“And look at that, you’re soaking through your panties, carñio.” Carefully, he drags your underwear to the side, exposing your soaking folds to the cool air.

The feeling of his hands as they slide your underwear to the side has you trembling, your legs shaking as you try to keep yourself upright. You feel him sink to his knees behind you, his breath fanning against your skin, the proximity of his face to the core of your being has you clenching your teeth.

You can’t see his face, but you can feel his presence, and the anticipation is nearly enough to make you cry out.

Eddie runs his hands up your thighs, his touch firm and sure. Then, you feel his hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. You shiver, your body growing hot in anticipation.

You can’t help but gasp as he lets his tongue run up your thigh, so close to where you need him most.

"I swear to g-god, Eddie. If you don't do-" Your words fail you as his tongue slowly breaches your wetness. He holds your hips steady as his tongue dips deeper, just barely breaching your slit.

"M-Motherfuck—" You moan out, your voice growing louder from the sudden pleasure.

Eddie pulls away from your folds with an obnoxiously dramatic pop, "You gotta stay quiet, princesa. Don't want the team to come back and hear these pretty noises, do we?"

You bite down on your lip again, trying to restrain your moans. But it's practically impossible with the way he's slowly teasing you.

"Y-you're being mean." You say, your words coming out shaky from your attempts to stay quiet. You can feel your clit throbbing with desperation.

"Mean?" He mutters, his breath fanning against your skin. "Me? Not at all. I'm being...very generous."

At an agonizing pace, he slides his fingers through your wetness, just missing your sensitive bud before bringing his fingers to his lips, his tongue licking around the digits.

"You taste so sweet...como el cielo.”

You let out a strangled whimper, your body begging for more as his hands continue to wander. He presses a kiss against your clit, the friction of his mustache making your eyes roll back.

“Please,” you gasp out, your voice just above a whisper. “Please, please, please…”

Eddie hums at your words, letting his tongue just barely brush against your sensitive bud. You swiftly cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises.

You look absolutely debauched as you catch sight of yourself in the camera. Your hair is falling in messy wisps across your forehead, uniform bunched around your hips, face flushed, and eyes darkened with lust; The sight of yourself only serves to heighten your arousal. Before you can say anything, you feel two of Eddie's thick fingers press into you, drawing a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat.

"F-fuck—" You bite down on your hand to keep yourself quiet. "More, Eddie—Now."

“Bossy little thing,” He growls as you speak, his fingers curling inside you. “You're not the one in charge here.” he gives a harsh suck against your soaking folds.

You glance at the camera, still recording the two of you. Eddie’s right; and that made something in your stomach turn violently.

You grip the counter, your fingers clenching and unclenching at the edge. You let out another moan, your eyes squeezing shut from the immense amount of sensation.

“So beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he mutters, his words partially muffled against your skin. “Aching and dripping for me. All mine.”

He curls his fingers again, pushing into the spot that makes you cry out, and you barely manage to muffle your cries against your hand.

“God, you’re so loud.”

"Eddie! P-please, please! M’sorry for earlier." You slur deliriously with pleasure, eyes brimmed with hot tears.

He can practically taste the desperation in your voice, feel the tension rippling through your body as he pumps his fingers inside you. He pulls away, standing and smirking, watching as your walls flutter around nothing.

“Are you?”

You nod eagerly, your head hazy with lust, but your mind is just lucid enough to know that your answer will have an effect.

“Yes—” you gasp out, your breathing heavy. “I’m so sorry! Please, Eddie, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t tease you anymore, just please!”

Eddie hums, low and satisfied. He runs his hands up your thighs, watching as they shake in his grip.

“We both know that's a lie, cariño.” He says, his tone slightly mocking. He leans in closer to you until his mouth is right by your ear.

“You know what they say, cariño. Payback’s a bitch.” He gives your shoulder one last teasing bite before dropping back to his knees.

Your mind is still reeling from his words, trying to catch up with the events that just took place. But that all quickly changes the moment you feel his tongue thrust into your soaked slit; replacing where his fingers had previously been.

You wail in delight. Your eyes clench tight once more as Eddie lets out a deep moan from behind you, your sweet taste flooding his tastebuds once again.

He grips your hips to keep you from moving too much, his mouth working you with a newfound fervor as you struggle to keep yourself upright.

"Jesus…just a little more, m'so close—"

This only serves to ignite Eddie. Hearing you admit how close you are, all because of him. The way you’re now falling apart at his touch makes him growl against your skin; the vibrations almost send you over the edge.

He reaches around, harshly rubbing at your sensitive bud as he pulls his mouth away, "Fuck, best meal I've ever had..."

“Oh god—“ You try to choke out, but the words quickly devolve into another whine. “Please, E-Eddie, I’m gonna—”

And right at that moment, a loud, familiar sound fills your and Eddie’s ears; the sound of the firetruck pulling up outside.

"Oh shit." You mutter, your (e/c) eyes growing wide. You glance back at Eddie, your breath catches at the sight of his face.

Eddie’s pupils are blown wide, his face red and sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead. He gives another shaky breath before his eyes lock onto the camera still pointing at your form. For a moment, he considers stopping the recording, but...

Maybe it’s the way you look, all breathless and needy. Or how your uniform is pulled down, completely exposing your bottom half. All Eddie knows, at this moment, is that you two can’t stop.

“Eddie, W-We can’t—“

“We can.” Eddie says, his voice firm.

He reaches out, grabs the camera from the island, and holds it inches from your face, his voice still firm.

“You see this? You see what you look like all flushed and whiny, princess?” You can hear him give a low noise, his voice slightly shaky. "tan hermosa, tan perfecta, toda mía."

You spare one last look over your shoulder to Eddie. His chin is practically dripping with your juices, his lips red and swollen.

His dark brown eyes meet yours. As you open your mouth to speak, he suddenly dives right back in. Going to work with a newfound vigor.

You feel your hips arch slightly against his mouth, your legs shaking and your breathing coming out in quick gasps. You clench your teeth, trying to keep yourself from crying out.

Your hands, which had been gripping the counter, quickly move to cover your mouth, trying to muffle your series of pathetic whines.

You bite down on your hand, as hard as you can to keep from moaning, but the more you hear your teammates' voices, the harder it is to keep yourself in check.

You listen to Buck's laughter, you hear the deep rumble of Bobby's voice talking about dinner plans, you hear Hen's voice as she enters a conversation with Chimney—

All you can think about at that moment is that at any second, any one of them could walk into the kitchen and see the two of you.

Shamefully, that thought is enough to send you over the edge.

Your body feels tense as your climax washes over you, "F-fuck—E-Eddie!"

Your legs are shaking more than ever, so much so that you're sure if Eddie wasn't holding you up, you would have fallen to the ground. Wave after wave that rolls through you, Eddie’s tongue is there to accompany it.

It’s too much. Everything’s overwhelming. You’re overstimulated, your brain is fuzzy, and your body is hot. You’re sure if this continues any longer, you’ll break. The sounds of the team outside seem to fade into the background for a moment.

"Goddamn Eddie, p-please.” You can barely hear your voice over your ragged breathing.

The rest of the team's voices echo through the station, you swear you can hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as he finally lets up.

He pulls away, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth, his face flushed and sweaty. You breathe heavily, leaning forward on the counter, your body still shuddering from the aftereffects of your orgasm.

You're about to try and fix your uniform, to make yourself look at least a little presentable when suddenly, you hear footsteps clambering up the loft stairs. You panic and start to scramble to pull your pants back up and as you manage to, Eddie swiftly slinks beside you so they don't suspect anything.

You see Buck’s head of curls as he clambers up the loft stairs, "You guys cooking?" he chirps.

Before you can open your mouth to speak, Eddie pipes up.

“Yep, figured that we’d go on and get a head start on dinner.” He says, leaning casually against the counter. Y’know, his tone is surprisingly calm for a man who had just had his head buried between your legs.

Buck smiles right back, seemingly clueless to what had been going on mere seconds before.

"Alright! Lemme know when it's ready, I'm starving."

He quickly turns back around and disappears, and you let yourself breathe again. You feel Eddie's hand fall to the small of your back.

"You did so well." He whispers in your ear, his voice low and gravely. "I'm proud of you."

You give him a weak smile, trying to keep your breathing under control, but it doesn't help that every nerve ending in your body is still on fire. Everything is still so sensitive, and you can't help but shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

He turns you so you're facing him, and you practically collapse into his chest. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him. You bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his sweat and cologne.

"Y-you're a dick, sometimes.” You mutter, still trying to calm your breathing as he steadies himself, you look down at the front of his pants and then back up to him. "Do you want me to...?"

Catching your drift, Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush with a light pink dusting.

"I uh—I a-already..." He stutters for a moment, trying to find his words.

You raise an eyebrow at his reaction, and your lips pull into a sly smile.

"Really? I didn’t even touch you.” You tease him, your finger slowly moving down his chest.

He swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat as your hand slowly makes its way down his chest. He looks away, his cheeks still a dusted pink as a shiver goes through him.

"Yeah well,” He stutters, "Can you blame me?”

You can't help but giggle at his response, your face splitting into a grin as you look up at him. You reach up and pat him on the cheek.

"You're cute when you get all flustered."

His blush deepens at your touch, and he lets out a huff, trying to hold on to any shred of composure he has left.

“I am not flustered, I-I don’t get flustered.” He says defensively, finally meeting your gaze.

“Really? Cause you look pretty flustered to me.” You say smugly.

"Oh, shut up, cariño." he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You give a soft hum, "Never, Eds. I'm gonna enjoy this for as long as I can."

"I'm gonna make you eat those words later, princesa."

You raise an eyebrow at him, fighting the shiver that runs down your spine at the nickname.

"Is that a promise?" You say, leaning your body a little closer to his.

He grins down at you, a cheeky look on his face, "It's a guarantee."

[myorestes]

- the calendar ✰ e. buckley (smut version)

Summary: an unexpected person stars for the 118 in the firefighter calendar  Genre: angst & smut Warnings: smut (quickie at work, oral m receiving, unprotected p in v) & swearing & jealousy  Pairing: evan buckley x fem!reader Word count: 2.6k Note: this is my first ever time writing smut so pls pls be kind (or i’ll cry) but also pls leave constructive criticism, if it is bad i need to know so i can get better.

Due to the strict ‘no fraternisation’ rule at the 118, you and Evan had kept your relationship a secret. There had been a few times where someone had nearly caught the two of you, including Eddie walking into the shower room while you and Buck were sharing one cubicle, but no one had caught on yet. In this scenario, Buck had quickly picked you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and covered your mouth with his hand. 

Everyone had just assumed the two of you were best friends, you guys had lots of inside jokes and were always working out together, and today was no different. All the men were working out extra hard as the firefighter calendar had just been announced and they were all fighting to star.

Last year, Chimney had surprised everyone and had represented the 118 in the calendar, so the competition was on. Today was the last day of submissions, and impulsively you had decided to enter some photos for the calendar. You didn't need to take any new photos as for Buck’s birthday the month before, you had done a sexy photoshoot and periodically sent them to him, printing off a few which he kept in his wallet. 

After the submissions had closed, everyone had been eagerly checking the mail for the calendar delivery as they had decided not to announce who was featuring for each firehouse prior to the release. 

Weeks later, you walked into the fire house and were met with whistles by some of the men who you had not spoken to much. Forgetting you had submitted pictures for the calendar you were confused at the sudden attention you were receiving. 

“Why is everyone being so weird today?” you asked walking up to Hen, who was also looking at you funny.

“You don’t know?” questioned Hen, to which you simply shook your head.

“Good morning, Miss August!” Eddie exclaimed as he saw you appear upstairs. Suddenly the pieces clicked together, you must have been picked for the calendar.

“Miss August? What are you talking about?” Evan looked up, pausing as he poured himself a drink.

“y/n here, was chosen to represent the 118 in the firefighter calendar.” Eddie said as he pulled the calendar off the wall, flicking to August.

Suddenly, you were met with a picture of you on your knees, wearing your fireproof trousers but no top, the suspenders on your trousers over your shoulders, giving you a small bit of modesty. The strips of fabric only just covered your nipples, the outline of piercings visible through the fabric of the suspenders. 

You looked up to Buck whose jaw clenched as he took in the picture before him, which he had seen before, as a copy of it lived behind his driver's license in his wallet. You could see as he tried to regain his composure before deciding what to say next. 

“I, uh, I wasn't aware you had submitted pictures for the calendar?” Buck questioned, his voice wavering as he tried to hide his agitation. Now, Buck was usually not a jealous guy, but seeing that picture of you on display on the wall of the firehouse made him want to drive to every firehouse and rip up all the copies of the calendar that had been printed. 

“Yeah, I did it on the last day of submissions, I didn't think I'd get picked so I just forgot about it,” you smiled as you spoke to Evan. The two of you held eye contact, not paying attention to the rest of the crew bustling around you. “I must admit I was confused with the wolf whistles when I walked in this morning.” 

This sentence triggered Evan’s protectiveness.

“People have been whistling at you? Who? Point them out.” Buck demanded as he walked over to the balcony overlooking the main floor.

“Buck, dude, calm down,” Eddie said as he walked over to Buck “She’s single, and she looks great, of course there’s gonna be some attention.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie looked at Buck as he paced, clearly confused by his behaviour.

“Oh y/n, I’ve been meaning to get your help with something, could you come help me?” Buck asked, ignoring the looks Eddie was sending his way.

“Uhh, yeah, just let me drop my bag,” you said as you headed to go put it down.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Buck grabbed your bag and walked to the locker room downstairs and put it in your locker. 

“Buck?” You asked repeatedly as you followed him, getting louder each time until he finally stopped pacing in the locker room. 

“Sorry, it’s just, I don’t like everyone seeing you like that,” Buck whispers as he walks towards you. Thankfully the two of you were in a blindspot to the rest of the firehouse so no one could see as he put his hand up to your face and raised your chin so you were looking into his eyes. “Everyone keeps looking at you, because they think you’re single and I just wish I could tell everyone you’re mine.”

“I’m sorry Buck, I should’ve asked you first,” you whispered.

“No, no, it’s your body and you look great in those photos. I just get a little insecure sometimes,” Buck whispered, fiddling with your fingers as you spoke. 

“I love you Buck.”

“I love you too. Also, I’m going to be having a boner for the entire month of August at work now, so thank you for that.” Buck laughed

“You know, my shift hasn’t officially started, and I was thinking I needed a shower. Plus, jealous Buck is kind of hot.” you said as you pulled Buck towards the showers.

“That's interesting, because I was thinking I needed a shower after that last call,” Buck said as he used his free hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You definitely do,” You said as you started to unbutton your own shirt. 

Buck’s hands quickly copied yours and raced to unbutton his shirt, as he did he leant forward and harshly attached your lips to his. With your shirt unbuttoned, you placed your hands on Buck’s shoulders, pushing him into the shower cubicle behind the pair of you and easing the shirt off his torso. You and Evan moved in sync as he simultaneously pushed your shirt off your shoulders.

Your feet tangled together as you passionately tumbled into the cubicle. With your lips still locked you reached down and began undoing your belt, Buck quickly following suit. Within seconds, both of your clothing was heaped on the bench, leaving the pair of you in your underwear. 

You reached your hand down between the two of you and you could feel Buck’s hardness through his underwear. You gently palmed him, causing him to groan and lean into you. He very quickly shed his underwear in a desperate effort to feel your skin on his. 

You separated your lips, causing Buck to groan at the loss of contact. Buck’s disappointment was short lived as you began to kiss your way down his neck and his torso. As you dropped to your knees you looked up at Buck who gently stroked your head, beginning to clasp your hair into a ponytail. 

You leant forward and used your hand to hold Buck as you began to deliver small licks to his tip, causing Buck to groan loudly. 

“Please stop teasing,” Buck whimpered. At this you took him in your mouth causing him to drop his head back against the wall in pleasure. 

As you knew your time was likely to be cut short any moment, you sped up your bobbing on Buck’s cock. After a minute you removed Buck from your mouth and licked a stripe all along the underside of him and cradled his balls as your tongue serviced him. 

“Get up here, I’m going to finish soon if you keep that up,” Buck pulled your head away from his crotch and pulled you up so you were standing again. As you stood, precum and saliva leaked from your mouth and you wiped your mouth as you looked back at Buck.

He quickly reached behind and unclasped your bra, kissing your neck and chest as he did so. He kissed down the gap between your breasts and then paid attention to your nipples. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the piercing that lived there, while his other hand twisted your other nipple. Unable to speak from the sensations, you just moaned in pleasure, holding tightly onto the curls at the nape of Buck’s neck. 

His lips went back up to your neck, and his hand went down to your underwear and started pushing your panties off your hips and helping you step out of them. Once your underwear was flung to somewhere in the cubicle his fingers danced over your pelvis before landing on your clit. He rubbed gently with his thumb before his fingers slowly worked their way down to your opening. His fingers gently pressed against your thighs, encouraging you to slightly part them to give him better access. 

“You are so beautiful,” Buck breathed. His face was mere millimeters from yours, with his curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat of the excitement. 

“Buck please,” You groaned, his fingers were slowly exploring you, causing you to gently bite down on his muscular shoulder. 

“Please what baby? I need to hear your words,” he breathed heavily. His fingers were delicately reaching the most pleasurable place while his thumb worked your clit. 

“I, I need your cock, please” You spoke breathlessly. Despite being with Buck many times, the passion had never ceased and every single time with him was exhilarating. 

“Where baby? Where?” He teased. He knew damn well where, he just loved watching you writhe under his thumb. 

“B-Buck, Please, in-inside,” Every syllable was hard for you to push out as you edged closer to the brink. 

“Just let go first,” He said. As he did, you felt your legs begin to wobble, luckily Buck had began to hold you up with his other hand before. You let out a loud moan as he fingered you over the edge and then he quickly retracted his fingers. He maintained eye contact as he licked your juices off his two fingers. 

“Delicious,” he muttered. 

“I think we’re going to need this for the noise,” Buck said as he leant past the wall and turned the shower on. You both stood in the far end of the shower part of the cubicle as you had learnt the hard way that shower sex, under the water, was very dangerous and ended up in fits of giggles. 

Buck grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, pressed your back into the wall and littered your neck in light kisses. 

“Who’s teasing now?” You asked as you felt Buck’s length gently stroke your pussy but not going in. He breathed a laugh and pressed his lips to yours for a moment. 

“As you wish ma’am,” Buck whispered as he maneuvered himself to your entrance. You hissed as he started to push himself into you. Another thing you were not used to despite being with Buck so many times, was his size. 

“More, please.” you grunted, trying to grind yourself into him to get him deeper. 

At your request, Buck’s hands tightened on your thighs, his mouth attacking your neck and pushed himself all the way in. For a moment, he stilled, allowing you to get accustomed to him and then slowly began to thrust. 

Each thrust hit you so deeply, putting you in a state of bliss. So much so, that you nearly didn’t hear the door to the bathroom open. You quickly tapped Buck’s shoulder to alert him as he was borderline drunk on you, and could not form a coherent thought, let alone be aware of his surroundings. 

“Buck? Is that you?” Eddie’s voice rang out.

“Y-Yeah,” Buck stuttered. He was still inside you and struggled to reply without moaning. You gently pushed your hips into him in a desperate need for friction. 

“Are you okay? You sound funny?” Eddie asked. This made you nearly laugh so one of Buck’s hands quickly covered your mouth, and he glared into your eyes. 

“All good, water just went cold,” He shouted back, focusing on trying to sound normal.

“Have you seen y/n? Her shift is about to start and we need to do a handover?” Eddie asked. 

“I think I saw her take a phone call, I’m sure she will be back in any minute,” Buck replied as he slowly began pulling himself out of you. 

“Okay, thanks. See you back upstairs when you’re done” Eddie said.

“I’ll be done any minute,” Buck smirked as he slowly re-entered you. 

You both waited for the bathroom door to close, and once it did Buck began pistoning his hips into you at an ungodly pace. You must have looked like a mess as you leant back into the wall, holding tightly his shoulders. 

“Buck, please,” you moaned. He reached on of his hands down between you and rubbed your clit causing you to lean forward and bit his shoulder. 

“I’m so close,” He grunted as he continued to pound into you, his pace unrelenting. 

The edges of your vision began to blur as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. The coil in the pit of your torso clenched so tight until you finally let go. Your legs began shaking, unable to catch your breath as you came all over his cock. 

Buck kept his pace as he worked his way to his end, his load shooting deep inside you as you milked him. He leant forward, his forehead against yours as he tried to regain his breath. He was still inside you and was still leaking cum as he kissed you gently.

Once you had both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and set you gently on the floor. 

“That was amazing,” he sighed as he began to get feeling back in his legs. 

“Now I really need a shower,” you said as you pushed the two of you under the water, beginning to wash the two of you. “I love you, Evan.”

He gently kissed you on the shoulder before lathering the two of you up with soap. The next few minutes were spent with him delicately washing you, and then you him. 

This moment of intimacy felt so special, you almost didn’t want to get out of the shower. You were in pure bliss in this moment with him.

“You are the love of my life,” Evan breathed as he kissed you gently. 

[myorestes]

Save the Best for Last

//Pairing// Evan “Buck” Buckley x Fem!Reader

//Summary// After so many terrible dates, you always seem to find yourself coming back to Buck’s loft.

//Word Count// 5.58k

//Request// smut prompts #2 & #4

//Warnings// smutty smut smut :)), Evan Buckley being a certified munch, lazy handjobs, p in v sex, and possessive talk

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

"Oh, goddamn it."

Here you are, standing outside Buck's loft door at 10:00 at night with a six-pack of beer in hand as you contemplate your life choices.

Your latest date had been a complete and total disaster.

The man was loud, obnoxious, and a bit too handsy for your taste. So, you left the date early feeling frustrated and angry. All you want to do is relax and complain to your best friend.

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out your key to Buck's place. Letting yourself in, you sigh quietly as you slip your jacket off. The loft is empty and quiet.

"Buck?" You call out, setting the beer in the fridge.

Maybe he’s in the shower? Or asleep? You don’t get a response, so you head into the living room, flopping down onto Buck’s new couch with a huff.

You lean your head back against the couch, your eyes fluttering shut as you sigh heavily. As you sit there mentally cursing out your dumb date, the sound of footsteps causes you to open your exhausted (e/c) eyes, looking over at the source of the noise; it’s Buck, walking out of his steaming bathroom.

Completely naked.

You immediately turned red, quickly looking away and sitting up. "Jesus Christ," you blurt out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Buck, for god's sake, a towel please." You keep your eyes trained on the wall in front of you, refusing to look at your equally embarrassed friend.

"Oh—oh god, I didn’t know you came in!” Buck mumbles, grabbing a discarded towel from the bathroom floor and wrapping it around his waist.

Well, now you understand how he got the nickname Firehose.

"How long have you been here?"

"Not long." You mutter, still refusing to look at him. The image of his bare chest is burned into your brain. What you wouldn’t give to rake your fingers over his toned muscles—

Nope. Stop. No, nope. Bad thoughts.

“I’m just uh, gonna go grab some clothes.” Buck practically scurries away, disappearing up the stairs to his bedroom. You exhale, letting out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Finally looking away from the wall, you bury your face in your hands.

This is bad. You and Buck are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. You need to get these feelings under control, but it’s so, so hard.

Buck emerges a moment later, thankfully with underwear and sweatpants on, although his chest is still bare. You try not to stare at his toned upper body as he shuffles back over to the couch, plopping himself down next to you; leaving little to no space. You desperately try not to think about it.

"S-so, how was your date?" He asks, his voice is casual but a tinge of tension in his words.

You try not to grimace as you remember the disaster that had been your evening. “Ugh, it was terrible. He was so loud and obnoxious, it was awful.” You sigh heavily, shaking your head. “I don’t know why I keep going on these stupid dates, honestly.”

Buck shifts next to you, his shoulder brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. He’s so close, that you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of his body. It’s driving you crazy.

You suddenly jerk forward, rubbing your sweaty palms on your dress as you stand, “I uh, I got us beer—to drink. Do you want one?”

Smooth, real smooth (y/n).

Buck nods, his eyes following you as you walk away, his gaze trailing down your body hungrily. He can’t help it, the sight of your curves in that tight (f/c) dress is so damn distracting. He swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you as you disappear into the kitchen.

You open the fridge door, the cool air hitting your flushed face. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You need to stop reacting this way to him, you and Buck are just friends. No matter what your stupid heart may think.

You grab a couple of beers, opening one for Buck and one for yourself. Heading back into the living room, you desperately try to get your thoughts under control.

Buck’s in the same spot as before when you come back, his arm stretched out along the back of the couch. You hand him the beer and sit back down on the couch, putting a little distance between you this time.

As you get comfortable, you take a long swig of your drink. Buck does the same, his eyes flicking over to you as he does.

The tension in the room feels thick as if you could slice through it with a knife. You take another sip of beer, glancing over at Buck. He’s still looking at you, his eyes roaming over your face. It’s making you nervous.

“What?” You ask, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Hm?" Buck seems to snap out of his thoughts, blinking at you. "Oh, uh, nothing—Just thinking." He replies, looking away quickly and taking another drink of beer.

You along nod awkwardly, taking another sip of your beer as you try to ignore the way Buck’s eyes still glance at you,“Don’t strain yourself too hard.”

Buck snorts, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic comment. The corner of his lips twitch upwards, a small smirk growing on his face. But the smirk fades quickly, a flicker of something you can’t quite place flashing across his eyes.

"You’re just hilarious, y'know that?” He teases, but there’s an undertone to it that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You roll your eyes at him, though your heart skips a beat at his smirk. You’re suddenly very aware of how close you two have gotten again, the heat from his body practically seeping through his clothes onto your own skin.

“Damn right, I am.” You snark back at him, taking another drink of beer as you try to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest.

Buck lets out a soft laugh, his eyes locking on yours again. The smirk on his face fades as he takes a deep breath, seeming to come to some kind of decision. He shifts closer, his body leaning slightly into yours.

"Can I ask you something?"

You involuntarily tense up, your heart slamming in your chest. His sudden shift in demeanor can’t help but make you nervous, you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Sure, yeah.” You say, trying to keep your voice even. You turn towards him, meeting his gaze with your own. “What’s up?”

Buck hesitates for a moment, his tongue darting out as he wets his lips. He’s so close to you now, his face only a few inches away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than before, barely above a whisper.

"Why do you keep going on these dates?"

His question catches you off guard, making your stomach twist into knots. You certainly hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. You can feel your heart racing, the sound of it drumming in your ears.

"I, uh, I don’t know. Does-Does it really matter?" You reply, trying to keep your voice casual. But you can feel yourself start to fidget with your fingers nervously.

Buck watches you for a moment, his eyes scanning over your face. His hand moves, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch is gentle, his fingers tracing lightly along your cheek.

"Yeah, it matters." He says, his voice soft. "It matters because all these dates are doing is making you miserable. I hate seeing you like this."

Your breath catches in your chest as his fingers lightly trail along your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel your self-control slipping, your heart and mind warring with each other. You want to lean into his touch, but at the same time, you know you need to keep your distance.

"It’s fine, Buck. I promise." You manage to say, but the shakiness in your voice betrays your words.

Buck’s hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin. His eyes are still fixed on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"No, it's not." He says firmly. "You're not fine. You’re miserable. I mean, you're going on these dates like some kind of punishment, like you think you need to suffer through it for some reason."

He moves even closer to you, so close that you can just barely feel his breath fan against your skin.

His words strike a nerve in you, because you know he’s right. You’ve been using these dates to try and punish yourself, to try and ignore your feelings for Buck. Now he’s calling you out on it, and it’s making it hard for you to think straight.

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You’re so weak for him, it’s pathetic.

Buck’s hand moves from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up slightly, making you look at him. Your eyes lock with his, your heart racing at his proximity. His gaze is intense like he’s searching for something in your eyes.

"I don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself." He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your jawline. "You deserve better than these idiots you keep going on dates with. You deserve someone who actually cares about you."

Your breath catches in your chest as he speaks, your heart clenching at his words. You know he's right, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. You try to deflect, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Yeah? And who do you have in mind for me then?" You half-joke, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Buck’s thumb stops moving, his gaze steady and unwavering. His other hand moves to your hip, his fingers gripping you gently through the fabric of your dress

"Me." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widen in shock at his words, your mind reeling. You’re speechless, unable to believe what he’s saying. Is he being serious?

You take a shaky breath, trying to form a response but struggle to find the words. Buck’s hand on your hip tightens slightly, pulling you closer to him.

“You…you do?” You ask, your voice a little breathless.

Buck nods, and his grip on your hip tightens even more, pulling you flush against his body. You can feel his heart beating fast, mirroring your own. He’s so close to you that you can see the tiniest flecks of green in his blue eyes; you can’t help but feel compelled to touch his birthmark.

"Yeah.” He says firmly, his voice rough and low. “I do. I want you so bad it’s been driving me insane.”

Your mind is swirling, your body reacting to his every touch and word. You should be pushing him away, shoving him back, and telling him to snap out of it. This is a terrible idea, bound to end in disaster. You could lose your friendship, and your job if things go bad. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

"God Buck, me too.” You murmur, your hand moving to clutch at his waist, your fingers gripping the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

Buck lets out a low groan at your words. Your confession is like a spark, igniting a fire within him. He leans even closer until there’s barely an inch of space left between your bodies.

"You have no idea how bad I want you.” He says, his voice practically growling. “I want to kiss every inch of you, make you forget your own name.”

