Date Night

The force binds all

Obi Wan x Fem reader

Requested by: @fandomtrashwhore

Warnings: Smut! Fluff! Fingering! Obi Wan Kenobi (don't die! Have 911 on speed dial! You'll need it!)

A/n: Hello there! You know how this is gonna go. DONT READ IF UNDER THE AGE OF 16! If you do however, Palpatine will haunt your dreams 😊

Word count:.....it's a shorter one.

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Your light sabers clashed together as you trained with your master. Kenobi pushed you back with the force, you stumbled and fell on your back.

"You must stop fighting against the force, Y/n! You'll lose every time. You need to learn how to control it." Kenobi scolded.

"Yes Master. I'll try again."

"Alright, get into position."

You took your stance, and charged. Blue and orange light clashed together, you use the force to knock him back. Kenobi hit the wall with a loud slam. Obi wan fell on his side, there was no movement from your master.

"Obi Wan!" You yelled as you ran in his direction. You fell to your knees beside him.

"Master? Oh please be okay! Obi Wan!"

"Obi Wan?" He chuckled. "I've never heard you use that name to address me."

"Forgive me master."

"No need. You're ready."

"Ready? I just threw you into a wall! Possibly broke your back! Damaged an organ or two! And you say im ready? I should be expel-"

Kenobi cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. He gripped the back of your neck and rolled over on top of you. Obi wan pressed his leg between your earning a whimper in return.

"Look at you my little one, already so needy." He whispered.

Kenobi slid his hand passed your waistband, even further down he began rubbing your clit. You whined at the contact of his lips against your neck.

"Who's your master?" He groaned.

"You-you are, please don't stop."

"Mmm, I like it when you beg."

Kenobi pressed his fingers into you and started pumping. You arched your back at the sudden intrusion.

"That's it, Y/n. Give in to master's touch."

"Ah! Obi wan please, more!"

He chuckled and leaned down, trailing kisses down your shoulder, nibbling and sucking on your collarbone.

"Do you wanna cum?" He asked.

"Yes, master! Please make me cum!"

"Such a precious little thing."

Kenobi pressed his fingers in further and rubbed your G-spot, you whimpered and squirmed.

"Cum for me, little one."

You gave in and came all over his hand. He smiled at the mess and rubbed your thigh.

"Ready for another lesson?" He asked.

THE END ❤️

I think I just had a heart attack-

The Vegan In A Steakhouse

Summary: Steven took you out for dinner but certainly didn't expect to be the main course.

Pairing: sub!Steven Grant x fem!Reader (brief mentions of Marc and Jake)

Word Count: ~ 2k

Content Warning: fluffy restaurant smut 18+!, very public teasing, pet names, Steve being the bottom that he is, soft FemDom reader, a pair of ruined pants, a lot of action under the table, a hint of degradation kink

A/N: There's no way I could write something about Steven Grant without slipping some Egyptian history talk in there

Please consider liking, reblogging and commenting! It means the world to me 🌸💞

Feel free to check out my Masterlist!

Tagging: @littlefreya (sorry for somewhat spamming you, but those Oscar Isaac characters are really doing it for me lately 🙈)

Carefully flipping the pages of the leather-wrapped menu the waiter had handed to Steven and you a couple of minutes ago, you heard the man sitting in front of you huff.

"What's a bloody vegan gonna eat in a steakhouse?" Steven mimicked the insensitive words his pain-in-the-ass boss Donna had thrown at him the other day.

The more Steven had told you about her, the more you disliked that woman for being a condescending twat. She clearly was very narrow-minded when she thought it was a silly idea to take you out to a steakhouse just because he preferred not to eat any animal related products.

"Stupid goose.", Steven mumbled, obviously still agitated by Donna's antics "Look, there's plenty of beautiful salads on the menu and who am I to say no to a very charming serving of chips? They even offer vegan mayonnaise!"

His little fuss elicited a small chuckle from you, because Steven took everything to heart... sometimes more than for his own good necessary.

"Steven..", you lowered the menu so you could peak over it's edge across the table "She's not worth your thoughts and besides, I'm really happy that you took me here."

To support your words, you threw him a warm smile and a small nod.

A sigh fell from his lips as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. He still had that sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if it was the first time he took you out on a date. Steven had this very special, unadulterated beam of affection whenever he looked at you and even after months of dating him it never failed to make you heart skip a beat.

"I'm glad to hear that, love." He responded, the frown on his forehead softening out.

"Let's just have a good night out. We both deserve that."

Steven nodded at that before he lowered his focus back onto the menu. You were sure to notice a faint flush of red on his cheeks and you bit your tongue to withhold a satisfied grin.

First and foremost he deserved this night out because he'd been such a good boy for you the past weeks.

