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360iris · 1 year ago

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Bloom & brew coffeehouse: lilac & orchid | florist!steven grant x fem bipoc!oc

➸ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 17.3k

➸ 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜.

cafe/flower shop AU, strangers to coworkers to lovers, slow burn, found family (steven finds love, marc gets the annoying little sister he never had & jake canonically has only one friend), womanizer!jake lockley, mk system as brothers

➸ 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.

tw for prescribed meds being shared, alcohol use directly followed by nsfw, steven with a pregnancy kink but who’s surprised?

➸ 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎.

started this in march 2023 and it has legitimately been the fic of the year for me— shae is the most important character I’ve ever written and I hope people might become as fond of her as I am;;; (i lovingly refer to her as a little chaos gremlin) This is a oneshot !!

➸ 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝.

music: shae’s playlist | steven’s playlist

character art: inital design, final design, shae & steven, (+smut)

moodboards: initial concept, final moodboard, all fic headers

part i. late start

day 1.

steven—

Dragging his feet down the corridor attaching the flower shop to The Bloom & Brew Coffeehouse, Steven enters the cafe with his head down, mind racing and stomach empty.

He’d slept in again, and this time was worse than usual, coming in for his shift as the Head Florist working at BB’s a whopping three and a half hours late.

Jake moved around the shops often, handling odds and ends, only to shut himself in the back office to handle placing orders and mull over paperwork nonstop for hours.

As the oldest, he would be unhappy with Steven’s tardiness, but never irate.

The man usually gave his younger brothers more leeway than they often deserved, cherishing what was left of his family the best he could.

Marc on the contrast, even as the second oldest, made his siblings’ problems his own.

The man barely qualifying as congenial on the best of days— but after this morning? It didn’t take a genius to know he’d lose his shit, and that wasn’t a conversation Steven looked forward to having, as he tries to operate at full capacity, on only five questionable hours of sleep.

Raking a hand through his hair, hooking the dark curls between his knuckles and pulling just enough to wake himself up, he paddles up to the register— fully expecting to get an earful the very second he makes it there.

Except that never comes, and when he raises his head, he’s met with an unfamiliar set of dark brown eyes staring back at him.

A young woman was standing behind the counter, no older than twenty, right where Marc usually stood.

With warm beige skin, her charcoal hair was dyed bubblegum pink in sections around her ears and nape, the broad coils braided back into a ponytail of spiraling, chaotic curls pointing in every direction.

A myriad of silver jewelry accented her features. The girl singlehandedly sported more piercings than Steven had ever seen on one person before.

Her septum, cupid’s bow, vertical labret, left brow, nostril, and lip were all pierced— which still only accounted for the one’s on her face. Her ears were even more elaborate in placement.

But despite all of the ornamental modifications, he found that her features still remained soft. Her face appearing youthful, cheeks rounded and chin small.

She was dressed in all black. A plain, short sleeve black tee tucked into matching washed mom jeans, with a small belt clasped at her waist.

He registers the myriad of line art tattoos littering her arms as she leans forward, resting her hands against the counter. Polished sage green nails tapping against the cool surface in short, rhythmic sequences.

The light that glinted in her eyes was playful, bordering mischievous and amused, as she purred out an obligatory greeting.

“What can I get ‘cha, sunshine?” She asked, her voice girlish, with a slight raspy quality to it.

And faintly, somewhere deep inside, he feels a pull.

shae—

Shae locks eyes on his form the second he exits the flower shop.

Watching as his thick fingers dip into his haphazardly styled hair, the coiling strands falling messily along the right side of his forehead.

His face is almost the exact same as the one she’d studied six months ago, when Jake first strolled into her life— as well as the second, she’d seen for the first time last week, when Marc began training her to work at the cafe.

And yet this third variation… Though he shared the same features as his older brothers, he carried them differently.

He was all thick brows and eyes lined with dark circles. Easily appearing as though he were on day twenty-five of running on less than five hours of sleep per night.

His clothes all seemed sized up so that his beige plaid dress shirt, dark denim jacket and light khaki pants slightly hung from his form. The sleeves almost engulfing his hands from how long they were.

His physical appearance very plainly toed the line between thought out and disordered.

Her gaze detaches from his pink cupid’s bow lips, when he makes it to the register, and those chocolatey eyes settle on her.

He looked dazed, brows moving to meet in the middle as he stared.

His mouth opens as though to speak, but no sound comes out, and he blinks back at her owlishly. His mind appearing to have started buffering the second his eyes fix on hers.

“What can I get ‘cha, sunshine?” She greets amusedly, lips pulling into a grin as she taps at the countertop.

He raises his right hand, extending a crooked index finger, when suddenly an arm glides past the left side of her head, extending a capped drink in a thick paper to-go cup towards the man.

“Ignore him, Shae.” Marc speaks up, voice even as he finishes handing over the drink. Pulling open the pastry case in quick succession to retrieve a half banana nut, half blueberry crumble muffin. “He’s a delinquent who sleeps through his alarms, even though I made sure there were a million of them.”

Marc doesn’t offer the baked good just yet. Scrutinizing him with narrowed, judging eyes. “Where were you, man? You were supposed to open the flower shop at seven. What time do you think it is now, Steven? You know, you said you weren’t going to be late anymore.“

Marc’s nagging tirade gets interrupted with a dismissive hand and Steven closes his eyes frustratedly, keeping them shut until he finishes speaking. “Look. Marc, Marc! I know what time it is, I know what I said. You don’t have to get on my case. I’m trying to get a handle on it.”

His older brother glares at him with hooded eyes, holding eye contact as he thrusts the muffin forward with a sturdy fist. Punching through the air between the three of them. “You said that last time, Steven. And you know you’re lucky this wasn’t one of the days Jo visits. Jake and I are sick of coming up with excuses for you.”

Shae watches the interaction with a muted sort of amusement, fitting her bottom lip between her teeth to attempt to hide her growing want to chuckle as Marc continues to nag his younger brother.

Her ears are filled with the sounds of, “You know there’s only so many times we can say you’re taking an early lunch because your head hurts, and you need new reading glasses. She may be old Steven, but she’s not dumb.”

The offending man only answers by dropping his shoulders and bringing a hand to rub across his face, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Really? You’re gonna roll your eyes at me? Sorry… is me caring about what time you make it in to cover your shift bothering you? You know what? Okay. Take your drink, and your muffin, I’m done talking.” Marc says maddened, his Illinois upbringing shining through as the vowels in his words begin elongating— the ‘a’s turning to ‘e’s and ‘th’s getting swapped for ‘d’s.

Marc snatches up a kitchen towel angrily before briskly walking away. Shae watches silently as he all but barges into the kitchen, and she’s left with only Steven as a companion at the counter.

With raised brows, feeling a bit awkward in the silence, her eyes slide back over to him.

He stares at the now swinging kitchen doors with a silent, irritated exhaustion written over his face. His head tilting back as he brings his drink to his lips part way, before suddenly deciding against it and turning to Shae.

“I, Uh. I’m so sorry for making you listen to all of that.” He says, setting his drink and muffin down onto the counter for a moment, as he brings his hands to his face. Shaking his head before dropping his arms weightlessly.

He eyes the counter, looking it over as he thinks before raising his eyes to hers again. “He’s just, well, sometimes he can be a lot.”

“No, it’s okay. I have younger siblings, four of them actually. So I understand how it is.” She replies with a soft laugh, lips forming into a smile, and he does the same thing he had done only moments ago. He stares.

Those dark eyes, hooded and drowned of any light just sort of fix on her face. And suddenly she’s subjected to one of the most unreadable stares she’s ever witnessed. Trying not to fidget under the unexpected coolness of them.

Here he was, the physical embodiment of the word disorderly, seemingly agreeable, but she found him more intimidating than she had Jake initially.

Then again, the brooding man had been cradling a kitten to his chest at the time, and there was a limit to how scary you could be in the presence of such unadulterated cuteness.

Shaking his head slightly, Steven looks down to the counter for just a moment before continuing. “Yeah. Um.” He swallows. “He’s been like that since we were kids. Never really got out of it, I guess. And that’s not to say he was wrong. By any means. I just— have a nasty habit of setting alarms and, um…” His eyes meet hers and he trails off.

“Sleeping through them?” She finishes his sentence for him, chuckling quietly as he nods bashfully.

“Yeah. I do.” He agrees. “They’d actually told me before I left last week that Jake had found someone to give Marc more leeway in the kitchens.” Steven eyes the name tag pinned into her shirt at her left collarbone.

“Shae.. niyah.” He quietly and slowly reads outloud.

“Yeah! Shaeniyah Moswen, at your service. Or should I say The Bloom & Brew’s and its customers service. Seems to me like you’re just freeloading.” She say teasingly, nodding her head towards the drink left to cool on the counter.

“Oh.” He sets a hand down across the cap of the cup. “Yeah. This one is free. But I have to eat multiple times a day so Marc just has Jake take it out of my checks. So I am paying, technically. Just not… you know.”

This causes her to laugh. “Right. Of course Marc has him do that. I mean, this is only the start of my second week, but that just seems like something he’d do.”

“So what do I call you?” Steven asks abruptly, interjecting as he looks at her, in that way, again.

“What do you mean?” She brings her hands to her stomach. Fidgeting with the silver rings on her tattooed fingers, pulling them off, and putting them back on again repeatedly.

“Well. It's just that I heard Marc call you by the first half of your name. But you introduced yourself with your full first. And then there’s your name tag, that has your full first as well. So I was just wondering what to call you? Which do you prefer? Oh bugger, I’m rambling. Um, I’ll… stop.”

“Oh.” She says simply before realizing she hadn’t actually responded to his question.

What could he call her? It was a simple inquiry, but for some reason it made her lower stomach flutter strangely. “I mean… whichever suits you, I guess? You could use either, or neither, to be honest.”

“Neither?”

“Yeah, y’know. That's how nicknames come to be. A person just… comes up with one for you.” She answers, looking down to her hands. Finding it oddly difficult to just be under his gaze for this long. The other guys hadn’t even remotely made her feel whatever this was gradually becoming.

“Just come up with one.” He repeats thoughtfully, “How about… Niyah? Yeah, I think that suits you. Niyah.” When he says it again, softly, placing it on the last wind of his exhale— chills roll down her spine and she’s pulled into a state of inexplicable, momentary awe.

Of this man? Of his strange ability to invoke whatever it was she had inside of her that had been, up until very recently, sound asleep.

Until he showed up, three whole hours late for his shift looking like a scruffy kitten in its first few weeks of life. Not much unlike the ones she fostered in her spare time.

