Work Text:
We were out of iced coffee.
Making a pot of coffee isn’t really much of a chore, everything before 8 is a mountain and I’d already climbed several mountains already this morning. The apartment was a bit of a mess but depression will do that to you. I tried to find the two least dirty glasses and that took an embarrassing amount of time. Luckily though, I’d remembered to refill the ice tray. Pushing aside boxes to make counter space I discovered a secret prize: an unopened sleeve of pop-tarts!
I watched the traffic on the street below while waiting for the telling scream of the moka pot. It was there that I found my morning entertainment: a particularly loud and angry man yelling at someone or something. Or maybe God, whose to say? The kitchen was filled with the sounds of Astronoid, their 2016 release, was likely much more calming than the screams below. Until the moka pot interrupted that with their signal.
Some ice and creamer later: voila. Breakfast is served!
The landing upstairs divided two very different worlds behind adjacent doors: a comforting bed that my body yearned for and the other was the prison called work. Alas, some choices are made for you. I peered into the bedroom trying to see if she’d awakened yet and the mess of copper hair and round lumps of bedding through a barely illuminated break in curtains answered that question. The scene was entirely still, save the occasional fluttering of a crimson lock caused by the fan. I navigated the labyrinth of dirty laundry and books and then deposited her coffee on the nightstand: a wake up treat for my darling.
Then it happened: the most terrifying and cruelest thing. The sound that no one wants to hear, especially not in the morning having spent climbing figurative mountains. It makes one’s blood run cold and instills fear in the most stalwart of women: The Microsoft Teams notification sound.
Fuck! What the fuck did I do now? I’m not late, standup isn’t for over an hour, did I miss a training or… perhaps this is my notification not to even log in. I’m fired. Completely fucked.
All the worst thoughts had rushed to my head as I scurried into the room and read the fated message:
"Hey Emily"
… Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck do you want, it’s 7:54am and you drop a Hey Emily. Just tell me what you need, boomer. All things I wanted to type, but unfortunately I needed this job.
"Good morning, Robert. Need anything?"
I could pretend to have patience at least. I set down my coffee and slammed the curtain shut on the east-side window to stop the glaring sun from tormenting me: gingers and the sun don’t get along. Pop-tart still in my mouth, I sat down waiting.
Robert is typing…
If this is for nothing, I swear …I’ll do nothing but I’ll be irrationally upset. I tried my best not to throw tantrums, I wasn’t always successful. Maybe I could be productive while he types. My desk was a mess, the trash can was overflowing. Maybe I could get a trash bag to deal with this and tidy up a little bit before work. I wondered how long his message was going to be.
Robert is typing…
Fuck it. Let’s gather up some trash and be productive. Putting two goblins in the same apartment was a bad idea. It was my idea but it was still a bad one. This goblin decided to uncharacteristically gather up the piles of napkins from the dozens of doordash orders, entirely too many plastic cups from lattes… wait, maybe I should keep those napkins. You never know when you’ll need napkins. After grabbing several more cans of Monster energy and leftover ramen cups the bag was full. Let’s go downstairs.
A small trek downstairs later and I realized: the bin was full. Fuck, I should be responsible and actually take it out …but not like this. Half-dressed in my pajamas was probably not the best way to present oneself outside. Might as well also take out the pizza cartons in the living room while I was at it. First things first though: presentability. Whatever the fuck that meant. For this lazy goblin, an oversized hoodie will do the trick.
Luckily it was a very productive burst of energy: I had also managed to throw out the takeout that was sitting on the coffee table and also had put some of the clothes laying on the living room floor into the laundry hamper. What a productive morning. Oh fuck the message. I had completely forgotten about my stupid boomer co-worker.
I rushed back upstairs, the dumb thoughts returned: He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna make a joke during standup about me ignoring messages again and my boss will think I have been away from my computer again … again. I mean it’s not wrong, I guess.
After the frantic scramble, I looked to see whatever novel was awaiting me.
"I hope you have a good morning."
