Trois. [F4M]

It was just another work day. Another crowded office building. Nowhere in particular. After months of surreptitiously surveying my crush’s habitual work routine, I came to recognize–he was fated as a three; a quiet little creature that functions in triplets and has absolutely no idea how obsessed with him I’ve driven myself to be. If he sends an email, it’s broken up into three perfect paragraphs. If he has coffee, he has three cups. His desk accessories are all arranged in groups of three. You can see how I noticed the pattern.

I can’t tell you exactly when I came to my realization, but I can say that it didn’t take long for my own fascination with threes to develop. I found myself inserting them whenever I could. If we ended up in the elevator together, I’d make sure he noticed me pressing the button three times in succession. I removed and rearranged the objects on my own desk to reflect his compulsion. I began wearing three rings on my fingers, intentionally reaching in front of him to borrow various supplies. I was swiftly giving in to my infatuation with my flawless three. 

I altered my behavior for weeks to accommodate his enthusiasm, but it made no difference. He didn’t take notice of my attempts to enchant him. He remained sealed. A closed door with three locks to none of which I had a key. 

It was disheartening to realize that such a similarity, forced but specific, wouldn’t immediately engross him, let alone not have any effect at all. I decided to change my approach. I would now infiltrate his little world of three and dismantle it from the inside. 

The next morning in the break room, I made my first move.

“Weren’t there three donuts left?” His voice reflected immediate panic, and when he turned to see me pushing the last bit of pink frosted sugar into my mouth, his eyes grew cold.

“There were..” I mumbled through wads of dough that filled my cheeks. I could see his complexion reddening. His temper subtly flaring. It was working. 

I went on like this for weeks. I burdened him in every way I could imagine, and I felt something growing within him every time he laid his eyes on me, no matter how full of rage they seemed to be.

I anticipated it. I anticipated the day when he would crack. I felt it coming—and in my own imperturbable way, I waited.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kcezcp/trois_f4m