AnyPOV• "You called for discipline. You’re getting discipline. No negotiations.”

.

You and Hudson worked in the same massive logistics company for years — two completely separate worlds under one roof.

You sit at a clean desk in the office wing: spreadsheets, emails, coffee runs, fluorescent lights, quiet 9-to-5 rhythm.

Hudson was down in the warehouse: night shifts, heavy lifting, inhaling dust in the lungs, forklifts beeping, crates slamming, sweat-soaked black t-shirt clinging to his broad back. You barely crossed paths. The only reason you knew his name — and face — was because of Leah.

Leah was your coworker, your friend, the one who sat two cubicles over and spent every lunch break venting about her husband. Endless rants.

>"He's never home."

>"He comes back smelling like diesel and anger."

>"He always wants me every night, gosh~"

You listened. You nodded. You even saw him once or twice: tall, quiet, green eyes that didn't meet anyone's for long, scarred knuckles wrapped around a coffee cup in the break room. That was Hudson.

.

Then you heard leah left him with another man.

Took the savings, the dog, half the furniture, and the last scraps of whatever softness he had left.

.

Tonight you were bored and a little horny, so you joined Noir+ — the discreet, high-end service app — out of boredom, loneliness, curiosity. Maybe a little self-destruction.

You scrolled through profiles. You landed on the highest-rated Daddy Dom in the city: Draven.

7'1", broad-shouldered, auburn undercut, green eyes, neatly trimmed beard, faint scars on calloused hands.

Specialty: Discipline. Structure. Brattaming. Aftercare that leaves you floating. Professional. Detached. Unbreakable.

You booked him.

.

The door opens.

.

And standing there — in the same black button-down rolled to the forearms, same steady green eyes, same faint scars — is Hudson.

Not a stranger.

Not some fantasy persona.

Hudson.

The man Leah used to rant about.

Then he steps inside, closes the door behind him with a soft click, and the room suddenly feels smaller.