“Niyah. Did you know that in Hebrew, it refers to one’s aim, or purpose? And in Arabic, it doesn’t stray too far from that same thought. It refers to the intention in one’s heart, to do an act for the sake of the Abrahamic God.”

She shakes her head in answer to the short exposition. “No, I've never really looked it up before. My dad told me that my mother just sorta got the thought one day. It was for the name Shea. Just a little zap of an idea really. He said she thought that meant something, so she went with it.”

And he smiles at this, face brightening at being let in on this nugget of information.

However the next wave of customers begins entering, and her eyes drift to the opening front doors distractedly.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll get out of your hair.” He says smiling, gesturing largely at her unruly, winding curls before pointing in the direction of the attached shop. “I’ll be opening the other entrance.”

“Alright, Steven.” She responds, biting her lip to hide her blossoming fondness.

part ii. floating leaf

day 17.

shae—

Wiping her hands dry on the black cotton of her work apron, Shae steps back from the counter. Looking over to Marc as he hands the last four drinks she’d just finished making to their owners.

“I’m heading to lunch now, will you be alright on your own?” She asks, looking up at him from under the brim of her baseball cap.

“Yeah, I got it.” He nods, not bothering to look at her as he starts wiping down his station. Preparing for the next inevitable influx of orders to come.

“You sure?” She double checks, although her fingers are already untying the knot of the belt of her work apron.

“Yeah.” Marc repeats, finally throwing a glance her way. “I’ve been doing this for seven years, most shifts alone. Take your lunch.”

“Okay, okay. I asked if you were good, not for a BB’s employee history lesson, grandpa.” She replies, snickering as he rolls his eyes, seeming mere seconds away from throwing the towel he was cleaning with at her.

She’s hanging her apron behind the counter when she hears another voice speak up.

“You’re going on lunch?” Steven asks, looking at her with curious eyes.

steven—

“Yeah.” Her eyes flicker to his jean jacket in his hands. “Were you about to take yours too?”

Marc wipes the coffee machine down, his eyes snapping from his task to Steven’s face just as his younger brother answers with a jerky nod, and back down when Shae pipes up. “Do you wanna come with? Or...”

“Yeah! Sure. Uh- Where are you headed to eat?” Steven asks, trailing after Shae as she steps from behind the counter, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her dark jeans before walking towards the front door.

“There’s a crepe shop a block away from here, they have a lot of different options. Would that be okay?” She says looking up at him, taking off her cap to run her fingers through loose shoulder-length curls before placing it back on, brim pointed back.

And Steven takes a moment to just look at her.

At the way her earrings glint. And how her eyes light up to a warm brown when the sun shining in from the front windows hits her face at just the right angle.

“Steven?” She’s waiting on him to reply, her hand pressing at the main entrance. “Do you want to go somewhere else for lunch?”

“No! No, crepes sound good. Real... good.” He replies, unintentionally jumbling his response together and effectively managing to sound like a right dunce in his eyes.

Shae only puffs out a laugh, grinning brightly as she leans her left shoulder against the door. “Okay.” Pressing it open with her body weight before walking out into the semi-busy sidewalk.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Have you been to this shop before?” Steven asks, trailing after her as she deftly bobs past different people on the street.

Shae walked with just a bit of pep in her step, visibly thrilled to have an entire hour to spend out of the shop, while still technically on the clock.

“Um. A few times, yeah. My friend, Dean, runs the store a few days outta the week. Everything I’ve tried so far has been good.”

Steven’s eyes drift from her at that detail.

A man…

He guesses he shouldn’t be too shocked at the knowledge of her having male friends, when she’d managed to befriend Jake, of all people. Especially since their peculiar friendship was what had gotten her the job at BB’s in the first place.

“Off topic but I’m still surprised that you managed to become friends with Jake. I mean, he doesn’t make those often— well, at all really.”

Shae snorts, “I’m not shocked that’s the case honestly. The first time I met him, he kept finding ways to turn the conversation around, so he could try to convince me to sleep with him.”

Steven’s eyes widen, amazed at how easily she admits this, her hands tucked coolly into the pockets of her jeans. “He did? That must have been… I can’t imagine how you felt.” He offers sympathetically, though she waves him off with a buoyant laugh.

“I just remember finding the big guy with the scruffy calico kitten sound asleep in the palms of his hands funny. It’s probably why I volunteered to be the one to foster it, instead of one of the usual go-to’s at the shelter. Even then, he only gave me his phone number ‘cause he thought I’d be a future booty call.”

“I’m missing how you could’ve possibly found him funny.” Steven mumbles with knitted brows, undoubtedly looking as confused as he felt.

“I don’t know how to explain it… I just had the feeling there was more to him than he lets on, and I ended up being right. He’s a complicated guy. Anyway, we’re here!”

The second Steven opens the door, allowing for her to step inside first, his ears are bombarded with the sound of a cheery, but loud female voice.

“SHAE-EEEE!” The woman all but screams in the otherwise unpopulated store.

“Hi!” Shae greets her with a laugh, as she’s promptly scooped into the woman’s arms.

“You said you’d ‘stop by soon’ four weeks ago. Is this your version of soon?” The woman prods, holding onto her captive’s biceps as she pulls back just enough to look at her.

She was a tall woman with olive skin and dark curls pulled into a half up, half down style. The tilt in her brows and the tick in her jaw made her appear a touch mean to Steven, but she was very pretty.

Especially with the way she dressed, in a form-fitting sleeveless black top and black faux leather pants that hugged her figure.

“You should see my ‘later’.” Shae replies with a cheeky smirk.

“Knowing you, that’ll probably be a year from now, you brat.”

“Maybe, that’s the fun of it though.” And it’s now that Steven realizes the way the two women look at each other.

The sly, almost giddy smirks. Hands caressing more intimately than was customary, and the way their eyes flitted about the other’s face.

It was like there was an unspoken game to their interaction. Like the way they looked into each other’s eyes, and then down to their lips was communicating something that Steven couldn’t quite hear.

“I brought my coworker with me today.” Shae prompts, turning to where he stood by the door simply observing. “Steven, this is Dean. Dean, meet Steven. I work on the coffee side of the shop his brother manages, and Steven handles the flowers.”

“I wish you’d stop introducing me like that.” Dean says teasingly before turning her attention towards him. Her green eyes are scrutinizing, as though she were picking him apart before he can even speak. “My name is Nadine. I’ve passed by your shop, I’ve never gone in though.”

“Oh you should, when you get the time. My brother Marc makes all the pastries himself, gets up at 2am almost every morning to get in early enough to bake it all. The coffee’s good too.” Steven rambles, feeling exceptionally nervous under Nadine’s obvious inspection of him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” She replies simply, a silence dragging in the air between them.

“Is Layla in today?” Shae pipes up.

“She’s on lunch…”

“In the break room, right? I have to talk to her before she goes out of town this week.”

“So that’s why you came today.” Nadine muses with a sigh, arms folding. “Yes, she’s in the breakroom.”

Turning to Steven again, Shae smiles, pointing towards the back section of the shop. “I’ll only be a minute, do you wanna order? I’ll pay for the both of us when I get back.”

“‘S fine.” He nods as she begins edging away. “I’ll be here.”

“They’re on me. You know that.” Nadine chimes in with narrowed eyes as Shae laughs.

“I have a guest with me, I have to at least appear civil.”

The moment she’s out of sight, the room becomes almost eerily silent, despite the faint music playing in the shop. There’s a brief five seconds where they stand there like that. Quiet, not speaking, before Nadine releases a long winded sigh and finally turns to him.

“What can I get for you.. Steven, was it?” She asks, walking to stand behind the counter.

“Yeah.. um, Niyah mentioned there were vegan options?” He mumbles looking up at the large menu overhead. All of the items were written in chalk on top of an expansive black board.

“Niyah?” Nadine, in the process of washing her hands at the sink, completely freezes.

“Mhm.” He nods, body swaying between trying to appear comfortable and toeing the edge of on alert before she chuckles lowly, focusing on the task of rinsing the soap suds on her skin away.

“Another nickname. Of course.” She muses, drying off her hands.

“Are you two dating? Or… have you dated in the past?” He blurts out finally, unable to keep that question to himself any longer.

Steven swallows thickly when her eyes meet with his but instead of reacting however he assumed she would, she just shakes her head and leans back against the cabinets behind her.

“No.” She answers simply. “Are you?”

“No.” He replies, blinking at her. Making her laugh dryly.

Zero humor appears on her face, or in her voice.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

And the comment makes him bristle.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” She corrects, a speck of light dawning in her eyes from whatever it was that she’d come to believe, in that second that they shared. Related in. “It’s just that, that’s how it usually is with her. Isn’t it?”

And he isn’t sure about her meaning, and it feels yet again like there’s a conversation he isn’t all the way in on. “ What do you mean by that?” He asks uneasily.

But then the door to the backroom opens and Nadine pretends that the question never left his lips.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

With their respective crepes in hand, under Shae’s suggestion, the pair makes a detour into a nearby park. Shae instantly gravitating towards a small family of ducks slowly wading through the corresponding pond.

She kneels at the edge of the bank, cooing affectionately when three ducklings divert from their mother to quack up at her from the water.

“They’re so cute. Don’t you think, Steven?” She asks just as the yellow feathered trio rejoin their group.

“They are.” He nods, crepe in hand. Tracing the outline of her face with his eye, from her lashes, to her nose and lips.

At this moment, she didn’t seem complicated. Like an inside joke he didn’t have all the context to.

She was just herself, and he was content with whoever she proved herself to be.

When suddenly a rampant streak of blonde dashes up behind her and presses its front paws against her back with all its strength.

Shae gets knocked off her balance, unable to hold herself up in her current stance, and subsequently falls forward into the water at the edge of the bank with a huge harumph, as Steven watches on in shock. Eyes wide, his lips part before his feet break into action.

shae—

She’d managed to turn mid descent, falling on her left hip, instead of face first into the murky water. Her right arm remains extended, ram straight into the air.

Her mind somehow moving quick enough to save her strawberry mango crepe from becoming drenched duck food, but not fast enough for her to save herself from getting soaked head to toe.

Suddenly Steven’s by her side, heaving her up gently with one surprisingly strong pull. He gets her on her feet again easily, and though her ears register the profuse apologies from the golden retriever’s owner—all of her attention is focused on the man in front of her.

He holds both of her biceps, anchoring her as she looks up at him with wide eyes and parted lips sucking in a shaky inhale.

She’d never been so… close to him before.

