Summary: Steve is late to work yet AGAIN and his devilishly handsome boss has a few words for him...
Warnings: LOTS AND LOTS OF SMUT. Like this is some rated-R type shit so grab your bibles and holy water because you're really going to need it
Word Count: 2956
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Tired blue eyes snapped open, natural light filling Steve's vision instantly. A hefty hand slid across his features, attempting to rub away any remnants of sleep. With a groan, he rolled over and reached for his phone. He turned the slender device on, and his eyes widened in panic. It was 8:20 a.m. He had only ten minutes to get to work.
In a flash, he was out of bed, stumbling into a pair of black wrinkled slacks that he wasn't going to bother ironing, and a stained white button-down shirt. He sat down on his unruly bed and put on his socks and shoes, all while calling his bestfriend, Sam Wilson.
"Sam, why the hell didn't you call me! I woke up late.
"Um I don't remember being your personal alarm, Steve. And I did like, 5 times. Can't help that you sleep like a log."
Steve removed the phone from his ear and pulled down his notification bar. Sure enough, there was 5 missed calls from "BirdBrain". He groaned as Sam chuckled from the other end.
"Ok, ok it is my fault," Steve sighed as he quickly and sloppily put on his tie. "Just cover for me if you can, okay? I don't need Boss on my ass."
"Steve, we both know you want Boss in your as-"
Steve hung up abruptly, shaking his head as he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.
3 mins later, he was hurrying down the front steps of his 7-story apartment building, blending in with the sea of other New Yorkers whose work day was also beginning. Steve kept his head down, eyes glued to his phone, as his mind drifted back to what Sam said on the phone. He wasn't lying either. Steve has had a crush on his boss, James Barnes, pretty much since he first got hired at the newspaper place drawing political cartoons. With his thick chestnut waves, steel blue eyes, a slightly toned and tanned bod, he was Steve's dream guy. Not to mention his charming Romanian accent. That always got Steve rolling.
He was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by a rude pedestrian that bumped him harshly, yelling at him to watch where he's going. Steve's mouth twitched, itching to yell something back. He decided against it; he didn't have time today.
He sprinted the rest of the way to his job, which was a 12-story building, all glass and metal. He worked on the 5th floor.
After he passed security, he barreled toward the elevator, which, luckily, was empty, and begin pressing the button labeled 5 frantically. The elevator doors closed and it begin to move up, at the pace of a snail, in Steve's perspective.
The elevator finally reached it's destination, the doors opening to reveal a calm-looking Steve. He peered into the room, which was filled with the sound of computer keys being clicked at and the fresh stench of newspaper ink. No one had noticed him yet. And he could hear Sam's loud voice talking to the Boss. If he could just slip in without being seen, it would fine.
He slithered out of the elevator, his back and hands pressed against the wall. He inched forward ever so slowly, until there was no more wall, only a series of wide windows.
YOU ARE READING
Stucky (OneShots)(Requests Closed)
Hayran KurguFull creds to the artist of the story cover💗
