the pollen made me do it! (Patreon)

synopsis: so you accidentally inhale sex pollen around the coworker you're convinced can't stand you - good thing he's still willing to, ah, help you out!

pairing: grumpy!coworker x f!reader

wc: 4.0k

content: mdni, SMUT, porn with plot, fem reader, sex pollen, coworkers-to-lovers, grumpy but secretly soft for just her, making the stoic/nonchalant type super horny mwahaha, reader is a little ditzy, secret pining, handjob, office sex technically, fucking against the wall, light breath play/choking, unprotected piv sex, creampie

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“You sealed the sample, right?”

This would probably be a bad time to bring up that you did not, in fact, seal the sample. Or follow proper protocol at all when you were preoccupied with the full hangover throbbing behind your eyes and the texts left on seen on your phone in the pocket of your lab coat. Feeling like a zombie, on autopilot as you switched from task to task. 

“It’s a plant,” you muttered, casting an irritated scowl to the tiny little container he was talking about, the innocent flower frozen mid-bloom inside of the glass. 

It wasn’t like you were researching, like, diseases here. No scary bacteria or viruses to be shoved under the microscope, nothing communicable either of you could be infected with. You were just studying a potential new plant species another lab had sent in. 

Your coworker tch-ed at you, lips pressing together in an irritated scowl as he stared down at the improperly sealed sample. 

“Sorry,” you apologized anyway, refusing to look directly at him as you shrugged your shoulders, unable to see what the big deal was if you made a couple minor mistakes while you were having a bad day. 

Your bosses had offered overtime pay for this shift though, promised that you’d get an extra day of PTO to anyone who clocked in on their Saturday off. It sounded nice when you signed up. But that was before your boyfriend had broken up with you for working too much. 

Unfortunately, you were beginning to think he might’ve had a point when no one else had shown up other than the person here who seemed to dislike you the most.

The two of you worked together in mostly silence — until he had something to scold you for. 

Sometimes you wanted to remind him that he was at most a couple years older than you, that he’d only been working here a handful of months longer too, even if he acted like he was your boss half the time. 

Still, he was irritatingly right more often than not, his reminders narrowly stopping you from fucking up nearly every week. 

The worst bit was how you only ever seemed to screw up around him. 

He made you nervous, your fingers trembling when you were working with solutions you’d mixed a thousand times before, getting stupidly flustered over steps you already memorized. 

You wished he was hideous. 

That your eyes weren’t drawn to him every few seconds, studying his sharp features even when his mouth was spitting out an order your way, calculating the angle of clenched jaw when he asked if you were listening to him. 

You usually were. 

It was just hard not to get distracted when he looked like some model someone photoshopped to have a lab coat and goggles. 

“If you’re distracted, you should just leave,” he grunted as you slid in front of him to take the sample. 

“I’m fine,” you dismissed, shaking your head. “Just personal stuff.”

You didn’t miss the crease between his brows, the way his mouth turned down before he chose to say nothing. 

Your throat closed around nothing, an invisible lump stuck in it as you took a look at the pretty white flower concealed inside the glass container. You picked it up, squinting at the vascular system inside the petals, increasingly confident it had to be a new species the longer you stared. 

It certainly wasn’t one you recognized. 

A few little spores were stuck to the stigma of it, ones he hadn’t noted in the report you’d been reviewing earlier. 

You set the container back down, snagging a sterile cotton swab as you lifted the lid to collect a sample of those too. 

It was just the second you opened it up, your entire vision turned yellow. 

How the fuck did such a tiny flower produce that much pollen? 

And pretty much spit it at you? 

You couldn’t see anything, freezing as you realized you’d just given your coworker another reason to think you were nothing more than a moron. 

“Oops,” you squeaked, wiping your face with gloved hands, grateful for the protective goggles sparing your eyes as pollen stuck to the cheap plastic, practically powdering your lips with the light substance. You felt gross, even though it didn’t have any grit to it, closer to snow if anything, struggling not to inhale it in when you just smeared more of it on yourself with your hand.  

“What the hell did you-”

He didn’t finish his sentence, a disapproving grunt ripped from his throat as you assumed he noticed what the plant had just covered you in. You tried to wipe the goggles off with your forearm, but the pollen just smeared into paler shades of yellow, still obstructing your vision. 

“What do I do?” You asked, unable to even wipe away the stuff on your lips when your lab coat was dusted with the same stuff. “I was just-” 

“Something’s not right,” he grimaced, like he had some sixth sense on what to say to make you feel even worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, but he didn’t immediately respond. 

And then his fingers dragged across your lips, cleaning them off with a harsh huff, latex rubbing across your nose next. So you’d stop breathing it in, you supposed. 

You heard something rustle, and then a crash. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, and you had to wonder if maybe the plant had done it again, coating him too in a thin layer of the pollen. 

