Across the Desk II (Boss!GermanyxSecretary!Reader)

WARNING/DISCLAIMER: This will get lemon-y towards the later installments.  No lemon in the first few parts, but be warned.  There will be enough fluffy romantic poop in the first couple installments to hold you over 'till the real fun starts

~ ~ ~

    “Ah~  Good Morning, (f/n)!”  Feliciano greeted you as you exited the elevator the next day.  You simply glared at him, the way a bulldog might glare at an annoying cat on the fencepost above it, and the Italian man shrunk back, still smiling, but only out of fear.  Walking right past him, you set your bag on your desk outside Mr. Beilshmidt’s office, and got promptly to work.  

    Your nails, which you’d decided to paint on a whim last night, caught the light nicely as you typed away, a brilliant shade of red, and just long enough to scratch the surface of the keyboard letters as you typed, making the tiniest of scratch sounds with each hit.  It was somewhat soothing, watching your hands dance across the keyboard, like little dancer legs in red ballet shoes.  You laughed at yourself for thinking something so silly, but it was just one of those things that made you smile.

    Quickly remembering that you needed your boss’ itinerary to input any new dates and schedule him his appointments, you got up and knocked on his office door, and entered when you heard ‘Ja, come in.’

    “I need your planner,” you said simply, striding over to his desk.  He watched you approach over the top of his thin-framed glasses, which you’d always suspected carried no prescription.  

    “Here you go,” he said, handing it over, catching a glimpse of your nails.  He always had liked the color red.  “I trust you brought somezhing heavier zhan just zhat sveater today?”  His question caught you a bit off guard, and you faltered reaching for the little black book.

    “Well, I don’t suppose you plan on keeping me late today, so no, I didn’t.”  Similarly, your answer caught HIM off guard, and his cheeks reddened a bit.

    “Er, no, ov course not,” he fumbled, straightening his tie nervously.  “If that vill be all, Miss (l/n)…”

    “Right,” you said slowly, just a tad confused.  You rolled your eyes when you turned away, and shut the door behind you.  ‘He is one strange guy,’ you thought, sitting back down and settling back into your typing.

~ ~ ~

    ‘I haf got to keep mein thoughts under control,’ Ludwig thought, resting his elbows on his desk and his temples in his hands.  ‘She’s going to think I’m some madman, alvays blushing and saying vierd things!’  When you’d walked in, Ludwig couldn’t help his eyes when they jumped to your thigh, hoping in vain for just a glimpse of the stocking he’d seen the night before.  And while he’d been silently chiding himself on that little slip, you’d said the magic words that sent his mind into a frenzy: ‘I don’t suppose you plan on keeping me late today,’.  

    At those innocent little words, his mind had conjured up a picture that was terribly inappropriate for him to think of you; leaning over his desk towards him, breasts on full display under the deep V-neck that little sweater created for them, asking why you were to be kept late.  And another of you, obscenely bent over said desk, bottom deliciously outlined by that slim skirt, begging him to be gentle as he ‘scolded’ you for some mistake.  

    ‘She’s mein secretary, for Gott’s sake!  I shouldn’t be thinking zhese things!’  He shook his head, ruffling his carefully sculpted hair, and he stood up.  ‘No more ov zhis!  She is a gut secretary, und I am just a lecherous old man for thinking zhese things!  Enough is enough!’

    But it would be hard for him.  After last night, the way you’d spoken up to him, not mousy and timid and scared like you had in his office, but feisty and with conviction outside your apartment, it had stirred something inside him.  Brought about something of a challenge to his natural alpha status.  Here was this girl, who was smaller than him in strength, stature and position, yet she had the courage to speak her mind.  She’s never done that before, and very few other women had done it to him before, either.  You were different; and Ludwig liked that.

    And there was no forgetting that glimpse of stocking; he was only a man, after all.  He couldn’t deny that that little bit of skin and lace had intrigued him.  He’d wanted to see more…’No!  No more ov zhis!’  His resolve was final; he would not think about you in this way anymore.  You were his employee, and nothing more.

   Diving back into his paperwork and phone calls, Two thirty fast approached; you and him were scheduled to attend a meeting to oversee the progress of the company’s newest economic pursuits.  The only reason Ludwig would be attending would be to act as a figurehead; you were the one who would take all the notes.  ‘My thoughts are pure, and I’m ready to focus on business’ Ludwig told himself, and he hoped he’d be able to keep his head in the right place.

    Heading down to the conference room, he kept his eyes from wandering to you standing beside him, blissfully unaware of the internal war he was waging inside his head.  Look, don’t look, you know what will happen if you look, his inner demons told him.  Stepping into the room, lined with windows over-looking the city, he took a seat at the head of the table, with you in the chair to his immediate right.  A few other men had their secretaries tagging along with them, but most of the other people at the meeting were taking their own notes, and had come alone, not having the status in the company to have secretaries of their own.

    And was Ludwig ever grateful for your note taking, because he didn’t hear a word of that meeting.  He was far too busy trying not to look at you.  Or notice the way you would brush that one stray lock out of your eyes every so often.  Or the way your foot would tap ever so quietly on the ground as you scribbled.  Or the way your fingers curled so delicately around that pen.  Or the way you would look up through your lashes every so often.  Or the way…

    “Is everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Beilshmidt?”  His attention snapped back to the meeting at hand when the man giving the presentation addressed him directly, and all he could do was stutter, “Uh, er, ov course!  Yes, everything looks fine.”

