#Silver Spoon Attire

[oukabarsburgblr]

drabble....aftermath of Man in the Elevator

FEATURING : DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader

profile ...

fluff, con smut, root post

[START SCENE]

"Hey HEY! Where do you think you're taking me-"

(m/n)'s feet skidded against the carpeted floor, however Daisuke's grip on his wrist was tight, it didn't hurt but he managed to drag the (h/c) across his department's wing, gaining many confused looks from his coworkers.

"On a date! Well- lunch date. I was thinking fugu or wagyu beef!" Daisuke's mouth was watering as he continued to pull the struggling man behind him who was begging his coworkers to help him. His friends looked away, not wanting to intrude on (m/n) and his boyfriend- WHO TF SAID THAT??

Daisuke had bodyguards following him, tall buff men wearing suits and earpieces whispering to each other as they formed a parameter around the pair. (m/n) doesn't know how to feel that he fucked the CEO's son. No wonder Daisuke asked whether he knew him or not and his expensive attire he had adorned in the elevator.

Speaking of elevators, (m/n) violently pulled back, shocking Daisuke when they had approached the floor's lift. It was a different lift but the (h/c) was afraid nonetheless.

"I'm not going in there with you."

He hadn't stepped in a lift ever since two days ago, taking the stairs and claiming it was to burn his calories when his acquiantances asked.

The ravenette was silent, staring at the annoyed (h/c) before smiling. "Okay." "...Thanks." At least Daisuke acknowledged that what happened between them was somewhat traumatic. Deplorable and enjoyable but (m/n) wouldn't want to go through that with anyone else except if it's Daisuke- wait what?

"Is it fine if I carry you then?" (m/n) quirked an eyebrow at the ravenette. "Carry me where?" "Up the stairs. The helipad is closer than the garage from this floor. You must be sore after our whole workout right?" "Helipad???" Daisuke nodded as he crouched to slip his beefy arms under (m/n)'s knees and back who yelped and immediately clutched onto the ravenette's luxurious suit. (m/n) wasn't sure whether to address the workout comment.

"Our building has a helipad?" "Of course silly! How would I travel from my home to work every day?" (m/n) wanted to punch this privileged, first class, silver spoon in his mouth bitch. No wonder (m/n) never saw him near the lobby. He guessed either Daisuke commuted by a fancy car or a fucking helicopter.

One of his bodyguard opened the doors to the staircase, letting Daisuke pass through with (m/n) in his arms who was punching his chest, demanding to be released. "If you're worried about being heavy, then don't be! It's great for my cardio."

That was either backhanded as fuck or Daisuke was just really an idiot. They made their way up the stairs, Daisuke breaking a sweat or two while (m/n) was still squirming and screaming in his face. He was surprised Daisuke was still smiling at him.

True to his words, once they've reached the rooftop, a white helicopter was there, already running its engine and Daisuke told (m/n) to cover his ears as he continued to carry (m/n) up onto the helipad and into the helicopter itself. Once (m/n) was tucked in his seat, the pilot took off, heading god knows where as (m/n) began to choke the ravenette.

"Where are we going?!!" "To- ackk! My house- ghhackkk!" (m/n) gritted his teeth. "Are you trying to kidnap me??" "What? Why would I?" The (h/c) began to grapple away from the ravenette, pressing himself up against the window as his shoes smudged the leather seat. Daisuke tried to coax him to sit down properly.

"You dragged me here. By force." Daisuke pouted. "You looked like you wanted to run away from me as soon as you saw me. Besides- YOU LEFT ME IN THE ELEVATOR ALONE!!"

(m/n) choked on his saliva and looked away. Fuck he had a point. Daisuke was scrunching his noise as he pointed at the (h/c)'s face with his index finger. The pilot felt like two cats were fighting in the back.

"W-Well I tried waking you up. I swear! But you slept like a goddamn rock-" "I wonder why." Daisuke deadpanned as he stared at the (h/c) with his lips pressing into a thin line, hinting at the fact that even when Daisuke was tired, (m/n) wanted one last round.

Immediately, (m/n) felt flushed and tried hiding his face, Daisuke pawing at him to face him but fuck did he feel so embarassed around him. "Look at me. I want to see what kind of face you're making." The ravenette laughed as he tried pulling at the (h/c)'s arms, the latter kicking him in protest.

Soon, they arrived at their destination. (e/c) eyes bulging at the sight of the penthouse that looked even more extravagant than their already affluent company building.

"Welcome to my home. Well its my dads technically. I still live with him y'know." Daisuke held (m/n)'s hand as the latter descended from the helicopter steps. Is this what they call princess treatment? He wondered as Daisuke began to give out orders to his valets and shooed away his bodyguards.

"...I'm still in my work hours by the way..." (m/n) hoped he wouldn't get scolded by his HOD, Daisuke only tilted his head. "They'll understand. My dad is the boss to your boss yeah?" He suddenly went into a ramble, not remembering who (m/n)'s supervisor is but assuring the (h/c) that they'll definitely let it slide.

Rich people live such nice lives. (m/n) sighed as he let Daisuke pull him through the penthouse, in awe of the decorations and furniture. Looks like Daisuke was a fan of retro, Americanized. He definitely grew up with mainstream media. His eyes gazing over hung record disk on painted walls before his view was covered in green.

"Woah." (m/n) whistled at the magnificent view of his surroundings. It was a greenhouse, walls made out of glass and white pillars, vines hanging from the beige ceilings and flowers blooming from their patches of dirt nestled neatly in their respective areas.

"This is my favourite spot to eat. Since this is your first time here, I figure I'd take you somewhere nice." Daisuke rubbed his face, suddenly abashed.

Okay that's kinda cute. (m/n) hummed. "It is nice here. Wonderful even." Could never afford this place. He deemed and made a mental note, not noticing steam coming out of Daisuke's ears.

"Glad you like it." "Your favourite place to eat is your own home?" Daisuke pursed his lips, thinking of an answer. "My mouth is accustomed to my chef's food. If anything, I'd love to eat here everyday but my dad keeps saying I should go outside and explore." Again, he went into a ramble, saying that his dad won't even let him step out of the penthouse without a five-member escort.

The (h/c) rolled his eyes. How self-centered is this guy? He knocked on the wooden table they were seated at to catch Daisuke's attention. "Sorry haha. It's just really nice to talk to you." "It's not exactly talking if your mouth keeps doing all the work." "Well your mouth can do some other work-"

Daisuke howled in pain, a swift kick to his knees courtesy of (m/n) who was glaring heavily at him. "Behave." The (h/c) pressed. "...yes, sir." "Good." He looked around the greenhouse, taking note of the beautiful flora and faunas.

Feeling hunger stemming from his stomach, he turned to Daisuke who was rubbing his knee. "I'm hungry." The ravenette was eager to please his date, calling in a butler, giving him menus and showing him pictures of what his private chef could cook for him.

"I recommend the smoked salmon, the earthy taste is insane." Daisuke felt his mouth water, remembering the fish that melted in his mouth, smoky charcoal seeping in on his tastebuds. (m/n) was unimpressed. "How much can I order?" "As much as you like! You're my date so go crazy." The ravenette winked at him.

(m/n) squinted his eyes, before letting out a pleasant smile, letting Daisuke call him his 'date' and immediately ordering a five-course meal. The ravenette was impressed by his date's appetite, mirroring his order.

The meal went well, them talking to each other, albeit (m/n) cursing at him every time Daisuke teased the former, and officially introducing each other. The (h/c) found out Daisuke didn't even officially work there. He was just there to visit his dad or get some 'exposure' in a work environment.

They did talk about the whole elevator thing, Daisuke mentioned how he tried to investigate who was behind the intercom and the aphrosodiac but all lead to none. (m/n) groaned, taking note of how the lift he usually used was scheduled under maintenance and the one in the incident was usually used by VIPs.

"I just...don't want to go through that again." Daisuje shoved a piece of beef in his mouth before holding the (h/c)'s hand, expressing his empathy. "I hope you're okay after all that." "I am. It was just confusing?" The ravenette nodded.

"Same. I thought I was crazy, y'know? Cuz' I woke up all alone. Drenched in weird stuff on the floor." (m/n) glowered. "I said I was sorry..." "No you didn't. And what'd you say?" Daisuke teased, leaning in closer and the (h/c) pulled away, embarrassed.

"I said I'm sorry." He hissed. The ravenette laughed as he pulled away to recline in his chair, stretching his muscles. "You're cute." "I know." "But you're really cute." (m/n) slapped his hand on Daisuke's mouth.

