Happy Halloween, Steven
Steven Grant x F!Reader
Summary: this was supposed to be a fluff piece and then I thought about how Steven would look in his costume and how I'd probably react to it so. You guys get light smut.
Warnings: 18+, smut, heavy petting, handjob, jealous coworkers lol
Author's note: Thanks to @villainvindicator and @kittyofalltrades for helping me decide how to go about certain parts of this story :) xo
Jake is written in bold, Marc in italics, sorry if its OOC I was just having the best time writing this LOL
Word count: 2.5k
This wasn’t really how Steven imagined the annual Halloween party the National Gallery threw for its staff to go, but let’s just say he was over the moon with how his night was going.
The entire staff was being forced to go. Steven didn’t necessarily dislike parties but he wasn’t the best in social settings either. He felt a little better going to outings with Marc and Jake around now, it felt like he wasn’t going entirely alone. Plus, he did really enjoy Halloween.
Although Marc grumbled the whole week leading up to the party about having to dress up and how lame he thinks it all is, Jake was quietly supportive of Steven putting himself out there more and more. Especially since he picked up on his little crush on you.
Jake noticed that every time you’d rush by the gift shop, piles of paperwork haphazardly collected in your arms, heels clicking on the floors trying to make it to your destination without bumping into anyone, Steven would stop whatever he was doing and just blankly follow your movements with his eyes until you were gone. This happened maybe a handful of times per day, and every time it was the same: Steven would longfully gaze after you, sigh dramatically and then return his attention back to the task at hand. Marc usually mentally clocked out when Steven literally clocked in, so only Jake really knew about this little reaction Steven had towards you aka dopey heart eyes anytime you were in the vicinity.
Tonight’s party was a Halloween costume party, being held in the gallery’s dining hall, but it was supposed to be decked out by the party planning committee. Steven was slightly bitter towards the committee, led by Donna, since they didn’t let him help when he offered. You were on it, too, which was honestly part of the reason why he offered to help to begin with, hoping to get a word in with you, but Donna quickly interrupted your conversation to shut him down as rudely as she always does.
Steven had his costume picked out for a while, thinking it made him look bloody handsome, if he did say so himself. Jake helped him style his hair into a neater, slicked back look instead of his usual unruly curls to better match the outfit. Marc teased Steven saying that he was trying too hard for a bunch of coworkers that didn’t give a shit if he showed or not. Needless to say, Steven did not like that.
“Oi! Just because Donna’s insufferable, doesn’t mean they all are! There are some people I actually like at work.”
Yeah you’re a real social butterfly.
Marc, stop being such a culo. Steven, you better talk to her tonight.
Oh? This whole getup is for a girl?
Steven has to admit when he purchased his Captain Hook costume, the idea of you and what you would possibly dress up as dipped into his daydreams enough times. The shopkeeper looked entirely too thrilled when Steven tried on the black pleather pants, maroon vest and long black overcoat complete with gold hardware detailing and a fake sword for his belt. He also pressured him into buying some cheap eyeliner to drive the pirate look home. It was definitely not Steven’s first choice (initially he’d asked for Prince Charming) but upon looking at himself in the tri-fold mirror and seeing how the tight pleather pants made his thighs and rear look, he readily agreed, secretly hoping it would catch your attention.
If we’re gonna be here, at least we look good.
Deep breath, hermano. Look, there she is.
Again, WHO?
As soon as Steven walked in, it was almost magnetic how his eyes zeroed in on you; animatedly describing something with your hands to the angel with bright white, oversized wings next to you over the blaring dance music. His eyes widened and mouth dropped open slightly once he took in the sight of you, in a tiny, tiny sparkly, green number, hem cut in a zigzag pattern, clear high heels to give the illusion that you were floating, with petite green wings to match. The dress was much shorter than he expected to see you in, especially for a work party, but he was guessing you probably didn’t realize the effect it was having on those around you and honestly? He’s not complaining because where the hell have you been hiding those legs this whole time?!
He was beginning to attract attention just standing at the door of the hall, yet again caught staring at you with a dopey look on his face. It didn’t occur to Steven that he could be attracting attention because of how damn fine he looked tonight, pleasantly surprising some of the staff with his defined muscles on display with his costume choice - the pleather didn’t leave much up to imagination. He quickly made his way over to the food table, as one does with anxiety at a party, and scoured the table for vegan friendly options with shaking hands. Why did he come to this party again? What if nobody talked to him? What if he made a fool out of himself? Why did he think this costume was a good idea? They probably think he looks ridiculous, that's why they’re all staring…
Fighting the urge to nervously run his hands through his gelled hair, Steven stood fidgeting with his jacket and finally looked around the room to catch a handful of the more forward women blatantly staring at him bent over the table stacking his plate sky high, promptly choking on his food at the numerous eyes on him. Rushing to the punch bowl in an attempt to wash his food down before he further embarrassed himself, he didn’t notice you also approaching and narrowly avoided bumping into you.
“Are you…alright? Steven, right?” you asked just as he managed to gulp down half his cup of punch, nearly causing him to choke again as he swiveled around to face you.
“Uh hiya, yeah I’m Steven, Steven is me,” he tried to laugh at the end of that horrible, horrible introduction. He already knew your name, but pretended to ask anyway so as not to seem like a creep, which you confirmed with an easy smile. He tried so desperately not to look away from your face while you were talking but it was proving to be challenging, especially now that Marc perked up at your presence.
This is her? He playfully laughed. Steven, where have you been hiding this little nymph?
Steven wasn’t that guy, he would not be the guy caught staring at your breasts while you were showing him kindness and striking up a conversation by the punch bowl, like the nice girl he was sure you were, he would not, could not blow this chance with you. But God was it making him break a sweat at the effort. He tried to focus on some part of your face so that his gaze wouldn’t stray but then he got caught up in your eyes and the meticulous makeup you applied that accentuated the soft glow of your skin, trailing down to the perfect pink pout you wore tonight and-
She’s asking you a question, cabrón.
Ah, shit, he was not listening. Did you know he wasn’t listening? He thinks he’s ruined it now, for sure. His eyes betrayed his inner turmoil and panic, quickly making his whole demeanor tense which you picked up on with concern and asked again, “You sure you’re alright?” You ask as you move closer to him. He’s tall enough to see down your dress now and he quickly closes his eyes and inhales deeply.
This is torture. There’s a promising pink flush gracing your cheeks when he opens his eyes to look down at you. The track changes, something with a heavier bass starting up.
Do not. Fuck. This up, Steven. She’s hot, and likes what she sees.
Sí, parece que le gustas, this might work.
“Y-yeah, m’alright, more than actually,” he says, schooling his features into what he thinks is a coy smile but on Steven’s open and honest face just screams ‘I really like how close you’re standing next to me’.
You’re perceptive, he will soon learn. You’ve actually noticed him gaping at you a few times you rush past the gift shop in your hurry to get to your meetings on time, but you never get the chance to stop and chat with the cute, tousled-looking man behind the counter. You’ve taken notice though, especially tonight, with his tight black pants about to bust at the seams.
You’re smiling at him encouragingly, hoping Steven will catch on to your advances as you slowly lift your hand to finger at the lapels of his jacket, eyes slowly blinking up at him, looking over his face for a reaction. “I was just saying how it's a shame we don’t get to talk more at work,” you supply him with bits of your previous conversation. The other women who were watching this play out are scoffing at how obvious you’re laying it on for him, muttering bitterly amongst each other as they shift their attention elsewhere for the night. You have faith he’ll catch on, eventually. Hopefully.
“Me, too, I-I know you must be busy though, Donna definitely would ‘ave my head if she saw me bein’ friendly with anyone on the clock. Bit crazy, that one.” He manages to get out even with your close proximity and finger touching him through his clothes. Steven was going to slowly lose his mind if you kept dragging your finger on his clothes, your nail pressing into the fabric scandalously. There’s no way he could be misinterpreting this anymore.