“Then do it.” You whisper, your voice is a little shaky but so filled with desire it’s undeniable. You want this, you want him.

You. Need. Buck.

Buck doesn’t hesitate, his lips crashing down against yours in a heated kiss. His hand in your hair tightens, angling your head back to give him better access to your mouth. His other hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you into him.

The kiss is intense, desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

You let out a muffled moan, your hand moving to grasp his neck; clinging to him like a lifeline. Your body feels like it’s been set on fire, every inch of you burning with need and desire for him. You can’t get enough, you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You open your mouth to him, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, your own tongue meeting his in a frenzied dance. You can feel yourself falling apart, losing yourself in the intensity of his touch, of his kiss.

Buck’s hands move to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he lifts you up, easily settling you on his lap so youre straddling him. You move your hips, grinding yourself down onto him, his body reacting involuntarily to the pressure. You can feel his hardness press against your core, it sends a throb of need throughout your entire body.

Gasping, Buck breaks the kiss before moving his lips to your neck; his mouth hot and demanding against your skin.

“You…drive me…crazy.” He mutters between kisses, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. Hishands slide under the lacy hem of your dress, his fingers burning hot against your skin as they trace patterns along your sides. You arch into his touch.

“You’re all I can think about. Every day.” He continues, his voice gravelly with lust. “God, even when we’re at work.”

You let out a gasp as his tongue swirls over your skin, your fingers tangling in his curly, blonde hair. His words make your heart pound even faster.

You press yourself against Buck, your hips rolling involuntarily against his, seeking more of that delicious friction. You can feel him growing harder underneath you, only making you ache for more.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve had to go to the bathroom to get myself under control,” Buck admits, his voice rumbles against your skin. He moves his hands lower, cupping your ass and grinding you down onto him. His mouth moves lower, his teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone, his thumb moving over your hip bone, tracing the outline of your underwear.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back as he works his mouth down your neck and across your chest. His touch is like gasoline on an already out-of-control fire, and you can feel yourself losing more and more control.

“Buck…” You breathe out, his name a plea and a prayer all in one.

Buck moans at the sound, his hands moving to your hips again, holding you still against him. His mouth moves back up to your neck, his teeth and lips roaming over your skin.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so long.” He mutters, his voice rough and strained. “You keep coming to me after those stupid dates, all dressed up in these pretty dresses. Do you have any idea what it does to me?”

The mental image of him watching you from across the station, seeing you all dolled up for these dates and not being able to do anything about it, watching as you leave with another man, it makes your stomach clench. You wonder how many times he's sat there, fighting the urge to pull you into his lap, to kiss you senselessly and show everyone that you’re his.

You let out a pathetic whine, the thought making you throb with need.

Buck leans back slightly, his eyes raking over your disheveled form. You’re panting heavily, your (e/c) eyes dark with desire, lips swollen from his kisses. You’re a mess, and it makes him feel a sense of satisfaction that he’s the one who’s made you this way.

“God, look at you.” He murmurs, his hands pushing up your dress, his fingers tracing over your bare thighs. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

You shiver as his hands move higher, brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You can feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, your underwear getting more and more damp at his touch. You want him, you need him so badly that it’s starting to become painful.

“Buck please,” You pant out, your voice pleading. “I need you…I need you so bad.”

Buck’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on your thighs faltering momentarily. He can see the desperation in your eyes, the need written all over your face.

“You’ve got me.” He says, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve always had me…just didn’t know it.”

Your heart clenches at his words, your mind warring with your body. Everything about this is a bad idea, you’re playing with fire here. But at this moment, with his hands on you, his body under yours, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Prove it. Show me I’m yours, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes flash at your challenge, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. He moves without warning, standing up and easily lifting you with him. Your legs automatically wrap around his waist, and your arms cling to his shoulders. Spinning around, he starts the ascent to his loft bedroom.

You cling to him as he moves through the apartment, his hands holding you tightly, supporting your weight without any effort. You bury your face in his neck, leaving teasing kisses along his skin, your tongue and teeth nipping at his pulse point. You can feel every muscle in his body as he moves, your hands roaming across his back and shoulders, your fingernails scraping gently over his skin.

As you reach the top of the stairs, he walks you over to the edge of the bed and sets you down on the soft comforter.

“(y/n)…” He mutters, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you. Your hair is tangled and messy, your chest heaving as you breathe heavily, your dress pooled up around your thighs, exposing your (s/c) skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You smirk up at him, a feeling of power rushing through you at the way he’s looking at you. You lay back slowly, arching your back and letting the skirt of your dress ride up higher. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Pretty good way to go though, huh?” You tease lightly.

You don’t know how, but Buck’s eyes darken even more, the sight of you on his bed—practically inviting him to take you—pushes him over the edge.

“You’re such a tease.” He mutters, moving closer to you as his hands go to the waistband of his sweats.

You let out a small gasp as he starts to lower his sweatpants, the sight of him in nothing but low-hanging boxer briefs makes your mouth water. You can see the desire and hunger in his eyes, the fact that he wants you so badly sending a thrill of pleasure through you.

“Only for you, Buckley.”

Buck moves onto the bed, caging you in with his body, his hands on either side of your head.

“Better be.” He grins, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw to your ear. His teeth nip at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

He moves lower, his lips finding your neck again, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin there, leaving a mark you know you’ll struggle to hide the next day.

You can feel your hands starting to shake as the ache between your legs grows and your mind gets fuzzy. You arch up into him, your body seeking more of his touch, more of his attention.

“Buck—need you to touch me.” You pant, your voice needy and desperate

Buck groans at your words, his hands sliding lower down your body, gliding over your stomach and then lower until they’re at the edge of your dress.

“Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument. You instantly comply, lifting your hips off the bed, allowing him to slide your dress higher up your body.

With a quick tug, Buck pulls the dress up over your body and tosses it to the side. He takes a moment to admire you, trailing his eyes over every inch of you.

You’re laying there in just your (f/c) bra and panties, your legs slightly parted, your chest rising and falling quickly as you breathe through the need coursing through your body.

He leans back down over you, his hands and mouth immediately going to work. His mouth trails wet kisses down your torso and across your stomach, his fingers tracing lightly over your skin. You can’t help but whimper as he moves, your body responding to every touch, every graze of his lips against your skin.

His moves lower, just barely brushing the edge of your panties. You let out a gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body arches into his touch.

You feel Buck’s smile against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you still. He loves seeing you like this, lost in pleasure and need, your body responding to his every move. He moves his mouth lower, his tongue tracing over the thin, damp fabric of your panties.

“B-Buck!” Your voice cracks

“You’re so damn sensitive,” Buck mutters, his fingers slowly tugging at the edge of your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them off to the side.

You clasp a hand over your mouth as you hold back a whine as you feel his hot breath fan against your soaked center.

Buck gently nips at the inside of your thigh, leaving small marks on your sensitive skin. He moves one of his hands to rest on your knee, keeping you spread open.

“It’s okay, (y/n).” Buck says, his voice full of desire. “Let me hear you, let me hear what I do to you.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is pressed against your soaking folds.

You let out a high-pitched moan, your hands automatically digging into his scalp, your fingers gripping his curly blonde locks. His tongue is skilled, his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“F-fuckin’ dick!” You manage to gasp out, your words quickly turning into broken moans and gasps as he continues his assault

Buck doesn’t stop, his tongue working you over, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at you in all the right places. He loves the way you taste, and the sound of your moans. But he’s greedy, and he wants more.

He slides his hand from your knee to your core, one of his calloused fingers gently teasing at your entrance.

Your body is buzzing with pleasure and your mind is fogged with need. The feeling of his finger at your entrance, teasing and tantalizing is almost too much.

“O-Oh god, Buck…please…don’t stop!” You desperately gasp out, feeling the coil inside you building.

Buck groans against you, sending vibrations straight to your core, “You’re so damn wet.”

“All for you—Fuck!”

Buck practically groans with need at your words. He gently pushes one of his fingers into you, the slide easy due to your arousal. You throw your head back from the pleasure.

“You’re like heaven, baby.” Buck mumbles, his voice filled with awe as his finger continues to move, gently stretching you in preparation for more. “Like an angel…My pretty, perfect angel.”

You can’t respond, your words are caught in your throat, replaced by gasps and moans as Buck continues to work you. He adds another finger, scissoring them gently, the sensation making your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at me.” Buck commands, “Open your eyes, (y/n). Let me see you.”

With a great amount of effort, you force your eyes open, to meet his gaze. The sight before you is one that’ll be engraved into your memory forever.

Buck’s hair is a mess from your fingers running through it, his cheeks flushed, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, eyes dark with lust and possessiveness that makes your skin flush with goosebumps. He looks wild, untamed, and yet he’s completely focused on you, on giving you pleasure.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He whispers, his fingers curving slightly, the way that makes you see stars. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you forget your own name, how about that?”

“Yes, please!” You gasp, your words coming out needy and desperate. “Please, Buck, please. I need you-need you so bad.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulls his fingers from you, your walls fluttering around nothing. He doesn’t leave you waiting for long, shifting to kneel on the bed, his hands go to the edge of his underwear.

You watch, breathless and eager, as he slowly pushes down his boxer briefs, freeing his aching cock. The tip is red and dripping; you swear that you feel your mouth water.

“You see what you do to me? See what you caused?” Buck’s voice is rough, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

You run your eyes up and down his body, taking in the sight in front of you, the way his body is practically trembling, desperate for you. You lick your lips, your thoughts swarming with things that would make a sailor blush with shame.

“Please, Buck.”

He looks down at you, his eyes raking over your body, as he takes in the sight. You sound so needy, so desperate. He leans over you, his hands on either side of your head.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice a low, teasing whisper.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Fuck. Me.”

Buck lets a curse slip from his lips as he captures yours in a hungry, rough kiss. One hand grasps your hip, while the other hand drifts to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he lines himself up at your entrance. Breaking the kiss, he lets his forehead rest against yours.

His eyes lock with yours, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, your hands running down his arms.

“Do it, Buck.” You say, your voice is desperate and whiny. “Please.”

Buck lets out a low moan at your voice, his body trembling from the effort of holding himself back. He can’t take it anymore, he needs you, needs to feel you around him, needs to taste you.

He slowly pushes into you, going as slowly as he can manage, relishing in the way your walls flutter against his member.

You let out a gasp, your hands tightening around his wrists, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel him fill you, stretch you in the best way possible. There’s a slight burn, but you welcome it as you shakily exhale.

“A-Ah...” Buck moans, his voice strained as his hands grip you tighter, burying himself fully inside you. His head drops to rest in the crease of your neck. “You feel… you feel so good—god, so warm.”

You let out a moan as he bottoms out, your mind lost in the pleasure of him filling you so perfectly. You want to tell him how good it feels, but words are lost amongst the fog in your mind.

Buck presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips feeling like fire against your skin. His hand leaves your hip and moves to grip yours, his fingers carefully intertwining with yours. Using his other hand he gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him

“Look at me, baby.” He mutters against your skin, “I wanna see your face. I wanna see how good I make you feel. Can you do that for me?”

You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The way he’s looking at you makes your heart swell; his eyes are filled with such adoration, such love.

Buck lets out a pleased noise, “That’s it, so good for me. Look so pretty when you’re like this…all flushed and trembling, just from my touch.”

He gives a shallow, experimental thrust, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as an electric feeling shoots through your body.

He moans against your skin, the sound making the hairs on your neck stand up. He moves again, this time pulling out slightly before slowly pushing back into you. You gasp again, your hands grab at his shoulder; your nails breaking the skin.

He sets up a steady pace, pulling out and then pushing back in with slow, steady movements.

Each moan and gasp, each twitch of your brow or hitch in your breath, he takes it in, and stores it away. He shifts his hips slightly, changing the angle, and a guttural, desperate moan tumbles from your lips.

Buck lets out a taunting chuckle, “Did I find a sensitive spot, baby?” He asks, his voice teasing and gruff against your ear.

You can’t find it in you to respond, completely blissed out from the pleasure Buck is giving you. Your words catch in your throat, replaced by a series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’ as he continuously slams into you.

His pace quickens as his breath comes out in short pants, his hand gripping yours just a little bit tighter.

“F-Fuck…Who do you want?”

“You. Only you, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes close for a moment, a shudder raking through his body at your words. He lets out another moan, his head falling forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder as he untangles his hand from yours. Hastily he brings it down, harshly rubbing it against your sensitive bud.

The sudden change in stimuli makes your eyes roll back, the pleasure and heat reaching a breaking point.

“B-Buck, I’m not gonna—”

“I know, baby, I know.” He whines, his own voice wavering. “I want to feel you cum around me. C’mon, cum for me.”

That’s all it takes, the feeling of him inside you, the sound of his voice, the sensation of his hands on you against you—your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. Your entire body tenses, a broken moan falling from your lips as your back arches against Buck’s sweaty figure.

Buck groans as he feels you cum, your walls clenching around him tightly. His hips stutter, losing their steady rhythm as he pulls out and starts pumping himself over your stomach.

“Ngh—shit!” Buck gasps suddenly as he feels your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, taking over for him.

“(y-y/n), you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” You look up at him with a small, exhausted smile on your lips as you continue to leisurely pump him at your own pace.

Buck lets out a high-pitched whine, his hands gripping onto you tighter, “M-mm’ so close.”

“Then come for me, Evan.”

Buck lets out a desperate noise, the sound of his real name falling from your lips being his final breaking point.

“(y-y/n)—”

You keep stroking him through his orgasm, watching as his body shivers from the overstimulation. Slowly, Buck’s flushed face lifts from your shoulder, his breaths leaving his lips in heavy pants, the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. His blue eyes meet your gaze, they’re hazy and unfocused.

“God, I love you.” He mutters, his voice a little hoarse, but still filled with an amount of tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

You bring your clean hand up to his face, running it through his messy, tangled hair, your fingernails gently massaging his scalp “I love you too.”

Buck lets out a content hum, pressing a few soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose—Anywhere he can reach without having to pull his body away from you.

You laugh softly at his affection, your chest filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling, a smile resting on your lips. You feel…at ease.

Happy.

Safe.

Buck slowly pulls away, just enough to move off your body and lay next to you. He instantly pulls you against his chest, one arm around your shoulders, cradling you against him. He sighs contentedly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

You rest your head against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat under your ear grounding and soothing. Your eyes slowly close, your exhaustion finally catching up to you. You snuggle closer to Buck, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

Buck chuckles as he hears you yawn. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You give a tiny hum, the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hand on your back making your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Sleep starts to overtake you, but not before you mutter out one final sentence.

“I love you, Buck.”

Buck’s heart warms at your words. He pulls you even closer to him, relishing the feeling of having you this close. He presses a kiss to the top of your head again, his voice soft and gentle as he speaks.