But before you could ask, he grabbed your arm, dragging you so fast you nearly stumbled and sent both of you to the floor. But he held you up, half-yanking as he tugged you out of the room, slamming buttons you recognized with growing panic. 

A pre-recorded voice started playing, saying to stay calm in spite of the contamination – issuing orders to get in the decontamination chamber. 

Shit.

You’d really done it this time, hadn’t you? 

Funny, if your ex-boyfriend had only waited an extra day, working too much probably wouldn’t have been a problem when you were most certainly going to be fired for causing the first situation in like, two years that required the decontamination chamber. 

You didn’t really have time to mourn him or your job when your goggles were being pulled off of you, your lab coat yanked back as your coworker tried to help you get out of everything as the showers automatically started, thick doors sealing shut around you. 

Blinking wildly once you could see again, breathing hard as you glanced up at the man in front of you, a deceptive calm in his dark eyes as he did his best to help you before himself. 

Your stomach somersaulted, your heart stuttering as it struck you just how beautiful he looked under the flashing white lights, a fuzzy feeling overwriting whatever you’d just been thinking about as you stared stupidly at him. 

“Snap out of it,” he basically barked at you, your head swimming as you slowly nodded, your fingers clumsily reaching for the hem of your shirt as you belatedly recalled what the protocol here was. 

And how humiliating it was. 

Stripping down to nothing in front of your hot coworker, everything discarded in a pile, the phone in your pocket probably toast from the steaming water pelting every inch of you. But the pollen didn’t instantly disappear under the downpour. 

“I thought it was supposed to be dead,” you complained, grossed out the longer it stuck to your skin. Scrubbing at it with your nails, panic bubbling up inside your chest as you started to consider what effects inhaling it might have had. 

Would it scar your lungs? Slowly poison you with whatever was in its spores? 

The water was starting to sting as it hit your skin, minutes melting by as you shut your eyes and tried not to think about what possible side effects your body was about to experience – or the man showering on the opposite side of the small room. 

You weren’t sure how long it took for you to notice that the warmth on you wasn’t coming from the shower – but was actually spreading from your stomach up to your chest, heat wrapping around your bones and burying itself somewhere you couldn’t extinguish. 

Convinced it was fear, boiling you while the hot water scalded your skin and just made it so much worse, your lungs straining to suck in air as you scratched at your arms and rubbed your face, trying to erase every trace of the pollen from your body. 

“Are you okay?” A thick voice spoke behind you, but you couldn’t turn around, couldn’t open your eyes when you were teetering towards a no. 

The burning inside you was just growing more intense, simmering under your skin and setting your nerves on fire as your breath got stuck in your throat. It coiled in your stomach, some hungry beast latching onto your core and-

Oh. 

You never knew you were capable of being afraid of your own arousal.

“What was-” Your words were shaky, a pulse rolling down through you as you fought the urge to shudder, your body buzzing with anticipation for something that wasn’t even happening. 

“I believe,” he paused, his voice tight and laced with something so unfamiliar, you had a hard time fathoming what exactly you were hearing until he continued, “The pollen is an aphrodisiac.” 

It took your frazzled brain a few more seconds than it should to realize that he had to be feeling what you were. Suffering the same side effects as the invisible string deep inside you pulled taut and tugged for attention, trying to get you to pay attention to the primal urges the pollen had fueled. 

“Oh,” you half-whispered, your thighs pressing together instinctively as the water abruptly shut off. 

You looked back at him, a whimper escaping at the sight of his sculpted chest, your attempts to keep your gaze north only leading you to focus on that defined jaw of his locking tight while he pressed the buttons by the door only for it to not open. 

“The seal has to be manually unlocked,” he muttered, like he didn’t want to believe his own memory as he ran long fingers over the sealed door. “We’ll have to wait for someone to come in.” 

“But-” Your sputtered protest was cut off by his second attempt to hit the buttons. 

“The alarm should have notified management,” he continued, still not glancing over at you as he continued to analyze the door. Clearing his throat like you couldn’t see the color blooming behind his cheeks, “Should be an hour. Two, at most.” 

You didn’t think you could survive that long. 

Some annoying biological urge breaking every ounce of willpower, bending your restraint, a persistent voice popping up in the back of your head to tell you that you were going to die if you didn’t have a dick inside of you. 

Wave after wave of heat drowning you, pushing your head under the pool of it, the starving need bristling and begging you to do something about it, your mouth opening as you battled your own brain to not say something even more embarrassing. 

“I-” You started, swallowing hard. His head snapped back towards you, his brows knitting together at the way you were struggling to even breathe normally. “It hurts.” 

“Where does it hurt? Is it-” He asked, immediate concern in his usually collected tone, his footsteps coming closer even when you made yourself close your eyes, like if you didn’t see him, you couldn’t get more turned on. “Oh.” 

You could hear his realization in the single syllable. 