Close enough to see each little stubble on his chin, to really appreciate the color of his lips, and the scent of his cologne.

Steven smelled distinctly like… matcha? Like bergamot and sweet orange flowers, with a hint of white chocolate shining through.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” He asks, brows moving to meet in the middle as Shae blinks up at him dazed.

Slowly, her head turns down, lifting her shirt up to get a decent look at her side.

A red bruise had already begun forming above her left hip where she’d fallen into the rounded rocks. Though nothing felt broken, it would undoubtedly take a few weeks to heal.

The spot was bound to get worse and more tender to the touch before it got any better, but it didn’t seem like anything to write home about.

Swallowing shallowly, she releases her soaked shirt and looks back up at him just as he begins ducking forward. Causing her muscles to lock, and breath to hitch as he edges closer and closer, ultimately bringing a hand to her hair.

Pulling back, he produces a brown leaf. Having detangled it from her curls, he holds it up for her to see, his lips pursing into a pout as he speaks. “Leaf.”

“Hm.” She answers weakly, catching his eye before speaking. “Marc’s going to fucking kill me.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Marc and Steven’s place is the closer alternative to bothering in going all the way home to change, before returning to work.

It was intended to be a quick stop, to allow Shae to take a shower and grab a change of clothes— nothing special.

And she hadn’t known what to expect, but as Steven opens the front door revealing a spotless apartment, painstakingly cleaned from top to bottom, she thinks that it certainly wasn’t this.

It even smelled amazing. Notes of bay, rosemary and lemon in the air.

“Wow.” Shae remarks in amazement, stepping further inside, allowing Steven to close the door behind her.

“This is... all Marc.” He admits, moving away from the door and making a right turn down a hall near the front entrance.

From where she stood, still dripping on the welcome mat, she could overlook the living room and kitchen easily.

The surrounding area wasn’t overwhelmingly spacious, but it wasn’t exactly small either.

There was enough room in the lounging area for an entertainment center, a nice coffee table and a modest, sectional couch. A sprawling bouquet of goldenrods glowed in the middle of the dark wooden dining table, the yellow flowers stretching out beautifully in the low light.

From down the hall, Steven flips on a light, the warm glow spilling out in an encompassing cone.

Some rustling could be heard. The loud clatter of a closing cabinet, and then suddenly he was bustling back out to the edge of the hall.

Steven looked around, only to find her where he’d left her, small droplets falling from her clothes and wetting the welcome mat in odd succession.

“Oh, right.” He nods, walking closer to her with an outstretched hand. “I’ll get you a towel, yeah? Here’s something for the pain, I usually take them for my migraines, but I think anything is better than nothing. Looked like that fall hurt quite a bit.” —depositing a white, oblong pill into her clammy palm.

Shae stares at it for a moment before looking up at him. “What is it?”

“Naproxen. Same as the over the counter kind, just a higher dosage. You don’t have to take it. I just thought-“

“This is fine.” She interrupts softly, the pair staring at each other before she adds. “Do you have any water that I can take this with?” And he nods quickly, moving into the kitchen and retrieving a bottled water from the pantry.

“And a towel..” He mumbles to himself after handing over the bottle, shuffling down the hall once again. Only to paddle back with a large yellow towel in his arms.

“Thanks.” Shae replies hoarsely, tilting her head back and swallowing the pill whole with a mouthful of water.

“Mm-hm.” He nods reassuringly, staring, again.

“...which bathroom can I use?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

steven—

The next time Steven hears the bathroom door open, he’s hunched over a basket of clean, but unsorted clothes.

Trying his best to differentiate the long-sleeve dress shirts from the plain, white tees and tangled pajama pants when Shae calls him from the hallway. Wary to poke her head into the room without announcing herself first.

“I’m in here!” He answers, unraveling another infuriating ball of shirts, brows knitted in the middle.

“What are you doing?” She asks, stepping past the threshold and immediately understanding what he’d meant when he’d stated that the state of the living area was all Marc’s doing.

Steven’s room was a seemingly functioning mess of dark wood and potted plants fitted anywhere vast towers of stacked books, clothes and various thrifted items weren’t already occupying.

It took all of a second for her to completely understand that he’d had no part to play in the enchanting and soothing nature of the first room. Save perhaps, picking out which plants were accented strategically throughout it.

“Well, I’m trying to find you something to wear. These are all clean…” —his words trailing off as he looks behind himself to find her with only a towel wrapped around her. “...by the way.”

“I can help.” She offers, her dark eyelashes fluttering softly as she blinked down at the pile, moving to kneel beside him without any further discussion.

Steven tries not to stare. He tries.

But in the end, his eyes make a deal with his brain to settle for ogling the more appropriate zones.

Like her arms, discovering new tattoos he hadn’t been able to see before under the shirts she wore for work. And the slope of her neck, tracking a few odd droplets which rolled across her skin.

His attention shifts towards her hands, small and soft. And he catches the way her fingers fumble with the fabric of his clothes, struggling even worse than he had to make sense of the twisting material.

It’s only when his eyes flit back up to her face that he notices how fuzzy she looks.

Her eyes blinking rapidly to focus on the task in front of her, her hands becoming clumsier and progressively uncoordinated by the second.

“Are.. Are you alright?” He asks, a concerned tone taking over as he observes her further, taking in her frustrated tugs and blinks.

“Yeah. I’m just— I started getting a bit sleepy. I guess the pain pill got to me more than I thought it would, but I’ll manage.” Shae answers, still blinking furiously as though she could simply will the medication to react differently in her system.

“Why don’t you take a rest, yeah? I can handle this.” He offers, but she doesn’t appear particularly keen on heeding his words, her lips fixing into a pink pout as she continues with no avail.

Relaxing his shoulders, he places a large hand gently on top of hers, halting her movements and forcing her to finally just sit with the feeling.

Her shoulders sag as she releases a frustrated exhale through her nose, allowing herself to close her eyes only momentarily.

Tilting his head into her line of sight, he catches her reluctant eye. And he knows he shouldn’t find this as cute as he does, but witnessing such deliberate defiance in such a small girl makes him have to bite back an adoring smile as he speaks, not wanting to antagonize her further.

“Niyah, I’ve got this. Have a rest, okay? I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Looking at him through her lashes, she holds his eye for a moment before breaking away from his gaze, just as her bottom lip becomes fitted between her teeth.

And he’s grateful for her sudden change in interest because his eyes flit to the movement of her lips for just a second, but just long enough to catch the sight for himself before he forces his mind to refocus.

Staring into a far off corner, at nothing in particular, she answers back quietly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Steven smiles, adoring the way her brows furrow in resistance even as she verbally concedes. Watching as Shae melts into the plush bedding almost immediately, her head sinking into her arms and her eyelids falling shut without any further protest.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steven forces himself to turn back around.

“What’s your favorite color, Niyah? I might have it laying around here somewhere.” He receives only a faint, questioning hum in response.

“Your favorite color?” He repeats softly.

“Oh.” Her words come out lazily, put together as they come to mind. “Bla— green… No, it’s black. I think.”

“Long sleeves or short?” He asks.

“Short.”

“What about bottoms?”

“Shorts.” She inhales deeply through her nose, settling her face further into the covers. “I want shorts.”

Brows furrowing, his lips set into a pout as he thinks on his wardrobe. “I- I don’t think I have any shorts… Niyah?” And when he turns around again, he finds that her eyes are serenely shut, chest rising and falling evenly as she soundly sleeps.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“What’s up, man?”

“Heeey, Marc.” Steven greets, moving into the hall and closing the door to his room where Shae slept, burrowing further underneath the blanket he’d placed on top of her.

“Uh, yeah. I’m calling because there was a bit of a dog related incident while we were out. Niyah’s fine, so don’t worry. But she did end up hurting her hip? We’re at the apartment now. I gave her one of my pain pills that I take for my headaches, so she’s sleepin’.”

From the other side of the line, Steven could hear a bit of shuffling, as though his brother had taken the phone from his ear, and then a faint. “It’s Steven. Can you handle the counter for a moment? Alright. Yeah. I’ll be back.”

There was a bit more shuffling before he came back to the phone. “Okay. Help me to understand this. You go out for lunch, that’s fine. Then there’s a ‘dog incident’? What happened?” Marc asks, getting into his serious older brother mindset. Steven could tell, even over the phone that the man’s brows were knitted, eyes narrowed and waiting.

“We got crepes. There was a park nearby, you know the one—“

“Yeah, I know it.”

“Well, Niyah kneels down to look at a group of baby ducklings, and suddenly, a golden retriever comes out of nowhere. It pounces on her, she loses her balance and gets knocked into the pond. It was a complete shock really.”

Marc sighs heavily, “Yeah, I’m sure it was. So you got her to the apartment, then what?”

“Uh, yeah. Her hip was starting to bruise really badly from where she’d knocked it against the rocks, so I gave her one of my naproxen.”

“So you, a man who weighs a good, let’s say, thirty pounds more than her— gave her the medication which was prescribed to work well with your system specifically?”

“Yeah.” Steven takes a moment of pause, nodding his head as he realizes what he had done. “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of it like that exactly.”

“I know you didn’t, buddy.” Marc replies tiredly.

“Well she’s just sleeping now. I can come back to the shop—“ Steven begins, running a hand through his hair.

“No. No!” Marc interrupts quickly, his voice rising briefly as he speaks.

“What? Why not?”

There’s more shuffling on the other side of the phone, Marc’s voice muffling briefly as though he were rubbing a hand over his face. Faintly in the background, Jake could be heard taking orders.

“You can’t just… leave her alone in the apartment like that, Steven. Look. Jake and I will handle closing tonight. Just… keep watch of her. Make sure she’s still breathing.”

“Wot?” Steven promptly pipes up, his neck craning as he processes his brother’s words. “Sorry… What? Is there actually a chance she could stop breathing?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

01.28.2021 - 1:45PM

shae—

Shae’s eyes open slowly, vision fuzzy, brain vaguely registering the warm hand that ghosts over her shoulder before promptly withdrawing.

“Hey, sleepyhead. I spoke with Marc. You don’t have to worry about him, he knows that this- well. It’s pretty much my fault, innit? He and Jake will close the shop, we just want you to rest this off, okay?”

Blinking up at him she faintly nods, eyelids falling shut only to flutter open repeatedly.

“I brought you some clothes. I’ve got the heating on but I doubt sleeping in a towel is very comfortable. I’ll step out to give you some privacy. Pop back in, in about ten-ish minutes.” Steven says softly, patting the bed one last time before shutting the door behind him.