After getting to know him it didn't take much to figure out that Steven Grant from the gift shop liked to be guided by a bit more of a firm hand and you gladly had taken that place. The both of you complemented each other in that way very well. So, to test your good boy's patience a bit you had proposed the idea of a little chastity to him. To that Steven had excitedly agreed, whereas Marc, let alone Jake weren't the biggest enthusiasts of this game to say the least. Eventually both of them had stopped their little frustration tantrum because, even though you also knew and got along well with Marc and Jake, it was mainly Steven you were dating and the other two came to terms with taking a step back.

After studying your own menu once more, you reached out to a waiter, letting them know you were ready to order. While Steven had decided on a large portion of thick-cut chips with a serving of said vegan mayonnaise in addition to a grilled veggie sandwich, you treated yourself to a rump steak with a salad on the side. You wrapped up your order with the waiter's recommendation for a bottle of red wine since neither of you were big in the wine game.

"Did you know...", It nearly bursted out of Steven as soon as the waiter had left "In ancient Egypt people mainly had only breakfast and dinner? They started their day with bread and beer."

"That doesn't sound all to bad, does it?" You snickered not only at the info given but also at seeing Steven taking the next best opportunity to talk about what he was passionate about. You enjoyed hearing about all that he had to tell. It reminded you of your childhood hyperfixation with ancient Egypt that sadly died along the way. Almost even more you loved seeing his face lighten up whenever he had the chance to just ramble without any judgment or fear of being annoying and that, for sure, he was not.

"And what about dinner?" You asked, reassuring him that you wanted to hear more about it.

A wide smile spread across Steven's clean shaven face and with an undeniable enthusiasm he continued: "Dinner was more of an opulent thing. Of course, more beer and bread but also different meats and vegetables. Preferably garlic, scallions, cucumbers and turnips. And...", He playfully rose one of his defined eyebrows "Back then it would've been quite a big no-no what we are doing here."

"Oh, how come?" You responded with a curious smile playing around your lips while leaning your face into the palm of one hand.

"Since we aren't married we would've gotten separated by gender for one of those fancy banquets." Steven reciprocated, his gaze slowly turning to the side from where a waiter was approaching, ready to pour two glasses of wine.

Both of you thanked the waiter after they elegantly filled both glasses with deep red liquid and left the bottle at the table.

"Appears a bit prude to me.", You stated while rasing your glass towards Steven "Cheers to being in the here and now then, hm?"

"Cheers to that and... cheers to us."

The filigree glasses clinked against each other.

"Cheers to us." You repeated, guiding the glass to your lips and taking a sip.

To your relief it didn't take too long for the food to arrive. As nice as sitting there and chatting with Steven was, your stomach had already been rumbling as you arrived at the restaurant. After taking a few bites out of your steak, you were sure to have ordered the right thing because it was without any doubt truly delicious. Now that you had stilled the most pressing needs of your stomach your attention shifted back to Steven, who was gleefully munching away on some chips.

Holding back a mischievous grin, you slowly slipped one foot out of the heels that you were wearing and stretched your leg towards Steven's. Your toes gently nudged his knee and upon that he coughed under his breath, almost getting a piece of fried potato stuck in his throat.

"How are the chips?" You asked, your voice laced with play-pretend innocence.

"They.. uh... they are great!" Steven mumbled, a faint rush of confusion washing over his features.

"How's the steak?" He asked in return, his eyes transfixed on his plate.

"Oh, it's really enjoyable." With your response your foot rose a bit higher towards the inside of his thigh.

In the span of seconds Steven's cheeks flushed red.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

"Sure, I- I'm aces." He already sounded close to tripping over his own words and you had to pull yourself together so hard as not to let a laugh slip over your tongue.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've put you through quite the hassle the last few weeks, hm?"

"Ah, no, it- it's, I've been... it's all good." Steven huffed, not yet daring to look up from his plate as you deliberately caressed his slacks-clad thigh underneath the luxurious eggshell-white table cloth.

Tonight he served quite a look in his button up shirt and a fancy burgundy tie. As per usual he really was trying his best when it came to you and you couldn't be more grateful for all the effort he put into pleasing you.

"I gotta say...", You stated with a carefully low voice after taking a good sip from your glass "You've really been such a good boy for me, Steven."

Now not only his cheeks were flushed, but his entire face got covered in a flustered red at which your heart started pounding faster.

"Have I... ma'am?" His ever so softly murmured words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh yes, you have." With that your self-control eventually crumbled into nothingness and you let your foot glide right towards his crotch.

A gasp fell from both of your mouths as you gently stroke across his slacks where his already painfully hard cock was straining against the soft fabric.

"And I think you finally deserve a reward for that." This time you didn't even try to withhold the mischievous excitement in your voice.

Apparently it hit Steven right where it should because as your words seeped into his mind, his silver fork fell out of his grip and hit the table with a muffled thud.

"Ts-ts..." , You clicked your tongue "Keep it together, Steven, c'mon."

His hand was visibility trembling as he picked up the cutlery again.

"That's right.... now please enjoy your meal before it's getting cold." You administered, while slowly rubbing against his hard on.

"I- I don't think I can..." The letters leaving his mouth were barely even more than a chocked back moan.

"Oh, I'm sure you can."