    “Fantastic!  Meeting is adjourned then.”  As the men and women seated around you and Ludwig started standing to leave, he did the same, in an attempt to seem natural.  You stood as well, and smiled up at your boss.

    “Don’t worry; my notes are very thorough,” you whispered to him, leaning close, unaware that your boss was utterly under the spell of the perfume you were wearing as the space between the two of you lessened.  He’d seemed rather out of it during the meeting, staring off into space for the majority.  It wasn’t like him to be so out of it; he was usually quite involved and vocal.  Something must have been on his mind.

    “Thank you,” he breathed, wishing you would back away so he could try and clear his memory of that tantalizing smell.

    The rest of the day was quite uneventful.  While Ludwig shut himself away in his office, claiming he didn’t want to be disturbed, You finished up your work a bit earlier than you’d planned, and were packing up to leave early.

    “Where are you-a going?” Feliciano asked, popping up out of nowhere and leaning his hands on your desk.

    “Out of here,” you replied sarcastically, shoving your notebook into your bag, before pausing to stare at it.  In his haste to shut himself away in his office, Mr. Beilshmidt hadn’t taken your notes from you.  You were sure he hadn’t heard a work of the meeting first hand, so he would need them to catch himself up to speed.  ‘I’d better just pop in real quick and give them to him,’ you thought, ignoring Feliciano’s babble about his dinner plans (something about pasta).  Knocking, you got no reply, and gently opened your boss’ office door.  “Mr. Beilshmidt?” you asked, wondering why the office was even darker than it usually was.  You got your answer quickly.

    Ludwig was sprawled out over his desk and paperwork, pen still in hand.  The lamp overhanging his desk was turned low, emitting only a dim, soft yellow light that barely touched his features.  You walked over to him, wondering what he had fallen asleep doing, and if you should wake him up or not.  He looked so peaceful, you thought, it would be cruel to disturb him now.  You got closer and inspected his features, relaxed, and for the first time you’d ever witnessed, nearly blissful in sleep.  The planes of his face were in soft focus from the light, giving his usually dangerously angular jaw a softer look.  He looked, almost happy.

    Setting the notebook on his desk beside him, you retreated silently, and shut the door softly.

    “Feliciano,” you said, and the intern was immediately at attention.  “In 30 minutes, wake the boss up, and tell him I finished early and went home.”

    “Yes-a ma’am!” the annoyingly bubbly man chirped, saluting in a silly manner.

~ ~ ~

    “I think I deserve a raise.”  Ludwig laced his fingers together under his chin and peered up at (f/n), raising an eyebrow.

    “Oh?” was all he said, delighted as she walked towards the desk and sat down on it’s surface, half turned away from him.

    “A big one,” she said simply, enunciating each word.  

    “How big?”  (F/n)’s lips curled into a wicked smile at that, and she leaned towards him across the desk, skirt far shorter and riding higher than Ludwig ever remembered seeing it.

    “That can be negotiated,” she practically purred, unfolding her legs, which had been crossed, and circling around his desk to stand in front of him.  Tossing her glasses aside, her hair mysteriously tumbling from it’s slick bun to tousled waves that bounced against her shoulders, she climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and pulled at his tie to bring his face closer to hers.  “I mean, it really all depends.”

    “On what?”  Ludwig’s voice was husky as his hands hovered just above her hips, wondering if he dare touch her.  His body overruled his mind as one hand went to the exposed skin between the hem of her skirt and the top of her stocking, and he nearly lost his composure at how wonderfully smooth and soft her skin was.  

    “Oh how big your-“

    “Hey Boss!”  Snapping his head up, Ludwig was wrenched from his dream in a cold sweat, heart racing in his chest, pulse pounding in his ears.

    “Vhat!” he yelled, more out of surprise than anger, but it made Feliciano flinch all the same.

    “I’m sorry, Ludwig!” he cried, shielding his head dramatically.  “(F/n) told me to wake you up and please don’t hit me I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m-“

    “Feli!  Shut it!”  Sitting up straighter in his chair, Ludwig stared down at his sweaty palms; where had that dream come from!?  It had played out exactly like a trashy women’s romance novel!  It was horrible, it was shameful…and yet he was so disappointed that it had been interrupted.  

    ‘She’s not like zhat; you’re not like zhat!’ he reminded himself, practically shoving his friend out of his office when he wouldn’t stop pleading for his life, and leaning his back against the door.  He held his head in his hands, trying to slow his heart rate and calm himself down.  ‘She vould never…I vould never…stupid brain!  Vhy can’t you think normal, decent thoughts!?’

    To prove to himself that you weren’t the sex-starved goddess from his dreams and just the feisty little secretary he knew you really were, he poked his head out the office to catch a glimpse of you, but you were not at your desk.

    “Where’s (f/n)?” he asked Feliciano, who was still standing nearby, and still cowering.  

    “Oh, she went home early!” he replied, perking back up instantly.  “She said she was-a all done with her work!”  This shouldn’t have surprised Ludwig; this happened fairly often, seeing as you were quite good at what you did.  But strangely, this too disappointed him.  Now, for the rest of the night, all he would be left with was the version of you from his dream.

    And that both intrigued him, and scared him.