A heavy sigh left me as I slumped into my chair, a chair stolen from a previous job when we were told we were all working from home. This fucker is going to end me. I should take my meds. Back to the bedroom I went. I had already worked up a sweat and it was only getting hotter, there was only one working A/C window unit in this place and it wasn’t my office. The fans certainly weren’t going to be enough. I probably shouldn’t have put the hoodie on. One moment later I popped my meds and took the hoodie and shorts off. When I turned to go back to my office-prison I heard her voice.
“Emily, are you ok?”
I whirled about to see Liz reaching for her glasses. She was always so self-conscious about her appearance but it’s hard to convince her to see the angel that I saw. The cute round face that was framed by the copper tangle, the soft belly peeking out through the one-size-too-small tank top that barely contained her curves, the warm and inviting eyes: Gods she was beautiful. Her very disoriented expression changed to comfort when the world came into focus.
“I’m fine, just got distracted tidying up,” I responded as I reached over the bed to deliver her a deserved forehead kiss and then I reminded her, “Drink your coffee before the ice melts.”
She lit up with glee, rolling over to reach the glass of coffee.
“Love you, Em.”
“Love you too, Liz,” I said, returning to my office-prison. I was greeted by another message from my morning-foe, Robert.
"Do you have time for a quick call?"
He can’t be serious. I look like fuck-all and he always turns cameras on and it’s never a “quick” call. He always would derail the conversation to something pointlessly irrelevant. Then I have to brace for the inevitable “God is Good” bullshit.
"Can this wait until after standup? I need to put in my DevOps notes so Kyle doesn’t get mad at me again."
Waiting for his response, I decided to put on Deafhaven and check my mail. Perhaps it should have been an Opeth day. I couldn’t recall the last time I had listened to Damnation. Just something to listen to while I bullshit some notes so the directors wouldn’t get mad. Fucking fuck it was hot though. I was melting in here and the fan was directly on me.
"Tsk tsk, naughty naughty. You should remember to put in your notes before you log off each day. :) It’s ok, I won’t tell."
Barf. Barf. Barf. I wanted this conversation to be over. What do you even say to that? I know I’m supposed to put in my notes, I’m just bad at remembering to do it. I decided to just slap a laughing emoji on it and be done with it. The tedium of dealing with some of my co-workers: I deserved an award of sorts. Emily Walker: Tolerant of Boomers. I could hang that in my office.
Regardless, I decided that I should make myself not look like a sweaty unkempt dog and washed my face. Even the cool water wasn’t removing the flushed look: my cheeks were redder than my hair. Fuck, probably not fixing that before standup. Let’s slap on some eyeliner, brush my hair and call it a day.
Liz called out to me from the bedroom and between the sounds of the fan and the blackgaze I couldn’t make out what she said, stepping back into the bedroom I saw her backlit by the little crack of light between the curtains: a halo for my angel.
“Hey Em, do we have any more coffee?” her voice was slow, warm, adorable. I wanted to tell her yes, we have all the iced coffee in the world but that would be a lie.
“Sorry dear, we’re out. You can make another pot if you want,” she did not want to do that.
Her pouty face and whiny noise confirmed my theory.
“You can always go out and get some, I got standup soon so I don’t have time,” I said as I surveyed our bedroom. She had her ipad in bed, probably working on that book. … or posting on Ao3. Who was to say?
She frowned, clearly not wanting to take the advice.
“A girl is not fit to go outside,” she pleaded her case, “A girl is helplessly stuck in bed, the pillow monster has stricken her with paralysis. Only another iced coffee can free her.”
It still made me smile. I always liked it when she was silly, and she was silly often.
“A girl can perhaps defeat the pillow monster,” I countered, “I tell you what: after my standup I’ll venture into the heat wave and get us both some coffee, ok? Do you think you can survive that long?”
“How long?” she pouted, impatient.
“Longer if you complain,” I retorted, “Depends on how much time people waste with pleasantries.”
“Ok but what if I motivated you,” she said as she closed her ipad and her gorgeous legs slipped from the sheets as she crawled towards me. Gosh how I wanted her to just sit on my face. Fuck don’t think about that now, you have a meeting soon.
“Liz,” I said sternly.
“Dearest,” she whispered, looking up at me with pleading eyes. Her fingers reached to my waist, yearning to touch and more likely trying to remove what little I had on already.
