idc im real parasocial about Megan. Thereâs no way klay chose to cheat on her after knowing her parents died, sheâs been shot, publicly embarrassed & harassed , isolated etc. he KNEW all of that n still decided to play in her fucking face???? These niggas are jokes. I need him gone expeditiously. Imagine wanting to fuck instagram models all ur life at 47 years old (I think). This nigga got something coming for him istg.
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a/n: ok so one of my moots said phone cord and i said yes. i hope you love this just as much as i loved writing it. i seriously cannot get enough of this pairing and something about fem gerard OUGGHHHHHHHH.
pairing: secretary!gerard x intern!frank
tags: inappropriate office relationship, bdsm dynamic, slight petplay, bondage, dacryphilia, humiliation, sub space, slight sub frenzy, bratting, brat taming, choking
word count: 1,988
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
Frank barely remembers the train ride home from the office. He just stumbles into his apartment, drops his bag, leans back against the door, and exhales like heâs been holding it in all day.
He shouldnât be thinking about her.
He shouldnât be thinking about what she said sheâd do to him, the way her voice dropped, the cold edge in her eyes when she ordered him to kneel. He shouldnât be replaying it so much that he canât sleep.
But he does.
All night, he lies there, imagining her hands in his hair and other places they probably shouldnât be, her nails scraping his jaw, her voice saying things she shouldnât say to an intern. Things he wants her to say again, worse this time.
He hates how much he wants it.
He hates it even more that she knows he wants it.
__________________
The next morning, he shows up late just so he can pretend he doesnât care.
He slouches at his desk.
He purposely clicks his pen louder than anyone needs to.
He âaccidentallyâ drops a stack of papers outside her office.
He hums. Loudly. Off-key.
He does everything heâs seen his coworkers get chewed out for.
And itâs working. He can feel her irritation building like static.
Eventually, Gerard steps into the hallway with the tightest smile heâs ever seen, and fuck, he knows heâs in for it.
âFrank. Office.â
Itâs not the soft, poisonous tone from yesterday.
This one is a bit thinner. Sharper. Barely leashed.
He bites his lip to hide the bratty little grin that dares to escape him as he follows.
___________________________
She doesnât look at him for hours. Instead, she just works efficiently.
Itâs somehow worse than being scolded. Almost humiliating in a way. He feels more like a piece of furniture. Unimportant.
Sheâs ignoring him like heâs beneath her notice, and he hates how much that gets under his skin.
Finally, as people in the office begin packing up for the day, Gerard stands and smooths her skirt.
âFrank. Youâre staying late. I have some matters that I need help with attending to.â
He opens his mouth to say something smart, but the look she gives him kills it instantly. Itâs a threat and a promise all at once.
He stays.
Gerard closes the office door with a soft click and doesnât bother looking at him. She picks up a stack of papers, sets them down, and adjusts a pen, all while letting him stew in silence.
Frank leans back in the chair like he isnât bothered. Like he isnât waiting to see what sheâll do.
He scoffs. âWhat? No lecture today?â
Nothing.
She doesnât even turn around, which pisses him off more than if she yelled.
âOh, come on,â he says, kicking one leg out. âYou're dragging me in here just to ignore me?â
Still nothing.
Gerard finally speaks without lifting her head.
âYou were insufferable today.â
Frank grins. âSo you were paying attention then.â
Thatâs when she moves.
She reaches for her phone on her desk, lifts the receiver slowly, letting the coiled cord slide over her fingers, and turns toward him with a calm, razor-sharp look that guts him instantly.
âYou think I donât know what youâre doing?â she asks, low. âActing tough until someone gives you exactly the attention youâre starving for?â
Frank opens his mouth to fire back, but she steps closer and drags the phone cord across his collarbone, barely brushing him.
His breath falters, and her eyes flick down to catch the movement. She smirks.
âThere he is,â she murmurs. âThe real version of you. I touch you once, and suddenly all that attitude melts right off.â
He tries to straighten, tries to glare, but her thumb grazes his cheekbone, and his whole body softens before he can stop it.
Gerard laughs quietly.
âYou fold so fast,â she says. âItâs adorable. And pathetic.â
Frank makes a noise of half protest and half need.
âOh? Now youâre making little sounds for me?â
She grips his chin sharply.
âYou werenât doing that when you were mouthing off all morning.â
He shivers under her hand, eyes going unfocused for a second.
Gerardâs smile turns slow and cruel.