“Well,” he awkwardly coughed, “When we get out, I’m sure your boyfriend can-” 

“We broke up,” you huffed at him, squirming as you tried to resist the urge to at least slip a hand between your thighs, shivering as you turned your body away to the bench that lined the wall below one of the showers, the only piece of furniture in the small room. 

You didn’t know he even knew you had one. 

“Oh.” 

That had to be a world record. Two ‘oh’s from him in sixty seconds.

“I won’t judge you if you jerk off if you don’t judge me for-” 

His hand landed on your shoulder mid-sentence, and you shivered. A gasp ripping out of your mouth as stifled a whine. 

“You want it to stop hurting, don’t you?” He grunted, sliding his palm down your forearm as you slowly nodded. 

“But you’re not, like, into me, like that,” you tried to resist, to stay strong. To not just melt into a puddle with your ass up in the air hoping he’d pound it. 

“It is taking every ounce of willpower in me to not push you down on your hands and knees right now,” he murmured, in the dangerously deep voice, his fingers closing tight around your forearm.

You had never heard a better idea. 

But you were scared he was going to regret it. 

Wish he’d never decided to come in today just to get roped into a sex pollen situation with a woman he thought was an idiot. 

“But you-”

“I swear to god if I hear another but, I’m going to smack yours,” he growled, your eyes flicking up to his only to find dark desire staring back at you. 

“Does that mean you like me?” You asked, unable to discern the difference between the sex-crazed cracked-out thoughts the pollen was pumping out and what was actually happening here. “Or are you just horny?” 

If it was the latter, you hoped he would just say it. 

“You’re smart,” he muttered. “You can figure it out.” 

No, you actually couldn’t right now, but you didn’t say it out loud. Just stared at him with a slack jaw until he tilted your jaw up and kissed you. 

He tasted too good to question it. 

Some shared fever distorting your perception as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, a moan escaping as he traced your teeth and cupped your face. Throwing fuel on the fire just with his soft lips, his fingers sliding back to tangle into your hair. 

Maybe it was delusional, your brain making shit up to give you something to believe in when you caught the fleeting thought that it felt like something he’d been waiting on. His touch was surprisingly tender for someone who just inhaled the plant-equivalent of viagra.

Your hand snuck down to find his cock, even if you didn’t have the confidence to actually look down at it as you wrapped your fingers around it. You couldn’t really say it was bigger than you expected when he always carried himself like it was huge. 

And okay, yeah, perhaps you had tried to sneak a few peeks before at his bulge when he wore tan pants, attempting to calculate how big it might be. 

You came pretty close. 

Collecting the pre-cum leaking out of his tip, rolling it down his thick length, eager to draw a pretty groan out of his mouth too, slowly sliding your hand up-and-down as you pressed your bare chest against his.

Breasts pushed up against his firm muscle, clearly carved from working out in his spare time. You guessed all those meal prepped protein-packed lunches weren’t just to make him seem better than everyone else – even if he did scrunch his nose up at the sugary snacks you brought. 

“So, uh do you go to the gym a lot?” You asked when the kiss broke, cringing at your own attempt to make conversation when your cunt was already clenching around nothing, your smaller fist stroking his cock as he looked down at you, confusion breaking through the horny haze the pollen had cast over both of you. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, his mouth curving down for a second, but you could see the vein you frequently made throb across his forehead standing out – like he was straining to seem normal.

“A little,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip before his thumb drifted across it and pulled it down. 

“Don’t be,” he muttered, all soft and low, dragging you deeper into the heat infesting your thoughts, your brain replaying his tender tone. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Your ex certainly hadn’t done that lately. 

You kissed him first this time, still dragging your hand over his cock, liking the way it sort of jumped at your touch. 

“I usually prefer more foreplay,” he hummed, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm flat against his chest. “But I don’t think I can wait right now.” 

“I think a different venue would’ve been nice too,” you shakily quipped, earning a deep laugh that just sent a tingle straight down your spine. 

“We can agree on that,” he muttered, his mouth grazing over your jaw. 

“They don’t have cameras in here, right?” You asked, head tilting back as he sucked greedy spots down your throat, scanning the ceiling for some sign you were being recorded. Still aware enough through the needy fog distorting  your decision-making skills to have anxiety over someone else seeing you having sex with your coworker. 

“No,” he bluntly said, lifting you up by your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and pinning you against the wall by the door. 

To be fair, they probably never suspected someone might be fucking in the midst of an emergency. 

You wanted him so badly that it burned. 

Every muscle twitching and tensing, the expectation and waiting making it so much worse, your pussy throbbing around nothing as you looped your wrists behind his neck. 

Your heart was lodged in your throat, your lungs straining for air as he lined his cock up with your slick folds, every nerve ending electrified as you felt his tip nudge against your entrance.

