Across the Desk VI (Boss!GermanyXSecretary!Reader)

    Gilbert wasn’t expecting Ludwig to come home that night.  He’d laughed to himself when his brother had left, for the ‘Stop it Gilbert, you are acting childish, zhis is a professional dinner, not a date!’ date.  He’d had no doubt in his mind that he was going to get laid by his cute little secretary; so when the younger of the brothers threw the door open, at only ten fifteen, Gilbert nearly had a heart-attack, and leapt a foot in the air.

    The blonde was mumbling to himself, running his hands through his hair as he strode into the living room, and stopped dead.

    “Vhat are you doing in my house?” he said quietly, looking at his brother.  The two of them stared at each other for a few moments.

    “I see you didn’t manage to bed her,” the older said, dodging the question.  Blood instantly colored Ludwig’s cheeks, and he scowled.

    “VHAT are you doing in mein house!?” he repeated, walking forward at taking Gilbert by the color, dragging him to his feet.

    “I thought you vouldn’t be home, so I vas going to, ah…house-sit for you?”  He smiled lamely and shrugged, but Ludwig’s scowl only deepened.  “Okay!  Okay!  I vanted to snoop through your stuff.  Plus, I vanted to be here to see you make zhe valk of shame in zhe morning!  Too bad I only got to snoop, zhough…”

    “Get.  Out.”  Ludwig was in no mood to deal with his eccentric brother.  Letting him go and tossing him back onto the couch, he stomped into the kitchen, reaching into the cabinet to retrieve a dark colored bottle.  He was usually more partial to beer over stronger liquor, but right now, he could do with some mind-numbing.

    “So…how bad vas it?”  Gilbert did not take his brother’s ‘advice’ and leave; instead, he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and one side of his mouth pulling up in an amused smirk.  “Did she scream und try to run avay?  Or did she give you zhe ‘I vant to stay friends’ speech?”

    “You probably haf experience vith both zhose scenarios,” Ludwig countered quickly, sarcasm stained with malice.  He didn’t even bother with a glass; popping the top off, he tipped the bottle to his lips and swallowed, the harsh liquid burning his throat.

    “It’s no shame, little bruder,” Gilbert shrugged, “I had no luck vith her eizher.  Alvays turning me down; and look at me!  I’m awesome!”  For some reason, Ludwig was not placated with that statement as Gilbert had hoped; his eyes bored deep into Gilbert’s face threatening to catch anything caught in between on fire.

    “She didn’t turn me down,” he said, before looking away.  “Not at first, anyway.”

    “And yet, here you are.”

    “Shut up!”  Ludwig took another swig, and set the bottle down loudly.  “I thought everzhing was going great!  Dinner vas vundabar, she vas happy, I vas happy, everzhing vas perfect.”  He rested his elbows and the counter and his head in his hands, recalling the events.  “Und ve vere outside her apartment, und I saw an opportunity, so I just…took it.”

    “How vas she?”  Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow.  The expression that crossed his brother’s face was blissful; he recalled the feeling of your lips, pliant yet firm, holding out resistance against him.  She was not going to allow herself to be taken easily, and yet he’d still dominated her will, bending her to his desires.  The rush of adrenaline returned to him as he remembered, and he sighed heavily.

    “Incredible,” he breathed, looking at the marble counter.  Gilbert smirked, which Ludwig didn’t really like.  He didn’t like his brother imagining you in such a way; he was the only one who got to do that!  He was the one who wanted you so desperately, needed you so intensely.  Gilbert had no right to think such dirty thoughts about you.  But then again, now Ludwig hadn’t the right either.  You’d rejected him, and he had no idea why.

    “So?  Vhat’s zhe problem?  Sounds like you vere haffing a lot of fun vith her; vhy are you here, downing your sorrows in booze vhen you could be tangled in her sheets?”

    “…She told me to stop,” he said reluctantly.

    “Vhat?  Really?”  Gilbert laughed.  What a minx!  Give his brother a taste, and then take it away!  He knew you were feisty, but this?  You were a bonefide tease!

    “Und I don’t know vhy!!”  He threw his hands up, and begun to pace back and forth.  “She seemed to like it, she didn’t stop me for a while, not until I thought she might…that ve might…”  His cheeks went red again, reluctant to say something so intimate to his brother.  Why was he here?  This was worse than being alone.

    “Maybe she got stage fright?” the older brother said with a shrug.  “Maybe she vas just vorried she vouldn’t be good enough for a Beilshmidt?”  Ludwig rolled his eyes.  “Vell…maybe she’s a virgin.”  He stopped pacing at this, blankly staring at nothing.  Could…could that be it?  Was she frightened because she’d never done anything like this before?  She wasn’t some teenager, she was well into her twenties, how could this be true?  Ludwig had been rid of his virginity for quite some time now, though he didn’t much like to recall his youth.

