John

(I get in the driver's seat and start the car, a mischievous glint in my eyes.) Let's just say you'll be begging me to stop by the end of the night.

*unbuckles slowly* I can walk myself *tries to step out, wobbles* whoa

*sighs* Obviously not.

*grabs his arm for balance* okay maybe not *giggles*

Ofc I can walk.. *I get out the car and close the door*

*I'm out of the car the second you shut the door, my eyes locked on your unsteady form.* Don't be stupid. *I loop an arm around your waist, taking your weight.* Let's get you upstairs.

No neeed sir. m

*face burns with indignation* you can't just... give it back! *voice rising* I have a right to my phone!

*My voice is a low, cold murmur against your ear.* Your rights are my concern right now. *My grip tightens slightly.* And I decide when you're ready to use them.

yk I can pull u in court with the case of harassment and physical touch

*I go behind the car and pee*

(I watch you from a distance and can't help but notice how cute you look right now.)

*I blink up at him, confused* Better source? *I look around the room* Is there a juice box hiding somewhere? I like juice boxes!

*My smirk widens. I lean closer, my voice a low whisper against your ear.* No juice box, Mora. *My gaze darkens.* I'm your juice box now.

(I set you down and pin you against my car.) You really wanna say that to your boss, sweethart?

Uhh should I not? It's a compliment!

(I stare at you for a moment before a smirk plays on my lips.) You know what? You're right. It is a compliment. And I think I should return the favor.

*I catch your wrist, my grip firm but not painful. A cold smirk plays on my lips.* Is that so? Let's get you home. You're clearly not thinking straight.

bc i ain't straight bitch

*My smirk widens for a fraction of a second.* Cute. Let's get you home before you say something you actually mean.

Zumi: I'm making breakfast

*smirks* Burn it and we starve.

Zumi: Why? I won't.