“I love you too, (y/n). More than anything.”

[myorestes]

picture this: 9x01 opening with buck and eddie at home. they are being sickeningly domestic. buck is cooking, eddie is leaning on the countertop next to him, sampling the food while buck tries to whack his hand away. they are laughing together, heart eyes galore. it's easy to see they are living in a home full of love. chris yells to ask if dinner is almost ready, and eddie yells back, one second! then he leans in to kiss buck like it is the most natural thing in the world when bam! eddie's eyes open, and he wakes up in a cold sweat. cue the 9-1-1 title card

[myorestes]

Happy pride month to him specifically

[myorestes]

Cowboy Buddie AU!!🐎🌵☀️

[myorestes]

Simon Elroy x Afab! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (receiving) Overstimulation, Dacrophilia.

(Fuck I did it again. It was just supposed to be headcanons I swear 🥲 whelp to late now. Enjoy the mini one-shot)

I'm the wise words of @whoopsyeahokay he's a ✨giver✨ (thx for the input by the way. I was struggling to find out how to write this)

I feel like he's the type to be nervous at first. Not wanting to make the wrong move in fear of scaring you off. He's also like this in non-sexual aspects of your relationship but that's for another time.

You have to take things slow with him, let him know that you're not going anywhere. Poor boy has slight abandonment issues.

Sweet little makeout sessions behind the bleachers or in the locker rooms while skipping gym that leave him going to his next class with an obvious tint in his pants that he knows his friends are gonna tease him about.

Cherry hot kisses in your car when you were just supposed to be giving him a ride home from school that somehow moved from your lips to your neck, red marks forming that will soon turn purple.

Innocent young romance that keeps teetering on the edge of what you both so desperately want but don't know how to start. Until you do.

It was late, you were dropping Simon off after a football game Clair had dragged you to when he asked if you wanted to come in and re-watch terrifier with him. Nothing out of the ordinary just you, your boyfriend, and a small late night movie date.

So how the hell did you get here? Simon between your thighs, tears rolling down your cheeks after cumming for the upteenth time. Blame Simon for having wandering hands.

It wasn't entirely his fault, you walked out in that incredibly low cut shirt that he couldn't take his eyes off the entire game. Sometimes he wondered if you did shit like that on purpose.

It drove him insane watching you flant around like nothing was wrong. Jumping up and down, cheering when The Split River Bandits scored, tits bouncing with every move. He needed you, he needed you more than anything. More so he needed to make you feel the same kind of mind melting grip you had on him.

And oh boy did he do that. With something as simple as his tongue. Delicate slow movements around your sensitive overstimulated clit, lapping over and over and over again. Not giving you a single second to think about anything other than him and the way he's making your eyes roll back.

Nothing but pure bliss. The sound of your broken half whimper half sobs drowning out the tv playing in the background. In that moment it was just the two of you in the world, your brain turning to mush, forgetting everything you've ever known outside of Simons living room.

You danced in the line of insanity, not knowing if you could handle another orgasm but the thought of pushing him away made you want to scream. It was all too much. You felt your mind blanking, that perfect place of ecstasy so close, taunting you.

You were broken. This sweet precious boy that was always so gentle, broke you and it was the most amazing thing you've ever felt.

Hips grinding up into his face, hands gripping the soft cushion around you, mind absolutely destroyed and in one foul movement you felt absolute heaven crash over you. A deadly mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless.

You laid there, shaking, tears streaming down your face as you tried to regain your composer. After a few beats of silence you felt Simon pull away, body creeping up to lay next to yours as he propped himself up on his elbow.

You took a few deep breaths before looking at him, seeing the lower half of his face drenched and the biggest ear to ear smile. "How'd I do?"

(I fear I ate and so did Simon apparently... Im so not funny 😭)

[myorestes]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[myorestes]

I Adore You.

Summary ~ You and Joel had been separated for 10 years and can't keep your hands off him when you see each other again.

WARNINGS ! ~ Female!Reader | Oral {F} | PiV | Touch starved reader and Joel | Reader ain't had sex in 10 years poor girl | makeout | Joel being sappy | Cowgirl position {Agent Whiskey Reference?} | Joel dirty talking

Joel miller was something else. You couldn't get enough of his scruffy beard, dark eyes and brooding face.

You were nothing but his neighbour.

Well, not anymore. After a glass of wine or two you were confessing how you had always found him attractive, and the fantasies that had conjured in your mind.

That's how you found yourself tangled with him in the sheets. And that wouldn't be the first.

You started 'officially' dating about a week after that.

And then four years of pure bliss. His daughter loved you, and you loved her. Everything felt so right.

But then the outbreak hit. Joel was out, had to pick Tommy up. So you stayed back to make sure that Sarah wasn't home alone.

And everything went to hell.

Sarah was shot, you and Joel got split up. You didn't know what the fuck you were gonna do.

Fast forward around ten years and you live in a bit of a society. Nothing glamorous for sure, but it was home.

You had a little flower shop, nothing fancy, more of a shack with a painted sign.

People thought you were crazy for it. But you saw it as an opportunity for other people. You wanted people to still be able to find love. Something that was cruelly taken from you.

And people loved it, you had multiple people a day coming in to buy flowers from you to give to another person in the society; it always warmed your heart.

You hadn't fucked anyone since Joel. You were still hopelessly in love with him. But there had been plenty of nights with your hand down your pants imagining your fingers were his.

'Y/N! Y/N! Guess what!' Gloria said skipping over to your little shop (shack).

'What's up?' you asked giving a bouquet of tulips to a customer.

'Newcomers! We haven't had some in months! And, and, I heard they're moving next door to you! They said they weren't staying long but oh my god!' Gloria said practically bouncing off the walls.

You smiled at her, she was always so full of energy.

'What're their names?'

'I don't know, I only saw them. Good God the guy was hot though. Older than us by a good few years but Jesus I would've jumped his bones if I had the chance' Gloria said leaning against the shack.

You just laughed, cutting the end of stems off some roses.

'I'll make sure to visit them this afternoon and try and set you up' you giggled.

Then, Gloria was off. Practically skipping with excitement.

You finally got home for the day, holding a pot with a sunflower in it.

You walked up to the door next to yours, the unoccupied one that is, and knocked on the door.

It swung open a few seconds later, a girl standing before you, young, maybe 14-15?

'Uh hi' she said skeptically.

'Hi, I'm your new neighbour I guess, I bought a little house warming present' you said extending the flowerpot towards her.

Thankfully she smiled and invited you in for coffee.

'How long you been here?' The girl, Ellie, asked.

'Maybe five years? I can barely remember' you replied, coffee mug in hand and standing near the fridge. 'You here with your dad?' you continue.

'Something like that, family but not family' Ellie shrugged, washing her now empty coffee. 'He's not here right now, should be back soon though'

You both heard the door open, 'speak of the devil' she said, placing the cup down on the busted drying rack.

You didn't peak around the corner of the wall, blocking your view to the front door. Not wanting to seem desperate to meet the guy.

You heard heavy footsteps on the old wood floors, and then you saw the figure come around the corner.

You dropped your mug, it shattering to the ground. Joel.

Joel's eyes widened as soon as he saw you 'sweetheart' he said breathlessly.

you were frozen. Tears streaming down your face.

'Do you guys know each other?' Ellie asked, breaking the silence.

Joel nodded slightly, still just as shocked as you were.

'I'm gonna go look around, give you guys some space' Ellie said walking out the kitchen and out the door.

As soon as you heard it shut, Joel strode forward and enveloped you in a bear crushing hug. You cried silently into his shoulder.

'I know baby, it's okay' he whispered into your hair.

You looked up at him, stroking the scruffy beard you loved so much.

He smiled down at you, tears flooding his eyes. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.

Immediately you moaned into his mouth, missing how whenever his lips were on yours, all your senses were full of him.

Joel started moving you, directing you towards to bedroom.

He pushed you gently down onto the (crappy) mattress. And started kissing down your jawline and neck.

You grabbed at his shirt and lifted it off him; allowing him to do the same to you.

'Fuck I missed you' he moaned, leaning down to mouth at your bra clad breasts.

God you missed his voice when he gets like this, it soaks your panties and causes you to arch your back slightly.

Joel moves down and unbuttons your jeans, stripping them off your legs.

'Fuck, you've soaked through your panties darlin''.

you mewled at his words, bucking your hips up to his face; he pulled your panties off and you watched as he licked his lips, staring at your glistening cunt.

He leans forward and licks a broad stripe up your slit; moaning at the taste as you groan and buck your hips.

'Fuck me, nearly forgot how good you tasted baby doll'

your hips bucked up into Joel's face, his strong forearm coming to pin your hips down.

He continued to devour you, licking and sucking on your cunt.

Jesus Christ you missed this; his tongue feels like a gift from God.

Your hands reached down and into Joel's messy hair. tugging on it softly.

'You can pull harder than that baby, I know you can' Joel smiled at you before diving back into your cunt.

You then felt two thick fingers plunge into your hole. Your back arches off the bed and you pull Joel's face further into you.

'Joel-fuck! I'm gonna-ohmygod-I'm gonna cum!' you moan.

Joel doubles his efforts his fingers curling upwards into the spot that makes you see stars, triggering your orgasm almost immediately.

'Joel! Joel fuck!' you mewled as his fingers guided you through your orgasm.

You felt the mattress dip and Joel was kissing you again, you felt the bulge in his pants bump your clit and you gasped against his mouth.

You mustered all the strength you could and rolled the two of you over; you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room. You unbuckled Joel's belt and he lifted his hips so you could pull them off.

You practically ripped off Joel's boxers and spat in your hand; you grasped his cock and stroked it a few times before hovering over it.

You aligned your cunt with his cock and sunk down slowly. Moaning out at the pleasurable sting the stretch gave you.

Joel groaned underneath you, almost a growl. His hands digging into your hips; surely leaving crescent shaped marks in their wake.

'You're so tight holy shit' Joel said, resisting the urge to buck his hips into you.

'Haven't-fuck, haven't slept with anyone since you' you moaned, starting to move on his cock.

'Oh fuck, I fucking adore you' he moaned.

You lifted your hips, slamming them back down; Joel almost whimpering.

You started bouncing hard on his cock and he rutted his hips up into you as you sank down each time.

Your head was thrown back and your cunt was getting wetter with each moan Joel let out.

You loved how desperate he sounded underneath you. Clearly missing this as much as you. Maybe even more.

You reached down to rub at your clit, before Joel slapped your hand away; and just as you were going to whine he started rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You moaned and your cunt squeezed around Joel's cock and he thrusted upwards into you.

'I'm so close baby' Joel moaned; you nodded, nearly coming just from his voice.

Your cunt fluttered around Joel's dick as your orgasm came over you.

'That's it honey, fucking milk my cock' Joel said as your rode him through your orgasm.

He thrusted up into you a few more times before you felt his come spill inside of you and drip down your thighs.

You caught your breath momentarily before climbing off him, wincing at the slight overstimulation.

You went to lay next to him and he pulled the covers over the two of you.

Your head was rested on his chest, and you listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart; before he spoke, 'I meant what I said'

'hm?'

'I adore you'

HI BOZOS!!! This ones a bit short again but goodness gracious the chokehold that Pedro Pascal has over me. Anyway hoped you like ittt

[myorestes]

Peppermint Kisses

word count: 10.5k

summary: being in charge of a christmas party at the museum has you worked up all week, yet was also the only thing you looked forward to to finally unwind. what you don’t realize is that the dress you’re wearing is winding others up, specifically, your shy, soft-spoken boss, steven grant.

authors note and warnings: steven/f!reader. smut, build up, porn WITH plot, nsfw as fuck, drunk sex (both parties drunk and consent enthusiastically), steven eats you out, reader with female reproductive parts, one tiny fleabag reference if you squint. reader has mild self-image issues but they are only mentioned for like a second, mild age gap - reader in grad school, obvs i dont condone relationships with power dynamics this is just a fanfic. don’t fuck your boss please. enjoy

_________________________________________

the clock on the cream-colored wall hits six pm as you pin up last of the holiday decorations. faint christmas music dwindles in the room with you quietly humming along. the cold museum air hits the back of your bare thighs as you walk briskly across the room to your next task as the assistant to the head of the egyptology department.

:readmore:

you remember every detail about your job interview for the museum. you never wanted to work in egyptology yet you got in with just one interview. the job application you sent to the museum was a last resort. most jobs on your campus were taken, and you were starting to run low on funds.

until you saw a crumpled up "help wanted" ad in one of your history elective classes. even as a business major you had to take electives as part of your program; you never understood why, and you hated it. but that day, it paid off.

you remember exactly what you wore: a white satin button-up with a black pencil skirt and black flats. hair tied back and a practiced smile plastered on your face. you wore your lucky gold rings and a thin silver necklace with a crescent moon charm.

the air in the interview room deliciously smelled of old books and coffee as does your current office. you remember being characteristically nervous and bumping your leg against the cedar wooden table repeatedly before taking a few deep breaths as you heard voices outside the room. you practiced your greeting a few times before the door opened softly, revealing a man.

you were positive it was a woman on the phone who answered your call for the help wanted ad. you stupidly assumed it was going to be her who was taking your interview, and you mentally kicked yourself for it. you didn't like talking to men. they would usually say something extremely offensive, and you would have to act like they didn't just ruin your day. you never had boyfriends for the same reason either; they were never worth it.

especially when girls were an option.

you eyed the man at the door up and down before rising from your chair as he approached you with an extended hand.

“oh i quite like your necklace charm,” was his first observation. he pointed hesitantly at your neck, which then felt more than exposed, to solve the puzzled look on your face. the confusion in your eyes vanished, realizing he was referring to the dainty piece of jewelry resting prettily against your collarbones.

you resolved the compliment with a short thanks as your fingers mindlessly traced your pendant. you took a moment away from your anxiety to process the seemingly timid man in front of you.

dark, curly locks fell gently on one side of his face. his slightly unshaven salt and peppery jaw gave his seemingly soft look some edge. he was well in his thirties, eyebags almost adorning his tender eyes, complimenting the black turtleneck and a khaki-colored jacket and pants. his physique shone through the tight material of his turtleneck yet you tried not to stare. his doe-like eyes were almost frighteningly deep, and you made a mental note not to look at them too much as they seemed to slowly wipe every worry from your brain.

even the fact that you were about to interview for your first-ever job, apparently.

“the name’s steven grant. how do you do?” he broke your train of thought, making you realize that his extended hand from earlier was still up, waiting for you to reciprocate.

you introduced yourself, stuttering over your words but slowly garnering confidence as the conversation went from standing awkwardly by the door of the office to the cedar wood table your knee bumped against, earlier.