“You can take it, can’t you?” He asked, like he was seeking permission when you were on the brink of begging for relief.  

“Mm, mhm,” you half-whispered, nodding as you shut your eyes. 

But then he clicked his tongue all disapprovingly, sighing at you, “Look at me when I’m fucking you.” 

You obeyed automatically, an infuriatingly intense shiver of anticipation rolling through you at how gravelly his voice sounded like that, your stare locking onto his as he slid in. 

You thought he had better self-control.

That he was, ah, more unaffected by this than you. 

Sure that you’d inhaled more, or that since he was bigger, it wouldn’t be so bad for him.

But the second he was inside of you, that steady mask of his shattered. 

Broken to bits as he damn near immediately bottomed out, refusing to give you a moment of respite when he plunged every thick inch inside of you, his mouth back on yours to swallow your desperate cry of his name. 

And god, you were so wet that it wasn’t even hard for him to shove it in and stretch you out, your walls sucking him in as his swollen tip nudged right below your cervix, everything that was normally sensitive dialed up by a thousand. 

You couldn’t tell if it had been five seconds or five minutes before you were dissolving into nothing, molded into putty with just a few rocks of his hips against your skin. 

“Holy shit,” you hissed, burying your face into his neck, unable to keep holding eye contact when just the pressure of his cock buried deep inside you was nearly enough to make the tension in your core snap. “It’s too-” 

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he warned, his usually composed voice cracking as he adjusted his grip, using one hand to hold you up for him to fuck and the other to stroke your hair. 

“Y-you’re not gonna judge me if I cum soon, right?” You half-gasped, your voice muffled into his warm skin, your body trembling already as you tried to hold yourself together. But drool was collecting in your mouth and you could feel yourself leaking down your thighs, your toes curling as he rutted into you, pressing right against your womb. 

“If you don’t mind if I do the same,” he murmured back, and you nodded – but he just pulled your hair back, forcing your head to move back so he could press another pained kiss there, like it physically hurt him not to be as connected to you as possible. 

His cock dragged deeper, pushing you to your limits, and you could almost swear you could feel every individual vein and ridge as he shoved himself in-and-out. 

His fingers shifted from your hair to your neck, splaying across your throat and squeezing just enough to steal your breath. It didn’t hurt, but it made you feel somehow more light-headed, gasping as you ran your fingers through his soft locks. 

You still wanted to think there was something personal in the way he was pounding you. 

That it was more intimate than both of you just fulfilling the other’s needs, than simply being a warm hole to help him out. 

He kissed you like he wanted to devour you. 

As if he’d been waiting for the opportunity to claim you, to mark you up and stuff you full – even if it ended up being a little stranger than either of you could have ever speculated. 

His damp skin on yours, his hand firmly around your throat, a thumb pressed against the tendon there as he fucked you hard and fast. Unforgiving. 

Carving you around him, calling your name in filthy moans, as you felt the thin tether keeping you close to sane threatened to snap. 

God, were you going to cum without him even touching your clit? 

Coaxed to a climax with just him smushing his tip against that ultra-sensitive sweet spot, your moan morphing into a weak whine when he squeezed your throat again. 

You could tell he was close too, his abs tensing and his fingers freezing as he gritted his teeth, pulling away to tilt his head back. You liked the way the lump in his throat bobbed, how he grunted, the fingers on your ass groping possessively. 

“A-are you going to pull out?” You stuttered, and he tch-ed, like you just suggested spitting in his mouth. 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” He grunted, still rutting into you at that same rapid speed, the last strings of your restraint fraying further, about to snap at any second and send you into a free-style.

“I mean,” you hesitated, unable to tell him to when the pollen in your system was saying that he absolutely should.  

“Tell me not to,” he requested, and you couldn’t.

Just staring up at him with an open mouth, your nails raking over his scalp, barely able to breathe when you were on the brink of breaking. 

You didn’t know which one of you splintered first. 

He kissed you through it, his lips pressing against yours right as waves of pleasure rolled from your core through your shaky limbs, shuddering as he soothed you through it, murmuring something in between pecks that you couldn’t quite make out over the roar of blood in your ears. 

Warm cum filling you up, forced deep inside as he kept fucking you up against the wall, every pump pushing some of it out, your eyes nearly rolling back at how right it felt to be broken in like this. 

Every ounce of sensibility ripped apart and stitched back together as you gave into all your basest instincts, nearly whimpering his name as you returned his starving kisses.  

You know, you thought your orgasm would make you feel better. 

Release the tension terrorizing your nervous system and holding your hostage, but it just came back twice as strong, your eyes going wide as they locked onto him. His throbbing cock still keeping all the cum plugged inside you as he let out a low groan, “Fuck.” 

“I, um, guess we’ll just have to try one more time?” You asked, your voice coming out all breathy as he huffed. 

“A few more wouldn’t hurt.” 

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