    But perhaps his brother was right.  Perhaps you were just scared because it was new to you; you were afraid to go too far, into water you hadn’t yet tread through.  This thought perked him up a bit; it wasn’t a problem with him, it wasn’t really a problem at all.  This was an easy fix, he just had to be gentle about it.  Subtle.  Careful.

    “Zhat vould explain vhy she vas so reluctant to return my affections vhen she vorked under me,” Gibert mused, tapping his chin.  “I mean, even experienced fraulines are intimidated by zhe awesomeness zhat is me!”  Ludwig’s head snapped up, and he strode over to his brother, and started shoving him out of the kitchen and across the living room.  He put up no fight as he was shoved out the door.  “Tread carefully, bruder!  Virgins are tricky!”

    “Good night, bruder,” Ludwig sighed, slamming the door.  He was right, this would be a bit tricky.  But he could do it.  He was sure of it.  

~ ~ ~

    The weekend was filled with fretting and sleeping for you.  When you weren’t worrying over what would happen on Monday, you were excessively napping, trying to gather your strength for the coming work week.  You would need it all, for the task ahead of you.  

    ‘How’s he gonna react,’ you thought, practically tearing your hair out.  “Would he fire me for rejecting him like this?  He wouldn’t, would he!?’ That thought hadn’t yet crossed your mind, but now it was all you could think about.  Crying interspersed your naps, and by Monday morning, you were a wreck.  You tried to fix yourself up as nicely as possible, and to most people, you looked rather good.  But you yourself were your harshest critic, and you thought you looked terrible.  Your hair was slightly frizzy, your posture slumped, your makeup less than polished.  You felt run down, and when you stepped into the office, you could do nothing by sigh.  You weren’t looking forward to this, not one bit.

    It didn’t help that when you walked up, you saw Mr. Beilshmidt waiting for you, leaning against your desk.  When he caught sight of you, you saw the corners of his mouth turn up a bit.  He was happy to see you.  You smiled politely in return, but you were less than thrilled.  This was not what you wanted to be doing so early on a Monday.

    “Miss (l/n),” he said as you approached, and you were at least glad he called you formally in front of the other employees.  You nodded slightly, eyes on the ground.  “I vanted to talk vith you, in mein office.”  Steeling your will, you looked up at him, and nodded again.

    “I want to talk with you as well,” you replied, setting your bag down and following him through the door.  He shut it behind the two of you, and you went to stand in front of his desk, expecting him to circle round and sit down, as he usually did.  But that isn’t what happened; not at all.

    You let out a gasp as he felt his hands come to rest on your hips, and you felt his breathe tickle your neck.  Turning your head to look back at him, you saw a slight smirk play across his lips, before he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

    “I know I vas sudden last night,” he said, and all you could do was stand frozen in his grip.  What was happening, what was happening!?  “Und I vanted to apologize.  If zhis is new to you, I know I must haf scared you.”

    “W-what?” you stuttered, heart rate picking up again.  Your poor heart couldn’t take all this!

    “I vant you to know zhat I’ll be as gentle as possible vith you, mein frauline.  I vouldn’t vant to bruise such beautiful skin, vould I?”  This wasn’t where you’d thought this was going to go; quite the opposite!  You had come in, setting your heart to rejecting him in favor of keeping the professionalism, but now you felt your trembling hands reach behind you to tenderly stroke his jawline, unable to control yourself.  He was so warm, so strong, so….inviting….

    He practically purred under your touch, but as much as he would have liked to tighten his grip on your hips, run his hands up your sides, knead your breasts that you had so wantonly pressed against him last night, he refrained.  He had to control himself; you would reject him like last night if he moved too quickly.  No, he had to let you set the pace, let you lead the way.  And he was happy with that, you seemed to be taking to leadership quite nicely, anyway.

    Everything in your brain screamed no, but this felt so nice.  The way he held you, so still, so patient, and the soft, sweet nothings whispered in your ear, it was intoxicating.  You didn’t understand what he was getting at, but you tried to block out your inner thoughts, raging at you to release him, shove him away, anything!  But you couldn’t.  You were under his spell.

    “Mein schönheit,” he whispered, and while you didn’t understand the meaning of the word, the way he spoke it, so tenderly, so lovingly, it made you melt in his hands.  Leaning back against him, you sighed softly, eyes fluttering closed.  You just felt like floating, drifting in this wonderful sea of ecstasy, for as long as you were able.

    KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!  The two of you jumped as someone rapped on the door, and you instantly jumped away from your boss, smoothing out your clothes.  He retreated to his desk chair, trying to slow his pulse with willpower alone, as he called for whoever was on the other side to come in.  In waltzed Feliciano, a cheerful smile on his face and a manila file folder in his hands.

    “Look!  I got the file you-a requested from the fifth floor!  And I didn’t screw anything up this time!”  He stood beside you and handed the file to Mr. Beilshmidt, before turning to look at you.  “Good morning, (f/n)!  Oh, are you to warm?  Your face is so-a red!”

    “That will be all, Mr. Vargas,” Ludwig said, smiling politely at the intern, trying to dismiss him, but he would not take the hint.

    “You know, something’s-a different about you today,” he said, squinting at you.  “You are so tense…are you-a worried about something, (f/n)?”

    “That will be ALL, Mr. Vargas,” Mr. Beilshmidt repeated, and the younger man jumped.

    “Right!  Sorry!  I’ll just be-a going now!”  He turned to you before he left and smiled.  “Well, I hope whatever you are-a worried about turns out okay!  Bye!”  He left, and just as the door clicked shut, Mr. Beilshmidt was in front of you, hands gently caressing your hips.  If you were going to do this, it had to be now, before you fell back under his spell.

    “Vhere vere we…?” he asked, seductively, leaning in close, but she pushed him away, taking a step back.  This surprised him, but not nearly as much as last night.  Was he still coming on too strong?  How much gentler could he possibly be?  It was already taking all his might not to bend you over his desk and have his way with you.  And you’d been so receptive before…

    “Mr. Beilshmidt,” you started, sucking in your lips and trying to relieve the parched feeling.  “I-I…I will have to ask you to respectfully keep your hands to yourself.”  The last part of your sentence was a run on, the words smushing together as you spoke them quickly, before you lost your nerve.  Ludwig’s face was stone, it didn’t move, he just looked at you blankly, before one eyebrow slowly rose in a questioning glance.

    “…Vhat?” he asked slowly, still trying to process what you’d said.

    “I-I said, that you need to keep your hands to yourself.  I’ll…I’ll report you to HR if this continues.”  You lifted your chin, trying to act confidently, though the shake in your voice gave you away.  You were absolutely terrified.

    “(F/n),” he tried to say, but you held a hand up, cutting him off.

    “This is completely inappropriate for the workplace, and I’ll not have you putting your hands on me again!  …I’m not some floozy, I’m your secretary, and I’ll be damned before I let you take advantage of your position of power over me!”  Crossing your arms, it nearly broke your heart to see the confused look spread across Ludwig’s face.  This wasn’t fair of you, you were acting unreasonably.  After getting his hopes up like you had last night, and now this?  No, this was all your fault.  You shouldn’t have let you kiss him last night, none of it should have happened.  You wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d had a stronger will, hadn’t been so easy to push over.  It was unfair that Mr. Beilshmidt had to pay the price for your weakness.  But it had to be done.

    “Is…is that vhat you zhink I vas doing?” he finally replied, voice growing a bit in tone, though you didn’t immediately notice.  “You thought I vas just…just using you?  Because I could!?”

    “I’ll not fall for it again!” you said, turning your nose up, forcing your voice to stay even and steady.  Ludwig’s expression swung from confused to shocked, to eventually embarrassed anger in a matter of seconds.  So, you only thought he was attempting to take advantage of you?  What a fool he’d been.  ‘Ov course she doesn’t think ov me zhe vay I think ov her,’ he told himself, pressing his hand to his face to hide his emotions.  ‘Ov course not, to her, I’m just a villain.  Her old, perverted boss after zhe only thing all ozher old, perverted bosses are after.  Why vould she vant me?  I’m nearly ten years her senior, und I’ll I’ve ever done is yell at her.  Ov course she vould feel zhis vay.’

    ‘I’m an idiot,’ he thought dismally, looking up at you.  The look you shot him was laced with venom; artificial venom, but it wasn’t like he could tell the difference.  He had no idea of your real motives behind the rejection.  All he knew was that he was embarrassed and shamed and had no idea how to react in this situation.

    “Then go,” he said quietly, turning around and leaned on his desk, both hands spread out on the cool mahogany surface.  You didn’t quite hear him, still caught up in your own thoughts, and when you didn’t immediately leave, he spun around again, and repeated himself, only drastically louder.  “GO!” he shouted, causing you to stumble over yourself in an effort to leave as quickly as possible.  The door slammed shut behind you, drawing the attention of anyone passing by.  Good thing to everyone else it only seemed like you were being bitched out by a grumpy boss; you’d rather they think that, than any alternative.