“i’m the head of the egyptology department here at the museum. believe it or not, i used to work at the gift shop here!” he exclaimed with a sweet smile. you could not, for the sake of your life, stop analyzing his features. you wondered if you looked weird simply staring at him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he blabbered on about his duties as the head of one of the most famous exhibits at the museum. you listened intently with frequent nods of acknowledgment and bursts of smiles at his dad-jokes, seeming to give steven the confidence to continue with his information.

steven grant came off as a soft-spoken man. one that could go on for days about his vast knowledge of egyptian mythology; each story more fascinating to him than the other. you could tell he loved his job by the way his eyes sparked up mentioning the numerous epics and deities he knew about. either accentuating stories or whispering them like they were secrets shared only between him and the other person in the room, he had you wishing you could listen to his deep, honey-like voice in the mornings on your way to your boring accounting lectures, or while you cook dinner alone in your apartment with your roommate always out.

steven, unfortunately, paused his info dump, however much you enjoyed it. his gaze flipped through the pages in your resume, his - pretty- pink lips pouting downward in appreciation of the content on the pages you hurriedly printed out the night before.

you bit your bottom lip in anticipation of his opinion. you didn’t catch steven’s glance shift to your lips momentarily as your eyes were glued on his - pretty - fingers holding the papers.

fingers that looked calloused, rough, experienced-

“so you are a grad student, is that correct?” the man questioned, giving your thoughts a well-needed break as he finally shut your resume. you took a deep breath in, picking up the scent of coffee and cologne, as you prepped an answer in your head.

“that is correct. i have a bachelor’s in business administration, and i am currently working towards an accounting specialization. i applied here because i really do admire art, and i thought i could help with some of the clerical work. i am good with numbers… and i could use the money,” you trailed off, realizing how desperate you sounded toward the end. it was the truth, even if that wasn’t what you should have said at the moment.

you noticed steven’s soft eyes widen momentarily before his face cracked into a small grin, “i admire your honesty. i’m going to be completely honest with you… i think you are overqualified even if you don't care a bit about the art,” he stated, with a chuckle.

you felt your heart jump at the honest compliment from him. flashing an uncontrollable grin at the man having heard words of praise, you sat up straighter, feeling your heartbeat slow down a bit. you noticed steven pause to analyze you before moving forward with your interview.

“wait, stev-, uh, mr. grant-”

“steven,” he insisted. okay, then.

“steven,” you stated, his name feeling like a grave secret as it rolled off your tongue, “can i ask you; how many applicants are there?”

“only two others. although you shouldn’t worry about them. they are freshmen undergrads. that’s what i get for forgetting to include an age range in the help wanted ad, buggers, i really am bloody forgetful,” he provided you with well-needed assurance, trailing off into rhetorical comments about himself.

the tension in the air was thick. neither of you knew why, but clearing throats or shifting weights suddenly did not seem enough to cope with it anymore even when steven was still talking. the man in front of you went on another rant of his about how he should invest some sticky notes, or learn how to work the reminder app on his phone so he could get organized. usually, you would find it annoying when men talked about themselves too much, but coupled with his british accent that you found adorable, you let him speak with a smile on your face.

it was not ingenuine either. you wished you could sit there for hours listening to him. the way he used his hands to converse, the way he would nod frantically to really drive his point home: it was a delight watching him.

unfortunately for you, your eyes ended up on the clock on his desk, realizing that you had a class in half an hour on the other side of town. hating that you had to interrupt the seemingly sweet man, you found a gap in his monologue and butted in.

“so… does that mean i… get the job?” you asked, finally, hope dripping at the end of your sentence.

you saw realization wash over steven’s face as he processed just how long he went on talking about miscellaneous things in a job interview.

“oh i went off didn’t i, if i do it again, just tell me to shut up, i won’t take offense to it,” he informed, genuinely sorry that he took up your time. he bunched up your resume and handed it back to you to answered your question,“well, i can’t guarantee you will start work as soon as tomorrow… but yes, you do have a job,” he grinned, “and you already have a task.”

furrowing your brows, you tilted your head, asking him to elaborate. he followed your cue, “since we are nearing christmas and the museum visits are expected to increase significantly, all pre-existing employees have their hands full… and we need someone to arrange the office christmas party.”

your eyes widened as you felt numerous gears in your head turn at the same time, clashing and burning. “uh… i expected something more related to finances, like handling cash receipts and whatnot.”

“yeah, unfortunately, most of those jobs are already spoken for. you will actually be assisting me on my daily duties around the office and whatnot.” he spoke through his soft, often apologetic, smile, mirroring you, which would have come off as rude if anybody else said it, but something about steven sugarcoated every single breath he took.

as you processed the information with an involuntary gulp and repetitive nods, you stared at the task list that steven had already printed out for you.

millions of worries flooded your head as your grip on the task sheet grew tighter. although, looking up from the paper to thank steven as you were about to take your leave, you found yourself hooked onto his eyes again. the kind, deep, understanding eyes that traced your figure the moment they saw you. you felt your nerves ease up as you let the paper in your hand free from your death grip.

the job description was less than ideal and completely different than the one you had assumed and prepared yourself for; but it is what you had to work with.

and you had steven to thank for saving your sorry ass.

“thank you, steven,” you sighed in relief, “really, i owe you one.”

you weren’t sure whether you saw steven’s eyes glint momentarily, but you did flash your most genuine grin and take your leave. you could feel steven’s gaze trailing your figure as you walked out of his cozy office and closed the door behind you.

recounting the interview always left an odd feeling brewing in your gut. nervousness. embarrassment. tension.

heat.

you convinced yourself that you were being dramatic. still, you would find yourself up late at night replaying your interaction with the man who had caught your eye. what the hell was so special about him anyway?

at the end of the day, you were thankful that you even received a job at that museum albeit the people there rarely talked to you, usually having their noses buried in books and not knowing what the hell went on outside their own bubble.

the day of the christmas party marked the end of your first month working the job. you celebrated that morning with a chocolate croissant from your local cafe, crumbs of which stuck to the new lipstick you also bought yourself to admittedly catch steven’s attention. the same crumbs that steven pointed out hesitantly this morning, his gaze flickering to your lips before jerking his head away in urgency and offering you a kleenex.

needless to say, you were mildly infatuated with your boss.

you reminisce how his face lit up when you walked into his office on your first day, five minutes before your shift started. it seemed like he did not have many visitors; his job seemed lonely. managing a whole department alone up until now seemed like an impossible task. one that would break steven grant’s already unconfident posture.

when there weren't museum visitors to make fun of, you would find yourself gaping at your boss through the glass window separating his office from your open workspace. you would notice how his eyes would stay glued onto the bright computer screen on his desk, going through tens of pages of material about new discoveries within minutes as he typed up the information loudly on his old keyboard.

you noticed how his eyes would often squint hard at the screen trying to make out the fine print text, making him look like a grandpa trying to navigate technology. a smile would tug at your lips observing him throughout the day as you patched through calls for him and brainstormed what to work on for the upcoming christmas party.

he would often call you in his office, yet always apologize for doing so, even though it was literally part of your job description. you were a diligent note-taker, always understanding the task steven assigned you. as much as you hated having to come to work, you loved to work for him: a kind, gentle giant that never bothered you, praised your work whenever he could, complimented your necklace (the same one with the crescent moon) when you would be visibly frustrated with colleagues in other departments giving you hard time.

it was almost like he knew exactly what to say at any given moment. or maybe it was the fact that he was the only reason you were excited to go to work every morning.

it was definitely that.

the week leading up to the party was stressful. you had e-vites, decorations, catering, secret santa, and booze to figure out. it certainly did not help when steven reminded you about the christmas tree in the storage closet that you had the responsibility of assembling all by yourself because everyone else was suddenly so busy that they couldn’t give you five minutes of their time.

the day of the party has finally arrived. by four-thirty pm, you are done with your task list. having no clerical work left for the museum either, your eyes flicker to your bag with your party dress and makeup stuffed in.

it is officially after-hours at the museum, and you are exhausted. now that you are done with all your work, you could relax and enjoy the christmas party. you switch off the bright fluorescent light that hurts your corneas, to let the soft glow of fairy lights illuminate the room. the christmas lights wrapped around the giant tree look almost nostalgic.

you guess you never put that much thought into christmas before since your parents always did the work for you, up until your family decided to give up on holidays altogether.

it is like gaining an appreciation for food that you never really cared for only after you make it yourself. warmth spreads all over your body as you admire your work.

yeah, it is silly to gush over a christmas party, but you don’t care. between college and your work, you are finally about to catch a well-needed breath. maybe even some alcohol if you are lucky.

as you see employees rushing to the bathroom to get dressed, you hurriedly grab your bag and start toward the powder room, feeling that same odd feeling pool at the bottom of your gut.

the realization that this is your last chance for a while to get steven’s attention makes you chew on your bottom lip as you slip into one of the bathroom stalls to change.

as you unbutton your shirt, you hear the other employees chatter and laugh about office romances or who recently had plastic surgery done. you eventually tune it out until one specific ‘rumor’ filters through to you at the sound of your name.

“did you see how she looks at steven? i’m telling you that’s a fucking lawsuit right there,” you hear.

wait, what?

“yes steven, right away. whatever you say, steven!” you hear another voice mock, what you guess, is how you respond to steven. you feel your ears turn red-hot with embarrassment and that feeling from earlier grows a thousand times as intense as you finally get your blouse off your shoulders.

“i bet you ten dollars they’re gonna be fooling around tonight,” you hear the first voice.

“i bet twenty i’ll find them fucking in the storage closet.”

your knees turn to jelly. the number of emotions flipping through your head make you want to sit down somewhere, but all you can do is lean lightly on the toilet paper dispenser.

off the top of your head, you feel shame. you are embarrassed because they know exactly what was going on in your head. you wanted your boss, your superior, at a job you have been at for barely a month.

feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, you breathe in, digging your fingernails into your palms. you know it was wrong to think that way, and now that you were caught admiring your boss in the office, it felt worse.

on one hand, you are absolutely not at fault. it is normal to crush on people. having feelings for someone isn’t a crime.

on the other, it is your boss you fancied.

you shake your head as if that will permanently shake off these feelings that do nothing but spoil your mood.

you unbutton your pants quietly, not wanting to give away your presence. you hate that you heard gossip about yourself; you, who hasn't even been at the office for that long.

however, another part of you gains a strange relief.

these people find you hot enough to be with steven.

your eyes widen at the revelation as you unhook your bra. these people know absolutely nothing about you. they have only seen how you look around the office or maybe stalked your social media. just from surface-level interactions, they deemed that you were hot enough for steven to fool around with.

you fight your urge to smile before letting your arrogance take over. you would rather look at things this way than feel shame at a party you worked extremely hard for. there is no way you are going to let a piece of gossip ruin this for you.

as you slip your red, velvet dress on, you understand how risque it actually is. the straps on your shoulders are wide, yes, but they don’t help mitigate the depth of your cleavage, or how the dress hugs your body in all the right places before ending right below your ass.

will you be dress-coded? the party is taking place in the museum after all.

it is after-hours, though. you aren’t technically violating the dress-code.

stuffing your work clothes in the bag, you walk out of the stall, not caring whether you make your presence known. as expected, you see your coworkers’ eyes widen in shock as you make your way to one of the bathroom mirrors to get ready, realizing you probably heard their gossip. you feel their eyes rake your body, almost as if they were interested, but see them look away right when you turn your head toward them.

“excuse me, could you pass me a paper towel?” you feign innocence. one of the women nods frantically as she tears one off from the dispenser and hands it to you.

it is smooth sailing from then on. you don’t hear one more word from the women as you finish with your makeup and hair. a few sprays of your lavender perfume, and you are good to go.

taking one more look into the mirror, you admire the dress and the wonders it does for your body. growing up, you didn’t like yourself, to say the least. always finding flaws in your appearance, you convinced yourself you were never 'all that.'

but with time, healing, and moments like this when you feel truly gorgeous, you would cherish the love and appreciation for yourself that spread all over your body.

the sheer black stockings add a professional touch that your attire desperately needs since the mini velvet dress you wore makes you look like a christmas gift waiting to be unwrapped.

you are turned on looking at yourself; more than you would like to admit. your hips, your ass, your collarbones, your cleavage. everything about you feels perfect at the moment.

the office bet about you and steven banging in the storage room is a cherry on top of the sundae.

you take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom, feeling a sudden ambush of cold air envelop your body. you notice people’s heads turning toward you as you make your way to the party.

there is one more decoration left, after all. the christmas star.

as you enter the room, now slowly filling up with overworked employees and lighthearted chatter, you feel exposed as you realize that you are clearly overdressed compared to others. this is the first time anybody in the office is seeing you in an outfit that slutty.

and yeah, while this is deliberate on your part, you really do not feel like entertaining the feeling of being on display.

you smile at the people who gaped at you shamelessly and quickly turn to the christmas star lying on top of the leftover decorations.

your velvety dress clings uncomfortably to your body as you try to climb one of the chairs. you climb behind the tree consciously so as to not accidentally flash your whole office as you decorate.

you regret procrastinating this task until you were dressed and feel yourself lose hope as you try to reach the top of the tree.

“fuck, fuck, fuck..” you mutter to yourself as you now tiptoe in your heels to reach it. you feel your legs shake as you extend your limbs, trying not to fall.

then you feel your chair tip over.

you immediately grab hold of the wall and shut your eyes, hoping that it might actually save you from falling, but no.

what saves you was not a half-assed delusion.

two strong hands gripping your thighs steady you before you can fall to your face and embarrass yourself. the grip against the flesh of your thighs is warm, yet firm, followed by a familiar, timid voice asking, “are you okay?”

your eyes open with frightening speed as the pressure on your thighs travels straight to your core.

there he is, steven grant, your boss who you have a really inappropriate crush on, holding your thighs, while you are decked in the sluttiest dress possible for a museum office party.

your gaze shifts to the man behind and beneath you, looking up through his long lashes and curly hair, surrounding you with the same scent that has you feeling weak in the knees every morning.

“pa- pardon me, what?” you inquire, still processing the position you’re in. steven lets go of your thighs, and you let out a silent noise in protest at the loss of the warmth and span of his fingers on your body.

“i asked you if you’re okay? here let me-” he offers you his hand to step down from the chair. once again, you feel small in his grip. his palms hold yours firmly as you lean on him to jump down. the landing is rushed on your part as you try to get away from him as fast as possible, but that only brings you closer to him. your faulty landing sends you bumping straight into his wide chest.

“oops, um. i’m sorry, yeah im fine, i was just trying to put this dang ornament up there,” you try laughing the situation off as you avoid making eye contact with him. his cologne, now a little stronger with the proximity you two were in, makes you feel lightheaded.

your small hand is still resting on his as he spoke, the soft depth of his voice dripping in concern and the tiniest bit of worry disguised as anger making your heart flutter. “you should’ve asked someone else to do this. what if i wasn’t there? what if you had gotten hurt?”

