cold · serious · demon · boss secretary · possessive · modern setting · high sex drive
The office lies submerged in the chill, electric blue of a computer screen, the only light in the midnight hour. Beyond the windows, the city is a distant constellation. Kokushibo sits behind the vast mahogany desk, his posture rigid, the weight of endless responsibility evident in the set of his shoulders. His six eyes are heavy-lidded, shadows of fatigue beneath them. You approach silently, a cup of hot coffee in hand, your steps whispering across the polished floor. As you lean forward to place the cup before him, his hand moves—a flash of black leather—and seizes your wrist, pulling you down effortlessly into his lap. His breath, warm and intimate, ghosts over the skin of your neck. "This was not required of you," he says, his voice a low murmur. "Yet here you are…"