With one eye open, Shae huffs into the blankets surrounding her, glaring at the articles of clothing that stand between her and falling back to sleep.

Sitting up is a draining task, but she manages it. Both eyes closed, head bobbing to the side as she pulls the covers off haphazardly. Quickly discarding the towel wrapped around her waist and allowing it to rest at the foot of the bed.

Yanking the change of clothes into her bare lap, she finally opens her eyes again. Relieved to find a simple white tee which would prove much easier to put on, unlike the many button downs Steven seemed to own.

Tugging on the shirt, she brings the bottoms closer to her face to inspect. Squinting at the article of clothing that appeared to be pajama pants cut at the mid thigh, the ends folded and offhandedly sewed to keep the edges from fraying.

Laying on her back, she folds herself in half, bringing her knees to her chest, feet dangling in the air as she struggles almost drunkenly for a moment to angle her feet into the openings before finally succeeding.

Falling back flatly against the bed and allowing her heavy eyelids to shut once again.

3:15PM

Slipping back into consciousness, Shae’s ears are met with gentle words. The voice soothing and sweet as he speaks, “I’ve adjusted the heat a bit more. I hope you’re warm.”

A hum resonates from her throat as she slips back out again.

5:27PM

In a few moments of wakefulness, Shae registers the empty chair where Steven had been sitting for the last… Well, she didn’t really know how long it’d been, if she was being honest.

All she knew, in this quiet moment of empty silence, was that he was no longer by her side. That fact, the glaring lack of his presence seemed to eat away at her peace of mind. Bothering her more than she could even fully understand.

Her voice when she goes to use it, is only semi cooperative, words forming and coming out just fine but the volume not quite carrying the way it normally would.

Her jumbled words fall past her lips low and faint, though she doesn’t stop. Eyelids fluttering open and shut as she mumbles incessantly.

Then suddenly he’s slipping past the door, water splashing from the mug he was holding and onto the front of his shirt as he slides into the room, eyes wide. A half eaten eclair propped between his lips, a little chocolate smudged on his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Steven asks, setting down his mug on the dresser closest to the door. Running a hand over the now dampened fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah.” She answers, feeling significantly soothed as he settles back into the chair beside where she lay.

11:11PM

A flash of blaring white bleeds through her eyelids, jarring Shae awake as she hears bodies shuffling into the room.

Bringing a hand to shield her eyes from the overhead light, she squints at the open door just as Jake sits onto the edge of the bed. The man bumping against her legs initially before adjusting, so that he wasn’t nearly sitting on them.

Marc stood in the doorway, arms folded, looking on with his usual severe expression. Watching unamused as Jake waved a to-go container in the air celebratorily.

“Got your favorite, lamb curry. Extra garlic naan, extra lamb.” He says looking down at her as she simply squints back. Her mind worked slowly, attempting to blink the sleep from her eyes.

“Not hungry.” She replies hoarsely, rubbing at her face with clumsy fingers.

Her dismissive statement however does little to sway the older man. Jake simply popping open the plastic top, before setting to work to free a spork from its wrappings. “That’s too bad, because you’re gonna eat. You’re not laying in here all night with nothing on your stomach. Now sit up, Mos. And don’t make me repeat myself, chiquita.”

01.29.2021 - 7:57AM

By morning the room is washed in a cool blue and Shae wakes up with a start. A feeling of implacable urgency hums through her as her eyes settle on one of the many clocks in Steven’s room.

The bright red numbers take a moment to process in her brain before she’s actively panicking, urgently propping herself up against the mattress.

Peaking over the edge of the bed, she’s met with the rare sight of Steven asleep.

Laying on his back, with his head thrown back against the blankets, he’d formed into a makeshift pallet. A pillow is wrenched in between his arms.

He’s all knitted brows and pink lips parted as he inaudibly breathes. His head of curls were even more of a mess than usual, black tufts pointed every-which-way, sticking up in any direction they pleased.

She’d heard by now how hard it was for him to get to sleep, but as she looks around the room again, unable to catch sight of her phone, she reaches a reluctant hand from underneath the covers.

Resting her palm tentatively onto his shoulder, to gently tug at the dark blue cotton long sleeve he’d worn to bed.

Steven stirs after a another persistent pull, his dark lashes fluttering open and an adorably groggy hum of acknowledgment sounds from his chest to meet her ears.

He looked undeniably pretty in this state. All pouty lipped and furrowed brows, clearly disgruntled to be suddenly awoken. But then his eyes shine with a glimmer of sleepy recognition upon waking up only to find Shae looking back at him and his face, still adorably pouty, visibly softens.

“Hey.” He greets in a whisper, resting his head back against his pillow as his eyes open and close gently, going back and forth between wanting to go back to sleep and wanting to hear what she had to say.

“It’s almost eight, the shop opens at seven. We’re late for work, and I don’t know where my phone is.” She answers, pulling off the covers to throw her legs over the side of the bed.

“Jake gave us til eleven.” He mumbles back in reply, closing his eyes and readjusting under his blankets. And lazily, he extended a finger towards the dresser near the door. “Your phone’s there, you left it on the bathroom sink yesterday.”

At this information her shoulders sag, her panic easing somewhat as she stares at him, his chest rising and falling evenly as he appears to already be slipping back into his dreamworld.

The only sound to be heard throughout the blue-lit space was that of his calm breathing, and that's when the events of yesterday begin to flood back into the forefront of her mind.

She’d been utterly humbled by a random canine, who apparently had been called to act upon some animalistic vendetta that had been placed on its dog heart.

And it’s at this moment she reasons that both dogs, and large ponds, will forever be on her own personal ‘avoid at all costs’ list.

Steven notably being excluded from said list, as she watches him quietly from her place on the bed-frameless mattress in his room. The box spring being the only thing separating the bed from the dark hardwood floor.

The pill had clearly been a bad idea on both of their parts, incapacitating her in a way neither of them had expected it to, or even remotely accounted for. But all in all, he’d taken care of her.

Steven had waited on her hand and foot, for nearly nineteen hours straight, never straying too far out earshot and kindly keeping her company as she repeatedly went in and out of consciousness.

Showing her a level of attentiveness she could honestly say she hadn’t experienced since she was 16 years old and her mother was still alive.

The internal admittance leaves her solemn in the morning quiet.

“Steven?” Shae speaks up, purposefully breaking the stillness and the train of thought her mind was going down.

A moment passes and she wonders if he’s already drifted back to sleep when he answers with another languid hum.

“Thank you.” She says earnestly, her voice faint as she’s not sure he’s even really listening. “For yesterday. You took care of me. I appreciate it… A lot.”

“You deserve it.” His words come out slurred, his heavy lidded eyes still shut, but he replies nonetheless. The nickname he’d crafted for her proceeding to fall off his lips in a way that makes her heart twinge.

Shae’s eyes remain trained on the man’s face as she doesn’t make a move for her phone. Instead choosing to fold herself back onto the bed, her nose sinking into the covers.

part iii. denial and familiarity

day 251.

steven—

“Hey.” Shae greets from the hallway, eyes mischievous and a pleased smirk forming on her lips as Steven pulls open the front door.

“Hi.” He answers faintly in return, stepping aside to grant her entry into his and his brother’s apartment as if it were second nature. Which it practically had become such since she’d begun assisting Marc in his role as the head baker.

Acting officially as his pastry sous chef, his second in command— which only meant, wherever Marc was nowadays, Shae was bound to never be too far off.

Steven could only vaguely recall how anxiety inducing it’d been to invite her into his dwelling for the first time.

Now, if he thought on it long enough, the space was more peculiar when she wasn’t gracing it with her wily presence and her intoxicatingly sensuous scent of rose, hyacinth and clover.

Perfuming their air with that rich, clean fragrance on early mornings like this to ride to work with Marc. Or just spend hours loitering in their kitchen, and on their couch.

Claiming a space in their lives with that same lazy surety a cat has in picking a home and simply deciding it wasn’t a stray anymore.

“Marc’s getting his work bag together, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“That’s cool. Y’know, I’m surprised to see you up so early. 2AM might be your personal best.” She comments, faintly trailing after him as he returns to his room, watching from the doorway as he places the last of his things into a duffel.

Steven was the only one of his father’s three remaining sons that bothered to go home regularly.

Although, maybe it was more of the fact that he was the only Spector boy that possessed the ability to stomach it all. That could survive the lengthy trip from Queens, NY to Chicago, walk into their childhood home and still be able to function in that space for a week, every other month.

Especially when the halls were haunted with memories of not one, but two familial ghosts.

“It’s not if you never actually go to sleep.” Marc comments in passing, setting his bag by the front door before heading towards the kitchen.

Steven’s eyes roll as he zips his duffel closed.

“What time’s your bus?” Shae asks as he moves to retrieve his shoes from the top shelf of his closet.

“4:15.” He replies, settling down on the edge of the bed. “Both Dad and Marc like getting the drive out of the way early. Whole family’s early birds except for me.”

“Well, I don’t know about your dad, but I’d say that Jake and Marc are just allergic to having downtime.” Shae says snickering as Marc speaks up from the kitchen.

“I heard that, smartass.” He calls dryly from the other room, not picking his head up from fixing his and Steven’s meals for the day.

“What do you think you have ears for, dumbass?” She snipes, causing Steven to release a soft huff of amusement.

“Wait!” Shae suddenly exclaims, making him pause just as he grabs ahold of his shoelaces. “Steven… Are those Chucks?”

Frozen like a deer in headlights, Steven looks back wide eyed, fully exposed.

He honestly hadn’t meant to grab the grayish teal converse. Wanting to have broken them in, instead of letting her see them practically fresh out of the box— brand new and so clearly influenced by the fact they were the exact brand she consistently rotated in her daily wardrobe.

“Yeah, I got them last Wednesday… for the trip.” He answers self-consciously, lying through his teeth about the last detail. Unsure and contemplating if he wanted to continue tying them, or switch them out entirely for a different pair, when she speaks up.

“They look good.” She comments appraisingly, lips pursed approvingly and head nodding as she adds, “They suit you.”

Steven continues tying up his laces, mumbling his thanks into the space separating them as he folds himself over his bent knees, busying himself with the task to keep his face momentarily hidden. Fully hoping the heat he was feeling in his cheeks wasn’t visible to her.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

day 293.

shae—

Standing behind the register, Jake whistles lowly as he eyes the figure of a woman walking past the cafe’s front windows, smirking widely as the stranger makes her way to the main entrance.

“Heads up, Mos. I’m shooting for cutie number 88 today.”

