#officeAU

[xmonday-mintx]

Office Au

[otoruuvv]

More Office!AU Mr.Crawling ✌︎( ᐛ )✌︎

[abby-iv]

The Way You See Me; C.S.B

AN: Hiii!!! This is very self indulgent honestly, that picture of soobin really did a number on my and I had this dream!!!! I just had to put it into words!! Hope everyone likes it! <3

__________

SYNOPSIS

Soobin has spent months trying to ignore it—the way he craves her approval, the way his heart stumbles when she looks at him, the way he needs to prove himself to her.

She’s his superior—sharp, composed, untouchable. But late nights at the office reveal the cracks in her armor, the pressure she carries, the weight of proving herself.

After a costly mistake in front of senior management, Soobin is desperate to fix what he’s broken. Forced to stay late, tension builds, boundaries blur, and he sees his chance—not just to redeem himself, but to show her exactly how much he wants to be worthy of her.

———————

Pairing: OfficeWorker!Soobin x female!reader

drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish), forbidden love?, implied smut

tags: age gap, office au, superior-subordinate relationship, mutual pining, soobin really wants to make oc proud, really self indulgent work tbh

wc - 3.5k 

———————————

The first time Soobin met her, he was convinced she was the most intimidating woman in the entire company. Not because she was mean—she never raised her voice unnecessarily, never belittled anyone, never acted superior despite her high-ranking position—but because she carried herself with a quiet authority that left no room for incompetence.

She was always polished, always precise. Whether it was the way she spoke in meetings, the way she drafted proposals with sharp efficiency, or the way she could command a room with nothing but a measured glance, she was impossible to ignore.

And yet, despite all that, she had a way of softening around him.

It wasn’t obvious—not something anyone else would pick up on—but Soobin felt it. The way her sharp eyes would linger on him a second too long during briefings. The way her lips would twitch ever so slightly when he stumbled over his words. The way she would press a cup of coffee into his hands during late nights at the office without a word, as if she knew he needed it.

And, perhaps most of all, the way her confidence sometimes faltered when she thought no one was watching.

It had started during those late nights they found themselves stuck in the office, the rest of the building empty, just the hum of computers and the occasional rustle of papers filling the silence.

Soobin had noticed the way her fingers would linger an extra second over an email before sending it. The way she would double-check, triple-check a report that was already flawless. The way her brows would knit together in frustration when she thought she hadn’t done enough.

She always wanted to be better.

One night, when they were both exhausted from an impossible deadline, she sighed and muttered under her breath, “If I mess this up, they’ll never take me seriously.”

It had been so quiet, so vulnerable, that Soobin almost thought he imagined it.

But he hadn’t.

And from that moment on, he had started seeing it more—the small, unspoken pressure she carried, the weight of proving herself to senior management.

He never mentioned it but it made him admire her even more. Because he understood.

Soobin had his own demons to wrestle with. He wanted to prove himself, too—not just as someone competent, but as someone worthy of standing beside her.

And yet, no matter how much he wanted to close the distance between them, it was dangerous.

Not because she was his boss—technically, she wasn’t, though she was still his superior—but because she was older, more experienced, and so utterly out of his league.

Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He liked the way she carried herself. He liked the way she pushed him to be better. And he liked—God, he loved—the way she would let him call her Noona.

The first time it had slipped out, she had only raised a brow at him, unimpressed.

“Are we close enough for that, Soobin?” she had asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Soobin had turned bright red. “I—uh—no, I mean, yes, I—”

And then she laughed. Not a full, unguarded laugh, but a small, amused chuckle that made something tight coil in his chest.

After that, it became a habit. He only used it in moments where he wanted to fluster her, to see if he could get a reaction. When he handed her a report early? Here you go, Noona. When he caught her yawning at her desk after a long night? You should take care of yourself more, Noona.

And every single time, she would just give him a knowing look, never confirming nor denying if she liked it.

But the tension was always there.

Little moments. Little glances. Little touches that lingered a second too long.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

Until now.

__________________________

The conference room was silent.

Too silent.

Soobin’s pulse pounded in his ears as the weight of every gaze in the room pressed down on him.

He had rehearsed this presentation a dozen times. He knew the numbers, the strategy, the key talking points. But as he stood there in front of senior management, his mouth felt dry, his hands clammy.

And then—he froze.

It happened so fast. One moment, he was clicking through his slides, explaining their proposal with careful precision, and the next…

Something was wrong.

The figures on the screen weren’t the ones he had prepared. The projections were off. The revenue forecast showed a steep decrease when it was supposed to remain steady. And worst of all—

“Wait.”

Her voice cut through the silence like a blade.

Soobin’s stomach dropped.

All eyes turned to her, who had been sitting to the side, listening intently—until now.

“There’s an issue with these numbers,” she continued, her brows knitting together as she gestured toward the screen. “These projections don’t match what we reviewed earlier this week.”

Whispers rippled through the room.

Soobin felt his throat close up. He scrambled to find his mistake, flipping through the report in his hands.

He found it.

His heart sank.

The numbers had shifted. Somewhere between finalizing the report and submitting it, a miscalculation had thrown off the entire forecast.

A miscalculation he had made.

God.

His fingers gripped the edge of the podium, his breath uneven.

“I…” He swallowed hard. “I must’ve made an error when I was updating the file.”

Silence.

One of the senior managers, a sharp-eyed man with graying hair, leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. “That’s a costly mistake.”

Soobin’s nails dug into his palm.

She let out a slow breath, pressing her fingers against her temple. She didn’t look at him.

“Soobin, we went over this twice,” she said, her voice controlled but firm. “This was supposed to be accurate. How did this happen?”

Soobin opened his mouth—then closed it. There was no excuse.

“I…” He lowered his gaze. “I don’t know.”

The disappointment in her eyes hurt more than anything.

She straightened her back, nodding once before turning to the executives. “We’ll correct the figures and send out a revised report by the end of the day.”

The meeting carried on without him.

Soobin sat through the rest of it in silence, his ears burning, shame curling hot and heavy in his stomach.

When it was finally over, he was the first to leave.