Betrayal: I stepped away. Her mournful eyes looked up at me and shattered my heart. It was like saying no to a puppy dog after you accidentally said the word “walk.” I couldn’t leave her like this. I leaned down to match her eye level.
“Dearest. Love of my life. Gorgeous goddess. I want more than anything right now to kiss you, to fuck you senseless and after you’ve deserved it… get you a cute lil iced coffee,” the magic word “coffee” already returned the spark to her eyes. “But I got a meeting, ok? Just gotta wait until I’ve said my piece and maybe Kyle will tell me to drop from the call. All will be right as rain after that, love. Will you survive until then?”
Silently she nodded, her face full of hope.
“Good girl,” I said with a smirk, clearly not helping the situation. Liz had a few weaknesses and a praise kink surely was one of them.
Regardless, it seemed to do the trick. I checked the time: 8:52. Fuck. I hadn’t even started my DevOps notes. Fuck, what do I say now? I could feel my face had become flush again. Curse this useless mortal human body and its many unnecessary functions. Random bullshit, go.
My blood rushed again. The heavens fell and crushed my soul. The gods themselves came down and once more brought their mighty hammers, swords and divine lighting and racked my body with a pain known like nothing else: another Teams notification interrupted by music. Kyle. Oh fuck.
"Hey Emily, have you updated your work items on the sprint yet? I don’t see yesterday's DevOps notes?"
Yeah sorry, I forgot to hit save. Have you tried refreshing yet?
I hadn’t forgotten to save. I had just typed in random bullshit and hoped it was enough. Fuck, this morning was going to kill me. Stress can kill a person after all, I had read about it online.
"Thanks Emily. Try to remember to update them again before you log off today."
I was spared today. Perhaps the gods, in their mercy, saw fit to give me some earned forbearance. I had been very productive today after all and deserved a treat. And just like that the floor groaned and I heard steps: Liz was finally getting up. I caught a glimpse of her as she passed. Goddess, she had a great ass. Fuck. Ok focus, you just need to-
*Beep beep* Team Opal - Daily Standup has started. Microsoft Teams Meeting.
Mountains. So many mountains left to climb today and so many already surmounted and it was only 8:59. Oh well, time to turn off Deafheaven and be privy to the pre-meeting prattlings of my peers. Such joy.
Fishing trip photos: it was worse than I expected. Kyle was really proud of his boat and reminded us constantly that he owned one. Rich fuck. I’m not going to get through this meeting alive. Was Luna online today? Yes!
me: Guess what Boaty McBoatFace is talking about in standup?
L: Already? Didn’t your meeting just start?
me: Yup. I had barely clicked join meeting and we’re confronted with a giant mackerel.
L: I doubt it’s a mackerel. I don’t think Boaty takes his boat into saltwater.
me: You knew what the fuck I meant lol.
L: Also I don’t think he lives in an area where that would be viable for him anyway, even if he did.
me: Pedant.
L: :3 I can’t help it that I’m always right.
me: This is why your mistress clicker trained you.
“Emily?” asked Kyle, snapping me back to attention.
Fuck. I had forgotten that my camera was on. Fuck, I forgot that I was in a meeting.
“Yes sorry,” I apologized like a doormat, “What did you say?”
“Work item 37198,” he said flatly, not elaborating any further.
I responded in great detail, I think it was obvious that I was flustered and distracted. Robert did have the mercy to not bring up the fact I wasn’t being attentive to my messages today. Kyle seemed to consider my update satisfactory and moved onto Gene. I sighed the biggest sighs of relief and tried to keep a straight face for the rest of the meeting. Only 22 minutes left, assuming we used it all… or perhaps we’d go over today. I muted myself and attempted to pretend to be a human.
The bathroom door opened which signaled Liz would be returning to writing. I definitely deserved that second coffee after all this. Fuck, maybe I should stop by the bodega and get some Monster Coffees. Hell yeah. Maybe also get some-
My reverie was broken by something moving in the corner of my eye: Liz. in my office. Except she was barely clothed and only barely out of frame of my camera. I’d already appeared distracted already today, I didn’t need another distraction, no matter how tempting.
My forced smile was a show; I made a quick gesture off camera to shoo her away. But no, my hand was trapped by hers. She slowly fell to her knees, my hand still in hers and she moved it slowly to her lips.