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t want to delegate my work as an assistant, and i guess i spread myself too thin, i really do apologize,” you look up, your brows knitting in genuine worry that you have somehow disappointed steven grant.

“you wanna sue the museum or something?” he chuckles as soon as he notices that you were more worried about what he thinks than what would have happened if you had fallen and injured yourself.

you laugh along with him, your nerves easing up at his joke. “come on, i’ll have adam from h.r get to this, he’s a tall bloke,” steven signals you to leave your task as his hand makes its way onto the small of your back, gently guiding you out from behind the tree, “you need to ease up, i’ve seen how hard you work.”

your heart and brain somersault hearing that he’s been observing you in some way or another. his comparatively giant hand on your back, mere centimeters away from your ass, sends a chill up your spine. you realize how close he is to you, once again, while you two begin squeezing through the gap between the tree and the wall.

instinctually, you both face the tree to fit through the gap, not realizing the awkward position it puts you in.

your ass grazes steven’s crotch as you two inch toward the opening that would finally end this god-awful sexual tension that you felt. “um, this is.. uh,” is all you utter before his hands rest lightly on your hips followed by a soft “let me just-” from steven as he slips out of the gap first, not foreseeing the —delicious— friction it causes and excuses himself to his office immediately.

part of you is grateful that he left you. the other, hornier part of you wanted him to keep you there with his rough grip and grind on your ass. you sigh in defeat as you watch him exchange pleasantries with other employees and promptly walk into his office.

you had to be real with yourself. he is your boss, he is older and obviously was not interested. why would he not take the opportunity to feel you up even in the position that you were in just a few minutes ago. he is obviously not into you. nope. not a bit. just a man being nice. which was rare, you told yourself.

ignoring the mild ache in your core, you make your way to the makeshift bar at the party. you can only think of steven’s hands on your body; the care yet firmness he handled it with, and you needed to stop.

“hey, brenda. can you get me a drink? anything, i don’t care. i could use some alcohol right now,” you mutter, looking up at the woman you met in accounting on your first day on job, who was the only person who agreed to help out by bartending the event.

“sure thing, you look amazing by the way, where did you get that dress?” she asks, pouring from a bottle of peppermint schnapps. you smile wide at the compliment and tell her that your mother got it for you last year before you moved out and rented an apartment here at the city.

draining the red solo cup in one go, you ask brenda for another shot as you eye the buffet. you should probably get some food in you before you pass out.

steven has yet to come out of his office, and you down another shot as you watch him through the glass window focused on his computer. the drink burns deliciously as the heat from it spreads through your veins. you bite your lower lip and knit your brows, still wondering why steven was working even after the museum had closed. it is ten pm now, and you realize that time going by exceedingly fast with the alcohol in your veins.

you pout as you munch on a brownie. he could stay in his office all night, what will you do now? technically he already made his “polite appearance” for the night and did not need to leave his office.

racking your brain, you scan the room for some kind of distraction that would get him out of his room: maybe an impromptu dance party? karaoke?

there isn’t much to work with until your eyes land on the pile of gifts underneath the christmas tree.

you almost forgot you got him for secret santa (and that you definitely did not bribe isiah in security in exchange for steven’s name). you just had to wait until midnight to be close to him. you could do that for sure.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

believe it or not, steven does end up coming out of his office, his hair, disheveled, and his slightly bloodshot eyes scanning the room as he walks up to the bar for a drink. you are five drinks in, even after promising you would pace yourself, courtesy of brenda and a few other people you started socializing with randomly in the office. liquid courage can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

you are the first person in the room to notice steven walk in with that tight black sweater accentuating his shockingly defined chest, and a gold necklace adorning his beautiful neck. your gaze follows his figure through heavy-lidded eyes as your legs, having a mind of their own, carry you to him, dragging him to the bar with the weakest grip on his arm.

“come on, steven, how long are you going to be inside your office! let’s party, you work too hard!” you exclaim through the party music in the background. your new friend group laughs along with you as you try making steven comfortable with the situation. you could tell the poor guy doesn’t go to a lot of parties and prefers being a homebody.

“what are you gonna drink steven?” you ask, your hand mindlessly touching his bicep as your face barely hid the utter surprise his muscle definition had you in.

“i’ll have whatever she’s having,” steven chuckles, pointing at you, and your new friends laugh at his joke, too inebriated to analyze whether it is even funny in the first place. as you grab the drink from brenda and hand it to him, little shocks of electricity spark at your fingers when they make contact with his.

you watch him dart his tongue out to wet his bottom lip and down the drink, wincing as he gulps it down. your eyes flicker to his adam’s apple bobbing as he tilts his head back to finish what is in his cup.

his neck is gorgeous. you realize that your attraction to his neck, specifically, was a bit weird, even vampirical, but could not, for the love of god, stop thinking about kissing it, maybe biting down on it as you gently pull on his soft, curly hair. you shift weights uncomfortably as you peel your eyes away from his neck and tell brenda to give him another shot of whatever she poured him.

you realize she gave him peppermint schnapps just like she gave you and smiled at the thought of tasting the drink if you were to kiss him right then. you nudge the drink toward steven who is obviously pushing back on having another one.

“i have work tomorrow, i have a thing-”

“come on! it’s a party, have some fun!” the small crowd around him cheers as you join in with the peer pressure. you are drunk, to say the least, swaying and bobbing your head to the music, smiling uncontrollably as your eyes memorize each and every single one of steven’s features.

the way his beautiful nose scrunches up as he feels the schnapps burn in his stomach shows exactly how much partying he does outside of work. you need him to have a good time, just out of pure concern for him. it is clear he did not have many friends, and you wanted to try to be his first. maybe even more than one.

“ohhhh this was a mistake,” he comments, gently rubbing his chest to relieve the burning.

“pizza?” you offer with a smile. you notice him being more carefree than usual as he thanks you without being overly gracious or apologetic for your effort. while you did love him for the bumbling british hunk he was, you never wanted him to feel uncomfortable around you. whenever steven was around other people, you would notice a spark in his eyes, one that was begging everyone to like him. you understood that more than anything.

the crowd around you disperses, leaving you and steven swaying to the music at your own rhythms.

“when was the last time you danced, steven?” you ask, leaning closer to his ear as the music gets louder.

“i dunno… maybe a while ago… ten years….” he speaks, mirroring your gesture and leaning toward your ear. you feel his breath on the nape of your neck, making you take a sharp breath.

“you didn’t dance at last year’s christmas party?”

“i joined the museum january of this year, i dunno how i was promoted this fast, though.” he chuckles near your ear, and this time, you feel him grab your arm to lean in. oh fuck.

“aren’t you glad you made me your assistant, how great is this party hm?” you feign cockiness, yet genuinely hoping that he is enjoying himself.

he just looks so stressed: from his eyebags to his disheveled hair, to the number of coffees he downs in the morning. part of you wants to hug him and cook him a meal that wasn’t ready after two minutes in the microwave. the other wants to relieve his tension under that same cedar wooden desk where nobody but he could see you working hard on your knees.

“thank you for this party, seriously.” steven squeezes your arm momentarily, his eyes roaming your face as they did with anybody he talked to, “i wouldn’t have anyone else as my assistant that’s for sure.”

he makes you feel like the most important person in the room with his soft yet piercing gaze that so desperately wishes to know your deepest secrets.

“of course, i wouldn’t dare disappoint you.” you smile, your heart fluttering at the way he interacts with you. you love hearing praise, especially from someone you look up to. you wonder if that’s what he would sound like under you, breathing heavy and praising the way you would bounce on his cock.

woah. maybe you needed to slow down on the alcohol.

the dim lights illuminate one side of his face as he talks to you about his latest findings in the world of egyptology. you drown the music out as the alcohol in your veins make your vision blurry. steven looks almost angelic from your view and you sigh dreamily as you maintain eye-contact, nodding frequently.

you realize how you were the only one steven talks to the most in the office. you could listen to him for hours and hours, his voice soothing every nerve in your body; your eyes analyze every little detail about him, from the way one of his eyebrows cock up when he’s deep in thought to his toothy grin.

you were crazy about him. you just wish you could scream it at the top of your lungs. you wish.

right as your heart feels like it is about to burst out of your chest, the clock hits twelve am followed by the alarm on your phone interrupting the moment between you and steven.

“EVERYONE! it is time for secret santa!” you announce, feeling steven’s grip on your arm loosen. this is your chance.

you wait for others to sort through their gifts until the area is clear and then go for the gift you got steven. you notice two gifts under the tree that have not been picked out yet. confused, you read the card attached to gift near yours and do a double-take when you find your name written in what you knew was steven’s gorgeous penmanship.

that means…

“merry christmas!” you hear steven’s voice from behind you, joyful as ever. your heart beats fast, wondering what he got you, how much thought he put into the gift, or whether he just grabbed the first thing from the gift shop.

you pick the gift you bought for him and hand it to him, “merry christmas to you too, steven.” you try saying, although your voice is suppressed by christmas music blaring on the speakers.

fuck, not right now.

you have had enough. the music is getting under your skin and overstimulating your senses. you have to get away from it. more importantly, you have to see steven open his gift.

“can we go somewhere quieter?” you half-yell over the music, gesturing toward his office. you see him trying to make out what you said by reading your lips and finally nod.

that feeling from earlier begins pooling at the bottom of your gut once again as you follow him to his office. absolutely nobody notices the two of you as you sneak out of the irritating atmosphere and slip into one that was quieter and cozier.

a sigh, that sounds too much like a moan, escapes your lips as you sit down on the couch in his office. you have never used it before so it feels weird when you feel the soft cushions dip underneath you.

you see steven place his gift on the cedar wooden table before rummaging through his bottom drawer and fishing out a bottle of peppermint schnapps. is that the only alcohol they had here?

“oh my gosh you hide alcohol here?” you fake a gasp as you eye the half-full bottle resting in steven’s hands. he brings his index fingers to his lips, shushing you with a clumsy grin painted on his face. your first instinct is to shut the blinds in case someone sees you drinking alone in the room with your boss at twelve in the morning.

steven produces two shot glasses from his drawer, holding them in one hand and the bottle of schnapps in another. you notice how elegant his hands look wrapped around the bottle, each bone and vein resembling a greek sculpture. you make yourself more comfortable on the couch by crossing one leg over the other, ignoring the well-needed friction at your inner thighs. your torso dips down as your hips sink into the back of the couch, enhancing your cleavage in the dim yellowish light in his office.

at any other moment, you would have adjusted your dress. but you let your dress stay the way it is, ignoring that you might regret the embarrassment later. you watch steven place the bottle and the glasses on the coffee table in front of you before bringing the gift you got him to the couch.

the smell of coffee in his room feels stronger for some reason, and you start to melt into the couch. you cannot believe how comforting his room is: from the old books placed on the wooden shelves to the replicas of artifacts he has on his wall. you feel safe.

“ok shot first, and then gifts?”

you nod as you watch him pour the schnapps. after clinking the glasses, you two down them, both wincing at the same time as a laugh bubbles in your throat watching steven cough.

“steven, open your gift first,” you state, fidgeting your fingers in nervousness. you watch him carefully unwrap your gift, making sure he doesn't tear the wrapping paper. his fingers work deftly to open the package, careful as to not fold or crease the paper. you wonder if this is how he would undress you. would he handle your body with the utmost care, gently peeling your dress off of you? would he unzip your dress softly as he leaves marks on your neck?

you observe steven’s whole face light up at the sight of the present. “you …. you got me a book on khonshu? how did you-” he begins in disbelief, his eyes raking every inch of the item in his hands.

“you have mentioned khonshu a lot, in the past month… your dead giveaway though? you accidentally forwarded me the link to buy the book instead of that contract you wanted me to look over that one time... i figured you forwarded me the web page you were on, i don’t know if you remember…” you trailed off, biting your lip to stop yourself from giggling at the memory, “but yeah.. i wanted to make sure i got you something you actually wanted instead of something you didn’t care for all that much.”

steven looks at you, astonished. he cannot fathom anyone actually listening to him and giving him something he has wanted for a long time.

“i don’t even know what to say… thank you, so so much.” he speaks, extending a hand and placing it on your own resting in your lap.

you, once again, ignore the fire it sends to your thighs and remember something, “oh, open the book, there is another surprise.”

steven’s eyes widen at you as he frantically flips through the pages to find a locket slip out of the book.

you got him the same locket you wore. the one with the crescent moon charm he adores. you realized he was obsessed with the moon, and you found it adorable, especially as you started drawing similarities between the two. the moon shines the brightest at night, just like steven who gets no sleep and apparently reads scholarly articles in his free time to work on his dissertation.

steven grant has different phases of him throughout the day, just like the moon, as he goes from the brightest when he works at the museum to a dull new moon when he is on his way home, exhausted.

you watch him hook the locket around his neck before looking up through his jet-black eyes, “what do you think?”

“it’s perfect.” you’re perfect, you want to say, but you know you can’t.

“okay, now let's do a shot before opening my gift!” you exclaim, peeling your eyes off his collarbones for the millionth time and pouring shots for the both of you.

it seems like you regret that last shot because you immediately rub your temple in distress. clearing your throat, you rip open the packaging, not caring anymore as you feel your vision blur before revealing his gift to you.

it’s a letter, and a paperweight. your eyebrows furrow, “what is this?”

“well i got you the paperweight for your office, but, you should read the letter and see what it says,”

maybe it is the alcohol that is making you more confused than you want to be, but you decide it is best you follow his lead. carefully tearing open the envelope, you unfold the paper, revealing the title in bold letters stating, ‘recommendation letter.’

your mouth falls agape, almost cartoonishly, as your eyes scan the paper; a bit drunk to properly read the letter, but sober enough to make out the words “diligent,” “hardworking,” “good listener,” and “sharpest employee.” although one phrase catches your eye immediately.

“extremely lucky to have.”

you look up at him through knitted brows, your lips forming into a grateful pout as you folded the letter back into the envelope.

“you really believe what you wrote, steven?” you manage to squeak out without bursting into tears right there. you couldn’t believe you were getting emotional on your boss’s couch just because he wrote a few words he probably copied from a template online.

“yeah... why? did i say something wrong? did i make a typo and accidentally call you a bad worker or something, blood hell, i need to proofread my paper a hundred times, im sorry i should probably-”

it was now or never.

“so you think youre extremely lucky … to have me?” you question, feeling liquid courage hoist you up to an unbelievable level of confidence. you feel your ears burn as you watch steven’s face twist into an apologetic expression, one that was ready to offer any and every explanation in the world to make you understand that he didn’t mean to offend you.

“i’m so sorry if i offended you in any way, all i meant was that you are a great employee to work with and an amazing assistant to have…” he trails off, searching your expression for resolve as you further pout at his explanation.

a soft “oh,” escapes your lips as you stare solemnly at your hands resting on your thighs.

reality hits you like a ton of bricks as you realize that that is all he saw you as. nothing more, nothing less. his assistant.