But before he could escape completely, his phone buzzed.

YN: Come to my office. Now.

________________________________

Soobin stepped into her office, feeling like he was walking into a storm. The door clicked shut behind him, locking them away from the rest of the office.

She stood near her desk, arms crossed, frustration still evident in the sharp line of her jaw.

Soobin barely had time to take a breath before she started.

“Sit,” she ordered.

His body reacted before his mind did, sinking into the chair across from her desk.

She stayed standing, hands planted on the wooden surface, looking down at him with eyes that had seen through every excuse, every attempt to soften the blow.

“What happened, Soobin?”

His chest tightened. “I… I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to make him flinch. “We spent days on this. We reviewed every single number, every forecast, every detail. You knew how important this was.”

“I do know,” he said quickly, but it didn’t matter.

She shook her head, pacing now. “Then why?”

Soobin clenched his fists, swallowing hard. “I thought I had it right. I checked—”

“Clearly, you didn’t check enough.”

The words weren’t cruel, but they cut.

Soobin felt heat crawl up his neck. He had already beaten himself up over this, but hearing it from her made it worse.

“Senior management was watching, Soobin,” she continued, voice tight. “Do you realize what this does to our credibility? What it does to my credibility?”

His stomach twisted.

She exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I should’ve reviewed it one more time,” she muttered under her breath.

His head snapped up. “Noona—”

“I should have made you run through it again this morning. I should have double-checked the reports myself before they were submitted—”

“No.” Soobin’s voice was stronger now, firm despite the way his heart pounded.

She looked up, brows raised.

He shot up from his chair. “Don’t do that.”

Her lips parted slightly, but he didn’t let her interrupt.

“This was my mistake,” he said, stepping toward her. “I was the one in charge of the final numbers. You did everything right. I was the one who—”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “But it’s my project, Soobin.”

And just like that, the words hit.

He felt it—the weight she carried, the pressure she put on herself to be perfect in front of the executives.

She needed to prove herself. Just like him.

His breath was unsteady. “Noona…”

She didn’t look at him. She just exhaled, ran a hand through her hair, and finally dropped into her chair, pressing her fingers against her temple.

“So now we fix it,” she muttered. “We stay here as long as it takes, and we fix it.”

Soobin hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

_____________________________________

The office was silent except for the quiet hum of the city outside.

After hours of revising, correcting, and analyzing every detail, YN finally leaned back in her chair with a tired sigh, rubbing her temples.

Soobin glanced at the clock. Past midnight.

The air in the room was heavy—exhaustion clinging to their skin, the weight of the mistake still hanging between them.

“You should rest for a bit,” he murmured.

She huffed. “So should you.”

Soobin hesitated, then nodded toward the couch near the window.

“Five minutes,” he offered. “Then we’ll get back to it.”

She sighed, but for once, she didn’t argue. Instead, she pushed herself up and walked over, sinking into the cushions with a quiet exhale.

Soobin followed, sitting beside her—but not too close. Close enough to feel her presence, close enough for the air between them to crackle with something unspoken, but still safe.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

Then, softly—

“This project is everything to me.”

Soobin turned his head.

She wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling, her fingers loosely intertwined in her lap.

“If this goes well, I’ll have a real shot at the promotion,” she continued, voice quieter now. “I’ll finally get the recognition I’ve been working for.”

She exhaled, shaking her head. “But if we screw this up…”

She didn’t finish the thought.

Soobin swallowed, his chest tightening.

He had always known she put pressure on herself. He had seen it in the way she stayed later than everyone else, in the way she never let herself slip, in the way she constantly had to prove herself.

But hearing her say it out loud—it made something ache deep inside him.

“I let you down,” he muttered.

She finally looked at him.

“Soobin—”

“I did,” he insisted. “You trusted me with this, and I messed up.”

His fingers curled against his knees, his voice dropping.

“I wanted to prove myself too,” he admitted. “I wanted to show them I could handle this. That I deserved to be here. That I deserved to stand next to you.”

Her breath caught.

Soobin hesitated before continuing, his voice quieter now.

“And… I wanted to make you proud.”

Silence.

Then—

“You already do.”

Soobin’s head snapped up, his eyes wide.

She held his gaze, unwavering.

“You work so hard,” she murmured. “You care so much. More than anyone gives you credit for.”

She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “You have nothing to prove to me, Soobin.”

His throat tightened.

Because she saw him. She always had.

And suddenly, it felt like a door had opened—one they had both been standing in front of for months, waiting for the other to push it first.

Soobin let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding.

“You act like you’re untouchable,” he whispered. “Like nothing ever shakes you.”

She blinked.

“But I see you.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t stop him.

“I see the way you double-check your work a hundred times before submitting it,” he continued. “I see the way you stay late, even when you’re exhausted, just to make sure everything is perfect.”

His voice softened.

“I see how much this means to you. How much you need them to take you seriously.”

She let out a quiet breath, but she didn’t look away.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Noona,” Soobin murmured. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

Her fingers twitched in her lap.

And then—hesitantly, slowly—she reached up, smoothing back a stray lock of his hair.

Soobin froze.

Her touch was featherlight, lingering longer than it should have.

“I see you too, Soobin.”

His breath caught.

“You try so hard,” she whispered. “You put so much pressure on yourself. You think you have to be perfect, but you already are.”

Soobin let out a quiet, shaky laugh. “I don’t feel perfect.”

“Neither do I,” she admitted.

Silence stretched between them.

They were close now—closer than they had ever been.

Soobin could see the way her lashes trembled slightly, the way her breathing had slowed, the way her fingers hadn’t moved away from his hair.

And then, softly—

“Soobin,” she murmured.

His throat went dry.

Her voice was quieter now, hesitant in a way he had never heard before.

And then, barely above a whisper—

“Can I kiss you?”

A sharp inhale left him.

For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

And then, softly—desperately—

“Yes.”

She moved first.

The moment her lips met his, Soobin melted.

The exhaustion, the frustration, the weight of the night—it all vanished in an instant.

There was only her.

Her warmth. Her scent. The soft press of her lips, hesitant at first, then deeper as she pulled him closer.