Fuck, not now, not now, not now. Smile for the camera, eye contact. Don’t look at her, don’t look at her.
Fuck. I looked at her.
She looked so soft, so cozy, and so delicious. I bit my tongue and I did my best to be presentable to the meeting while we went over work items in the sprint. I could barely listen. Fuck she looked so hot on her knees, looking up at me. That angle always got me, her pleading eyes locked with mine.
Fuck, I looked again.
She decided it was time to use her tongue, trailing up and down my fingers with it. I had myself muted but I didn’t want to seem like I was talking, I feigned a cough and put my one free hand to my mouth.
“Liz, you fuck, my camera is on” I pleaded but my annoyance seemed only to fuel her.
I returned my free hand to the desk, my face returned to the stoic expressionless facade. An academy award or two of restraint trying not to show how I felt in that moment. I couldn’t focus on anything being said even if I had tried.
“Then I’ll just have to stay off camera,” she mused, taking an entire finger in her mouth for a moment, “Oooh, I know…”
My hand was freed from her clutches. Thank fuck. I returned it to the desk only to see her crawling under the desk. No no no, not now. Fuck.
I felt her hands caress my legs and her lips move up my thighs. Fuck, could I call in sick or something? Maybe a meteor fell on my apartment complex. I wasn’t sure which was more believable at the moment. I stole a glance below the desk to see copper curtains surrounding a bespectacled face inching closer to my core. Fuck, I wasn’t even wearing shorts. The situation was dire.
“Liz” I muttered, trying my best to look still focused on the call.
“Yes, my love?” she purred her hands moving to peel away the last defense preventing her from touching my- fuuuuck.
“Emily, did you have something to say?” a stern voice interjected. Fucking Kyle.
Did I say something? I was muted, obviously, but perhaps my camera was betraying me. Perhaps they knew.
“Yeah- no,” I stammered, trying to hold it together, “I’m fine. It’s just really hot in here, it’s a scorcher.”
It’s a scorcher? What the fuck was that. Who the fuck SAYS that anymore? I truly had lost my mind. Fuck, now I sounded like those boomers.
I hit the mute key again and they, luckily, went back to ignoring me. But Liz did not. Her hands were at my hips, and she began to tug at my blue hipster: the last line of defense against her voraciousness. I could have put up more of a fight if I wasn’t trying to look like a model employee on camera. It’s awfully hard to fight off a horny girlfriend while keeping a straight face. As if I could ever be straight.
One final tug and she had overcome the obstacle: the powder blue garment fell to the floor at my feet. I heard her giggle: mocking me for her own success in her sinister plan. Despite how quiet she was, it was the only thing I could process. I realized I’d lost my focus again and snapped my mind back to this world. Perhaps I could look like I was taking notes, nodding thoughtfully: Yes I am an employee who brings value to this fine company.
The distractions were only on hiatus for only a moment before she resumed. The devil on the floor was using her tongue, barely touching me but it was more than enough. I felt her grip as she moved me towards her lips so she could tease and trace. I lurched forward and stole a glance down between my legs: the copper-haired nymph with one hand grasping my cock and her lips gliding across it: a gloriously blissful torment. Her eyes locked with mine as she worked. Fuck how I wanted to grab her and just shove myself into her but time and place, girl time and place. Pretending that something fell off my desk and having a moment to retrieve it I leaned down to her.
“Girl you are so fucking nasty, I haven’t fucking showered today. Stop it!” I hissed.
“Stop acting like that’s a problem, dear, do you want me to stop?” she poked coyly.
“YES!!”
“Oh. Ok,” she responded flatly.
Then she proceeded to ignore that and took me in her mouth.
Fuck. I couldn’t control myself and to my bewilderment and horror in my throes of excitement I had kicked some of my cables, the webcam being knocked backwards behind the desk. If it fell at the right angle they’d get such a show: an HR nightmare to be sure. But no, thankfully only a blurry nothing. Behold: a close up view of my wall. Fuck, I should clean that.
“Emily?” Kyle pestered again, “is everything ok?”
I took a quick moment to fixate on Liz, “Behave for just one second, ok?”
She nodded obediently and I was granted a temporary reprieve.