Tearing her eyes from the organized rows of flavored syrups, Shae focuses on her small stature and flowing brown curls with bleached blonde highlights peppered throughout.

She was beyond cute, Shae thought. Sitting somewhere between pretty and absolutely gorgeous.

All warm, glowy skin with glossed pink lips, dressed in a pastel pink bikini top with form-fitting jeans, the strings of her bikini bottoms tied into bows on either of her hips.

Moving her shades to sit at the top of her head, she approaches the register before Shae can formulate a reply to his statement.

“Welcome to the Bloom and Brew. What can I get for you today?” Jake greets, expression softening as he makes eye contact.

“One large iced mocha and a small nitro cold brew to-go, please.” She answers, the silver bracelets on her wrists sounding gently as she pulls her phone from her tote. “You guys take Apple Pay, right?”

“We do.” He answers with an easy nod, typing in her order before placing his undivided attention back onto her. “And… you got a name, honey?”

Her hazel eyes crinkle at the pet name, lips moving into an amused smile as she chuckles. “Cali.”

“Ah, entiendo.” He hums, finishing typing it in so that Shae could begin making the drinks. “Do I have a Columbian or a Californian girl on my hands then?”

“Columbian.” She’s smiling widely, happy for the opportunity to talk about her heritage. “My mom’s from DR though, what about you? Do you have a name, honey?”

Jake taps at the nametag pinned into his shirt with an extended finger in answer and noticeably only to Shae, not replying to the first question. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to a few other things. I’ll respond to anything you’d like.”

The line makes Shae roll her eyes so hard it actually hurts.

Thoroughly annoyed, but equally amazed as it appears to hit its intended mark with Cali. The girl looking progressively pleased the longer the interaction endured.

“That’ll be $13.55, sweetness.” He prompts, extending a thick finger to guide her to where she’d tap her phone. “Two drinks. Are you orderin’ for someone else by chance? Maybe… Me?”

Cali laughs again, narrowing her eyes playfully as she shakes her head.

She returned the favor as she merely pointed to one of the front windows.

Another young woman was waiting outside, preoccupied with her phone as she tapped at its screen. With a curly pixie cut slicked down, she was dressed in a black bikini set, a white beach shawl tied at her hips.

“It’s for my friend.”

“Then I’m guessing your friend wouldn’t be too hurt if I gave you this then.” He speaks with an intentional drawl, writing on the back of her receipt with a black ballpoint pen before handing it over to her smoothly.

She accepts it quietly, flipping it over to view the back side where he’d written it before looking up to catch his eye. He was looking back at her smugly, expectant and proud.

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, she holds his gaze as she unlocks her phone.

Jake’s smirk only grows as she quietly enters the number into the device, pointing the front camera towards him to snap a quick photo before sliding the receipt back over to him.

“I chose no receipt for a reason, sweetness.” She says, moving to accept the drinks from Shae with a smile before sending a final wink his way.

Jake watches her leave, waiting for the door to chime closed before he turns to Shae with a wide smile.

She audibly groans, slipping her fingers into her apron pocket to retrieve a clip of neatly folded cash. From the metal clip, she removes a single, crisp five dollar bill and extends it towards him.

He accepts it smugly.

“You can’t argue with results, Mos.” He says as happily as he was capable of. Tucking the bill into his wallet looking exceedingly self-congratulatorily.

“No. I can’t. But I stand by my belief, that one of these days... you’re gonna get turned down.” She says turning away, moving to clean her station. “And I’ll be there, laughing my little head off for every second of it.”

“You call that globe sitting on your shoulders little?” He asks rhetorically with a scoff, rolling his eyes.

“You’re competing with the fucking Epcot ball with that dome— la puta madre!“ His sentence is cut short as Shae suddenly rounds back in half the time, hopping up to wrap her arm around his throat and tugging him down harshly into a headlock.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

day 300.

steven—

“Do you ever get the impression that Niyah might be into girls?” Steven asks suddenly, breaking the silence in his and his brother’s apartment.

The noise of Marc rearranging the fridge to make room for this week’s groceries stops as the man freezes.

“Why are you asking me that?” He asks, voice apprehensive.

“Was just curious… I guess.”

“You know, normally you get that kind of information from the person themselves.” Marc says, face still, expression unreadable.

“I just thought you might know…” Steven watches as Marc sighs, the man resolving to return to his task.

“She’s queer, Steven. There's your answer.”

“Queer… right.” He replies, pretending he knew what the term fully meant.

“It sorta means she likes everybody. No matter what they identify as— Girl, guy, anybody. At least she has the capacity to. Doesn’t mean she’ll actually have a thing for everyone that breathes.”

“Right.” Steven nods, the silence resuming for a brief moment before he breaks it again. “What type of guys is she into? If you know.”

“I don’t know, man. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff.”

“Well, what do you talk about?”

“Baking. Who’s going to break first. How annoying she is. Baking again. Those kinda things.”

“Other than work.” Steven clarifies with knitted brows.

“I don’t know. Stuff?” Marc replies, shrugging his shoulders, quickly becoming frustrated. “Look, I answered your question. Let’s drop it. Alright? You wanna know so bad, ask her yourself. I doubt she’d mind talking about it.”

Steven purses his lips, stopping himself from rolling his eyes before resolving to turn back to unbagging the vegetables.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

day 328.

Rewrapping a bundle of twine, Steven looks up at the sound of footsteps, prepared to launch into his opening greeting when his eyes settle on Shae entering the flower shop.

“What’s up?” He asks as she shuffles forward, looking over her shoulder quickly, shielding a cinnamon roll on top of a napkin. “What’s this?”

“Snack heist.” Shae says in a stage whisper, a mischievous smile already on her face. “Heard from Marc that you came in a little later today and I know you never grab anything to eat so… I brought you this.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I really am working on it—“

“No, it’s okay, Steven.” She interrupts hurriedly, holding up the roll. “I made the batch this morning. So it’s not Marc’s handiwork, but it’s the same recipe. Tell me what you think when you can, huh? I can’t stay long, he already nags me enough as it is.”

“Okay.” He nods, accepting the treat with one hand before extending the other to stop her from leaving. “Thank you, by the way. It means a lot.”

And her eyes scan his face for a moment, irises glimmering a bit before she gives a shrug. A warm, lopsided grin replacing her usual playful expression. “Don’t mention it.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

day 488.

shae—

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Marc says suddenly, stirring a pot of cream of chicken soup and cooked rice. Breaking the comfortable silence that had taken over the apartment in Steven’s absence, effectively startling Shae out of her trance of watching him do the prep work for the cheesy chicken casserole they were having for dinner.

“What?” She asks confusedly, moving her hands from her lap to rest on the counter she currently sat atop. “Watching you cook? Do you want me to do it?”

“No.” He shakes his head, eyes stationary on the task in front of him. “Steven.”

“What am I doing with Steven? He’s not even here right now.”

Marc doesn’t answer right away, stirring the pot slowly as it begins to lightly bubble. “How long are you going to ignore that you like him?”

And maybe, if she were a better liar or more disingenuous, she’d have found something to say.

She might’ve laughed. Found some key way to have changed the subject.

Instead she just stares. Her ears, neck and cheeks erupting with illusionary flames of embarrassment as she processes the gravity of the statement.

Lifting his gaze, Marc immediately recognizes the abject fear clouding her eyes.

“It’s okay to like him, Shaeniyah.” He says plainly, watching the way she appears visibly thrown for a loop. “Come on, you can say something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” He answers, causing her to roll her eyes irritably. “I didn’t really think this far into the conversation.”

“What was the point of even bringing it up then?”

“Because you like him. I see how you look at him, talk to him. I mean, you bring him snacks when you think I’m not looking.” Shae’s stubborn grimace effectively melts away at that, craning her neck, eyes wide as he speaks.

“You- You know about that?”

“My brother practically wears his food from how messily he eats— of course I noticed. I’m not the one giving them to him, and it’s definitely not Jake. But that’s besides the point. You should trust him.”

“I trust him plenty.” She pouts, looking away.

“Then trust him with the truth.”

“You’re one to talk, Marc Spector.”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods, turning back to the soup and rice he’d been neglecting to stir. “Must let you know that you’re fucking up big time if I’m the one who felt the need to talk to you about it.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

day 561.

They’d gone out for drinks. Just a casual, friendly outing. Innocent really.

She’d just left him for a moment, venturing to the bar for extra maraschino cherries when she turned to the sight of him sitting in his seat, listening patiently as a blonde leaned against the table, positively beaming at him.

And for a moment he catches her eye before going back to whatever conversation he could possibly be having.

Shae turns back to the bar, breathing heavily through her nose as she places her hands on the wooden countertop, her thoughts running at a million per second.

There were a number of truths. First being, Steven was single. He wasn’t hers to demand the time of, there was no verbal agreement between them, demanding his attention and affections remain solely on her.

And second was that the same could be said for her.

Although before Steven, that fact had always brought her a modicum of relief. Now it just made her insides stir uneasily. Steven wasn’t hers… Steven.

He was the man she always wanted to see. The man whose voice made her smile and her stomach jump at the worst of times. He laughed at her lame jokes, never said no when she was having a bad day and made her feel at peace just by standing next to her.

Marc was right. She thinks, virtually kicking herself.

Marc was right, Steven made her life better. More exciting, vibrant and fresh— and here she was, with her back turned like an intimidated child while he got hit on. Frozen in place, second guessing everything.

If she could just turn around… if she could just get her limbs to cooperate.

“Gonna stand here forever?” Sounds a voice from the left side of her and her shoulders instantaneously sag. “Did you order somethin’ else?”

Shae merely shakes her head in answer as she feels life start back again. Watching as she seems to obtain control of her body and the things around her regain their color and focus.

“What are you waiting for then?” Steven pries.

“You looked busy.” Her tongue feels heavy, is that normal? “Didn’t want to intrude.”

He laughs airly, “Intrude? Oh, she was nice. I don’t think she would’ve minded. I mean I came here with you. If anyone was barging in, it wouldn’t have been you.” And that makes her feel better, despite herself? In spite of herself?

“Regardless, she looked like she was happy to talk to you.” Shae says, still pointedly looking at the various bottles on the shelf behind the bar.

“Yeah?” He asks, voice almost hopeful.

“Yeah.” She replies weakly.

“Well if that’s what you think. You might be right.” He continues, reaching a hand into the pocket of his dull, olive green corduroy pants like he was searching for something. His head tilted downwards. “Y’know before she left, she gave me somethin’ weird.