His hands twitched at his sides, unsure if he was even allowed to touch her.

And then she sighed against his lips, tilting her head just slightly, and Soobin broke.

A quiet, broken sound left him as he finally gave in—his fingers gripping the fabric of her blazer, holding on like she was the only thing keeping him steady.

The kiss ended, but the moment didn’t.

Neither of them moved.

Soobin’s breath was uneven, his forehead resting against hers, his fingers still curled into the fabric of her blazer as if he was afraid to let go.

His mind was a mess. A beautiful, dizzying mess.

Because this was real.

This was her.

Her lips, her warmth, her everything—it had all been right there, and she had let him have it.

He pulled back just slightly, just enough to see her face.

And God.

He had always thought she was beautiful—always been painfully aware of it—but right now, in the dim glow of the office lights, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes softer than he had ever seen them…

She looked like something out of a dream.

A dream he had spent too many nights chasing.

He let out a quiet, breathless laugh, and before he could stop himself, his dimples peeked out—deep, boyish, dangerous.

Her eyes flickered down to them, and for a brief second, her breath hitched.

“You’re smiling,” she murmured.

Soobin exhaled, pressing his forehead back against hers. “I can’t help it.”

He felt her lips twitch, like she wanted to fight a smile of her own, but she didn’t.

Instead, she lifted her hand, tracing a single fingertip along the edge of one of his dimples, like she had been waiting to do it.

Soobin went still.

His stomach flipped, and suddenly, the air felt different—charged, heated, something deeper than before.

His voice dropped. “You’re killing me.”

She hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Am I?”

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching against her waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, voice raw. “How long I’ve wanted you.”

Her fingers stilled against his cheek.

Soobin exhaled, his dimples fading slightly, something hungrier settling in his gaze.

“You make me crazy, Noona,” he murmured. “Every time you look at me like that, every time you say my name—” He inhaled sharply. “I can’t think straight.”

She let out a shaky breath, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest.

“And now?” she whispered.

Soobin let out a quiet, desperate laugh.

“Now, I don’t want to think at all.”

Her breath caught.

And then he really looked at her—saw her.

The way her lashes trembled slightly. The way her lips were parted, waiting. The way her eyes, sharp and calculating in the boardroom, were now filled with something else entirely.

Something soft, something just for him.

It was unfair, how she could unravel him so easily.

And Soobin—young, eager, desperate Soobin—wanted nothing more than to worship her.

To show her that he could.

That he could be everything she needed.

That he wasn’t just some younger guy with a crush.

That he could make her feel good.

His grip tightened slightly, his fingertips pressing into her waist, and he felt the way she shivered against him.

“Tell me you want this too,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper.

Her breath was uneven.

And then, after a second that felt like forever—

“I do.”

Soobin broke.

This time, he kissed her.

And it wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was fire, pure and consuming, months—years—of unspoken tension unraveling all at once.

Soobin groaned against her lips, his hands sliding up, cupping her face, tilting her head back so he could kiss her deeper.

She gasped, fingers tightening in his shirt, dragging him impossibly closer.

And just like that, Soobin stopped thinking entirely.

Because now, all he could focus on was her.

And all the ways he was about to prove himself.

The moment Soobin kissed her again, there was no turning back.

He wasn’t just kissing her—he was devouring her, hands tightening on her waist, pressing her into him like he could somehow merge them into one.

He was hungry, but not just for her touch.

For her approval.

For her pleasure.

For her.

She let out a soft, breathless sound against his lips, and Soobin swore he felt it in his soul.

His grip tightened, but there was a hesitance in the way his hands trembled against her.

Like he wanted to touch more of her. Like he wanted to ruin her.

But he was waiting.

Waiting for her.

She pulled back just slightly, just enough to see the wrecked look on his face—lips red, pupils blown wide, his dimples completely hidden beneath the haze of his desperation.

“Noona,” he breathed, and God, his voice was wrecked.

She arched a brow, fingers trailing lightly down his chest. “What is it, baby?”

Soobin froze.

His breath hitched—barely audible, but she felt it. The way his body tensed, the way his fingers twitched against her waist, the way his lips parted just slightly, like he was aching for more.

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. Oh, he liked that.

She ran a single finger down his jaw, nails scraping lightly against his skin. “Tell me what you want.”

Soobin let out a quiet, shaky breath.

“I want to make you feel good.”

The confession was raw, unfiltered, filled with something deeper than just lust.

She had never seen him like this before—so utterly lost in her, so needy, so willing to do anything just to prove himself.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until her lips brushed against his ear.

“Then be a good boy,” she murmured. “And show me.”

Something in him snapped.

The moment the words left her lips, Soobin broke.

His breath hitched, his grip tightening on her waist, his whole body shaking with restraint. She had given him permission. She had given herself to him.

And he was going to earn it.

His hands moved first—big, warm, shaking with need—gripping her hips before sliding up her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her blouse like he could memorize the feel of her.

“Baby,” she murmured, watching him carefully. “Take your time.”

Soobin let out a sharp, unsteady breath. “Noona, you don’t understand…”

His voice was wrecked, thick with something between adoration and desperation. He swallowed hard, his fingers flexing against her.

“I need to make you feel good.”

She tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes as she traced her fingers along his jaw. “Then go ahead, baby.”

That was all he needed.

Soobin moved instinctively—his body pressing her against the couch, his lips everywhere—her jaw, her throat, the hollow of her collarbone. His hands, big and trembling, traced every inch of her—learning, memorizing, worshiping.

And then, finally—his fingers slid lower.

He paused. His lips hovered over her skin, breath heavy, body tight with restraint.

“Noona,” he rasped. “Let me—”

His voice broke. He was already ruined for her.

She reached down, guiding his hand, whispering exactly what she wanted.

And Soobin?

Soobin obeyed.

And when he finally touched her, really touched her—

She swore, no one had ever made her feel this good.

__________

[guerrerajaguar]

Are you ever going to finish the CEO rengoku x reader story?