âFloaty already?â she taunts. âI barely laid a hand on you.â
He whimpers without meaning to, a small, broken sound, and she tilts his chin higher.
âThere it is. That eagerness.â
She taps his cheek mockingly.
âThat pathetic little scramble for attention.â
âHe tries to speak, but it comes out as a stammered, breathless plea.Â
âPlease-â
âMmm. Thatâs what you really wanted to say all day, isnât it?âÂ
She leans in, voice warm and venomous.
âPlease, please notice me. Please put me in my place. Please handle me.â
He shudders at her words, completely helpless.
Gerard tightens her grip.
âYou know,â she says, âI knew exactly what you were the day I took you on as an intern.â
Frankâs eyes widen.
âA needy little thing,â she continues. âAll attitude on the outside and soft as pudding underneath.â
Her lips brush his jaw, not affectionate, more so assessing.
âI kept you because youâre useful. Quiet when I want you quiet, loud when I want you loud. Always watching me like youâre starving.â
She presses her fingers into his jaw until it borders on painful.
âAnd I like having a pet at the office.â
Frankâs breath breaks.
He tries to lean into her hand.
Gerard pushes him back into the chair with humiliating ease.
âBegging already,â she observes. âPathetic.â
He grabs the armrests, struggling to stay upright, voice cracking.
âPlease- please-â
Gerard cuts him off again.
âNo,â she says sharply. âYou donât get what you want. You get punished.â
She loops the phone cord loosely around her hand and lets it trail down his neck.
âSit still,â she commands.
âIf you move, Iâll tie you up with this cord and make you sit in the corner until you cry like the needy little attention whore you are.â
He freezes instantly.
Gerard smirks.
âThatâs what I thought.â
He whimpers, openly now. Thereâs no point in fighting it anymore, and she chuckles.
âHeels clicking down the hall, and you come running,â she taunts. âLook at you. Exactly where you belong.â
She takes his chin again, forcing his gaze up.
âSay it,â she orders.
âSay youâre my office pet.â
He tries to hold it in for a second, until her nails dig lightly into his throat.
He lifts his chin, forces a smirk, and scoffs, âAnd if I donât? You gonna write me up or something?â His voice cracks at the end, betraying him. He hopes that she didnât hear it.
She most certainly did.
Gerard steps in close. Close enough that he canât pretend heâs not reacting. Her perfume, the click of her heels, the cool dismissal in her eyes. She looks him over like heâs the office supply she deliberately keeps just a little too close at hand.
âCute,â she murmurs, almost bored. âYouâre still pretending you have some power in this room.â
He opens his mouth to fire back something sharp, something bratty, but the second her fingers wrap around his jaw, firm and unhurried, his whole body betrays him. The smart remark dies on his tongue. His knees go weak. His breath stumbles.
She watches it happen. Watches it take him.
âThere it is,â she says softly, cruelly pleased. âThat floaty little place you go the moment someone actually puts hands on you. I knew exactly what you were the day I hired you.â
He swallows, trembling, and manages a whisper: âPleaseâŚâ
She smirks. âAlready begging? Pathetic.â
Her thumb presses harder. His eyes flutter, his posture melts, and the last of his defiance sloughs off his bones.
âOn your knees,â she orders.
He drops instantly. Humiliated by how instantly.
She lets him stay there just long enough to stew in it, then moves past him, heels clicking with deliberate slowness. She picks up the office phone this time, the heavy corded one, and coils the cord in her hand like sheâs done it a hundred times before.
âYou want to act like a problem,â she says, âyouâll be treated like one.â
He shivers, glancing up at her from the floor. She tilts his head down again with two fingers.
âHands behind your back.â
He obeys. Trembling, eager, ashamed of how eager. She loops the phone cord around his wrists, pulls it tight, and ties it off with practiced efficiency. The bite of it makes him gasp.
âYou think I donât see the way you look at me? The way you fall apart the second I touch you?â She tugs the cord once more for emphasis, forcing his shoulders back. âYouâre my office pet. Thatâs all.â
He lets out a whine.
âCorner,â she says, pointing with her chin. âFace the wall. Stay there. Donât you dare turn around.â
He shuffles on his knees to the corner, the cord cutting a little deeper with each movement. When he settles, forehead almost touching the drywall, he realizes how humiliating the position is. How exposed. How small.
And then the weight of it hits him all at once.
The restraint.
The command.
The fact that she did this as if it were routine.