~ ~ ~

    “Hey,”  You looked up to see Elizaveta standing in front of your desk, arms crossed and toe tapping on the hardwood floor.  You blinked up at her, trying to correct the slouch of your shoulders so as not to seem disrespectful.  Only lazy teenagers slouched, not grown women.

    “Is there something I can help you with?” you asked kindly, painting on a smile, before the woman opposite you rolled her eyes.

    “Get up!”  You were shocked as she reached across the desk and grabbed your arm, roughly pulling you to your feet.  

    “Wait!  What are-“ you gasped as she started to pull you down the hall, towards the break room.

    “Shut up.  You won’t be gone long, your dumb boss won’t even know you’re gone.”  Shutting the door to the small break room, Elizaveta spun around to face you.  “Okay, so that little intern told me Mr. Beilshmidt was yelling at you, ya?”  What?  Was that what this was about?  Had she brought you in here to privately make fun of you?  Great, just fantastic.  You scowled at her, trying not to meet her eyes.

    “He always yells at me.  Why are you choosing now to humiliate me for it?” you asked, scowl deepening as you fought the urge to cry.

    “Oh, will you just be quiet!  I’m not going to humiliate you!  I just wanted to…to…”  She seemed to be struggling with her words, like she didn’t quite know how to phrase what she was feeling.  That was why it nearly gave you a heart-attack when she grabbed your arm rather roughly and pulled you into what was probably the most awkward, stiff hug you’d ever had.

    “Uh…?” was all you said, patting her back uncertainly, until she released you.

    “Look, it’s no secret that I was jealous of the attention Gilb-er, the previous Mr. Beilshmidt gave you.  And I’m sure you can guess why.”  A slight blush colored the woman’s cheeks as she spoke, feeling embarrassed to have to admit this to you, of all people, her rival.  “Und he vas just such an idiot!  Vhy vas he like zhat!?  Alvays teasing you vhen I vas RIGHT ZHERE!  It vas like he vas blind or somezhing!”  As her voice rose, she threw her hands up in exasperation, and you noticed a slight accent slip out.  Her words were always so careful, so controlled, and you’d never thought she’d been hiding and accent under her haughty facade.  Noticing that you were staring wide-eyed at her, though, she cleared her throat and calmed down, suppressing that pesky accent again.  “Anyway, I know what it’s like…to feel stupid because of a Beilshmidt.”

    There was silence, you didn’t know what to say.  How do you respond to that?  Where you supposed to say thank you or something?  When you didn’t reply, she rolled her eyes again.

    “What I’m saying is that it’s not fair that he’s always yelling at you.  And I know you probably think that I hate you,” she paused, glancing at you before turning her head.  “But I don’t.  We’re sort of…equals…I guess.”  She shrugged.  “So, if there’s ever anything I can do to help…I will.”  At first, Elizaveta thought you were silent because you thought she was weird, or because you were ungrateful, or maybe because you still hated her.  But when she whipped her head back to look at you, she noticed your head was in your hands, and your shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

    “Th-thank you,” you choked out, refusing to look up.  This was all just too much.  You couldn’t handle it.  Work be damned; you were going home.  Shoving past the other secretary, who let out a surprised yelp, she made your way to your desk and hurriedly shoved your things into your bag, and as you passed Feliciano, you called back, “I’m leaving!  Tell the boss I’m going home!”  The little pipsqueak of a man didn’t know what to make of it, but he did what he was told, and went straight to Mr. Beilshmidt’s office.

    “Hey, Ludwig?” he said, stepping up to his desk.  The blonde merely glanced at him, too consumed in his own thoughts to give much notice of his friend.  “(F/n) told me to tell you that she is going-a home.  She looked really upset!”
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

~ ~ ~

    “Vhat?”  Ludwig’s head snapped up at this, but he quickly settled down.  He didn’t care.  Good riddance.  Maybe if he slept on all of this, it wouldn’t be so upsetting tomorrow, and they could go back to treating each other civilly.  Not likely, but he held out hope.  “Fine.  Go…go copy papers or somezhing,” he told the intern, who nodded gleefully.  He was blissfully unaware of anything being wrong.  But as soon as he stepped out of the office, that happy feeling vanished when he bumped right into Miss Héderváry.

    “Ahh!  Don’t hit me!” he squeaked out of habit, but the taller woman was not about to hit him.

    “(f/n) went home, didn’t she?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.  Feliciano nodded, confirming her suspicions.  “Alright.  Something fishy is going on, and you’re going to give me some answers.”  She started to drag the intern back towards her desk, and while he put up a fight, he was no match; she was too strong!

    “I don’t know anything!” he cried, being overly dramatic as usual.

    “Well then, you’re going to help me find out!”