“Yeah sorry, I dropped something and knocked more things over. My camera is like …gone now, I might have to move my desk,” I lied.
“That’s fine, you can go cam off,” he replied before immediately going back to whatever they were talking about without missing a beat.
My eyes flashed down to Liz and with no hesitation she went back to work. I had supposed resisting would only prolong the encounter. The meeting might be over soon and perhaps I could-
17 minutes left? It had only been 5 minutes since I had last looked? It felt like an eternity. An eternity of sweet torment and teasing that I wouldn’t have traded away.
Watching my gorgeous and insatiable girl was a sight: the bespectacled and serenely blue eyes looking up at me while her hungry mouth and tongue slid up and down my cock. Fuck, how was she always so gorgeous? I reached down and grabbed a lock of red hair and guided myself into her, rewarded with a gentle and playful Mmph from her. She was playing with herself with her other hand, whether she had just started doing this or had been doing so the whole time was a mystery to me.
Despite her bratty nature, Liz was more than easily controlled when you had your hand at her throat or were gripping her hair: the not-so-secret submissive button for her. I controlled her motion up and down my shaft, so willingly and eagerly taking the length.
“Good girl,” I purred to her encouragingly.
My only response was her muffled moans: a mouthful of girlcock makes it awfully hard to speak. A situation in which I had no rush or motivation to alter. My copper-haired goddess was now made to be a worshipper on her knees, serving me. Fuck, I was so hard. The cadence of her gasps and moans had drowned out everything. I was in a world that was just the two of us, and in this world I was fucking her face. The tether that bound me from that world to the real one jerked me back in the most harshest and cruelest of ways:
“Emily, do you have any other work items?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I had let go of her hair but she would not stop: she was determined. She wanted so desperately for me to come, and I did too. I was so close but there’s nothing less sexy on this planet than Kyle’s voice.
“Emily, you might still be muted,” He persisted. I was running out of time. I tried to get Liz’s attention but she wasn’t stopping. I grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her off me with a loud gasp from her. I held the panting, wet, submissive girlfriend in one hand while I unmuted my mic with my other free hand.
“Nope, I’m not juggling anything else at the moment.”
Another lie: I was definitely juggling things: a voracious horny writer and trying not to get fired.
“Good to know, you can drop if you have something pressing.”
“Thank you,” I said and I absolutely did.
Turning my gaze down I saw Liz waiting there, still fingering herself, moaning, mouth open, waiting eagerly for girlcock. Who was I to refuse her? No longer burdened by the constraints of “work” I thrust into her mouth, holding her head still as she obediently took every inch. Stuffing her throat with all of me I felt it rising in my core. So close to release, I buried her head between my legs and with a scream-like moan and a shudder that was felt in my whole body I was done. Fuck.
She was still there, stuck to my member greedily sucking. Eventually my senses returned: I heard the whirr of the fan, the distant sound of the music I had left on downstairs, the heavy panting of my ginger worshipper, still on her knees under my desk. It’s a good thing I tidied up earlier I suppose. Eventually she pulled herself away, several minutes after I had gone soft. She looked up at me, pleased, her mouth wide with giggles.
“You really are a bad girl,” I chastised.
“Not true,” she snarked joyfully, “I distinctly remember you calling me a good girl at least twice already.”
Fuck, she got me there.
“You deserve a turn now,” I remarked. When did she take her top off? Was it always off?
“Perhaps a girl already did but she’s always up for another round,” she remarked excitedly, crawling out from her den of sin beneath my desk.
“Another? You really fucking came down there?”
She nodded mischievously.
“You filthy slut. Let’s go.”
She scurried to the bedroom with an impish cackle and I stood up to follow, almost tripping over the blue cloth wrapped around my ankles.
Then it happened: the world shattered, a spike that could sunder the core of my every being. A thunder that knew no mercy and granted no quarter: Another Microsoft Teams notification. The rising infuriation and urge to toss the entire desk out the window was placated only by my desire for more iced coffee, a place to stay and of course the urgency to fuck my eager and waiting girlfriend.
“Stepping away for a bit, I will brb :)”
Fuck off, Robert, I thought as I followed my ginger goddess to the bedroom.