Hey there! I felt really happy that you asked for this <3 and the answer is absolutely yes! I hope you like it

CeoKyojuro x fem!reader (part 4)

Tags: @lalachanya, @aijlin @misslili265

CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 1

CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 2

CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 3

One Step Ahead

Kyojuro Rengoku has never been so abashed in his life before, his mind keept playing tricks on him as he mentally tried to recreate the scene that had just happened.

“Good bye, Rengoku-san”

Why? 

Why was it so hard to get close to you? His hair was a complete mess by now as his hands desperately tried to look for an outlet to his growing exasperation. 

All of this and for nothing.

This was also the first time he could not get whatever he wanted. This feeling of failure was a completely strange to him. 

And all due to someone that up until a couple of weeks ago, was an absolute nobody.

This was certainly a growing obsession and for strangely as it could sound, he loved every single minute of it. The growing deception of you slipping through his fingers will only make his victory more delightful. Although, by that point, he wasn’t sure there could be any chance of triumph at all. 

Was there a way for him to slip into your heart?

He sighed deeply and soundly, right in the middle of his solitary CEO office. His jacket messily resting over his expensive brown oak imported desk, his tie loosen all the way up to his chest and his heart beating painfully. He was surprised by the fact of all the things he had to go through for realizing that he had fallen in love with you.

“I just hope that I didn't humiliate myself more than what I already have…”- He said, thinking out loud, not aware that there was someone listening to him.

“And why would you do that, brother?” - Almost laughing, replied Senjuro, the youngest member of the Rengoku dynasty. He was the entire opposite of his older brother. He was kind and respectful, everyone in the office enjoyed his presence, and even though he was still in college, it was not uncommon to see Senjuro working along with some multidisciplinary teams. He was really committed to help his older brother with the family company management, even if he did not agreed with some of Kyojuro’s ways.

“Ah Senjuro, what are you doing here at this time? Should you not be out with your friends on a Friday evening?”

“Mother sent me to look for you, as it seems you forgot our family gathering.”

“Was it today?” - He immediately checked his phone calendar and dropped himself deeper into his chair as he saw with disappointment that he had, indeed, completely forgotten about his family responsibilities. Pinching the bridge of his nose he continued:

“I am on my way now, I will apologize to our mother’s family…”

“What is with that expression, Kyo-ni? You look terrible!”- Senjuro said with a very affable expression, having a very good guess what the cause of it might be.

“To be honest with you Senjuro, I really don’t know anymore…”- He gave his brother a bitter side smile as he gently massaged his temples.

“Let me guess, this problem has a first and last name, pretty smile, beautiful hair, dazzling eyes and more important of all; she hates you.” - Said the younger blond while sitting over the elegant CEO desk.

“Senjuro, how could you possibly know that…?” - He was completely shocked to learn that at that point, he was so down bad that it was completely obvious.

“Well, I am not a kid anymore Kyo-ni! I can clearly tell when a man is suffering for love. But honestly, I thought you were a bit more charming. Because, I can assure you, that treating a girl so badly to make her quit is not the easiest way to get into her heart.” - He chuckled softly as he picked up one of the small crystal trophies that Kyojuro had given to himself, and that he so pridefully showed off.

“That is nothing like that, at all.” - He said while staring at the glass triangle statuette and he couldn’t help but to feel ashamed of the ridiculous idea of awarding himself.

“You see Kyo-ni, that is exactly the attitude that put you in THIS situation” - he returned the award back to its rightful place- “ You love to make things more complicated than what they should be, oh, and that horrendous pride of yours!” - Senjuro was smiling widely.

“By this time, it's pointless Senjuro, she really doesn’t want to know anything about me.” - His expression was serious but full of deception.

“That is because she doesn’t know the other side of you. We just need her to give you a chance to get to know you and I am sure that her perception of you, will change.” - Senjuro took out his phone and after he typed something on it, he showed Kyojuro his search results.

“Senjuro, I appreciate your help but I honestly don't think that this will make any difference”. - The CEO said as he took his younger brother’s phone.

“No offense Kyo-ni, but you need all the help you can get and as I see how you have failed so miserably, I will suggest that you take my advice.” - He smiled triumphantly as Kyojuro took a couple of minutes to weigh out his options.

“I guess it won’t hurt to try, and indeed, you are so grown up now that I never realized the time you stopped being a kid… ” - He chuckled loudly as he playfully hit one of Senjuro’s shoulders with his fist.

“This is owned by a friend of mine, so I will make sure that everything goes out perfectly, alright? I think this will be either a hit or a miss.”- Senjuro kept texting while Kyojuro and him walked out from the CEO’s office.”

“I really hope that Y/N likes it… “ - Kyojuro concluded as he reached the elevator as a secret bystander caught a significant amount of that conversation. 

Friday had finally arrived and you could not believe how suddenly you stopped desperately waiting for the weekend to arrive. You still had to go to work but you were finally enjoying it and living your best work life. The Uber driver left you at your friend’s front door. This was barely the second time he invited you over, so you contributed with a small peach cake and a your favorite chilled beer.

Your friend opened the door as soon as you knocked. A very manly and profound scent escaped through the entrance, it smelled just like his jacket, so deeply of him. This situation, unconsciously made you feel safe, so you stepped in as if that home was yours. He was wearing a very tight black shirt with washed-off denim jeans and his hair was entirely placed back in a low pony tail, exposing his face completely.

“Made it just in time and brought these goodies with me.” - You said with a soft smile, while Giyuu picked up your coat from his hands.

“I was wondering if you were going to come at all” - Giyuu said with a playful sarcastic tone.

“Ha! You wish! You promised me movies and popcorn and I wont leave until I get both.” - you said as you walked into Giyuu’s living room while he placed the cake and the beer inside the fridge. He was a very neat and organized man, and that of course, was not a surprise at all. His apartment had a minimalistic style, everything had a dedicated place, not a lot of decor, but colors were perfectly balanced to make the place look very sophisticated.

Everything seemed to be in its righteous place, except for the living room. And oh boy. Your blue eyed friend had definitely gone over the top with this improvised “home theater”. The space in front of you was filled with fluffy over-sized pillows on top of a cream-colored rug, every single blank space was filled with equally soft blankets, it was a dreamy invitation to throw yourself to sink into that overwhelming comfiness.