His breath catches, then breaks. He tries to hold it in, to swallow it down, but a choked sob slips out anyway.
Behind him, Gerard sighs with amused satisfaction.
âThere we go. Thatâs what I wanted.â
Another quiet sob.
He canât stop it.
âCry all you need,â she says, voice smooth and merciless. âYou brought this on yourself. And youâll stay right there until I decide youâve earned the privilege of being touched again.â
He nods helplessly, tears sliding down his cheeks, body shaking, wrists bound tight behind him. Exactly where she put him.
Heâs still sniffling in the corner when she finally steps toward him again. Her heels slow, deliberate, signaling mercy before she even speaks.
âLook at you,â she murmurs, kneeling just enough to reach him. Her fingers brush his hair back, gentle in a way that makes his chest ache. âYou took that so well.â
Frankâs breath hitches. He doesnât dare turn without permission.
âGo on,â she says quietly. âFace me.â
He turns, braced for more reprimand, but her expression has changed, still sharp, still dominant, but softened at the edges. She tilts his chin up with a fingertip.
âGood puppy.â
The praise hits him harder than any insult. His lips tremble; another tear slips free. She wipes it away with her thumb, slow and deliberate, as if claiming him even in the gesture.
âYou listened. You stayed put. You let yourself be corrected.â
She unties the phone cord from his wrists with practiced care, massaging the marks where it pressed too tightly. âThat deserves acknowledgment.â
Frank stares at her, dazed, body loose and pliant from the comedown. He can barely form words.
She helps him stand, steadying him when his knees wobble. âThere you go,â she whispers. âGood boy.â
âNow letâs try that once more-â determined to make him submit. âSay youâre my pet.â
âI- Iâm your pet, maâam.â He sniffles.
Heâs floating, warm, boneless. The humiliation, the power, the praise, it all blends into something he canât name.
But Gerard is already straightening her skirt, already tucking a stray hair behind her ear, already back in control.
âGather yourself,â she says, adjusting her blouse like she didnât just wreck him psychologically. âYouâre done for the day.â
He nods, still blinking too slow.
âAnd Frank?â She pauses at the door, hand on the frame, not bothering to look back.
âIf youâre smart, youâll remember that I only punish brats who want to be punished.â
Then she leaves the office as if nothing happened.
He stands there alone, wrists tingling, cheeks wet, brain melted into warm static.
Gerard doesnât call him into her office this time.
She waits until heâs sweating at his desk, painfully aware of how quiet the floor has gotten, how exposed he feels. Then she appears beside him, voice low enough that only he can hear.
âYouâre staring again.â
Frank flinches.
âI didnât give you permission,â she continues coolly, leaning one hip against his desk. From this close, he can smell her perfume.
Intentional. Everything about her is intentional. âDo you know how embarrassing that is for you?â
She taps the edge of his cubicle once. Sharp. Commanding.
âOffice. Now.â
Inside, she doesnât bother closing the blinds.
She circles him slowly while he stands there like heâs waiting to be sentenced. Her heels click. She enjoys the way his eyes follow them before he remembers himself and looks at the floor.
âInterns donât ogle,â she says. âThey work. They listen. And they learn their place.â
She stops in front of him and grips his chin hard enough to make him gasp.
âYou want to look at my ass?â she asks flatly. âFine. But youâre going to do it while youâre on your knees.â
She releases him and gestures down.
âGo on.â
The humiliation burns hotter than anything else. She watches him as he drops to his knees the entire time, arms crossed, expression unreadable except for the faint curl of her lip when he hesitates.
âPathetic,â she murmurs. âAnd still hard. Typical.â
She steps closer, close enough that he can feel her presence without touching him.
âYou donât touch,â she warns. âYou donât speak unless I tell you to. And you donât finish unless I decide youâve earned it.â
Her hand drifts just close enough to promise things she hasnât given yet.
âIf this were allowed,â she says softly, cruelly, âIâd have you blindfolded and bent over this desk. There goes your little staring problem.â
She pauses, lets the silence stretch.
âAnd then Iâd make you beg for permission you wouldnât get.â
She straightens suddenly, composure snapping back into place like nothing happened.
âStand up. Fix yourself.â
At the door, she looks back over her shoulder, eyes sharp.
âNext time you stare,â she says, âI wonât stop at punishment. Iâll make an example out of you.â
The door clicks shut.
Frank is left shaking, wrecked, painfully hard and aware that she knows exactly how much control she has and how badly he wants her to use it.
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