You recognised his heavy breathing as he tried his best to push the fork into a pile of chips, guiding the stacked food to the little bowl of mayonnaise.

The weeks of abstinence had surely left him desperate and aching for relief. You felt his need for it right underneath your foot as it stroke up and down his length.

"Please..." Steven's raspy voice pleaded.

"Please what?" You arched your eyebrows "You should look at me when you talk to me."

Yet again his face changed into an even deeper, more embarrassed shade of red. His lips pressed down onto one another before he slowly dragged his eyes from the delicate porcelain plate to meet your stern glare.

In that very moment you wouldn't have traded whatever riches for the sight right in front of you. Steven was but puddle in need for your loving touch, his pupils blown with lust.

"Please..", He started anew, "I- I can't take much more..."

"Oh, poor puppy.", You administered a tad more pressure to your foot "So worried about what everyone around will think, huh?"

He nodded, hardly able to keep his composure.

"Then you better behave yourself."

You didn't break from his eyes while you wouldn't stop torturing him underneath the table, rubbing over his throbbing cock again and again. Small droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead while his jaw clenched and flat breaths left through his nose.

"Oh lord..." Steven pressed through gritted teeth, his hands wrapping around the cutlery so hard that you thought he'd snap it right in half.

"Be a good puppy for me. Just let go. We both know you need it."

Steven's gaze drilled into yours, a watery sheen spreading across his eyes. God, he was about to fall apart inbetween so many people who had no idea what was going on.

"Ma'am!" He exhaled in a low moan right before you felt him spilling his pent up seed onto himself.

The warm load soaked his boxers and through his slacks until you felt the wetness on the sole of your foot.

"What a good boy..." You exhaled, feeling the thrill of the situation ripple through your body.

"And now, eat up... you don't want to miss dessert, do you?"

THE QUARRY (2022)

I WISH I could draw like this 🥹🥹

Oscar Isaac as Jake Lockley

dudebros... I am speechless

i can't believe i made that from scratch I MADE THAT

I'M SO PROUD

This is absolutely beautiful omg. I had a rollercoaster of emotions 😭💞🥰

Dove

Part 2 of 2 of The Locked Door Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.7K i apologize for NOTHING

Warnings: DUBCON ELEMENTS, SMUUUUUUT, religion kink, virgin kink, authority kink, degradation kink, praise kink, age gap, ohhhhh the list goes on y’all been here long enough

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time im sorry

***

Obi-Wan feels like he’s going to be sick.

Dinner in the grand hall was difficult enough, forking down mouthfuls of expensive food he’s sure was absolutely marvelous, if he could’ve tasted it.  The s’Ziscari clearly splurged on the celebrations—expensive food, expensive decor, expensive everything, down to the silk napkin he studied and fiddled with under the table as he awkwardly waited for you to finish your plate.

He felt uncomfortable, absolutely.  He’s felt uncomfortable ever since he shuffled into this blasted, Maker forsaken robe not long after he left your quarters earlier.

Not black, no.  Not like yours.  Not like what appears to be an overwhelmingly vast majority of the people he’s encountered so far this dreadful evening.

No, his robes are blue.

Keep reading

Please reblog this if fanfiction has been beneficial to your mental health.

Hero and Leander (M)

Pairing; Alex Law, (fem) Reader Warnings; SMUT, unprotected PiV (wrap it freaks), AFAB reader, subby alex law is best alex law, kisses, cursing, just- Friends to Lovers. Alex is down-fucking-bad Word count; 3.4k

Summary; After inviting you over to work on homework together, Alex begins to understand Juliet when he compared his love for you to Hero and Leander. 

THIS IS NOT EDITED

Alex was never good at his studies, he could never fully understand what his professors wanted him to if it was anything other than journalism. 

You’ve known Alex since your sophomore year of college. And now, being a senior, you still weren’t used to his bold flirting or the fact you still find random pieces of women’s clothing on the floor when you visit. 

Graduation was just around the corner, the professors ramping up on homework and projects, swamping you in essay after essay about pointless things you were never going to use after you left the classroom. 

Alex had invited you over when you talked on the phone that morning, saying you both could help each other while Juliet and David were both out at work. To him, it was the perfect excuse to have all of your undivided attention for himself. For you, it was the perfect plan to get done with your hardest essay to date. 

Laying on his bed, your legs crossed under you as your eyes narrowed at the lined page in front of you, Alex knew his determination to get any of his homework done was off of the table. Especially after moaning something about your professor and how it was making you rethink your decision on going to college.

You had on his favorite sweat pants of yours, a baggy old T-shirt, and no makeup on. With your class textbook splayed out next to your open notebook, Alex couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Alex couldn’t keep his legs still, his foot fidgeting, licking and biting at his lips, picking at the edges of his nails. He was nervous that you would notice, and you would do your normal thing of grabbing his hands and asking him what was wrong. 

How could he explain to you that he was so head over heels for you, that Juliet compared his infatuation with you to Hero and Leander. 

Keep reading

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

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

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

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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.