𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖫 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗁𝗍𝗍𝗍?
𝔇𝔬𝔏𝔏 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : ǫᴜɪᴄᴋ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ!! ɪ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ ɪ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ's ᴀsᴋᴋss!! ɪ ᴀʟsᴏ sᴜᴄᴋᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɴsғᴡ sᴏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇs!
You should knock anymore. He wouldn't hear it over the sound of his own racing thoughts anyway.
The door clicks shut, a small tsk pops from it. He doesn't flinch, doesn't turn. The tension in his shoulders actually tightens. How much stress does he give himself?
You slide one palm flat against the leather headrest and lean down until your lips brush the shell of his ear.
"Still pretending you're going to finish this tonight? Your eyes are bloodshot, baby"
"I am finishing it," he snaps, his voice raspy but maintaining that softness he trys to hold for you.
"Go to bed... I.. Eugh.." His hand finding itself in his hair tugging it rather harshly.
"I'll help you." You smile against his neck.
Your free hand finds his shirt and unbuttons it loose. He lets out a shaky huff but doesn't stop you. his muffled whispers continued as your hands reach to his skin. Your fingers are at his collar dragging your hand inside the opened shirt and your thumb circles one nipple with lazy, maddening patience.
A single, shaky exhale finally betrays the wall he’s built.
"There it is, my good boy" you murmur, pleased.
"You're insufferable," he sighed. His eyes drating towards your touch and the paperwork.
"And you're hard." Your palm settles over the obvious bulge in his tailored trousers, giving it one firm, slow squeeze that makes his fingers stutter over the keys. "So maybe we're both struggling with focus."
He hisses through his teeth, hips twitching upward despite his best efforts to remain concentrated.
you don't tease for long (despite your urge to) you know he needs the release more. When you tug his Trousers and briefs far enough down his Thigh, he springs free, already flushed dark and leaking at the tip.
His knuckles go white as he grips the armrests, slight whimpers coming out due to the lack of clothing.
"Keep working," you command gently.
He trys, but his eyes fluttering close once in a while, hips bucking for friction, his hands shaking slightly for something he doesn't even know for. 
You pull his chair back slightly, before sinking to your knees.
The moment your tongue touches him, he chokes on a curse, quiet and strangled, nothing like the workaholic a few minutes earlier.
"You're... Hm..," a low, frustrated rumbles in his throat refused to come out fully. You hum in agreement and swallow him down in one smooth glide.
His head drops forward, forehead thumping against the desk edge. His paperwork is finally forgotten. One of his hands are now gripping the edge of the wood like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. While the other covering his own mouth. You continue with slow, deep pulls, tongue curling on the upstroke, one hand stroking soothing circles into the trembling muscle of his inner thigh.
"Why don't you thank me?" blabbers of thank you came out, most of them muffled due to his hand.
"Thank-hm-you..thank yo-hmm baby.."
"Good boy."
He shudders violently at the praise. You reward him by taking him to the back of your throat and holding there until his hips jerk helplessly. When you finally pull back, he's panting, blown, the "overworked executive" completely replaced by a man coming apart at the seams.
You wipe your mouth, and wrap your hand around his length.
"I wanna hear you"
"You're insane," he laughs coming out shaky.
You move your hand, going quicker as time goes on, and his laugh fractures into a moan.
Every time you move, the desk creaks, and his breathing hitches higher. His words becomes total nonsense. You don't care. You just keep the rhythm steady and deep, one hand braced beside his, the other wrapped around him.
When he starts to tremble in earnest—when the little punched-out "ah—ah—" sounds turn into your name—you know his stubbornness has finally met its match. You press your lips to his tip.
"Cum for me. Right here. Forget the work."
That does it. He cums with his whole body, his back arching, thighs shaking, a choked cry muffled against his own sleeve. You feel him pulse around you.
For several long seconds, the only sounds are harsh breathing, and you standing up.
"...im never allowing you back in here..."
You slaugh against his shoulder, kissing the sweat-damp skin.
"I'd said I'll help you, never said what way"
He huffs, but when you finally pull out and help him straighten, he leans back into you, finally letting someone else carry the weight for a while.
All your favorites!
(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʀɪʟɪɴɢs <3
