#now that i'll get dinged on but at the same time an entire project was dropped on my fucking lap with no warning and i still had sections t

[sleepydreamybunny]

ok so tonight got derailed bc a friend needed someone to talk to which like it happens so i did not get homework done but they mentioned something that our boss put in their performance review and i am now realizing that i haven't had my performance review??? and my boss is going out of town so like literally the last day to do it before the deadline is monday???? so now im kind of freaking out bc i don't know if i'm going to get a deeply unpleasant surprise on monday or not so there's that

[alterrune]

Albert: Somethings wrong, be careful, the hospitals layout is shifting!

(The walls and hallways of the hospitals begin to shift around, before a wall blocks off Alter, Violent, Laurence, and Morgana from Kyle, Henry, Ellie, and Teddie)

Albert: The layout has changed, there's stairwells on both of your sides, you'll have to use them to continue moving up the hospital. Again, be aware of traps and shadows, it's becoming much more dangerous here.

(Albert notices some of the signs and painting decorations on the walls after scanning the area)

Albert: These paintings, there all of Lily's memories, the bad ones unfortunately, this entire place are projections of Lily's fear for the worst outcomes because of her after all, so... you might come across more projections of her thoughts. The staircase requires you all solve a puzzle to access it... you might want to take a glace at Lily's memories when you have the chance. Watch over Laurence okay, some of these memories he likely wouldn't want to see,

O-Okay, I can help you. I'm pretty sure you have to go up the stairs with the paintings depicting something that actually happened to her. Lily always told me whenever something bad happened to her, and I remember what they are because I comforted her afterwards.

(We begin climbing up the stairwells. Laurence seems to be becoming less and less stable after each stairwell, but when we get to the last one, it REALLY breaks him...)

No.

No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!

(...because it's a depiction of the exact moment Laurence shot Lily. However, Laurence suddenly sprints away and RUNS INTO THE WRONG STAIRWAY ON PURPOSE.)

NO, YOU SICK FUCKING BASTARD OF A SHADOW!!! I REFUSE TO LET THAT BE THE DAMNED ANSWER!!!

(We can't stop him. Luckily, what he did doesn't end up resetting our progress or get us kicked out of the dungeon.)

Guys, I'll get him back here. Stay here and let me handle things.

I'm POSITIVE, Teddie. Laurence needs help, and I'm gonna give it to him.

(I quickly run up and follow Laurence. A fuckload of shadows are surrounding him, as he lies on the floor, crying in fetal positi---wait a minute. Holy fucking shit, he's having a full-on mental breakdown. I have to stop this, and I know just how to do it.)

J-JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!!! FINISH THE F-FUCKING JOB!!! WHY ARE YOU T-TORMENTING ME BY L-LETTING ME LIVE?!?!

LAURENCE!!!

(Laurence suddenly looks up after I shouted his name, and sees me. I run over to come up close to him.)

K-Kyle...? What are you doing here? This is my punishment.

No it fucking ain't. Listen, Laurence. I know you have PTSD from that whole event. But I know how it feels to have a family member die. In fact, it happened to me twice.

My grandfather passed away due to "health complications" (the details are fuzzy on the specifics), and my step-grandfather passed away due to cancer. I miss both of them, but constantly hanging onto that memory isn't good for you. But at the same time, neither is just trying to just straight-up discard it, either. It'll always come back to you.

Do you know what I do with those memories? Turn them into ways to push myself forward. Instead of constantly grieving over them, I make sure whatever I do, I do it for them. And I'm damn well sure that I've made them proud of me.

And remember, you still have Lily. She's just known as Kynn Lee now, remember? You may be grieving over someone who "died" in your eyes, but she's been essentially reincarnated now. You don't have to grieve over someone who's still alive.

Now, how about you stop being a big ol' ding-dong-dumbass and help me kill these Shadows so we can get the fuck outta this death trap?

(Laurence stands up and gives me a genuine smile.)

You're right, Kyle. Whatever happened then isn't important right now. What matters is what we do right here and now. ORPHEUS!

Alright, now we're talking. MAGATSU-IZANAGI!

(Orpheus and Magatsu-Izanagi stand behind us as we prepare to use a skill that will ensure we get back to the others. That move is...)

MEGIDOLAON!!!

(...the Almighty skill, Megidolaon, of course! We quickly cast it at the same time, leaving no shadows left. It's two Megidolaons going off at the exact same time, do you really expect survivors?)

C'mon, Kyle. Let's head back to the others.

(We quickly head back through the same doorway. Everyone is relieved to see us back.)

Oh thank GOD, you two are alright! We were starting to get worried!

Yeah. What happened when you went the wrong way, anyways?

Turns out the wrong set of stairs had a metric fuckton of shadows behind it.

We managed to fight them off, though.

Actually, thanks to Kyle, I'm better than ever. Let's get the hell off of this never-ending staircase, everyone.

(Laurence then heads up, with everyone following suit. Teddie and Morgana stop me for a moment, however.)

Happy to be of assistance. He already heard that message once before, I just gave him a reminder. Regardless, let's get going.

(Teddie, Morgana, and I then leave out of the final stairwell, ending this never-ending staircase climb once and for all...as well as Laurence coming out of that whole experience feeling leagues better than he did before.)

[bontenten]

Efficiency

Pairing: Daishou x f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degredation, aftercare, established relationship

Thank you so much @/bakatenshii and @/thirstyforthem2dmen for beta-reading. This is a repost from my main after it went fully sfw. Originally for the hqhq (now Anilysium) hard at work collab.

Pen scrawls and keyboard taps sound throughout the conference room as your boss goes over current client projects. Daishou is sitting across the table and you notice he's wearing the tie you gave him for his birthday last year. Looks good, you think to yourself. It's not just the tie, it's his entire outfit, and him.

Daishou notices your lingering stare and makes eye contact, granting you a cheeky grin and a head tilt. Pompous bastard. In response, you send back an expression of mock disgust before turning your attention back to your laptop.

For any newcomer at the firm, it might seem like the office is split down the middle into either your camp or Daishou's, with opinions and jabs on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Why else is there so much spite being tossed around between the two of you, if not due to a deeply entrenched layer of grievances?

It might leave the newbie confused as to why Daishou affectionately calls you his "most significant problem". Or why you preface notes to him with, "to whom this may piss off, my royal pain-in-the-ass".

Then there comes a revelation to the newbie that you and Daishou are not mortal enemies, but rather the most wretchedly in-love couple in this skyrise building. It's a bad decision to cross either you or Daishou for any matter. Not only are the both of you perfectly vindictive, crossing one means submitting an application to be on the blacklist of the other. There's no doubt, in your humblest opinion, that Daishou, even if he'll never outright admit it, absolutely worships the dirt under your heels. And when you are in remotely a good mood, fine, you don't mind his coffee breath either.

It's heartwarming, that in this tower of cold, hard stainless steel and immaculate glass panels, there's love floating around the disinfected air of money, money, and more money. When it counts, you can be sure that Daishou will stand on the same side of the fence as you.

While the meeting goes on and you multitask with the spreadsheet open on your screen, you think you hear your name being tossed around. To your knowledge, everything is lined up already and unless there is some sort of overnight emergency, there's absolutely nothing left on your plate to take care of.

At the same time, there is also the off-chance that someone decides to drag you into hell with them and include you in a project. Now, who could possibly have the audacity to put you into the wringer with them?

"Daishou! Excellent, I'll leave this to you," the boss exclaims. "This pitchbook needs to be done by tomorrow. It's high urgency and the client just sent the numbers in."

A sinking feeling begins to churn in your stomach. You pause your frenzy across the keyboard and pay attention to the meeting to hear the rest of what Daishou has to say.

"If I may," Daishou curtly asks with a smile that's a tad too wide, "I'd like to work with Y/N on this. As you know, we work best together. It'll be done before the meeting tomorrow."

You can feel everyone's eyes turn to you in the meeting room, begging you to please say yes to the man holding titles such as your boyfriend, co-worker, and also 'royal pain-in-the-ass'. You force a smile and match Daishou's client-ready, saccharine expression. "Of course, we'll have it done tonight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the entire meeting room relaxes by ten notches. Bastards, all of you.

"Our firm's best duo!" the boss praises, "We'll leave it to you two then. Meeting adjourned."

It's the two words everyone has been waiting for. The moment the syllable falls, the conference room is filled with the sounds of shifting seats and scuffling feet eager to leave work for the day. With a huff, you shut your laptop and see Daishou coming around the conference table with his laptop and files tucked under his arm. He adjusts and tugs on his tie.

"Guess it's you and me again tonight," Daishou comments.

"And here I wanted to leave work early for once."

"Hey, just a special date night. It's called 'overtime', sounds pretty sexy don't you think?"

You snort and walk past him, going towards the direction of the elevator. Daishou eyes your figure strutting down the hall. The lines of your ironed shirt and the pencil skirt that hugs your figure perfectly match the echoing clack of your heels striking shiny tiles.

Even if you don't remember, Daishou's impeccable memory absolutely remembers how the last time you paired that shirt and that skirt together, it was an overtime situation very much similar to tonight. And the cock that's starting to grow hard in his slacks certainly remembers a lot more. He can feel it twitching just trying to conjure up the sensation of your gummy walls milking him in the breakroom a month ago.

"You coming or what?"

Daishou sees you holding the elevator door open and waiting for him. Daishou won't ever admit to this, maybe to you in privacy, but Daishou will rather be dead than admit to anyone else how lucky he feels to have someone as incredible as you in his life.

He takes a few quick steps and enters the elevator.

"How sweet," he coos. "I knew you wouldn't just leave me hanging and working in this dismal place all alone."

"Shut-up, Suguru," you snap, but you lean your head against his shoulder anyway. It's been such a long day already, and the night is only going to be longer.

"Stay the night at my place later? I'll order your favorite."

"Let's get this project over with first."

"I caught you staring at me during the meeting."

"Huh, is that so."

"Practically stripped me naked with your eyes. Ooh, I felt tingles all over."

You lift your head from his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself Suguru," you remark before tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to yours. "If anything, I think you're the one getting hard at work."

Daishou leans in even closer. A hand encircles your wrist and his thumb brushes your inner-wrist across the bump of the vein. Your pulse is throbbing against his fingertips. You feel your adrenaline and anticipation rushing through your body as your heart pounds harder and faster.

"Then do something to help poor lil' me out?"

"At your place later, we—"

"But I want you so badly right now," Daishou breathes out, body tight against you so you can feel his straining desires through the layers of fabric. "I want—

Ding.

The elevator opens up to the floor the two of you work at. The co-workers waiting for the lift can only see two pristine and exemplary office workers without any semblance of dishevelment walk out. Daishou even says a polite "see you tomorrow" to them.

"If only the elevator stopped working," you joke after taking a deep breath to swallow the fire building in your core. "Sly snake, no one here in the office knows your true colors."

Sometimes, you wonder just how Daishou can switch his persona so quickly. Or maybe he just likes the precarious edge of being horny at work.

"Love you too dear," he sneers.

A couple workers are still at their desks scrambling for their deadlines. You and Daishou take a seat at your work stations and begin to chip away at the urgent, overtime project. Every now and then, you'll say good-night to the other remaining co-workers finally able to go home. It doesn't take long before the halls are completely vacated and empty except for the two of you still slaving away in front of the bright monitors for hours into the night.

"Where are you going?" you ask Daishou who is returning to his seat after disappearing down the hall again. "This is the third time in the last hour. Are you shitting in the toilets or dumping all the work on me?"

Daishou comes by your desk and leans on the back of your chair. "Just making some phone calls. Want to go home now? It's getting late."

"Uh...work's not done yet."

"It's fine, let's have dinner first, we can just work remotely at my place. The bulk is done anyway."

You glance at the clock and ponder Daishou's offer. It doesn't hurt to leave a little early and continue the work later in a more comfortable setting. "Okay, let me pack."

After cleaning up the workstation and packing everything the two of you will need, you and Daishou are back in the hallway waiting for the descending elevator.

Daishou takes the heavy tote bag from your shoulders. “I’ll hold onto this,” he explains.

“Why so nice today, Suguru? First luring me over with food, the compliments, and suggestions to leave early…” You trace a finger along the line of his spine and observe, pleased with the nervous grin spreading on his face. “Someone’s losing patience, hm?”

Daishou gives you an ingratiating smile. “Princess, as fancy as our work is, we still work in client-services. What can I say, I live to serve and please.”

“Cheeky.”

The elevator arrives and the two of you enter the space.

"How long do you think we still need?" you ask Daishou.

"Must we talk about work, right now?"

"You're just horny, Suguru."

"Oh, so it's 'just' me, is that what it is?"

You shrug and admit, "Nah, I was wondering why you didn't suggest anything earlier when the office was empty."

"Baby, if you wanted me that bad, you should've just climbed on my lap."

You laugh at Daishou's retort and prepare a comeback. "I think—"

A loud screech sounds through the elevator and the lights flicker briefly before a jolt causes you to stumble. Your hand automatically flies to the handrail. Daishou also wraps an arm around you tightly to steady your balance.

"Is the..."

"Seems like we're stuck," Daishou comments.

You rapidly press the service bell button, but it's no use. "No one's picking up, it's like the signal got cut. Should've just taken the stairs!"

The cell signal is also terribly weak in the elevator space. There's nothing else to do but wait and see how things play out.

Daishou laughs dryly and smooths his hair back. "We work on the 18th floor, since when do we take the stairs?"

"There's that one evacuation drill..." you reply weakly.

Daishou raises an eyebrow, giving you a look that says, really now?

"You're right, we're doomed. Last moments and—"

"With the love of your life, isn't that pleasant a way to go?" Daishou tightens his arms around you. "Don't worry, it's all going to be okay."

You reciprocate and respond to his hug, while your brain searches for a solution. "I once saw on the internet that if the elevator drops, you have to time your jump right before the elevator hits the ground floor. Otherwise—"

"Shhh," Daishou shushes you quietly with a quick kiss. He rocks you from side to side and reassures you again that everything is okay.

"Trust me, it'll be okay. Let's just have a little fun while we're waiting," he suggests one hand already tracing up your thigh. "Maybe it'll relax all those nerves you've been holding onto."

Daishou wants to laugh. Whose nerves exactly? Do you have any idea how he’s been counting the minutes and seconds for this moment while you innocently worked on the project like the good, model worker that you are?

It took everything in him to somehow put down a few excel formulas and not shove the monitors onto the floor to fuck you senseless across the worktables. Not to mention, the pleasure of having those witty remarks that spurt out from that little mouth of yours replaced with incomprehensible whines and begs for your precious Suguru to fill you to the brim. And now that you also admit to thinking along the same lines earlier, Daishou knows the dirty little thoughts clouding into your mind already.

Some slut that you are, acting proper and put-together at work, basking in the praise from co-workers and the boss; they just don’t know how ten minutes after those morning touchpoint meetings, you are bouncing on Daishou’s cock in a hidden corner while the financial markets open for the day. It’s an art, really, the number of quicks you two manage to fit into the crevices of a busy office schedule. But that’s why Daishou is one of the best employees of the firm. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

The patterns Daishou's fingers trace tickle and send shivers up the skin. His low voice and hot breath across your ear elicits a soft gasp as you press your thighs together in the tight, figure-hugging skirt, seeking some hidden relief for the needy throb inside. The scrap of fabric down there is barely able to soak up the wetness beginning to pool. You are pressed up against him for comfort and security, your breasts plush against his chest. Each inhale and exhale you take is a test of patience.

"T-there's a camera," you remind him through shaky breaths, eyes flickering to the black mechanism in the corner. This is your final thread.

Daishou eyes the camera that is staring expectantly at the tryst about to happen in the cramped space with a wicked grin. Like that has ever bothered you, but if you want to play coy, he’ll humor you. He pinches the soft flesh on your thighs. "But we both know you're an attention whore. Always wanting to be the center of attention?"

You bite your lip to stop a whimper and look away, unwilling to admit that Daishou is completely right. You're already squirming in anticipation and delight. How cute, Daishou savors before deftly undoing the first two buttons of your crisp blouse. He has all of your clothes memorized, and how to take them off in the least amount of steps. At this point, it's completely second nature, and even if it isn't, the particular outfit you are wearing today has a special pedestal in Daishou's memory of interests. He pulls the tucked fabric apart to expose your delicate neckline and the soft curves of your breasts in the bra.

Oh, this one? What a coincidence then. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhales the scent of your lingering fragrance. His hot breath and tantalizing lips drag across your collarbone, brushing your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy. Let's put on a show shall we?"

The thread snaps.

You harshly tug on the Daishou’s tie and capture his lips with yours. Daishou presses his body even closer, resting a forearm right above your head to cage you against the elevator wall. You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, as you meld into the searing kiss. The zipper of your skirt is tugged and the fabric is pushed up to your waist. His hand snakes up your thigh and a thumb hooks the side of your panties, pulling the soaked scrap down.

"Step," he instructs, pulling your panties down all the way and guiding your heeled feet out. "Don't want them dropping on the floor," he says, tucking the bunched fabric into his shirt pocket.

"Touch me, please," you beg, pulling Daishou back to you. You grab his hand and lead him to between your legs, grinding yourself against his thick fingers for some relief.

“No need to rush, the elevator isn't getting fixed anytime soon," he coos, "We're not going to get distracted this time."

Daishou spreads your lips apart and rubs along your sensitive bud, coating his digits with your slick. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he marvels before slipping a finger in and then another.

Daishou pumps his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy, occasionally dragging over to circle your clit. "That's it, isn't it?" he groans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers when he finds the spot that has you falling apart into streams of whines and mewls.

Daishou withdraws his fingers and brings the glistening digits up for you to see. "How much are you enjoying this? Wanting to be fucked in an elevator, watched by who knows who behind that camera."

You whimper and watch Daishou take the coated fingers in his mouth, licking off every drop of you. "You taste so good," he breathes, before pulling you into a kiss and letting you have a taste of your own arousal.

You break out of the kiss and turn around, resting your hands on the handrail. "S-Suguru, want you in me," you beg. You bend over just enough for your Daishou to see how much more wet you've gotten from tasting yourself on him. Your glistening hole is dripping and desperately clenching around nothing.

"Patience, princess." Daishou quickly unbuckles his belt and lets the cock pressing against his tight slacks spring free. He prepares to give himself a few more strokes but you reach behind and slap his hand away, replacing the hand on his cock with your own.

"Fuck," he groans, bucking his hips into your hands. "Always the impatient one."

"Hurry...please."

The building anticipation is making your knees weak and head dizzy already. You keep both hands on the handrails for support and squirm over trying to better line yourself for that thickness you need to fill your hole.

"Shit, stop teasing me!"

Beep.

The emergency intercom you pressed when the elevator first malfunctioned finally lights up. The line connects after a moment of static and radio noise and temporarily shocks a thread of rationality into your thoughts.

"Hello? Hello? Are we connected now, finally? Hello? Can you hear me?" the voice urges from the other end.

"Ah-" you gasp out, feeling Daishou fingers draw out slow circles on your clit. You press your lips tightly together to muffle a moan.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

Daishou leans next to your ear. "Answer them, sweetheart." The tip of his cock teases the entrance of your pussy, running along the wet lips. "Do well and I'll give it to you."

You manage, with difficulty, squeak out, "Y-yes!"

"Good girl."

Your legs buckle slightly when you feel Daishou's thick cock being pushed into you, finally giving you the gratification you have been craving during Daishou's ministrations.

"Oh, careful now, don't want you falling over," Daishou's grip on your hips tightens and he groans at how warm, wet and tight you are around him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he mutters under his breath.

The speaker buzzes again. "Great, finally connected. Ma'am are you doing okay still?"

"Yes!" you cry out as Daishou gives a firm and deep thrust; a wave of pleasure shoots through you.

"Don't panic, our team is already coming—" The line disconnects as abruptly.

Daishou revels at how your soft walls hug and clench around him. By all means, he didn't expect the interruption happening at all. It seems like you are not the only impatient person, he wonders, before flashing a nasty look at the camera in the corner and flipping said object off.

"Come on, princess,” he encourages and pats the side of your ass lightly. “Let me hear how pretty you sound."

"Sugu—" you gasp out, feeling the tip of his cock rocking into you. "R-right there right, ah—"

"Yea, you like that?" Daishou groans, pushing into you again feeling your walls clamp around him so tightly. So perfectly. It's addicting and all he can do is thrust in and out, over and over again. Each time seeking out the sounds of your pretty moans when you are completely filled and stuffed with him.

Lewd squelches and the slaps of skin meeting flesh fill the elevator space, along with Daishou’s grunts and your pants. Your hips meet each of Daishou’s thrusts in perfect rhythm, taking his entire length until the base. You can feel each stroke dragging along your walls, the size and length of his cock pushing against your tightness and prodding your cervix.

Neither of you can bother with any other distractions now that bliss is just teetering on the edge. Daishou pulls out and turns you around so you face him. He then scoops you up from under your ass with your legs spread over his forearms and hoists you up against the elevator wall. You feel the stinging cold from the cylindrical edge of the handrail as a dubious support against your heated skin.

"Suguru!" you squeal out, "I'll fall! I'll—"

"I got you, don't worry," Daishou reassures, "You're okay, I won't let you fall."

Once he feels your arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Daishou slides into you again with a loud squelch.

"We're right outside now! Won't be long before we get you two out." A loud voice calls out from beyond the shut elevator doors.

"Smile for the camera, princess," Daishou encourages before picking up the pace, chasing the high that's just around the corner. His thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting your sweet spot deep inside you over and over again making your mind spin. The countless reflected images of Daishou's unrelenting pursuit and speed, and the expression of your fucked out face collide together in a blurry, infinite kaleidoscope.

“Gonna cum! Gonna-”

All thoughts leave your mind with each ragged breath as you near your own edge. You can only cling onto Daishou tightly, nails digging into his shoulder and back. You don't hear the sounds of mechanical whirring outside the elevator. Whatever it is that the people are shouting outside does not matter. The bright lights don't make any sense to you anymore. You don't even remember what Daishou Suguru looks like.

The blank stare from the camera is the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut, face tucked in the crook of Daishou’s neck, and body feeling like putty in his arms. All that's left is the euphoria sparking through and broken syllabylic babbles you struggle to utter out.

With a few final thrusts, Daishou grunts and pulls you completely flush against his hips, finally spilling himself into you. Release after a long day never feels this sweet, Daishou muses as he holds your languid body close. Each deep breath you take only pushes your soft breast against his chest, and Daishou can feel your spasming walls still hugging him. He peppers a few kisses on your sweat covered brow. So good, so fucking good.

The voices and mechanical whirs outside interrupt Daishou’s moment.

That’s right, we’re still in this damn elevator. Daishou carefully pulls out his softened and twitching cock and lowers your wobbly form down from your make-shift seat. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the drool from your face then lightly dab away the trail of mixed fluids seeping out of your puffy cunt. The overly saturated handkerchief does a poor job soaking away the mess the two of you made.

Daishou reaches for the crumpled panties he shoved into the shirt pocket, but decides against letting you wear it. In your current state, your legs are like a newborn deer, barely able to support you let alone try to maneuver into underwear.

"Once we get back to my place, I'll draw us a bath.”

The increasingly loud mechanical clamor and sounds of the elevator workers pull you out of your daze for a moment too. You try to fumble around and haphazardly button your shirt, but the buttons miss their proper buttonhole by one. You pout and look at Daishou who just buckled his belt and tucked in the edges of his crumpled shirt. He looks ready for a client meeting already, if not for the obvious smell of sex clinging into him.

Daishou chuckles at your state and helps you slip into his long coat. He kisses your brow again in apology. "Sorry baby, just bear with it for a moment."

"Hungry."

"Yes, yes. I'll order your favorite too, like I promised."

You nod, pleased with his answer.

Ding.

The doors of the elevator open, to the relief of the elevator workers outside. They were in the process of getting ready to pry the doors open, but it seems like the elevator is back to normal already.

"Sir, Ma'am, we apologize for our tardiness."

Daishou waves a hand. "Not at all, it was fine. My girlfriend," he nods to your hidden form in the coat, "a bit frazzled, that's all."

Daishou's coat is like a bathrobe and hides absolutely everything. Turn up the collar, hide your face in Daishou's neck, and no one can see the mess that you are still underneath the thick layer. If they don't look, they won't know about the cum that's already dripping out and trailing down the curves of your legs into your scuffed heels.

"Is she okay? If there are any problems, we can direct you to-"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. Thanks for helping fix the elevator." Not that there was anything wrong with it to begin with.

"We'll be inspecting all the elevators in the building as well. We assure you this will never happen again."

The musty smell of sweat and sex is all that lingers in the elevator, but it'll dissipate soon enough. Maybe there are tiny puddles of your juices on the tiles but the 5 A.M. cleaning workers will wipe it all away. By tomorrow, the elevator and rest of the building will be just the way it always is again. The stainless steel is cold, and the glass panels are pristine. In the early hours of the morning, leather shoes and heels will be strutting around on the marbled floors. Phone calls. Printers. Clients. Meetings. And more overtime.

Daishou smirks to himself, supporting just about your entire weight. His phone rings in his coat pocket. He reaches for the device and answers the call. Those bastards.

"Heh, glad you enjoyed the show you fucker. And tell Kenma, 'that was a dick move he pulled back there.'"

He listens to the response from the other line.

"Yea sure, thanks for hacking the system...uh huh, tell him to cum in your dirty sock-rag then...yea whatever, go eat shit."

Daishou ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Su-gu-ru..." you mumble.

"Yes princess?"

"...Pitchbook..."

Daishou presses a light kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Even all fucked out, you still manage to not forget about corporate responsibilities, some overachieving show-off you are. After getting you cleaned up and warm, he'll finish up any remaining work. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

[adore-holland]

Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Ehm... none, I think?

Summary: An afternoon walk turns interesting when you run into your ex.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this! It was fuelled by my Shirin music binge and a weekend of about no sleep. It’s not edited, but here’s to hoping it still makes sense! 

Small droplets of water fell peacefully against the large tiles on the pavement. Dark clouds covered most of the sky, and the soothing sound of the rain seemed to have the same effect on the rest of southern London. The whole city just felt lazy, there was no other way to describe it.

You loved it. The British autumn had always been your favorite season. Maybe it was the memories you attached to the season, your past always seemed so much more idyllic in the cozy evenings of lazy, rainy Saturdays.

The wind was driving your hair wild. Your white beanie didn’t really do much to help, but your ears were warm. You were cocooned in your red coat, hands stuffed into the large pockets. You loved everything about autumn. But the nostalgia always overtook your brain. The orange and brown leaves, flying around, close to the ground, brought back memories of long walks in the woods; soft palms and calloused fingers holding onto your own. They brought back images of bright smiles; loud laughs; hot chocolate kisses and brown eyes, watery from harsh winds.

Even with the gloomy weather, you felt giddy. You were having dinner with your best friends later that evening. It had been a while since you had seen them last. Work always managed to get in the way.

You looked up from the concrete blocks beneath your boots and noticed that you were almost at the grocery store. There was a light buzz of people around, far less than there would have been, had it not been raining. But still enough to make London feel like a city and not a commercial for the newest model of a car.

The glass doors slid open, greeting you happily with a “ding” from the electronic bell. You had never understood how anyone could work for hours with that bell, without going insane at some point.

Normally white aisles were covered in brown water streaks, and the sound of shrieking shoes clashed against your eardrums. A single overhead light flickered inconsistently, dawning the place in a midnight atmosphere. Muffled conversations could be heard throughout the store, and everything was exactly as it should be.

Your eyes fluttered along the aisles, searching for the products you needed. In fact, you didn’t really need anything, nor did you want anything. But you had been sitting at home, with a cup of tea, and something had just told you that you needed to get out of the house. Your gut was probably right about that; you had been holed up at your flat, working tirelessly on a work project for days.

In fact, it had been a long while, since the last time you had taken time to just wander around the city. The electronic bell rang once again, and you moved from the dairy section towards drinks. Row after row of differing teas, differently processed coffee beans, and of course what you were there for; the hot chocolate.

"Y/N?" Your hand stills in the air, freezing where it was reaching for a box of hot chocolate powder. Silently you let out a breath of air, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing that the voice was only your imagination. You relax the muscles in your arm, and it falls gently down your side. With a last quick breath, you open your eyes, and sure enough there he is.

Brown boots, the same ones he wore all that time ago, you can tell by the small green stain near the ankle. That was your paint, you remembered that day vividly. Flashes of wide smiles, flying paint, and empty canvases. Hugs from behind kisses on paint covered noses and laughs that you could only relive in your dreams.

Acid wash denim jeans, ripped at the knees, just the way he preferred it. But you knew those jeans, and the holes weren't artificial. They had torn during the many days you had spent together, hurting yourself on the highest branches in the tallest tree in the forest behind his house.

The black coat was new, but that made sense, considering how he always managed to forget his coat somewhere ridiculous. You remembered how confused you had been, when he was sitting at your dinner table, admitting with red cheeks, and downwards cast eyes, that he had forgotten it at a magazine interview. Later that evening you had found it for sale on eBay.

Your eyes finally reached his, and the familiar warm feeling arose in your gut. They were autumn brown. Whenever you had told him that, as whispered confessions, he laughed at you. He didn't get it, he never got how you could see an entire season in just his eyes. How his eyes always reminded you of wet tree trunks, fallen leaves, and hot chocolate. You remembered why autumn was your favorite season.

His hair was a curly mess on the top of his head, blown through by the wind, and your fingers itched to run through it. Clenching your fist, you smiled at him.

"Tom," his mouth quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name rolling through your lips. "I didn't know you were in town."

"No... No, I'm, ehm." He took a step closer to you, lifting the item in his hand. "I'm only in town to take care of my mum." The packet of kleenex was balanced perfectly between his fingers, and you could almost feel them running through your hair.

"Yeah.. she mentioned that she was coming down with a cold." A low chuckle whisked through the aisle. You raised an eyebrow at him, but couldn't help the smile that emerged on your own lips.

"Sorry, I just find it a little strange that my mum still talks to my ex-girlfriend." The small smile that had decorated his face oh so effortlessly, disappeared and was immediately replaced by a small frown. Ouch. You had never really thought about it that way. In your mind, he wasn't really your ex-boyfriend. You didn't know what he was, but that word always felt... too real.

With a reluctant nod, you shuffled on your feet, watching the water on the floor move with your movement.

"If you're not busy, we could go for a cup of hot chocolate." His eyes were warm again, flittering across your face in that special Tom Holland way, that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Yeah," you felt the warmth in your stomach spread upwards, into your cheeks, and you felt the sudden need to hide your blushing face from him. You didn't. "Yeah, I would like that."

While Tom ended up buying the Kleenex, you came out the store empty handed. The weather was still gloomy outside, but the wind had stilled a bit. As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the distance between the two of you. Had it been only a year prior, there wouldn't have been so much as a centimeter between you, fingers intertwined and arms tangled. Even mentally, the distance wouldn't have been there. You would have laughed about something stupid that happened to him on set or whatever funny thing your little brother and Patty had been up to.

But the air was filled with small talk, the kind you hated. How's work? Where do you live now? How did that one project work out? How's your grandma? Oh, she passed I'm so sorry.

You couldn't stand it. Any of it. Neither the distance nor the fact that the distance wasn't big enough. Your mind was a clutter. Happy memories were thrown in with the sad. You knew that you should just walk away, never look back on something that took you so long to get over, while the other part of you wanted to rekindle something that once was.

Tom came to a sudden stop and you almost bumped into him. You were on the corner of two quiet streets, this had been one of your favorite spots in the world. Once upon a time, it had been your spot.

Upon seeing your hesitation, Tom brought his hand to the back of his neck, scratching slowly right where you remembered his curls meeting his skin. "Is this okay? If not we can go somewhere else." His hair was getting darker from the rain, so you just nodded with a quick smile.

"No, no." You looked up at the place, white and orange flowers littering the walls, and the inviting warm light coming from the windows. "This is great." Deciding, that you might as well enjoy this, rather than comply to the annoyingly persistent butterflies in your stomach, you cast him a grin, before making your way up the steps, and inside the warm cafe.

"Y/N, Tom! It's so nice to see you again." Michelle, the nice middle-aged lady greeted you. "It's been so long." She smiled at the both of you, happiness shining through her blue eyes. The greying hair fell down to her shoulders in large curls, and the "Star Baker!" apron, was tied tightly around her waist. God, you had missed her.

You didn't fight your sudden urge to hug her, so you quickly sidestepped the disk and brought her in for a hug, which was gladly returned.

"My goodness child, you're all wet." Despite the slight disgust in her voice, a happy laugh bubbled out of her.  "I'll make up the usual for you, then I can take your coats to dry."

"Michelle, you don't have to that." Tom smiled at the woman, holding his arms out for a hug. Michelle let go of you and ran around to the other side of the disk and straight into his arms. As your eyes met Tom's, you quickly looked down at the ground, ashamed that you wanted to run into his arms too.

As the woman took your orders, and then coats through the protesting, you and Tom sat down at your usual table. Right next to the western window, looking out over the small courtyard that accompanied the cafe. You sat there, silence emerging around you. It had been a good ten minutes before your order came, and still, neither of you had said a word.

"I'm sorry." He finally broke it, eyes on the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. "I've wanted to say that for a year now." He looks up, meeting your eyes again, and your shoulders straighten up slightly at the sorrow-filled look in his eyes.

"I'm not gonna pretend that I didn't need to hear that." You say, voice quiet, scared that Michelle will find out that her favorite customers have broken up. "Can I talk?" You look intently into his eyes, searching them for any form of hesitation, you only find regret.

"I was angry at you for so long. So long! What you did, I never imagined it would hurt as much as it did." Again your eyes fell towards the mug in your own hands, running your index finger on the rim, before glancing back up at him. "Do you remember that night?"

:o:o:

The sky was littered with stars above the two of you. You were lying on the red picnic blanket, on the balcony of your flat. Every once in a while one of you would point towards the sky, fixated on showing the other a star, that in one way or another reminded you of something. For the most part, you would concentrate on finding the satellites.

Your ear was laid against the left side of his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his strong heartbeat. You could feel him exhale his breath on the top of your head. As you lied there, you felt unbelievably calm, overwhelmingly safe and undeniably happy.

If anyone had asked you, a couple of years prior if you would ever find the love of your life, you would have told them off. Back then you didn't believe in something as silly as the love of your life, even love was such a strange concept to you. In your mind, sharing everything you were with someone else seemed completely ridiculous.

You hated being proved wrong, but Tom showed up, and you had never been so thankful for it. Ever. He had turned your world upside down, and suddenly the world made sense. It was like you had experienced the world wrong side up all your life, and then there he was. You could finally sing along to love songs without feeling like you were weird for not understanding what they were singing about.

"I could get used to this." You said as you cuddled closer to Tom, planting a soft kiss right beneath his ear. To your surprise he clenched his jaw, turning his head to look you in the eye.

"Y/N..." His eyes turned mournful in the mere span of a second. It was a punch to your gut, and as a knee-jerk reaction, you sat up, looking down at him. He looked like an angel lying there, right beside you, one hand on your thigh, and the other beneath his head. Brown curls spread out over the blanket, and eyes reflected the stars above him. He's so beautiful, and you slowly felt the tears well up in your eyes. Why... why would he ever make your name sound that sad?

"No... Don't" You feel a sob rise up your throat. "Please don't." He sat up with you. As gently as he could, he pulled you into a hug, slightly awkward from the weird angle. You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting the tears roll out of your eyes and onto his white shirt. "Please." You whispered in a desperate attempt to make him stop doing what you knew he was about to do.

"Promise you'll always remember me." He whispered into your ear, and your heart shattered completely. How could that voice, that voice that you loved so much, hurt like nothing else ever had?

"Don't make me promise that." You straightened up, tangling your hand with his, "People only as you to remember them if they're planning to leave." Your voice was so quiet, if it weren't for the ragged breath he drew in you wouldn't have known whether he heard you or not. "If you're planning to leave please don't ask me to remember it."

:o:o:

He nodded, and you take in a sharp breath, like a knife scratching the insides of your lungs.

"I get it. I didn't then, but I get it now." You look him directly in the eye, and god you miss him. "In a way, you were doing me a favor. At least that's what you told yourself wasn't it?" He opened his mouth, preparing to answer you, but you shook your head, quickly continuing. "You see, what hurt wasn't really that you broke up with me, not even how you did it, even though doing it on an anniversary wasn't your best idea, it was the fact that you made a decision, that I should have been part of."

"Y/N, I didn't want you to have to deal with me traveling so much, we would never have time to see each other. I thought what I did was better than the alternative." He pushed his mug to the side, intertwining his hands, and laying them on the table, eyes fixated on you.

"The alternative? You mean talking to me about it? Finding out that I had just talked to my boss, and come to an agreement that would have made it possible for me to travel with you. You mean the alternative? Like the fact that your mother was so excited when I told her that I was ready to marry you if you asked?" You let out a huff of frustration, and you catch a glimpse of the confusion flashing through Tom's eyes.

"You really think this is better than the alternative? Angry hot chocolate, in a cafe we both used to love. We could have been in love, but you decided we were better off being strangers."

"I... I didn't know."

"Obviously not!" The anger boiled in the pit of your stomach, and your hands were clenched around the fragile porcelain. "I appreciate you saying sorry, but it doesn't really do me any good now."

"I'm so so so sorry." His voice was softer, probably softer than you had ever heard it be, and it calmed you down immediately.

"Listen, I can't sit here and pretend that I have forgiven you completely, and I'm not even sure I can sit here pretending to be friends." He leans back in his seat, eyes focused on you like they have been almost the entire time, burning holes through you.

The silence took over again, the both of you just sitting there, coming to the realization that it's over.

"If you ever find it in you to forgive me... please call me." He's sincere, even if Tom's an amazing actor, he could never fake that tone in his voice. You knew that because it had always been reserved just for you. "I'm willing to wait for you."

You don't know how to answer, so you opt on not answering at all. Nodding quickly and standing up. The mug is still in your hand, and you retrieve your now dry coat, before walking back to Tom. You set the mug down on the table. "Thank you, Tom." You smile, maybe a small smile, but you're emotionally drained so you take it as a victory. And with a final look at the love of your life, you let go of the hot chocolate.