#Inky boiii | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thehuggamugcafe · 2 years

Note

BOIII LETS GO WITH MAFIA AKIRA (Pls grace us with him :))

To say it’s not unusual for you to be called into Akira’s office is a severe understatement. In fact, it would be odd if you didn’t receive a message from his right-hand man to head to his office immediately. But even that doesn’t seem to stop the underlings from looking at you as you walk down a narrow corridor. The dim luminescence of the moon glares in from the windows as you walk past them; your silhouette stretches and pulls, disturbing the brief show of light before it’s swallowed up by the inky blackness the night provides so freely.

But is it really so surprising that Akira frequently calls you into his office? It’s not exactly a secret that you’re his so-called “squeeze,” so it’s to be expected that he betrays some favouritism toward you now and then, isn’t it? Little wonder why the others give you the stink eye when they think you to be distracted. You’d be a liar if you said that a sick part of you doesn’t enjoy the way the men glare at you, muttering how stuck-up you are, and how you’re nothing but Akira’s most cherished toy.

And you suppose in many ways that may be how he sees you, but you see no harm in it. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be a part of his gang; you knew what you were saying yes to when he asked you to be his woman. It’s a “no strings attached” relationship, a verbal contract that you signed on the nonexistent dotted line and sealed with an invisible handshake.

What, you silently ask yourself as you take a sharp right, could he want to see me about now?

Certainly not the usual reason you’re called into his office. He wouldn’t have sent his right-hand man to fetch you if it was for that; he’d have come get you himself for some alone time together. So you can safely surmise that it isn’t related to that. But if it isn’t what you’re usually called for, then what? What could be so important that he feels you must drag yourself away from your desk, literally, to head to his office?

There’s only one way to get to the bottom of this, you suppose. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the door to his office is already in your sights. Far too soon for your liking, if honesty still means anything nowadays. Your slow walk stalls to a full-on stop. You take in a breath and let it out in a slow, steady exhale; your shoulders rise and fall as you perform the action. You feel the jitters being flushed out of your system, silently riding a wave of forced, faux calmness as a hand is raised, fingers wrapping around the round knob and turning it with a flick of your wrist.

You push the door open and are greeted by a familiar sight. Extravagance can be seen no matter where you look. You’re sure that the whole room costs more than you make in a year, but it’s the person sitting in a chair behind the desk in the centre of the room who matters most to you. His sitting posture is the same as always: lounging in the chair like a king sitting on his throne, sipping on some high-class whisky.

“You wanted to see me, Aki?”

The frizzy-haired gangster in question looks up at being addressed by the nickname you saddled him with, one he’s long since given you the green light to use when it’s just you and him. Immediately, the corners of his lips quirk up. He swallows what’s in his mouth before he sets the glass down; the ice cubes swirl, rattling about in the interior.

“Ah, just the woman I wanted to see.”

He speaks as if you thought there’d be another one sitting on his lap when you entered. The idea is enough for you to roll your eyes as you move, crossing over the carpet covering the floor so that you’re standing in front of his desk. But you don’t linger there for long. Akira raises a hand, crooking a leather clad finger; you heed the silent order, moving around so that you’re standing right beside him.

“Right where you belong… By my side, Treasure.”

The sugary loll that coats his voice leaves his mouth in a lazily drawled purr, lips curling at the corners as they lift up enough to bare a tiny, teasing glimpse of pearl white teeth.

“What’s this about? You don’t usually send your right hand to fetch me.”

Unless…

Did you mess up your last assignment? You rack your brain, desperately fishing for anything. Any moment during your recent mission where you screwed up. Anything at all will do! Sadly, you come up empty. Really, how hard is it to charm a CEO into accepting a get-out-of-debt card in exchange for not airing his dirty laundry for the general public to see? It’s so easy, perhaps the easiest objective you’ve had to complete in what feels like forever. The poor bastard all but melted under the power of your saccharine coos, your soft touches as Akira promised him he’d be well rewarded. So long as he was willing to play by Akira’s rule book, that is.

No, no. You… You couldn’t possibly have messed that up. Did you?

“Hey, relax. You’re not in any trouble, darling.”

Akira’s voice snaps you out of your panicked stupor. You blink slowly, owlishly, fixing your gaze on him. Far too late do you realize that one of your hands are being held by him, rolling the gloved pad of his thumb over your knuckles. He says that, sure, and while you’re consoled with the fact that you aren’t in hot water with your boss and lover, you’re still curious why you’re here at all.

Your mouth pops open, a question at the ready. But a crinkle of plastic stops you. You flick a glance down, brows furrowing as his free hand ducks out of the package, a pocky stick between his index and middle finger in the way you’ve seen your co-workers, and others, pinch a cigarette between their digits.

“And before you ask,” He says, putting the pocky stick between his lips, “these aren’t cheap.”

You stare for a moment, watching how the cookie half that’s in his mouth bobs up and down as he speaks, lips curling to a smirk that you’ve become more than acquainted with.

“I wasn’t going to suggest they were,” you say, blinking once. Honestly, you’d be surprised if the pocky was the typical brands you see at a convenience store. Knowing Akira’s taste for the finer things life has to offer him, they aren’t the kind anybody can easily get their hands on. “I was going to ask why you have them.”

“Pocky Day.”

The answer is so out of left field that you can’t stop yourself from laughing. “Is that why I’m here? To indulge you in this childish game?”

“Yes.”

The snort that leaves you at the blunt answer is anything but ladylike, but you don’t care. There is one particular quality about Akira that you think is a positive one: he’s honest, brutally so. Sighing, you set yourself to the task that’s been ceremoniously dropped into your lap. You bend down as your mouth opens, puckering to a perfectly shaped o. Your lips close around the chocolate coated end of the snack, waiting for him to make the first move like he always does.

Except he doesn’t. You blink once, twice, never taking your eyes off of his. He doesn’t say anything; he simply smirks while still possessing your hand, still rolling a leather clad thumb across the bumps of your knuckles. It seems he wants you to take the initiative here.

What a pleasant change of pace; he surprised me.

Gently, as though the chocolate-coated half your mouth is tucked around is worth gold, your teeth bite down on it. There’s a soft but audible crunch as it’s chewed into, the smooth chocolate coating mixing with the crisp cookie well. The moment you bite down onto the end of your half, so does Akira. Unlike you, however, the smirk he donned earlier is now almost a little grin.

The audacity this man has! If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think him to be a god among mortal men. A shame that beneath the physique of a deity lurks a devil in disguise.

But he’s your devil… A dark voice croons in your head and though you don’t want to, that voice is right, but only to a degree.

Akira is yours for as long as he gives you permission to be his partner, for lack of a better word to describe your relationship with him.

The man in question takes a few more nibbles, a silent but obvious clue that you can stop this silly game at any time. For all that his haughty, braggart nature annoys you to no end and makes you want to tear your hair out, small gestures like the one he’s displaying to you now endears him to you; it makes you appreciate the little displays of amiability more, makes your flutter in your breast. But will you stop? Can you stop knowing that this time may be the last time you’ll get to feel the soft warmth of his lips pressing against yours? You don’t know if you can; you don’t know if you want to.

The thought is more painful than you’re willing to admit to.

A hand clad in leather cups your cheek, the gentle touch surprising you enough to jolt you from your mental funk. What remains of the chocolate-coated cookie in your mouth nearly falls out, but you snap your jaw closed at the last second, swallowing the tiny pieces you bit off earlier. Shimmering obsidian eyes leer at you all the while, betraying a secret well of feelings that he doesn’t dare show around anyone else except you, brewing the beginning of a storm in your mind and a river of fire in your heart. Suddenly, it occurs to you to take quiet notice to the fact that there’s only a few nibbles that stand between your lips and Akira’s. You know that he is all too eager to be the one to take the final plunge, all too willing to finish this game off with the final bite and claim your mouth with his, but he has had you nurture quite a wild streak since your fate intersected with his.

It is with that realization that you gather your wits, surging forward and chomping down the last bite, doing as your heart, mind and soul commands you to do, eyes open all the while. And what a delectable sight you would have missed had you decided to close your eyes. His eyes widen for but a fraction of a second, but it’s so subtle that it’s just barely noticeable even with your keen observation. Not surprisingly, there are feelings smouldering in his dark irises: surprise, amusement. They remind you of stars twinkling in the night sky, so mesmerizing when the cold glower of moonlight from the adjacent window hits them at just the right angle.

His eyes dance wickedly with silent laughter; does he derive such morbid cheer from your unpredictable moments that much?

His lips feel just as smooth and warm as you remember they do. You aren’t sure if it’s seconds or a minute before you pull away from his mouth. It’s not like it matters; time has no meaning when you’re with Akira. But his hands haven’t left their respective places: the one holding your hand still gently strokes your knuckles; the one cupping your cheek still cradles it so lovingly, almost like a mockery of affection he offers you.

More fool you for lapping it up straight from the palm of his hand, like you’re dying of thirst and he is the only one who can quench it.

But you couldn’t care less about that right now. All that matters to you is the phantom tingle that crawls over your lips, leaving a call of barely-there heat to dance over the plump flesh. Did kissing him always evoke such strong emotions and stronger reactions from you? Or does the thought, the knowledge of knowing that this may be the last night you’ll be “his” makes you want another if he offers it to you?

“Did one kiss satisfy you, Treasure? It certainly didn’t satisfy me.”

You swear your heart could burst right out of your chest and splatter down Akira’s front, and you wouldn’t bat an eye at the grotesque sight. You’re so happy, so happy that you could die right now.

Silently, you mourn the loss of his hand on your cheek as it drops, drifting back to the package. The moment the crinkle registers to your ears is the moment you smile.

“I am a greedy man after all.”

He is a man of voracious appetites, he is greed personified, and above all he is yours.

There will inevitably come a time where he’ll decide to call it quits with you, but until then, you’ll savour all the kisses he is willing to give you in the meantime.

#Persona 5 #Kurusu Akira #Reader-insert #AU #Mafia AU #CommunityofSilence ask #Order up!#COME GET IT GIRL!

14 notes · View notes

aleriawrites · 4 years

Text

Novel Prep Tag Game: songs of Alerïa

Thank you for tagging me @nistrada for the tag. This took me a long time to do actually bc tumblr app kept crashing on me. 😭

First Look

1.) Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences:

“If we burn, you burn with us.”

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins.

2.) How long do you plan for the novel to be?

3 books if I ever start writing it.

3.) What’s your novel’s aesthetic?

very fantasy with a bit of dystopia in there.

4.) What other stories have inspired your novel?

Avatar: the last airbender, a song of ice and fire, the hunger games.

5.) 3 images that get the feel of my novel:

Main Characters

6.) Who is your protagonist?

it’s multiple POV but I guess for now I’ll talk about Ayden.

7.) Who is their closest ally?

Books! Ayden is naturally a clumsy bookworm and is obsessed with nature, literature and exploration.

8.) Who is their enemy?

His father Averys.

9.) What do they want more than anything?

Ayden wants independence, to exercise his liberties and to be treated like an adult rather than a baby.

10.) Why can’t they have it?

Averys lost his wife, Aydens mom Leia during war. Averys fears he will lose Ayden as well and hence is over protective and restricting.

11.) What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Ayden believes his father hates him but Averys loves him.

12.) Draw your protagonist!

Can’t draw. but here is a close resemblance. Surprise surprise it’s a white boiii. Add a snow owl, spectacles, bag of maps and a crossbow.

13.) What is the worst thing that could happen to your protag?

According to Averys, “everything!”

Plot Points

14.) What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

This is where my plot is stuck, trying to figure it out.

15.) Do you know how it ends?

Don’t wanna ruin the element of surprise.

16.) What is the theme?

Resistance, rebellion, revolution.

17.) What is a recurring symbol?

Birds are a big symbol especially the eagle. Another symbol is the moon/stars which are associated with Avestia.

18.) Where is the story set?

In my own little head atm. But the setting is on a continent called the Main Land which is supposed to be Eurasia and a new founded territory called the New World aka America.

19.) Do you have images and scenes in mind already?

yes!

20.) What excited you about this story?

it was the prospect of writing a narrative about those being oppressed in the world via western imperialism. A lot of stories do not shine a light on the consequences of post colonialism and modern day imperialism. Its something I would love to write about in a way that resonates with victims of western agendas + regime change.

21.) What is your usual writing method?

I get a an idea in my head when I should be sleeping, then i attempt to write it down, I hate how it’s written, I cry and repeat.

Tagging : @ardawyn @anomaly00 @bebewrites @childrenoflight-darkness-nothing @captainrynna @drowsy-quill @erinbeatty @eternally-sweet @eluari @feralsong @faesongwrites @galthynus @inkspilledqueen @inky-duchess @inherentlywritten @lady-redshield-writes @lyaremia @marie-writess @nistrada @owl-writes @pen-of-roses @the-starborne-prince @urbanteeth @dusklightserenade (+ anyone else who would like to participate)

#tag games #*#does anyone know how to add the read more on tumblr app?#this app is annoying af!#oc:ayden

38 notes · View notes