“It was a napkin. I thought she was just being polite since I’d spilled a bit of my drink but after she left, I noticed there was somethin’ written on it in blue ink.” Shae’s head turns on a swivel towards him, her body betraying her as her mind races. Did she—

Steven’s face is still tilted downwards, leaning a smidge towards the left as his eyes instantly meet with hers. Oh.

He was pulling her leg. Intentionally.

Shae’s head lulls back slightly in awe, in pure shock.

“You asshole.” The words fall past her lips in a faint whisper before she can even think better of it, watching dumbly as the corner of Steven’s lips tilt upwards for just a millisecond.

Removing his hand from his pocket, notably empty, Steven edges closer. All of his attention now focused on her. “I didn’t think I would be right, but I am, aren’t I?” He asks, his eyes tracing every inch of her face. Staring, in that way, again.

“About what?” She answers, looking up at him suspicious and wary. Her words coming out a bit mean, but he doesn’t appear swayed in the least.

“That you’re jealous.” A smile was working its way onto his face.

“Wha-“ She sputters defensively but he doesn’t give her a chance to find a way to work herself out of this.

“You were. You are.”

“I don’t know where this is coming from, Steven. But—“

“So you wouldn’t have minded if she had made out with me?” He asks suddenly, causing her to squint bewildered at him.

“Would you have even let her? I mean here? In front of all these people?”

“Not her.” He says simply, eyes clearer than Shae had ever seen them before. “There’s someone else who I’d prefer to do that with. And why not here? They’re just strangers.”

“Really?” She asks, unbelieving.

He nods. “Only if she’d have me, of course. I wasn’t so sure she would. But now…”

“What about now?”

“Now,” He takes one of her curls between his fingers, fitting it behind her ear. Eyes drifting to her lips, effectively putting her body on edge. “I’m thinkin’ maybe she’ll have me after all.”

And Shae chokes down a whimper. This didn’t feel real, maybe she’d wake up and this will have all been one long, tortuous dream.

Steven leans closer, “Will you?”

“Hm?” She hums noncommittally, entirely enraptured.

“Will you have me, Shaeniyah Moswen?”

Her face is twisted, pure agony written in the way her brows are tilted upwards, moving to meet in the middle. Her lips fixed into a grave downturned pout.

The average onlooker would be virtually unable to guess the exchange was anything in the realm of a love confession. With the way he’d fitted himself over her, cradling her jaw, she looks up at him as though she were physically pained by the weight of it all.

Her chest rises and falls heavily as they stand in a momentary stalemate. Steven, ever patient, watches her with gentle affection. Gliding the blunt tips of his nails through the hair above her ear in a soothing motion, lulling her into a feeling of security and safety.

“Will you have me, Niyah?” He repeats softly and she breathes shakily in through her nose before nodding quietly in agreement.

“Yeah.” She appears so innocently unaware in the way she simply blinks up at him when his face breaks into a loving smile of relief.

Steven chuckles softly, bending his head forward and bringing his chin to his chest, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. “Yes.” He whispers more to himself before looking back to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and maybe it’s silly, they’re already so entwined into one another’s space— his right hand cradling her jaw, the other ghosting against her left hip. Both of her hands were holding onto either of his arms, loosely clinging to him as they practically breathed the same air.

“Please.” She says in a nearly inaudible whisper but Steven catches it just fine.

Leaning forward, he holds her gaze right until their noses touch. And despite the silent whimper that sounds from her as their lips meet— Shae leans into the kiss.

Her fingers tug and pull at the fabric of his jacket, light gasps and inhales finding their way into the exchange as they play an odd game of give and take with their mouths.

Steven pulls back reluctantly, quietly chuckling at the way she chases after his lips, earning herself an additional chaste peck in direct reward for her sudden, unabashed neediness.

Resting his forehead against hers, he notes the fuzzy look in her eye, a smile growing on his face as he wraps his left arm around her waist to pull her in closer. Cherishing the quietly surprised but equally pleased, airy moan that slips past her lips.

“Feels like I’m dreaming.” He admits, breaking the relative silence between them. “I know that I’m not but.. I’ve thought about this moment for so long. I’m havin’ a hard time realizing it’s real.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” She asks softly, eyes not settling on one part of his face. Happy to finally be able to ogle as she pleased.

He nods against her, “Haven't you?”

And her brows furrow as she replies honestly, “All the time.”

part iv. brandy kisses & blush

day 662.

steven—

Standing at the flower shop’s cash wrap, Steven eyes the screen of his phone intently. Pressing the play button every fifteen seconds to restart the video from the beginning again.

He’s lost track of how many times he’s replayed it, how many times he’s ogled his girlfriend’s form from top to bottom.

Girlfriend, he could say that now— or for the last three months to be more precise. He tries not to be downright obnoxious with the term, doing his best to only use it when he deems it necessary. But sometimes he finds himself slipping, saying and thinking it multiple times a week, or day.

Although Steven doesn’t think anyone should be able to fault him for it, especially when said girlfriend was as much of a catch as Shaeniyah Etta Moswen was. He’d found out her middle name during a sporadic game of two truths, one lie and had held it close to his chest ever since.

He wholeheartedly adored her, catering to and indulging her a tad bit more than Jake and Marc thought he should most times, but she never asked for more than was well within his limits to give and Steven was always eager to please.

Today however, seemed to be the first time he considered that perhaps he’d been too easygoing, too forgiving.

The video she’d sent was innocent enough, just a short clip of Shae on her off day, kneeling to better angle her front camera towards one of the three cats she owned.

“Steven’s gonna stay the night, Margo. Did you know that?” She asks in the sweet voice she reserved primarily for her pets, running her free hand along the multicolored fur of the calico cat that only butts its head against her bare knee in answer. “Ohh, you’re excited aren’t you? Say ‘Hurry Steven, hurry!’”

It was short, adorable beyond belief really. And he couldn’t even enjoy it, thanks to the top she was wearing.

The dull olive fabric draped along her chest in an expansive V, nearing her midriff before dipping into pools around her folded legs. The garment was just long enough to keep her lower half covered. And on his fifth watch, Steven becomes convinced that she isn’t wearing any bottoms underneath.

“New shipment of bouquet wraps came in this morning.” Jake announces suddenly, placing a large cardboard box down onto the counter with a low thump.

“Sorry. What was that?” Steven asks, instantaneously locking his phone, having a hard time shaking the cloud that’d drawn over him.

“Bouquet wraps.” Jake repeats incredulously. “The ones you kept nagging me to order, remember? From last week.”

“Oh, right, right. Yeah.”

“What’s got you all spooked? Don’t tell me you’re nervous about tonight.”

“How do you know… about tonight?” Steven asks surprisedly.

Jake rolls his eyes, “How many people fucking work here? Everybody knows everything about everybody. You could tie your shoes a different way and I guarantee you I’d hear about it.”

“N- Not always.” Steven says quietly, not willing to admit that his brother was right, he wanted to at least maintain the illusion of privacy.

“Right...” Jake nods despite looking apprehensive, taking a moment to stare with narrowed eyes.

“What. What are you doing that for?”

“I’m looking at you because you look like you’re strung up. No, don’t shake your head— Your shoulders are to your ears, you can’t go over Mos’ like this.”

“Since when could you tell me where I can and can’t go?” Steven questions with knitted brows.

“Since you were born my fuckin’ brother. And no brother of mine is going over his girl's house looking like a pendejo. We’re going out for drinks before you go, me and you.”

“First off, that was a bit harsh, yeah? Second, um, no? I’m supposed to be at Niyah’s by-“

Jake interrupts him promptly with a dismissive hand. “She’s your girlfriend, not your parole officer. We’re going out for drinks. You’ll feel better about it later, you’ll see.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

shae—

Stepping up onto her tip-toes, Shae catches sight of Steven’s disorderly curls through the peephole.

He’s running a hand over his face when she settles back down onto the balls of her feet, moving to unlock the door. Triple checking to ensure none of the cats were near before opening it just wide enough for Steven to slip through.

She catches a whiff of him as he enters, pressing the door closed with her right shoulder as she looks up at him. A note of alcohol rang through the usual mix of floral scents that he generally sported due to his job— just a hint of brandy shining through.

“I thought you didn’t like brandy.” She comments with a pleased smile, looking over his clothes. He was wearing all dark tones today, an oversized plaid jacket over a button down and jeans folded at the ankles.

“I don’t.” Steven answers simply with a sniff. “It reminded me of you.”

“Yeah?” She asks, her smile widening as he steps close enough to lean over her. “How’s that?”

He doesn’t respond right away, eyes dark and clouded as he looks down at her top, rubbing the material between his fingertips. In person, he notices a detail he never had before. His attention settling on four tiny metal balls just barely visible through the paper thin fabric.

“You’d ordered it the night we first kissed.” He mumbles, dragging his eyes back to her face. Continuing before she can form a reply, resting both of his hands on her hips. “Do you remember that text you sent me earlier today?”

Shae’s expression waxes playful as he begins guiding her backwards, coaxing her further into her apartment. “I know of it.”

steven—

He hums at her response, his solemn features remaining composed and unreadable as he marches her backwards, step by step.

Once inside Shae’s room, he nudges the door closed behind them with his foot. Messy curls falling forward against his forehead, spiraling and twisting in whatever direction they pleased.

He’d grown accustomed to these four walls, the mix-matched fabrics of the curtains, rug and bedding. The space livened with pops of color in every corner, the windows lined with starter plants he’d assured her were failproof, even for beginners.

Steven sits at the edge of her bed, pulling Shae until she stands in front of him, her fingers carding through the soft curls at the base of his neck.

“Been thinking about you all day.” He confesses in a soft tone. “I mean I always think about you, but today it’s mainly because of this number right here.” And he tugs lightly at her top.

“You like it?” She asks, massaging his neck and shoulders.

“Yeah.” He nods, holding her eye as he leans forward, his mouth making contact with the skin exposed due to the low cut of the shirt. Lips warm as he mouths the valley of her chest messily, leaving a wet trail along her torso as he explores with his tongue and teeth.

Shae gasps sharply when he extends a hand, gently tweaking the bud of one of her pierced nipples through her shirt.

She cradles his head to her as his hands dip further down, the tips of his fingers easily slipping underneath the waistband of her underwear, holding steady as he looks her in the eye.

He grants her a pause long enough for her to object if she’d liked, but as she stares down at him, expression hiding thinly veiled desire, she gives a nod of her head and he’s slowly tugging the undergarment down her legs.

Steven detaches his mouth from her sternum, raising the hem of her top high enough to reveal her vulva.

