Work Text:
“Are you an idiot?”
You look up from your paperwork, office phone wedged between your ear and shoulder. You hesitate before pulling the phone away from your ear.
“W-what?” His harsh tone takes all your attention.
He’s been harsh on you since you started.
“Don’t approve a case without coming to me first.”
“I sent you an email.” You defend yourself. Your fingers twitching nervously around your pen.
“And then you’re supposed to come to me. You report to me.” He’s leaning into your desk, forcing you to lean back out of fear. What would he do?
What wouldn’t he do?
“You call me.”
“I emailed you. You…you responded.” You said.
“It’s an automatic response, did you even read it or did you just assume I’d take the case?”
“I-“
The silence is long and drawn out, your heartbeat like ripples over a lake.
“Yes?” He urges you to answer.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice shakes.
“Stand up.” He waves his hand impatiently.
“I-I said I’m sorry…” you push back in your chair, your heels beneath the desk and just your sock clad feed on the carpet.” I didn’t mean to…”
“But you did. You know I’m stressed enough, now I have to deal with your incompetence.”
You didn’t stand up, so he leans over you, locking you in the desk and pushing your chair so close the desk digs into you.
He clicks through your applications and scroll down your emails.
He grabs your jaw, forcing you to lift your head up. You can’t hide from your shame, he makes you look at the computer. His large hand nearly enveloping your face as he scrolls down the email to the automatic response.
“You need to make sure you read every fucking word I type to you. You need to memorize my emails like a scripture. Otherwise, what use do I have for you?”
He leans closer.
“Read it, out loud. And you tell me if that sounds like I approved it.”
“I’m sorry…” you begin to plead for forgiveness, he was so close you could smell his cologne. The faint scent of office paper and agitation.
“Read.” His lips touched your ear, his voice flowing in like a threat. His hand slowly moved down to your neck, just a paperweight on your throat.
“I-I need my glasses.”
“No you don’t.” His hand went further, further down until he touched your knee. His fingers slowly stroking up your inner thigh and making you shiver.
“Can you read?” He asked. A teasing, derogatory question.
“Hello,” you began, and his hand didn’t stop. You look down with a shaky breath as your skirt bunched up, his hand dangerously close to your panties.
You clenched your thighs shut, squirming in your seat.
“Sit still.” His voice thick, so close you feel it wrap around your brain.
“Why do you always pick on me?” Your voice shakes.
“That’s not what the message says, does it?” His fingers press against your damp panties, pressing until your hips buck forward.
“You’re welcome to tell me to stop.”
You pant, his fingers slowly pushing the damp fabric to the side, giving you a moment to refuse. If you have the willpower.
Obviously you don’t.
“Start right there.” He points to the screen. The second line down from the greeting.
“Read it.”
“This is Hiromi Higuruma. I’m currently not in the office—“
“Mmm, feels good?” He asked as your voice hiccuped, the chuckle against your neck as he kissed down, teeth scraping your hot skin.
“I will get back to you as soon as possible. For urgent matters, please call extension 42518.” You breathe out heavily, chest rising back up like a rocket as his finger dipped inside, long and thick.
“Does that sound like a confirmation?”
“I’m sorry, I must’ve overlooked it.” You arched your back, his finger curling up deliciously, bringing some breathless gasps into the warm air. Your voice is strained and meek and worthless in his presence.
“That’s the problem. You didn’t read it.”
“I’m—“ you breathe in, beginning to apologize for the millionth time. It only makes him smirk.
“Bad girl.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he slowly stretched you with a second finger.” When you don’t take your time, you mess things up. And that messes my things up, you understand?”
You grab his arm as you look down at his fingers pumping in and out, gaining speed, faster, faster until the lewd wetness reaches your ears.
“Fuck….” Your head leans back.
“Now, how about I show you an example of a confirmation email.”
He clicks and scrolls through your email until he finds one from about two weeks ago. He clicks on it, opening it up to his response.
“Read that for me, pretty girl.”
Your nails dig into his sleeve, pulling and tugging as the electric shock of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You buck like an angry bull.
“Hiromi, please!” Your voice strained, clawing at his arm as you turn to look up at him. So close but he won’t let you have it.
“Read it.” He roughly turns your head to the screen. His arm working quick between your legs, you feel his muscles twitch with every thrust, aiming at the same spot that makes your hips squirm and buck away.
“Y/n.” You begin, but your throat is dry and hoarse, trembling as your stomach grows tight. He holds your neck, his lips kissing the free space between his fingers, teeth nipping and scraping your skin.
“Mhm.” He encourages you to keep reading, a devilish glare in his eyes as he looks at the screen.
“I will contact them…as soon as possible. Please give Mr. Takeda my extension and schedule for now.”
“Now, isn’t that more direct than the first one?” His condescending tone unfortunately made you quiver around his fingers.
“I get it!” You whine impatiently. You just want to come, you can feel it in your throat. Each curl of his finger sends white hot pleasure through your spine.
“Don’t get fucking snappy with me.” He squeezes, following your movements as you buck from the pleasure, getting closer and closer and his thumb pressing against your clit becomes too much too quickly. His fingers working in tandem pumping against that same spot, curling and thrusting until you cry.
“Don’t you ever snap at me, you understand me?” His pace is brutal and punishing.
“Answer me.” He snapped against your ear.
“Ok! Ok!” You gasp out. Your thighs clenching tight around his wrist as you come, squeezing around his fingers tightly. Your orgasm pushed his fingers out.
But he didn’t stop. He held your trembling body, overpowering you with just one hand while the other kept rubbing your clit, struggling with you and opening your legs back up until you’re fucking hitting his arm. He elongates your orgasm to hell, your strangled cries, your body tense like a coil as each wave beats you on the head like a bat. It feels so good, your chest heaving, hair disheveled, chin spit slicked with your own drool.
Defeat, a stream escaping your cunt. Wetting your calves down to your socks.
You pant, the pleasure slowly ebbing away as he pulled his hand from your clenched thighs.
His wet hand grabbed your face. You smell yourself arousal on his hand. He then slipped his thumb through your lips, letting you taste yourself.
“I’m glad we could have this talk. Make sure you come to me in the future.”
He withdrew his thumb from your lips, looking down at your streaked eyes and smeared lipgloss.
“Yes sir…”