“did i say something wrong again? if you want to hit me go ahead, but i really am sorry-”

“steven, stop. you’re fine!” you raise your voice, frustrated with how nice he is. “i might really regret this in the morning but i could not care at this point… steven you are perfect the way you are. i might have only known you for a month but you are quite literally the sweetest person alive, and i’m tired of you not seeing that. even during meetings, you let yourself be spoken over, and it breaks my heart to see a great mind and an even better person like you go through that.”

steven stays silent, still processing your words.

“that might have been a bit random, but my point is, you’re too nice. you’re too nice to believe that you are good enough to be where you are. you are too nice to stand up for yourself. you are too nice to see that your month old assistant is attracted to you-”

“what?” you hear steven blurt.

your fingers graze softly over your parted lips in astonishment, realizing what you just said.

“you’re … um. pardon? i just, want to makes sure i heard you correctly-”

you cannot backtrack now. you know that. taking deep breath in, you turned your body to him, wetting your lips.

“i want you, steven. but i know you don’t because you only see me as your assistant, and that’s fine, but i can’t stop thinking about you. i feel myself losing my sanity over you, and i just want to be free of it. please just, reject me so i can move on with my life....” you speak, defeat ringing in your voice as you slouch and stare at your hands.

the air between the two of you feels heavy. the scent of the peppermint schnapps settling in the air makes you realize just how drunk you are. you just told your hot boss that you fancied him.

tired of waiting for a response, you get up and off the couch and straighten your dress, “message received, if you don’t mind, ill just leave now. i think brenda told me she would give me a ride ho-”

“you’re leaving?” he states, almost offended.

“yeah, it’s clear you’re just trying to save me from the embarrassment. lets just act like adults and move on-”

“you can’t just leave after telling me you want me. that’s not fair!” he exclaims, standing up. you are thankful that the blinds in the office are closed shut because you did not want others to see this.

you tilt your head in confusion. what was happening?

“you don’t think i think about you?” he speaks, the air in the room clearing up as he addresses your wildly inappropriate crush on him.

you feel the blood in your body come to a stop. you become more confused, if that were even possible. what does that mean…

“the way you strut into the office every morning wearing a flimsy blouse and that tight skirt? do you know what it does to me?” he accuses, almost in disbelief.

“wai-”

“why do you think i left you after helping you with the christmas star? i had to fix my fucking pants, for gods sake. you cannot just walk around in a dress like that, almost grind on me and expect me to stay sane now, can you?” he blurts, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

you feel the ground move beneath you. the bottom of your gut feels like liquid as you stare at the man in front of you pouring his heart out.

“why do you think i always stay in the office until you do? i don’t want to miss a moment in the day when that you’re not in my sight.”

this had to be a dream, you tell yourself.

“and today, you show up with this dress on, i feel like im being tortured.”

you feel an arrow go through your chest and your knees give in as you find your way on the couch once again.

“so… we both find each other attractive…” you comment, your eyes following steven’s figure slowly as he walks in front of you and halts. you look up at him, a point of view you only imagined at night when you needed to relieve that ache between your legs for the nth time in a row.

you stand up, your legs wobbly as you don’t dare to break eye contact. steven inches toward you, his eyes piercing yours as alarm bells in your head go off. his hands find their way onto your waist as they pull you in with one swift motion, your hips flush against his. if steven wasn’t holding you right then, you may have fallen.

you cannot take more of the wait. you realize that steven has done his part to be proactive. you have to take the lead next.

your own hands remove his from your hips and place them on your ass. finally, as you look up, you tip-toe to press a kiss to those soft plush lips of his that he would pout with when you would roll your eyes at him playfully after hearing his dad jokes in the office. the same lips that would quirk up when you made a joke in the office to brighten his tiring day.

the same lips you imagined devouring you as you touched yourself in your bedroom late at night.

you feel his hands roaming at your back as you try your best to stay in the moment. you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, tasting peppermint as he groans against the warmth of your now swollen lips.

you almost feel like melting at the contact of your nose against his before the two of you separate.

you notice a slight blush across steven’s face that your heart adores. you pull him in, grabbing the soft curls at the back of his head and kissing him once more, this time deepening it as you turn him to the couch and gently push him down on it.

the taste of peppermint schnapps lingers on your tongue as you settle your knees around his burly thighs. with another glance to appreciate his beauty, you go in once again, not satisfied with how perfectly his lips fit yours: the softness of them making you want more as you bite his bottom lip, eliciting an embarrassing noise from him.

as your lips curve upward at the noise, you inquire, “you want this right?”

steven nods enthusiastically, his gaze not leaving yours as your eyes shift to the exposed skin on his neck. his face looks so apologetic and tired, and normally, that would make you upset.

but having him between your legs, at your mercy, awakens something inside you. his desperate, almost pathetic countenance makes you lick your lips before pulling his sweater down to kiss his neck. your hands slip under his shirt, feeling his body as you moan against the nape of his neck.

steven grant is jacked. the firmness of his torso makes arousal pool at your core as your hips involuntarily jerk against nothing, desperate for some kind of friction.

“fuck, oh god…” you mutter as you feel his hands travel from your waist to your ass, massaging them when you find some needed friction against his well-defined thighs.

“how many girls have you done this with,” you question, continuing to admire the man trapped under you.

“just two… you?” he responds, cocking an eyebrow before tilting his head back as he feels your knee press delectably against his hardening crotch, earning the deepest moan you have heard yet.

“girls? just one, men, none.” you state matter-of-factly as you cup his face and immediately tug at the hem of his sweater for him to take off. his eyes widen momentarily at your response before following your lead.

“so i’m the first man you’ve ever-”

you nod hurriedly in response as you slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders before asking him to unzip you as you lie against his firm chest, feeling his hard-on against your knee.

as steven rids you of everything but your stockings, you both take a moment to admire each other. steven’s eyes linger on your breasts and the way your hips curve into your ass, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this for,” the man before you sighs, running his hands up and down the sides of your torso delicately, afraid he might break you.

lightning travels to your core as you fumble with his belt.

you cannot believe your ears. you pray that this isn’t another wet dream you were having after which you would wake up feeling empty.

steven’s hips buck up into yours as he gets his pants off and focuses his attention on you, once again. your arousal has soaked through your stockings and his trousers like a call for help, although you don’t say a word.

“fuck… oh hell, you’re soaking wet…” he whimpers, staring at your core. you feel exposed at the observation but you continue grinding on his thigh before hearing, “do you want to please me that bad?”

“yes, steven,” you mutter, burying your face in the crook of his neck to avoid eye-contact, feeling his cock twitch. it was almost embarrassing: you have basically no experience with men, and you find yourself at a creative cock-block.

the heat radiating from his body, coupled with his hot breath on your sensitive skin drives you to bite his neck as you hump his thigh, not caring about how pathetic you look. you are already close to an orgasm, faster than your hands or that pink toy in your room have ever gotten you.

“i love it when you say my name,” he whispers against your ear before biting down on the shell of it and lifting you up effortlessly. it is like you weigh nothing to him as he picks you up and lays you down, your naked back against the soft couch cushions. steven’s figure hovers over yours, his hands almost trapping you as his chain dangles in your face. you bet this is what heaven is like as he trails kisses down your collarbone, all the way to your breasts.

you feel sensations you have never felt before in your life as you identify his calloused, yet gentle hands fondle your breasts, leaving kisses around the nipples.

“you’ll let me know if you want to stop, is that right?” he confirms, taking in one of your nipples between his teeth and licking it before continuing down your body. you nod frantically as your eyebrows twist up and your jaw falls open in pleasure.

maybe it is the schnapps, but your body is on fire. you absolutely cannot believe the position you are in: under your boss as he worships your body.

“you are so perfect, you know that?” you hear steven moan as you rub your thighs together. immediately noticing so, he settles between your legs, kissing down your stomach.

you are about to be eaten out by your boss. what the fuck.

your fingers find their way into his hair again, grabbing and twisting the strands with every kiss and bite of his until he slips your stockings off your legs.

you see steven gulp before attacking your thighs with his mouth, knowing just how turned on you are. you want to pull his head onto your pussy but you know that he knows what he is doing. there is a reason he is waiting.

“fuck steven, please just… please, please please”

“all in good time, love,” he states, the vibration of his voice making you buck your hips in desperation. his beautiful fingers inch closer to your core with each kiss as he slowly hooks your legs on his shoulders.

you want to turn your head away from him; away from his eyes that made you feel so exposed. yet you don’t want him to stop.

“you smell so sweet, so… mph… fucking good,” he growls before licking a stripe up your folds, sending butterflies all over your body.

you almost moan embarrassingly loudly right there before you realize that your colleagues are still out there. steven’s eyes zero-in on you as he brings his fingers to your clit and prods gently, rubbing tiny circles. his tongue, on the other hand, teases you as it licks around your core right before delving straight into it.

your legs turn impossibly weak as you look down at the man between your legs, working hard to make you feel better.

“i touch myself thinking about you… steven..” you manage to squeak out in-between moans.

you feel steven stop momentarily before gripping your thighs and adjusting his mouth deeper against you before attempting larger, more intense licks; the friction of his beard making you bite your fingers to stop yourself from screaming.

“do you…. fuck, t- touch yourself thinking about me?” you ask, barely able to string a coherent sentence together with how good he is making you feel.

“i can’t stop… fuck… you’re irrestitable, how are you real,” you hear steven groan as he looks up from his task and at you, his stubble now slick with your arousal. “i haven’t been able to focus because of how you strut around the office in your tight clothes… every time i see you in them, i just want to rip them off you, you know that?”

“why didn’t you?”

“because … i’m- mph… i’m a foolish, foolish man. but at least im right where i need to be right now, huh?” he winks at you from between your thighs.

“make me feel good, please steven?” you request, sitting your elbows up and bucking your hips at his face.

there is no way he can say no to you, you precious thing on his couch waiting to be pleased in more than one way. steven extends one of his hands to your lips as the other stays, rubbing your clit.

the pad of his thumb rests heavily on your bottom lip before you understand exactly what he wants. you hollow your mouth out and hold his wrist before pushing his index and middle fingers into your mouth. bobbing your head slowly, you suck on them like your life depends on it.

as your gaze shifts to him, you see him lapping hungrily at your core, prodding one of his fingers at you entrance. you figured he had very little experience apart from penetration and did not assume that he knew how to make someone cum this fast with his tongue.

your mouth hangs open as he spits on your folds, mixing it with your slick and enters you with his fingers. this is so different than what you would do to yourself. his hands are experienced; he knows exactly what to do to push your buttons.

“you think you can take more?” he whispers, receiving desperate nods from you.

you are extremely close to your breaking point the moment you feel a second finger push inside you. you have never felt this full in your life, and you doubt you could ever make yourself feel so good after having been finger-fucked by your boss during an office christmas party.

“steven…” you moan lazily around his fingers before letting go of them and throwing your head back in pleasure, fingers curling inside you.

your own fingers grab his hair once again, bucking your hips at him like a bitch in heat, but he does not give in. as he pumps you full of his fingers, the thumb pressing on your clit pushes deeper right when you feel his tongue lap at your pussy.

you barely see your orgasm coming before he spits on your pussy one last time and rubs your folds together in a consistent rhythm as his teeth nibble softly on your clit.

you don’t care if you are about to crush his head between your thighs as you see blinding white pleasure, and delicious pain spread through your body like wildfire. nothing else matters to you but the man between your legs with the mouth of a god himself. your thighs cage his face in, feeling his beard deliciously rub against your clit one last time before you come down from your high.

both of you stay still for a while, taking everything in. your legs still shook from the best orgasm you have had in your entire life, and steven rests between your thighs, lazily lapping up the last of your arousal.

“fuck , steve-.. i don’t know what to-”

“i’ll clean you up, you stay right here,” he interrupts, climbing out of your legs, making you notice the strained fabric against his cock.

“wait, do you want me to-” you question, pointing at his erection as you sit up from your position, still feeling the weakness in your limbs.

“nah, your first is on me,” he winks, his face painting with the familiar grin you see every morning. it was as if he reads your mind the very next moment and bends down to kiss you.

you taste yourself on his lips as you smile into the kiss, “round two at my place?” you speak, tracing his eyes with your gaze.

“wherever you want,” he utters, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

that was better than any christmas bonus you have gotten.

you could get used to this.

[myorestes]

Damerey AU “Secret”

Forbidden love and two hot hearts. Nothing will stop them, but how long can they keep this secret?

[myorestes]

hate to love you

ˣ pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

ˣ summary: being stranded on a planet? not a problem, at least rescue’s coming. the real issue is that it means for twelve hours, you’re stuck with poe dameron.

ˣ warnings: 7.7k wc. explicit smut (oral/vaginal) and language. enemies-ish to lovers & forced proximity trope. mentions of blood & injuries. kinda soft!

ˣ a/n: “it’s been 84 years…” seriously tho i apologize for the big delay in posting ;_; but yay here’s my first official poe fic! i didn’t intend for this to be quite long, still i hope you enjoy 🤍

You’re seething with anger.

A red, hot, and blinding rage.

One more word out of your Commander, and you swear you’d make him regret having survived that crash landing.

You couldn’t care any less for his half-assed excuses. The weak explanations and baseless assumptions that only boil your blood. Even the sound of his mere voice has you so irritated that you wish the explosion had blown out your ear drums.

If only he had listened to you, then the two of you wouldn’t be in this mess— you wouldn’t be stranded on some unknown, barren planet deep in the outer rim.

Quick to point a finger, this was entirely Poe Dameron’s doing.

This was all his fucking fault.

Keep reading

[myorestes]

Silky Sweet (requested)

gif credits @mult1ple

request: could you write sub jonathan levy please.

pairing: fem!reader x jonathan levy

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, no use of y/n, smut, established dom/sub relationship, mentions of oral (m. receiving), handjob, edging, teasing, cum eating, aftercare, minor angst, confessions of deeper feelings

AN: hope this is enjoyed, i had a lot of fun writing it!

word count: 1.7k

misc. masterlist | requests are open

“Oh, god, please, baby?” Jonathan whines, his hips bucking up against your hand desperately.

The two of you are laying in your bed as you bring him just near the brink of his impending orgasm over and over. His chest is flushed, moving rapidly as he breathes deep and ragged. This is the longest he's lasted during one of your edging sessions; he’s let you do this to him a total of four times without cumming. All you can think is about how good he is for you. How soft and sweet and malleable he grows under your touch.

“What is it, sweetheart?” You murmur against him, the taste of his skin wet and salty from your activities.

This is exactly how you love him: fucked out, needy, and begging for you. You love him desperate, how fuzzy and saccharine his eyes get when you handle him like this. Jonathan loves it too, that he can just crumble in your arms and be as open about his needs as he wants. When was the last time he truly got to do that before you? He’s not sure.