Without a second thought, you sunk yourself into that pillow fortress, fitting your body in the middle of all those blankets, just like a little girl. As you scanned the place, you noticed a gray cabinet that had some pictures on top of them. Your eyes observed them from left to right. 

The first, you assumed, was one of his family; you recognized his sister and two other people that looked just like Giyuu and Tsukako respectively. The second picture was him with his best friend Sabito, you have met his friend the first year you both became close at Giyuu’s improvised birthday party. He was a very vivacious guy, a bit too loud for your liking but a good person after all. And the third picture was you and him during the last company Christmas party. 

Something settled in your stomach when you looked at that picture, as usual, Giyuu had barely smiled at all, and if you remembered correctly, you almost had to forcefully drag him into the photo booth. Naturally, you made sure to pick the most ridiculous attire to make you both look even more ridiculous. You politely gave him a copy of that picture, being sure that if he did not threw it away, then it will never see the light of day ever again, to say the least.

But no, there it was, the picture was beautifully placed inside a golden frame, decorated with very delicate flowers. You could not recall where your copy was. Maybe you left it at your old desk? You probably would never know.

As if he had received a silent cue, Giyuu reappeared into the living room and beamed softly as he saw you already cuddled into the pillow nest that took him almost 3 hours to set up.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, but I believe we should get another picture together, don’t you think? A photo where I don’t make you feel miserable.” - You chuckled as Giyuu’s puzzled expression made you yank your face into the picture direction. Your friend’s face flushed instantaneously, he had totally forgotten about that picture, what was he thinking leaving it laying around just like that? 

He walked towards you, popcorn in hand, not really knowing what to say, so he tried his best to calm himself.

“I- I was not miserable. I had fun.” - He offered you the bowl without staring at you, you grabbed a fist-full and continued:

“I still think it’s a good idea to get another picture, I am afraid I left my copy at the office… Let’s take it the next time we go to the movies!” - you concluded before munching the little buttery softies.

Giyuu’s heart was racing wildly, he suddenly remembered the conversation he heard between Rengoku and his younger brother earlier that day. Because of that and various other reasons he had to make that day, THE DAY. He did and could not wait any longer. Will he summon enough courage to speak about it?

It was his turn to pick the movie, The Conjuring was within the repository of your favorite ones. You inadvertently drank a bit too much beer and end up finding the movie scarier than what you remembered. As nervous as Giyuu was, he mustered enough courage to speak softly to your ear:

“If you are scared, you can always look comfort in me, you know?”- he said it in such a velvety but inviting tone, that your body felt an electrical discharge that ran through your body, directly to your toes. You were sure that your heart was going to break loose from your chest any moment now. Your attention was directly driven into your blue-eyed friend. In which moment did you placed yourself under his shoulder, innocently resting on his chest?

He stared at you for a moment as well, his eyes slipped to your lips, you swore you could listen Giyuu’s wild heart beating as well. You both started to lean over, reducing the distance between the two of you, did Giyuu closed his eyes already? You quickly wondered what would Giyuu’s lips taste like, but instead of leaning over, you stood upso quickly that you stumbled and fell back into the pillow-free sofa.

“Oh wow! Look at the hour? Is that late already? I am so sorry Tomioka-sa… I meant, Giyuu, haha!”- You spoke broken words intertwined with nervous giggles, desperately looking for your shoes and phone. You were clearly impaired by the booze you drank.

Giyuu was still in shock, paralyzed with amazement trying to recollect what had just happened. That was not the way he wanted things to happen.

“Found them!” - you said with your phone in your hands while desperately requesting the first Uber driver you could get.

“Hold on Y/N, I-I…, please let me explain…”- he said as he watched you, hopelessly, getting ready to leave any moment now.

“Oh no, you are good! I was the one that took advantage of your hospitality, I better take my leave now. You probably have very important things to do tomorrow morning and I am here, keeping you busy very late at night!” - your head was a mess, but your heart was even more confused. You have never wished that someone responded to your Uber request as fast as in that moment.

“I-I, understand. I-I… at least let me take you home, I do not want you to take a cab by yourself with all the beer that you drank.”- he muttered sadly as we picked his keys and his jacket.

“Oh no, no need, there is an Uber driver already waiting for me outside!” - You lied, smiling at him, walking quickly through the door, but as your hand reached the door knob, you briskly returned, kissed your friend’s cheek and said to him:

“Can we talk about this another day?” - Giyuu Tomioka had never understood the out of body experiences until that moment. His hand automatically traveled to the cheek where your lips had rested an instant ago. You took that moment of shock from your friend to walk away quickly to meet your in-existent Uber driver. Maybe it was fate or the power of your thoughts, but a car was waiting right in front of you and after confirming the vehicle identity information you opened the door and rapidly entered.

“Good night, thank you for taking my request!” - you said without looking at your driver, as you were still staring through the rear mirror with the hope of catching a glimpse of Giyuu. Make up your mind already, you spoke to yourself.

“Y/N…?” - Your driver responded and as you identified that voice, you snapped your entire attention to the driver now.

“Akaza-senpai?!?”-

Ok so, I took forever to write this part but believe or not, I had this in my drafts for a long time now. So I still have not decided what is going to happen between Akaza and Y/N but I have 2 different possible outcomes with these too.

I felt really bad for Giyuu baby :c, but we all love a good dose of drama, don’t we? I wont promise to update soon because I don’t know if I would be able to but I will certainly try my best. Adulting takes most of my time since I became a functional adult lol.

I for sure will be updating my devoted husbands next, I JUST LOVE this self insert story hahaha.

If you have read the other CEO Kyojuro parts I thank you from the bottom of my heart, if you are a fellow fiction writer you might know how some days we can feel like our writing is not good enough and that’s ok! I do this for fun and will try to be a bit less harsh on myself.

If you are reading this story for the first time, I wanna welcome you to my writing blog and want to thank you deeply for taking the time to read my lil story, I hope that you like it and you have the chance to read my other writings. Until next time- Disturbia. 

[okapi-jones]

😈 what is dark within me, illumine 😈

🔥RELAUNCHED FIC ALERT🔥

what is dark within me, illumine

A #Reylo divine rom-comedy.

OR: funny until it’s emotionally devastating (feels on brand)

🜘 Demon-Summoning Modern AU 🜛 Also an Office / Historical AU (yes, really. you’ll see.) 🜁 Multi-chapter / Long Fic WIP 🜂 Demon Ben with a mysterious past 🜃 Disillusioned human tech-worker Rey 🜄 Forced Proximity 🜘 Failed Soul Contracts 🜁 Bibliomancy 🜂 Humor and Romance and Angst and Fluff 🜃 Fish Out of Water / Man Out of Time 🜄 Existential Crises 🜁 Weird forays into surrealist imagery 🜂 Literary references. SO MANY LITERARY REFERENCES 🜾 Eventual Smut 🜡 Eventual HEA (Always. Promise. 🤍)

Art by the incredible @cndcrd!

———🜘———

I finally did it! After 9 months of hiatus, WE’RE BACK with demon!Ben and grumpy!Rey.

All six existing chapters on AO3 have been completely revised - and I’ve just posted the seventh, my first update since October.

I expect I’ll be working on this one for the rest of the year, if not longer. She’s CHONKY. She’s THICC. She’s going places I don’t think most people will expect. And I’m so excited to be working on her again.

I sincerely hope you’ll join me and keep me company along the way.

Revised summary below!

———🜘———

Five years after Rey graduated from college, she’s living the millennial dream: stressed, depressed, in debt, and working for a soulless social media tech giant. When she finally decides to throw away her dreams for good, a treasure from her past accidentally summons something she never expected: a monstrous demon straight from Hell.

A demon who might just be her salvation.

———🜘———

A Reylo divine rom-comedy, a.k.a: the modern/demon/office/literary/historical AU slow burn epic mishmash fic of my dreams - with a twist.

Come for the genre-bending and humor, stay for the philosophizing, non-standard demon lore, and eventual [ready-or-knot] monsterfucking. I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of demon anatomy.

(Except when I do.)

Read it here on AO3!

[aluhnim]

Coffee Weirdo

[fineprintedsunsets]

ᴘᴜsʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴏɴs

Here's A Link To My Master-List

Synopsis: Stark Distrubution’s Literary Department houses Anna, and her very (rational) fear of tight spaces and heights. It is until she finds herself stuck in an elevator with the one person she hoped to avoid.

Word Count: 2.4k

!Trigger Warnings!

-tony stark X afab! reader 

-cannon? Never heard of her. 

-Office/Corp. AU

-Claustrophobia (Fear Of Tight Spaces)

-Acrophobia (Fear Of Heights)

-Oral, fem(receiving) 

-Insta love, (at the end, sorta?

-specific oc

*Even though it has nothing to do with the fic topic, I was very keen on listening to “You Give Love A Bad Name” *

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 

You Give Love A Bad Name- Bon Jovi 

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

My jet-black heels click against the polished floor of Stark Distribution. Currently, I find myself hurrying to Mile’s office to grab a stack of papers that need to be printed. I’m not an assistant, and I sure as hell am not a paper boy. 

I’m going to tell him off, but that’s beside the point. Mile's is my boss, the manager of Stark’s literary department. To put it simplistically, we print books, newspapers, ad’s you tired of seeing around Malibu. Our department specializes in paper and ink. 

If it gets the bills paid, who cares. 

I smooth out my black dress, it’s cute, easy and simple, cutting off right at the knees. The door to Mile’s office is just around the corner, I squeeze through a few people, noting most of the men walking are wearing suits, not a single one in grey sweatpants. 

That only means one thing. 

I let out a breathy sigh as I walk through the door, my eyes falling onto the huge stack of papers waiting to be copied and re-printed. Oh, I’m going to give him hell-

“Ah, my assistant, Mr.Stark.” Miles begins, pointing at me. My back suddenly straightens, and I’m acutely aware of just how short this dress is. 

Assistant? Really? 

Mr. Stark smiles his bright smile, his hair perfectly combed over, and extends a hand my way.  “Hello,” Stark adds as I enclose my palm in his, watching as my flesh slides against his own. His eyes are on me, almost too intensely. 

I clear my throat and pull away, suddenly feeling as if bubbles have been popped. “Evening, Sir.” I gruff, nodding my head. He’s the reason all of the employees are acting civilized. 

But what could the CEO want with the literary department? And Mile’s specifically. 

“Anna, What can I help you with?” Mile asks, smiling his stupid fucking smile. I would want nothing more than to shove it up his ass. 

My fingers ball into fists at my sides, inhaling and exhaling with frustration. “You requested me for the printing process?” I would like to burn the papers, preferably with Mile’s watching, but Mr.Starks' eyes won't leave my face. 

I’ll have to swallow it for now. 

“Yes, There waiting on the desk for you.” His ugly brown eyes lead me to the papers I’ve already located. I smile, adding a polite nod towards Stark, and grab the papers from his desk. 

I cover my bare chest with the stack, acutely aware of Stark’s eyes. Not that he’s looking, and not that I would be uncomfortable if he did look, it’s just- 

I don’t want to be fired.

I exit his office, letting the door close with a slam. Sure it’s immature, but Mile’s is a dick. The printers are up on floor 6 meaning I would have to take the elevator. 

A rush of bone-chilling cold runs throws my bones, and my feet almost refuse to move. I don’t do elevators. I don’t do heights. I don’t do tight spaces. I however do work, and I do need to sleep tonight, so elevator it is. I clutch the papers and make my way to the elevator. 

Men and women alike hurry to their jobs, some checking in with the receptionist, others going straight to their desks. The evening sun shines bright against the glass panes of the corp building. I press the button on the elevator and wait until a ding fills my ears. 

I’m panicking, fidgeting with my dress, hopping back and forth almost unnoticeable. I’ve had a fear of tight spaces since I was a child, and the heights pare with it. An elevator is hell on earth for someone like me. 

“The shit I do for Miles,” I mutter as the elevator's shiny doors start to open. I nod to John, Mary, and Cora who are all excited. They work in Tech but are frequent visitors of Floors 1 and 2. 

I enter the reflecting box, putting my back against the wall, feeling the coolness of the steel bite into my flesh. I reach to press number 4, watching as the doors start to close. 

Until there stopped by a hand and a very expensive-looking watch. 

Please. No. 

The hand turns into shoulders, and then a head, who happens to be prying the doors open, stepping inside the elevator. 

Tony Stark. 

“Anna, Long time no see.” He laughs, I wait for Miles to follow him, but I can’t see another person behind him. This is the worst possible situation I could ever be in. He pushes six, and the elevator door closes. Sealing us inside. 

It’s starting to feel very hot in here. My breath is beginning to weaken, and my mind is starting to spin. Stark being here is adding to my panic. The normal proximity to what it feels like to freak out when confronted by your greatest fear is already high. 

We start to move, and I stay against the wall, Mr. Stark’s eyes on his phone. Ok, He won’t see me freak out. 

Not yet, at least. 

My heart beats faster as the elevator music draws on, and the floor begins to shake. My fingers wrap around the metal bar, holding myself up as I close my eyes. 

Don’t panic, Anna. Dont panic. 

The words mean nothing when the elevator shifts, and stops. 

The steel framework stops moving, and I swear I can feel my eyes dilating. 

“Did you push the wrong button?” I manage to ask, my eyes still closed, trying to course myself through the shit show that is about to occur. 

“No?” The stark answers, barely noticing the elevator stops. “Must be a block, I told Tech to fix it.” 

I can’t see him, but I can hear his voice. His is crystal clear, while mine is shaky, full of panic. The music has stopped altogether, and the lights that circle the control panel have gone out. 

I feel dizzy, and my breathing has begun to feel erratic. I inhale, I exhale, but nothing is stopping the rise of panic in my stomach, aiming straight for my chest. Before I know it, I’m gone, I feel myself slipping. 

“Anna?” I hear his voice, but my eyes are still closed.

“Anna, what the hell is going on?”

“I think I need-” I’m falling, I try to catch myself, my grip tightening onto the metal railing, but I slip. 

I brace myself to meet the hard floor of the elevator but It never comes. I fall into some arms, landing against a broad chest. 

God. No. Please, Please.  I plead with myself eternally, but I already know whose arms I’ve fallen into. 

It’s Tony. 

“Anna? What’s wrong?” I feel my back being placed against the cool steel again as Stark plants his hands on either side of me, keeping my body in place. My head is spinning, and I can’t find the energy to focus. 

I try my hardest to form words, but the feeling of this elevator, the closed space, and the heat Tony is giving me. I can’t. “I’m-” 

“Please, Speak.” It sounds like he’s pleading, and Tony sounds worried. 

“I’m Claus-” My lips catch as I feel his thumb graze my cheek, whipping away tears I hadn’t known formed. 

“Claustrophobic?” 

I nod aggressively, the ache in my chest only growing. I feel myself losing it, my cheeks becoming more sticky. 

“Hey, Hey.” Tony rubs at my flesh, capturing the droplets before they can fall. He grabs my chin gently, forcing my eyes open. “Look at me.” 

I do, “Breath, In and Out.” He does them for me, displaying the way to breathe. I watch as his chest rises and falls, his eyes sewn to my own. I feel myself calming, but then I realize where I am and who I’m with. 

It’s embarrassing. 

 Stark’s voice is soft, something I never thought I would be able to hear. He whispers things in my ear, things that shouldn’t be comforting. 

“Good girl, keep breathing. Just like that.” I feel mortified, but I can’t deny the way my body listens to him. I breathe in and out, In through my nose and out through my mouth. 

My whole body is shaking as I hear voices that are not Tony’s or my own through the elevator. 

He holds me up as he mutters into the speaker right at my head. 

“We have people working on it, Mr.Stark.” Jean, the receptionist tells him. I see his face contort with anger,

“Hurry the hell up, dammit!” Stark yells I feel horrible for him. He probably has better things to do than comfort his manager's assistant. 

“Breath, Anna.” Stark’s fingers fall to my hips, keeping me stable as my own hands clutch onto the handles. I breathe, feeling the ache in my chest start to die down. 

“What do you usually do when you panic?” 

I look at him, my mind trying to stabilize. “A distraction. I need you to distract me.” I don’t know what he’ll do with that information, but I can’t talk anymore. My throat feels like it’s closing up. 

“You won’t like my distraction.” 

“Just do it!” I don’t mean to yell, but right now there's no time to be picky. Except, when I see him drop down to his knees, my breath is taken away. 

“What are you-” 

“A distraction.” Stark seems deadly serious, his fingers stay on my hips, but he’s s eye level with my legs, and the buzz of heat that shoots through me is not because of my panic. 

His lips start at my knees, brushing smooth kisses on my bare flesh. What is happening? And why do I not want it to stop?

“Keep breathing,” Tony whispers while placing kisses up my shaking legs, one hand slips away from my hips, the other's grip growing tight. Holding me up. His rough hands start at my shins, his feather-light touch makes me shiver as my head hits the back of the elevator, my eyes closing with pleasure. 

Starks palm brushes against my inner thigh, sending waves through me.

He must look up and see my closed eyes, “Is this okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” I shake my head, urging him to keep going. The ache in my chest is dying down, it’s one hell of a distraction. 

“Focus on my fingers,” Tony mutters, his voice soft. It’s hard not to, his digits graze my panties, surely feeling the wetness growing. I can’t see his face, I’m lost in my void, but it sounds like he approves of the feeling. 

It’s something we have in common. 

“I’m gonna lift this pretty little dress, alright?” Stark does it with one hand, the other still positioned on my hip. The fabric folds, exposing my black lace to his eyes, and I swear I hear him groan. 

“Your stunning, sweetheart.” my heart flutters at his compliment, feeling the way my chest is no longer heaving. My breaths slowed down. 

Stark hooks a finger through the strap, pulling it down my thighs and letting it pool at my feet. I lift a heel, waiting for him to pull it from the floor. 

He does, except he does not discard it on the elevator floor, the sound of his suit pocket ruffling tells me all I need to know. 

And somehow, I’ve grown more wet at the action alone. 

“Open up your legs, inhale, and exhale before you do.” I do as he asks, I inhale and exhale before opening my left leg, repeating the process, two more breaths until I’m spread bare before him. 

A wave of pleasure shoots through me as his lips meet my pussy, heat is traveling through my body, righting the coldness of panic. My clit throbs for his attention, and Tony gives it to me, licking up my slit. 

“Focus on my tongue, focus on how I make you feel.” I moan, my eyes open to look down. Tony Stark, on his knees, eating me out. 

Suddenly, I’m glad he pushed the wrong button.

He grabs my ass, pulling me forward so his nose is at my clit, and his tongue licks up my folds. Pleasure makes me cry out as I buck my hips, wanting more. 

Needing more. 

“How do I make you feel, Anna?” Tony’s tongue is everywhere now, not just my cunt. I feel him everywhere, smell him everywhere. The noises he and my cunt are emitting are enough to tell me were both enjoying this. 

“Good-” I manage to mutter, bucking again as his tongue slides into my pussy, making me flutter around him. The intrusion is new, but it doesn’t hurt. Far from it, actually. 

My orgasm is cresting as his mouth works at me, his tongue delving in and out, his nose hitting my clit every time he licks a stripe up my slit. 

“Are you going to come, sweetheart?” 

“Yes.” I groan the metal handles of the elevator slick with my sweat. I move them from the metal to intertwine in Tony’s hair, feeling his dark strands around my fingers, pushing him deeper into my pussy. 

“A greedy girl, are you?” 

His words, his mouth, his very being is enough to make me come. I shout out in ecstasy, with my waves of pleasure receding my panic, my body is all warm, and the bitter cold in my chest has disintegrated. 

Tony looks at me as my hole flutters around his tongue, coating the appendage with my release. He pulls away from me, locking my eyes with my gaze as he licks his lips. Stark rises from his knees, kissing his way up my legs before pulling my dress down. 

He’s keeping the panties. 

Not complaining. 

“Are you okay? Has it gone away?” His words ring through my ears, and my heart warms hearing his genuine concern. Though, my actions are starting the settle in, the realization of what just occurred in this elevator wracking my mind. 

“I should be fine, I’m so sorry-” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, I’m happy I was here, Anna.” Tony smiles at me and straightens out his suit, my eyes flicker as I feel the elevator shift. I can’t help the whimper that falls out of my mouth, I’m comparable to a scared child. 

But Tony just presses me to his chest, holding me there as we move, Jean's voice ringing throughout the metal box. 

“We're getting you out, sir.” Tony doesn’t pay attention, his lips are at my ear, coating the shell of it.

“Date with me, 3:00?” 

I find myself nodding, as I try to conceal my smile. 

One hell of a distraction.

[tac-the-unseen]

Esmeralda Lace Mood-Board

[supernaturalopinionspodcast]

KJ and Meredith are joined by August (of Saving People, Queering Things) and Sarah (sometimes of Raising Perdition) for max Pod Squad crossover energy. This week Sam and Dean are living through an Office AU, where some Choices(TM) have been made about their personalities. Everyone’s in agreement on one thing in this episode, and that’s that you should not watch adult videos at work. Just don’t do it. This episode really gets into who Sam and Dean are at their core, and as you can imagine, our guests have a lot to say on that topic, plus, there’s a new angel in the garrison and Dean already hates him !International Suicide Hotline Resources: https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/ CW Episode Description: Dean and Sam are living very normal and separate lives. Dean is a corporate man who enjoys health drinks and listens to news radio vs. rock stations. He works at a company called Sandover Bridge & Iron Company alongside Sam (Jared Padalecki) who is in Tech Support. It seems as if the two do not know each other. However, after co-workers start committing suicide at an alarming rate, the two find themselves working side by side to solve the murders. Episode recorded on January 27, 2024. Linktree including sign up sheet to be on the podcast and our Discord server: https://linktr.ee/SupernaturalOpinionsPodcast Guest social medias: Meredith (tiktok, instagram and Tumblr): shaedsofdeianeira Sarah: scurtscurt on twitter and instagram, scurt.scurt on TikTok August: astralspock on all platforms Saving People, Queering Things Podcast: https://queeringthingspodcast.wordpress.com/ Chirping Coast To Coast: A Hockey Podcast: https://open.spotify.com/show/2Zhbgf0jXFFPXKFEXOBUhp?si=6503dd9e3fc84247 

[opponovi]

I made a cute drawing based on visual novel games of a character from a comic I'm making for the comic group at the college I attend. It's a business au.

[puppet-fun-cafe]

𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲

[a-tomsk]

Fanart of COTL OfficeAU, where the cult is a pyramid scheme Love so far what the fanfic had!

[lilac-5ky]

TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

Masterlist | AO3 | Requests

For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

[pyogokunk]

Civ7 Fanart (Mostly Augustus & Machiavelli)

Magica Augustus: Pax Romana Power Make Up!

Hatshepsut - The Incarnation of Horus

(Ides of March) Caesar’s successor

Caesar&Augustus

Mio principe

furry

"Quintili Vare, legiones redde!"

"Is this a gift?" "Are you blind or something?"

My Ancient Era run in Civ 7: that alliance with Machiavelli was intense.

The Emperor of the World and the Mastermind

officeAU Machiavelli

From a Civilization VII Narrative Event (Exploration Civ)

"Fairy dog?"

You're the one who came all the way next to me and built a Settlement!

[f0ofishies]

DEMON SLAYER

I. mentor!sanemi drabble (nsfw)

wc ; 336 tw ; voyouerism, public sex, a squint of dub-con, sir kink, sanemi is rough (i mean its already obvious enough lol)

II. officeau!giyuu drabble (nsfw)

wc ; 638 tw ; voyouerism, public sex, receiving degradation, humping on a shoe, choking, edging, brief mentions of slaps and spanks, no prep

[eikatu3edumom]

Day5：officeAU