Dude she wants you, stop fucking around.
And then you’re leaning up to whisper to him and he can feel the heat of your breath hit the shell of his ear and your breasts graze his arm, hair slightly brushing against his face in your movement; he can feel his dick twitch in his too tight pants, and it sounds like you’re smiling around your words as you say, “I could use some air, care to join me, Captain Hook?” Pulling back to look at him with eyes he couldn’t say no to let alone form words around. Steven thinks he agreed to join you because the next thing he knew he was being led out the doors to the main gallery by his hand, trailing after you like a puppy. Maybe Marc jumped in for a second back there. He’d have to thank him later.
You don’t stop pulling him behind you, occasionally looking back to giggle at his expression, until you reach the bathrooms on the other side of the gallery. He didn’t notice how long you two were walking, taking the opportunity to zone out at your legs effortlessly floating in those damn clear heels and the gentle sway of your hips as you brazenly walked in front of him.
Marc must have fronted again because he suddenly finds himself caging you in against the bathroom counter, standing in between your legs, hands spreading them as wide as they can in your obscenely short dress, as you sit between the sinks and you’re pulling him closer, closer, closer, until your lips meet in a hot, open mouth kiss. Steven’s hands are roving over your body, nonstop, from gripping your hips to squeezing your waist to ever so softly cupping your breast, and you moan into his mouth when he hesitantly swipes his thumb across your nipple through your dress. Your hands are in his hair, meeting slight resistance due to the product he’s used to tame his curls, his matching groans of desire echoing off the bathroom walls. You’re smiling into the kiss now, pulling back for air as you lean your head back giving Steven access to your neck which he happily attacks with his mouth, lightly nipping you in the process.
So - you didn’t think you were gonna end up with your hand down Steven’s pants - or rather Steven’s pants hanging around his knees - but you’re okay with it, more than okay with it considering you unzipped them to begin with even though he had to pull back to look at you to make sure he wasn’t making a fool of himself.
“O-oh, please, love,” he stutters out as you massage the head of his cock, thumb swiping over the slit. There was nothing you wanted more than to make Steven lose control in his stupid hot costume in the work bathrooms. He’s already breathing shakily, eyes rolling back as you work your fist up and down his cock, as you watch mesmerized, cataloging his face to memory.
Ahh, is this how every work event is gonna go from now on? You guys hiring, Steven?
Marc, we shouldn’t be here for this… As gorgeous as this little tinkerbell is
Steven tries to ignore the voices of his headmates as you continue to work him up, leaning forward to lick into your mouth partially to muffle his sounds and partially to not blow his load right there at the way you’re looking at him. He starts thrusting his hips into your hand, making you wetter just by watching him give in to his baser instincts.
“God, I’m not gonna last, love,” he whines out for you.
“Good,” you purr against his mouth.
His brow starts to furrow, and he looks up at you with a needy gaze as you pump your fist tighter, faster, your other hand reaching up to tug his hair back and he comes with a shout, eyes clenched tightly together and chest heaving.
You’re still slowly gripping his limp dick as you both look down to see his spend all over your thighs, leaking from his tip, dripping down your hand. He shyly meets your eyes as he hums happily and reaches for the paper towel stack behind where you’re perched to clean up his mess. When he comes back to wipe the white ropes off your thighs, you’re already tasting him and his jaw drops open at the sight of you smiling mischievously around your finger. You end up taking the paper towel from his hand and cleaning yourself up because Steven’s brain seems to have short circuited - something you’re very smug about at the moment. He has to shake himself out of his stupor to properly tuck himself away, and voices his concern about you not getting your own happy ending.
“Oh, we’re not done for the night, Hook,” you grin before pecking him and then gracefully hopping off the counter to stand pressed up against him.
“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” he mutters in amazement.
Told you it would work, hermano.
Steven, I swear to God if you don’t take care of her, I will.
Marc didn’t need to front anymore that night.
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