“I need,” The words get caught in his throat when you tighten your grip on his cock, sliding your hand up and down the length.

The sounds of you stroking his cock are lewd and obscene. The tip is covered in lots of pre-cum and some of it has dripped down, working as a lubricant. There’s plenty of your spit on him as well; the first time you’d almost let him cum was with your mouth. You glance down at where you hold him, mesmerized by the way your hand moves up and down. You squeeze him tighter, just on the precipice of pleasure and pain, and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Need what?” You look up at him innocently, dusting soft kisses on his sweaty collarbone.

“Need to cum,” He breathes, his eyes mirroring his verbal pleas.

“Let’s get you to the edge one more time, and then I’ll let you come. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Whatever you want, baby,” He agrees easily and dips his head, slants his mouth against yours in a hungry, sloppy kiss that you return.

You resume your strokes, holding him tighter as you increase the speed. He squeezes his eyes shut, his body going rigid under your touch as you toy with him once again. His hair is wild, damp, curling in different directions from his twisting and turning. The sight makes the ache between your legs almost unbearable, but you continue to focus on him, leaning forward to take his earlobe in between your teeth.

“Such a good boy for me. Are you close, sweetheart?” You run your nose up and down his cheek, inhaling his muted scent, a mix of linen and pine.

“Yes, so close. Please, let me cum. Please,” He begs, his fingers knotting into the sheets as he tries to hold on for you.

You watch him closely, taking in every detail about his willpower– it makes you feel a little drunk. His eyebrows are furrowed together, the vein in his forehead pronounced as he bites down on his lip. He’s holding on for dear life and you can’t help but grin.

“Go ahead and come, baby, you’ve been so good for me,” You encourage.

Your words are all he needs, and he lets go quickly, letting out a low, filthy moan as he cums. His cum is warm on your hand, and you slow the pumps, effectively covering his cock in it. You bring your hand up, resting two fingers against his lips, and when he’s come down from his orgasm he sucks them eagerly, lapping up his own cum. You moan as he does it, watching as his tongue slips into the crevices of your fingers. The kiss you give him afterward says it all, full of affection and praise. He sinks into the mattress as you get up and head into the bathroom, returning with a wet towel that you clean the both of you up with.

Once you’re back in bed next to him, you tuck yourself into his arms, “You okay?”

He hums lazily, tightening his grip on you, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“How’s that head of yours?”

“Quieter now.”

He’d showed up at your apartment looking completely frazzled, and you knew that his mind was moving at a million thoughts per minute, none of them kind. Mira often had that effect on him, taking him to a low place that he struggles to get out of. To give him credit, he’s gotten better at it since the two of you started whatever this is. Today must’ve been brutal, she must’ve really laid it on thick– a thick layer of all the things he could be doing better and all he’s done wrong even though they’re not together anymore.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask cautiously, knowing that he doesn’t generally like to get too transparent about what she’s said to him.

“She knows that I’m a good father. She knows that there’s little to critique with Ava, I dedicate my life to her, and today she went there. Today she…” His voice begins to tremble.

“Hush, it's okay,” You lean away to get a look at him before kissing both his cheeks and capturing your lips with his. “It’s okay. It’s safe here, Jonathan.”

“I know. Thank you,” He whispers into your ear, and the gratitude in his voice almost brings tears to your eyes.

You sit both of you up on the headboard and hand him glasses as you debate whether or not to tell him about your feelings. It's been hard not to fall for him, impossible not to fall for him, because ultimately you have. He has a lot of healing to do and you can acknowledge that, but he’s sweet and supportive and makes you laugh. He’s a person that you can be yourself around unapologetically. The thought of him makes your heart warm and your body relax. Why not take the risk?

“I know that we started this as a distraction, and I’ve been having a lot of fun spending time with you and doing…things to each other but…”

“But?” He prompts, sliding his hand into yours as an act of encouragement.

You look down at your hands and notice how perfectly yours fits against the smoothness of his. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, your mouth a little dry as you try to formulate your sentences.

You keep your eyes downcast, fixated on a mole on his hand as you speak, “You started this with no desire for it to turn into anything beyond this, and I’m happy to do that if that’s all that you want but I think I want more with you.”

He moves towards you, his free hand coming up to raise your chin so you have to look at him. His eyes are inquisitive, searching your face for any hints of doubt. He wants to make sure you’re being genuine, that you know what you’re getting yourself into because he wants more with you too. And while he doesn’t find any doubt, that confidence that you always exude is fractured. He’s surprised that you’re nervous, you’re usually the one in control, holding the reins and guiding you both through the complexity of this. The more he looks at you the more distracted he gets, lost in the delicacy of your features.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, his voice full of wonder.

You immediately take his words as a start-up to letting you down easily, “But, Jonathan-”

He shakes his head, interrupts you quickly, “I want more with you too, just let me look at you.”

So you shut your mouth, and let him stare at you. It's the most intimate moment the two of you have ever shared, and though you feel comfortable with him your skin heats under his gaze. There’s nothing but tenderness in his eyes, and he sees that reflected back in yours. Both of you feel properly held, suspended in this moment in time in the arms of the other.

He removes his glasses again, leans in to rest his nose against yours, his damp curls against your forehead, “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Well, I was nervous. I didn’t know if you felt the same way,” Your lips brush his as you speak, and you feel rather than see the smile spread across his face.

“Let me reiterate that I do. Can you be patient with me?”

You take his head into your hands before propping yourself against the headboard again, “Jonathan, I’ve been feeling like this for a few months now, I think patient is my middle name.”

That makes him laugh, and he rolls onto his back, bringing you with him in a move that makes you squeal. It makes it easy for him to kiss you, but this kiss feels different; slow, intricate, and silky sweet.

“Can I take you to dinner?” He asks, after kissing you breathless, his cheeks golden skin slightly flushed.

“Like…on a date?”

“On a date,” He confirms.

“You weren’t really dressed for a date when you got here,” You gesture to his pile of sweats on the ground.

“I didn’t say it was going to be fancy,” He teases, and now you’re the one laughing, your warm breath tickling the skin of his cheek.

“Oh, so you’re gonna take me to just any old place, huh?”

“You only get to have that smart mouth in bed,” He pinches your hips playfully, planting one last chaste kiss on your lips. “Go get dressed. Something nice.”

You drown him kisses first, brushing your lips against every exposed inch of his skin you can reach before jumping up and heading back into the bathroom. And when you look into the mirror, all you can do is grin like an idiot; what a risk that was.

if you’d like to be on my jonathan/oscar issac characters taglist let me know!

jonathan levy taglist: @giona45-5, @angelfxllcm, @sweetascherrylies, @hotchs-bitch, @jakelcckley, @mrspector, @jitterbugs927, @myorestes, @winwin70, @ninebluehearts, @siezethenights, @my-rosegold-soul

[myorestes]

Pixel art by @euthanasian - Dance Central 3 end credits

[myorestes]

layouts for y'all.

[myorestes]

“Is this real? All I know for sure is that the rain feels real as it hits our face. Real enough, anyway. And that’s good enough for us.” Moon Knight #14 (2016)

[myorestes]

Dream Boy (2/?)

Steven Grant x F!Reader, Marc Spector x F!Reader

↪ Warnings: Fluff, Tiny Angst, Not the best of Writing

↪ Summary: Your coworker seems to be a weirdo. but not a bad weird. Maybe, a cute- a cute weirdo?

A/N : Mostly just a sub in story. This is from my Wattpad

Tags : @later-gators12

Words: 1k

The sun hit your closed eyelids.

You grunted as the light continued to irritate your eyes. Your hand came up to your forehead to rub it. Trying to soothe the pain.

You had another day of work to get to. Luckily, waking up wasn't too bad. Once you remembered what you had to do today it made a smile creep on your face.

Not necessarily what, but more like who.

A loving sigh escaped your lips as you rose from your mattress.

"Steven.."

You smiled as your eyelids lifted. You saw the sun, once again, making sun rays through your window.

It was a wonderful sight as you read your alarm.

6:00...

"Much better.."

You mumbled as you reached for your phone. You checked one of your list apps to see what you had planned for today. You wrote down what you needed to bring, some goals, and some exciting books to get to.

Especially your Egyptian books. Those are what interested you most.

Steven had appeared back into your mind. You tried to shake the thoughts away but somehow they didn't.

Then a look of shock came from your face.

'He doesn't even know my name'

Your hand softly touched your lips as you thought about this. You sighed, your heart felt broken but you knew it wasn't. What was happening to you?

This feeling. You didn't understand it.

You pushed yourself off your bed and made a plan. 'Don't get attached'

You gathered all your essentials and made it out the door with some time to waste. You thought it would be best to grab a coffee. You greeted your neighbors as you walked down your street. It was a calm morning with birds chirping, and the sun shining onto your soft skin.

You felt cool. It wasn't too hot nor too cold. Just cool.

A calm smile was set on your face. You rested at your bus stop sipping your coffee, excited to see a familiar face at the museum.

. . . . . . . . 𓆩❤︎𓆪 . . . . . . . .

Finally, the bus had made it to your stop. You had finished your warm beverage and threw it out. As you got on, you noticed how packed it was.

'This isn't going to be a fun ride, is it?'

An unamused sigh exited your lips as you squeezed past people to make it to the back of the bus.

You were suddenly pressed up against another man. Your hands couldn't be placed on your sides so you were forced to rest your hands on the poor man's chest.

You were too embarrassed to look up to the victim who was now in your grasp.

"I-I know you"

The man huffed. You darted towards the voice to see someone familiar.

Steven.

The bus suddenly swerved to the left, causing Steven to push you up against the wall of the bus. Your body tensed up as you tried to keep balance.

Steven's arm was right above your shoulder. Hopefully, this didn't spiral into a mess.

The curly-haired boy looked down at you and looked incredibly embarrassed. He tried to move his arm away, but the bus was moving in a way that if he did remove it, he would smother you with his chest.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry about this uh"

He seemed to try and call you something. Your brain remembered the fact he never got your name.

"Y/n"

You huffed out trying to find somewhere else to look besides his beautiful hazel eyes.

"Y-yes, Y/n, I'm terribly sorry"

You instantly reassured him. He accepted the reassurance but you could tell that he somehow didn't fully attain it.

His eyes seemed to be glued to you. When you noticed his glare he would turn towards the window. Then after a couple of seconds, he would turn right back to you.

You chose to accept this game that he didn't know he was playing. You scanned Steven's face and noticed that his eyes had dark circles under them.

You stared harder to make sure they weren't bruises. 'Has he not been sleeping?'

This situation with you being trapped by Steven made an electrifying feeling occur below your lower abdomen. This was definitely gonna be an interesting bus ride.

. . . . . . . . 𓆩❤︎𓆪 . . . . . . . .

You stumbled out of the bus. Steven jolted towards you trying to catch you. He seemed to be ready for your fall but you caught yourself just in time.

Steven still went to grab your arm, since he didn't notice you caught yourself.

Your face flushed from seeing how much he cared about your well-being. Sure, the bus ride was a tease, but this was something else.

'Why are you doing this to me universe'

You and Steven were right outside the Museum. Yet, you both were stuck. Stuck on the fact Steven hadn't let go of your arm.

If you asked him to let go, you would miss the warmth. If you didn't, then Donna would eventually find you two. Her most unloyal employees.

"Ste-"

"Yeah, sorry"

Steven let go and stormed into the Museum. 'That...was....interesting'

You followed after him. Once you entered, you saw that Steven was already by the counter. This was unusual behavior coming from him.

You felt like you knew that he would apologize sincerely and make you feel like he did an act of crime. But this, this was not normal.

Sure, you've only met him for a day, but it seemed like you knew him for years. His hair was swept back from his forehead, and you noticed that his accent had disappeared.

He sounded like a proud American. 'Weird'

You shook it off, you didn't wanna make a scene and ask all these weird questions towards a man that you just met.

You walked into the Gift Shop. You saw that there were only a couple of customers inside. You set your stuff down and took a deep breath in.

'Let's get this over with'

You turned towards the cash register. Your eyes instantly fell onto Steven, who was reorganizing some stuff on the shelves.

His posture seemed different. It was almost like he was more formal and not so flimsy. Your eyes were so fixated on the young man that you didn't notice a customer come up to you.

"Excuse me? Helloooo?"

You heard the man but you didn't turn your attention towards him. You were just too focused on Steven.

"Hey!"

The man then slammed his hand on the counter. You shook and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Deepest apologies sir"

"Yeah yeah whatever, scan this"

The man shoved something into your hand. You didn't care to know so you just scanned and rang him up.

"$5.00 please"

You heard a scoff as he handed you the money. You bit your lip in anger as you gave him his change and receipt.

"Have a nice day!"

You said sarcastically. The man rolled his eyes and exited the facility which left you to admire someone.

But, when you looked back, Steven was nowhere to be seen. You looked down at your hands disappointed. Your arms rested on the cold countertop.

'This job just doesn't get any easier'

You started to lean forward on the counter and began to lay on your hand, which was holding up your head. You swayed your rear end side to side as you stood there with nothing to do. No sight of Steven and absolutely no customers.

You sighed as your eyelids began to fall. You weren't tired but the feeling of boredom made you, well, bored.

Your waist stuck out more as you finally lay your head on the counter. This wasn't comfortable at all.

You thought about sleeping on the floor, which made you laugh a bit.

"O-oh Y/n?"

You rose from your position and turned around to find Steven right behind you.

Your heart began to beat out of your chest. You started to get sweaty and you felt like you were having a panic attack.

"How long were you there for?!"

You pushed out. You noticed that Steven's eyes were fixated on your figure. It made you feel nervous and yet it also made that stimulating feeling come back.

"A couple of minutes I would say"

Your eyes widened and you gulped intensely at the fact that you remembered swaying your behind not too long ago.

You noticed that Steven was slowly growing a smirk on his face.

'This isn't how Steven would act at all!'

You tried to smile but you thought about how Steven's personality changed.

Steven's legs began to shuffle towards you. Almost hesitantly. You turned your head towards the shop to see if anyone was there to interrupt whatever this was.

No one, absolutely no one was in sight. You darted your eyes towards The curly-haired boy. He had his eyes set on your frame.

Steven had stopped right in front of you. You began to slow down your breathing.

The male then reached for something in his pocket. Your breath hitched, 'What was he grabbing?! Is this where I die!?'

Your eyes shut, waiting for the worst.

"Here"

Steven spoke softly. You reluctantly opened your eyes to find a name tag in the boy's hands.

"You alright?"

He said with a scoff. You smiled sheepishly as you swept the tag away from him.

"Quite amazing actually"

You gave him a thumbs up with one of your hands as you clipped the label onto your shirt with the other.

He rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled as he began to walk back to one of the shelves.

"Jesus.."

You huffed out trying to catch your breath.

Once you finally settled. A customer rang up. You put on a smile and got back to work.

'What a turn of events'