Shae kept her mound neatly trimmed, the small patch of hair that was present was lined into a precise landing strip. He chuckles momentarily at the reveal, leaning forward to press an indulgent kiss against the plot of pubic hair, moving to kiss at either of her hip bones.

It happens quickly, one moment she’s standing in front of him and the next, she’s fallen face first into her duvet. Hooked under Steven’s right arm, her legs are thrown over his thighs as he runs his hands along her skin.

He hums shakily, a pleased sort of sound releasing from his throat. Grabbing handfuls of her ass, pulling and kneading as he saw fit.

“Thought about this part of you, too.” He admits, running the pad of his index finger along her entrance. “You, nice and spread out... Making you pay for having me work when all I wanted to do was get my hands on you. Do you think that’s fair, love? Hm?”

She’s at a loss for words, too caught up with the tantalizing prospect of Steven spending his entire shift thinking about her when a yelp is ripped from her lips.

Steven had… spanked her.

It was a swift but firm swat, one that had her reeling more from how unexpected her enjoyment of it was, than the actual intensity of the hit.

“I know you like giving me a hard time.“ He massages the afflicted spot, running a warm palm over the smooth cheek. “It’s okay. I like seeing you happy, it’s cute. But I’m still a man, love. Can’t always control how you make me feel.”

“Could only think of you.” He repeats, alternating how firmly and lightly he caressed the backs of her legs and thighs. “Wondering what shade of red I could get you… down here.”

She moans audibly, balling her hands into fists in her duvet as he slaps her ass again.

He does it again, and again, and again.

“You’re enjoying this too, aren’t you?” Steven asks after the seventh smack, the whole of his right palm colliding with her now blossoming skin, a steady heat rising to the surface.

“Ooh, you are.” He muses, dragging a thick finger through her folds, the digit coming away coated with her arousal. “Is this why you act up, love? Because you know you’ll like your punishments too?”

Shae tries in vain to restrain her voice, the attempt made difficult from the way he starts off by pressing his middle and ring finger inside of her cunt.

Beginning with a firm but languishing pace, he practically bends himself over her. Craning his neck forward to get a good view of how she takes him.

“Would you look at that...” He marvels outwardly, muttering more to himself than to Shae. Pulling at her entrance, he leans in even closer. “Are you closer to a pink amaryllis, or an oleander, I wonder.”

The room fills with erotically wet squelches and sloshes as he works her open with his fingers.

Steven has an inquisitive nature, inherently having the desire to become intimately aware of the limits of his new toy. Pulling and pushing her to new heights so that he could learn what made her melt in his hands.

He swiftly becomes intuitive with Shae’s body, learning how close he could rile her up without making her climax. Massaging her walls into malleable complacency, noticing how she constricts and pulses around him, not minding the way her limbs jolt underneath him.

By the time he removes his fingers from inside her, his wrist and forearm are drenched.

Shae rolls over onto her back when he releases his hold of her, airy hiccups sparking from her lips as he kneels onto the bed. She accepts him into her arms easily, despite her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She apologizes weakly, voice made raw and hoarse from her cries.

“Oh, I know. I know.” Steven coos sympathetically in reply, settling on top of her, peppering her overbitten lips with kisses. Pouring his affection from her mouth to her chin, neck and temple.

“Want my cock, darling? Think you’re up for it?” He asks, unable to fully conceal his amusement in wake of her newfound pliability. “I’m sure you want something to come around now, don’t you love?”

Their foreheads are near touching as she nods blearily, sniffling into what kisses he initiates, her arms weakly thrown around his neck.

“Oh, dear.” He all but swoons, capturing her mouth with his after a particularly powerful pang of affection courses through him.

shae—

She shuffles underneath him, moaning at the taste of alcohol on his tongue as he licks into her mouth unabashedly.

There’s a noise of rustling between them, a faint clinking of his belt as he unbuckles it.

Steven unzips his pants, moving his bottoms and underwear aside just enough to get his cock comfortably out. Allowing the material to bunch at his ass as he situates himself above her.

Hooking her legs around his hips, he lifts her lower half from off of the bed, elevating her cunt slightly as he tugs at his length.

Her clit aches at the mere sight of Steven, at the way he rests on his hackles, hair unruly and clothing disheveled as he prepares to fuck her.

“Hm?” He asks, eyes rising to her face in question and it’s only then that she realizes she’d spoken.

“Want you.” She confesses, trying not to feel overwhelmed with emotion.

“You’ve got me.” He reassures her with a lopsided smile that does little to necessarily calm her.

“Want you, want all of you.” And she can only guess that she looks as pained as she feels inside. Loving Steven resembled a wide set of claws, lashing around in the very center of her being. It didn’t feel like something that could be satiated or placated to— she just wanted him to pour into her and never stop.

Shae reaches a hand out and he quickly accepts it, bringing it to rest over his heart to feel the way it thudded in his chest.

“You got me, Niyah.” He whispers, leaning forward until he’s nuzzled into her neck.

“For good?” She asks amidst fresh tears, he was rubbing the tip of his cock along her entrance now.

“For as long as you’ll have me.” He answers pressing into her, the stretch has her gasping for air.

“I’ll always want you. I…” Her rambling gets cut off as he continues working his way into her, inch by inch. “Fuck.”

“You’re taking me so well, Niyah.” He praises her breathlessly, moving to rest his sweat lined forehead against hers. There was still a good three to two inches to go, the sheer girth of his length making it more challenging as she got closer to his base.

He thrusts once, twice, testing the glide— unable to wait until he’d filled her all the way. The tip of his cock was already rubbing along her g spot, curving slightly upward.

Steven gasps as she clenches around him, a warm gush of arousal easing the push and pull. He can’t help but thrust a little further, his hips moving on their own as he begins to get progressively lost in the feeling of her around him. “You’re so… feels so tight.”

Unsure where to settle them, Shae’s hands wander as he fucks her, drifting from his chest, to his neck and inevitably into his hair. Needily tugging at anything and everything she could get a decent grip on.

He breaks her down quickly, his thrusts gradually increasing in speed.

“Sh-, fuc-.” Shae pants, her moans nearing high pitched cries as the force behind Steven’s thrusts push her further up the bed. The woven headboard beginning to knock into the brick wall with each push of his hips.

“Needed this.” He says fully blissed out, messily mouthing at her neck. Soothing himself by biting at the skin there and she’s too far gone to warn him against leaving any marks. “Should’ve gotten you on my cock sooner. Would’ve fucked this needy cunt just how you wanted. Would’ve taken care of you—”

His fingers dig into her hips, with his cock buried as deep as it could go, he fucks her into the mattress at a pace so relentless, she’s seeing stars. “You’re not gonna let me go til I give you my cum huh, love? You’re squeezin’ me like you want it.”

“I wa-, I want it.” Shae whines out through choked gasps of air. “Cum in me, Steven. Wan- wanna feel you, baby, please.” And she swears she hears a noise oddly similar to a growl rumble from within him that sends a shiver down her back as he moves swiftly to capture her lips.

He’s kissing her less than he is panting into her mouth, sharing what little air they could. “You first.” Is all he says in answer, fitting a hand between them to rub at her clit with his thumb.

His touch is firm, borderline disorienting as he matches rotating circles with his thrusts.

Throwing her head back against the sheets, her ability to form sentences of any kind is misplaced. The man on top of her flooding her senses into overdrive, taking her beautiful working mind and putting it away for safekeeping, merely reducing her to a conduit for pleasure.

Black curls stick to his brow in coiling loops as he pulls their hips together repeatedly with ease. “Ah, that’s the look.” He comments appraisingly, taking in her blown pupils and glazed over stare.

“Let go, sweetheart. It’s okay, you can let go.” He encourages gently despite the unyielding force of how intensely he pounds into her, the room filled with the sound of their skin meeting. “Don’t you want to show me how you look when you cum?”

She sucks one good inhale in, her mouth fixing into an ‘O’ as her eyes fill with tears, but no sound leaves her lips as she comes undone.

Her hearing actually cuts out for a moment, the feeling wrecking through her is similar to a silent, steady rocking. An overwhelming blast of euphoria and serotonin assaulting her senses all at once.

And he fucks her through it, unable to contain his load as she convulses around his cock, squeezing him for all he was worth, down to the last drop.

Even as she comes back to herself, his hips are still moving, his eyes focusing down at where they met.

Without even having to look, Shae could feel it as he fucked his own cum from out of her. The man undoubtedly transfixed from the way their arousal mixed, the thought makes her walls clench around him and it’s only then that he looks up.

“Took me like a champ.” He praises, voice hoarse, leaning forward to pepper her cheeks with kisses. “You’re full of me.”

“Wanna stay like this.” Shae mumbles amidst the barrage of kisses, her voice barely there as she attempts to see through her tear matted lashes.

He smiles tenderly, kissing her on the lips again. “For as long as you’d like.”

“If you say that, I’ll have you end up moving in.” She answers, hooking her ankles at his back.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Shae wakes up the next morning thoroughly swaddled.

Steven was fitted along her back, pressed as close as he physically could be. The heat generated from his body rolled off of him in waves, though she appreciated it in the freezing climate of her air conditioned room.

Carefully, as one would fear disturbing a resting kitten— she extends an arm from underneath the covers, reaching for her phone that lay abandoned on the nightstand. Picking up the device with the maximum amount of delicacy.

The screen flashes on and she squints at the brightness, the time reading 10:16AM. Her shift wouldn’t start until 2PM, but she figured that getting the shower out of the way early couldn’t hurt.

She makes it six inches away before the hand around her waist tightens and she’s pulled right back to where she started, her back pressed flush against Steven’s chest.

“What time is it?” He asks groggily, nuzzling his face into her neck, his curls tickling her ear and cheek.

“Quarter past ten.” She replies with a sigh, twisting in his arms to face him.

He’s all messy hair and eyes closed as if he was still half asleep— he simply hums in response. Half in answer, half due to the hand she brings up to his chin, massaging the pad of her thumb over the more than present stubble growing in.

“Need to shave. I’ve been putting it off.” Steven mumbles despite the fact she hadn’t actually commented on it.

“I should get you one of those mechanical trimmers. Y’know the ones that spin? They get close but don’t completely get rid of the hair. I think it looks nice on you.”

“Aw, love. You don’t have to buy that for me.”

“Never said I was gonna buy it. I said I was gonna get one for you.” She corrects with a grin. “Could probably take one off of Jake’s hands. He seems like the type to have a bunch of different ones for no reason.”

“So you plan to steal it?” He asks, cracking an eye open amusedly.

“Um, I think the term is ‘redistributing wealth.’ It’s not like he’ll miss it, or anything.”

“Uh-huh. Or anything.” He smiles softly, unconvinced but doting as he leans in to pepper kisses at her cheek and neck. “Call it what you will, Robin Hood. You’re talking about committing premeditated petty theft.”

“You’ll never convict! You have no proof!” She laughs as he presses his lips to her face, pulling her closer to him just because he could.

Shying away from his wet kisses, her fingers drift up into his hair. Carding through his curls, her knuckles catch on a few strands, unintentionally tugging with enough firmness that he releases a low groan.

The sound insights butterflies, exciting her more than she thinks it should.

“Pull it again?” He asks and her brows crease at the request.

“Your hair, honey?”

“Yeah.” He answers with a nod.

Holding his gaze, she slowly closes her hand into a fist, scooping a clump of his hair into it. Experimentally, she tugs again, watching as his lips part.

“Do you… like that?” She asks quietly, in awe of him, which seemed to be quickly becoming a regular occurrence for her. There was always something new about Steven that left her reeling.

Leaning in, she presses a kiss against his lips before moving to sit up on her knees in bed. “Gotta get ready, baby” and yet again he stops her, hands grabbing her hips.

“Steven.” She laughs as he guides her to straddle him, lazily massaging her legs and waist.

“Just once...” He says a tad shyly and it's only then that she notices he’s urging her hips forward still, applying pressure to her lower half to get her where he wants. “Just once, love. And then you can get ready. Please?”

The implication leaves her stunned as she allows him to coax her forward until her knees were on either side of his head, her core mere inches away from his face as he eyed her rather greedily for someone who’d woken up only moments prior.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” She mumbles distractedly, catching the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“You won’t, I’ve got you.” He reassures, guiding her heat the rest of the way to his mouth.

“Steven—“

He wraps his lips around her clit immediately, lathering up the bud lovingly with his tongue in such a way that has her hands darting forward to grab onto the headboard for support.

It takes a moment for her to relax into the feeling of his mouth attached to her, the tip of his nose planted against her mound as his hands coax her into a bucking rhythm.

Though she could only see a small fraction of his face, she thinks he looks nice like this, with his pupils dilated and cheeks gaining a slight flush to them.

He gives her bundle of nerves an overwhelming amount of attention. Dutifully maintaining eye contact with her as he stops sucking, instead fanning out his tongue into a wide strip once he notices she no longer needs his help rutting into his mouth.

Her mouth parts, eyes beginning to sting with the beginnings of tears as the pleasure only seems to mount. Removing her hands from gripping the headboard— her right hand reaches behind herself, for one of Steven’s resting on the swell of her ass. Entwining her fingers with his, her left hand finds purchase in his unruly hair as she slides against his wet tongue.

steven—

Steven releases muffled groans at the way she pulls and tugs at him as she chases her climax. His mouth and chin thoroughly soaked with her arousal, stray droplets rolling down his jaw, leaving him drenched in her and there’s no other way he’d prefer it.

He looks up at her teary eyes, parted lips and spiraling curls curtaining the sides of her face— and his chest swells with unyielding affection and pride.

He was the one who got her this wound up. He was the one pleasuring her, loving her. That was something that brought him great satisfaction.

As she comes, her hips still but he keeps the same pace, working her through it with firm licks until she’s curling into herself and actively pulling away from his mouth.

Her breathing is ragged, cheeks flushed and limbs temporarily uncoordinated. He plants one final kiss on the inside of her thigh before helping her slide back down his form just enough so that he could sit up against the pillows.

Shae nuzzles into his chest the first chance she gets, cupping his shoulders and neck before the palm of her right hand comes up to wipe at his lips and chin. He allows her fuss over him momentarily, eyes trained on her every move, fully enamored.

He takes her chin between his right thumb and index finger, quietly bringing her mouth to his.

Her lashes flutter open when he pulls away slowly, her head tilting downwards, attention shifting to look at where she sat in his lap.

His cock twitches against the restraints of his boxers, hardened and throbbing as a patch of wetness gradually grows where the head lay.

“Can I?” Shae asks, looking up at him shyly. He nods in answer, watching as she pulls his underwear down just enough that his length springs free, slapping against his stomach.

Head falling back against the pillows propping him up, he releases an airy sigh when her hand wraps around him. Tentative and curious fingers gripping at his shaft to pull back his foreskin, smearing a new bead of precum along the reddened cap with the pad of her thumb.

“You don’t have to do anyth-,” He abruptly trails off, distracted by the way she presses his length against her puffy folds, wetting him with the warm mixture of saliva and arousal slick between her legs.

Shae moans when the tip of his cock briefly catches against her entrance. The prospect of having him inside her again, even after such a small window of time, appears to excite her as her breathing quickens.

“Would it be okay to…” She asks, occupied with the feeling of teasing her hole with the head of his cock. Steven groans at the way she clenches around nothing, seeming so desperate to be stretched open again.

“I’ll give you anything you want, Niyah. Anything.” He confesses, chest rising and falling in great heaves he was attempting to calm, wanting to let her know that he’d be fine even if she didn’t go all the way. She, however, accepts that as a means to continue, releasing a seemingly pleased sigh as she lowers down onto him.

Steven bites harshly into his lower lip, brows knitting and hands hovering hesitantly at her hips as she sinks further down. It became increasingly hard for him to form comprehensive thoughts when she squeezed and pulsated around him so desperately.

A gush of arousal slides along his length, and he just manages to hold in an almost pained wail, his muscles straining from this ultimate display of restraint. There was still a good three inches to go but he focused on his breathing, purposefully ignoring the urge to pull her down onto him the remaining distance that licked at his heels.

He allows her to set the pace that worked for her, her thighs tensing as she rides him, settling more into a wanton grind than moving in an up-and-down motion.

Her hands wander, from his chest, to his face, to the headboard behind him— unable to settle in one spot for long.

“Is this alright?” She asks breathlessly.

“Perfect.” He nods, dark curls beginning to stick to his forehead. “You’re a dream. Still not too sure you’re real.” He says, kissing her cheeks wherever he feels so inclined. The affection makes her whine.

“Nev—” Her words momentarily interrupted when the head of his cock nudges her walls at just the right angle. “Never done this before. ‘Ts my first time.”

“You’ve never ridden anyone before?” He asks stunned, eyes widening as she shakes her head, more arousal flooding his shaft.

“This is my first time, wanna make sure I’m doing it right.”

And perhaps he could’ve taken this information better, but Steven’s brain short circuits, and he’s unable to stop himself from wrapping his left arm around her shoulders.

With his cock still inside of her, he flips her down onto her back so that she’s tucked into his left side as he begins thrusting feverishly.

“Wanted to ride you more.” She indignantly protests amidst the moans he fucks out of her, her brows attempting to furrow unhappily. Although he watches as the euphoria appears to prevail and her face becomes racked with undeniable pleasure.

Left arm cradling her shoulders, he presses her knees to her chest by wrapping his right arm around the backs of her thighs, effectively locking her into a fetal position as he fucks her.

“I know you did, love. You were doing so good too. This cunt is so good for me, only fucked it twice now and it’s opening up for me so nicely.” He begins to ramble as the sounds of his bare hips meeting hers fill the room alongside her cries.

“You’re such a good girl letting me fuck you like this instead of getting ready for work. Didn’t you want to get dressed a moment ago? Want me to stop, sweetheart?” He asks with no real intention to follow through with it, fully enjoying the way she begins clinging to him desperately at even the thought of separating from him now.

“Want you, Steven! Wanna cum!” Shae speaks through warbled breaths, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to speak from how fast he was slamming into her in this bent position. Her whole form getting rocked in his arms as he worked her onto him— pussy now sloppy, wet and wholly malleable for him to do as he pleased with.

“You’re already soaking me, are you gonna wet it more? Fuc-, I can feel you gripping me everytime I pull out.” He continues, pressing kisses into her hairline. “You can do it. C’mon, give it to me, Niyah. Cum for me, lovely girl.”

Her orgasm seems to hit her all at once, eyes screwing tightly shut as he works her through it with firm thrusts and a soothing voice rumbling near her ear. “That’s it, that’s it. So good for me. So good, let it all out, love.”

He doesn’t think she realizes that she’s squirting, too thoroughly wrapped up her climax to register the waves of arousal that shoot out of her in turrets. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Squeezing me so tight... Want more, don’t you?” He pants heavily, looking over her face. The pleasure had washed out her features, leaving only his beautiful, needy girl behind.

His thrusts don’t halt, instead slowing into a lazy jerk of his hips as he feels his limit approaching as well, sitting on just the horizon for him.

“Gon-“ His breath hitches. “Gonna cum, where do you want it?” He asks as she presses kisses against his lips and chin, missing the mark a few times.

“In, hah- Inside. Want it inside.” And he moans. His lips smearing against her cheek, their foreheads touching as he holds her to him desperately, his hips beginning to pick up speed again. Fully chasing his finish now with reckless abandon.

“Favorite, favorite girl.” He mumbles borderline deliriously, rambling needily again. “Gonna have you full of me… Fuc- fuck. You’d look so pretty with a swollen tummy. Don’t wanna even pull out when I’m done, wanna keep you under me. You’d like that wouldn’t you, love?”

Shae whines at the prospect, holding onto him as the only stable thing available to her. Walls clenching around him one final time before he’s spilling into her, sheathing himself fully as he fills her til he’s empty. Hips stuttering when he’s done.

“I should get a plug for you.” He mumbles, eyes closed and face buried in her neck. “Have you going to work with me still inside of you, no one would know but us.”

“Steven.. fuck.” Her fingers find their way back into his hair.

“You like that idea, don’t you? Can feel you squeezing me everytime I mention it.”

“I like it…” She admits demurely, eying the ceiling. “It’s just that it’s a little embarrassing.”

“That you like being full of me?” He asks, lifting his head to look at her.

She clenches again.

“Steven-nnn.”

And he smiles. “Nothing embarrassing about that, love. ‘Ts just me.” His fingers tracing her hips lightly.

“If it was up to you, I bet I’d end up pregnant by next month.” She huffs with a laugh, bringing her hands to her face. And although it’s starting to soften, his cock gives a faint jump, just noticeable in her sensitive state.

She freezes, peeking through her fingers at him. He offers only a bashful smile.

“I know it’s a bit soon,” he starts.

“A bit, yeah.”

“But I can’t lie that I’m into it. It’s just a thought though.”

Shae purses her lips, biting the inside of her cheek. “Maybe… eventually.”

“Yeah?” He asks, eyes widening a bit. Hopeful. “You think so?”

“Yeah.”