"Just shut up and keep eating."

A scream left his mouth as Daisuke licked across his palm. A butler had to intervene when he tried to drive a butter knife into Daisuke's face who only cackled at the attempted murder. It continued like that for the afternoon, Daisuke chatting and ruffling up (m/n)'s feathers, the latter eating as much as he could while responding as little as possible to the ravenette.

The setting was nice, evening had dawned, (m/n) forgetting about his work, Daisuke trying to romance the (h/c) and a bottle of expensive wine was served to them. No cheap alcohol here, only the best for Daisuke Yuichi and his new 'lover'.

(m/n) downed the wine, a fruity taste lingering in his mouth. Maybe Daisuke likes sweet things. He kept that in mind as his eyes lingered on the flushed ravenette who was swirling his own glass, still being the chatterbox he is.

The alcohol in the wine was mild but it did its job, intoxicating the two as Daisuke drunkenly brushed his hand over (m/n)'s thigh, the tip of his ears red and his nape burning hot. Him switching places to sit beside the (h/c). His body slowly caging him in, his face leaning closer.

(m/n) knew what he wanted. He had his own desires as well.

Daisuke brought the (h/c) deeper into his penthouse, touching him all over, (m/n) leaning more into his hold.

(e/c) eyes fluttered shut, Daisuke pushing him down on his desk in his supposed office, the lights dark and curtains closed. It was contrast to their first which was a small space with glaring white lights.

"Haa hah hangh slow down Daisuke- mmff!"

(m/n) laid down on the mahogany desk, papers astrewn on the floor while Daisuke went to town on his neck while unbuttoning his work attire. "Sorry, it's so hard around you. So handsome." He kissed his cheek. "So cute."

The (h/c) panted while holding Daisuke's shoulders. "Don't call me cute." "What should I call you?" The ravenette questioned endearingly while pecking his neck.

"Hot, sexy, suave, drop-dead gorgeous."

Daisuke laughed as he swiped his hair back, (m/n)'s legs were loosely wrapped around Daisuke's, caressing them with his shoes. "Alright then. My hot-," A kiss on (m/n)'s hand. "so fucking sexy-," He purred while brushing his lips down the (h/c)'s arm.

"not really suave-," A slap to Daisuke's chest, the ravenette teasing the fuming (h/c). He chuckled as he leaned in, their forehead touching, black optics covering (e/c).

"my drop-dead gorgeous lover." He kissed the edge of (m/n)'s lips, the (h/c) sighing as his hands gripped Daisuke's bosom. "Lover is quite fast, don't you think?" "My mind is quite a few chapters ahead. Will you be willing to speed up your pace?" "Only if you wait."

Daisuke paused, not expecting the (h/c) to give a serious answer, a genuine smile stretched on his lips. "...Of course." He was willing to do as much for this man in his arms. Something in his heart tells him that he would regret to not give chase.

(m/n) stared at the man above him, sighing quietly as his hand cupped Daisuke's face. "You're lucky you're rich." The ravenette leaned into his palm. "You're welcome to use all my inheritance." (m/n) laughed for the first time.

"Don't say that. I might actually suck you dry. You're not so bad, Yuichi."

Something jumped in the ravenette's pants, (m/n)'s crotch lightly feeling it. "Sorry, I got really hard hearing you say my name." (m/n) rolled his eyes. "I should expect that from someone like you, huh?" "Yup!"

Daisuke cheered as he kissed the (h/c), the latter wrapping his arms around his neck, pressing his lips back. The ravenette's tongue soon licked his lips, begging for entrance as (m/n) opened his mouth.

They were both moaning and sucking on each other's tongue, Daisuke's hips bucking and humping (m/n)'s bottom, the latter gasping into the sloppy tongue-tying session letting Daisuke thrust his wet muscly organ down his throat.

Choking on his saliva, (m/n) squirmed, patting Daisuke's chest, who immediately pulled away. "D-Daisuke-" "Please, please, I wanna do it so badly." Daisuke mewled, his face entirely flushed. "You can just sleep here after this, not worry about work tomorrow but please, pretty please, let me have you."

The (h/c)'s bottom jerked, feeling Daisuke grind himself on him. He sloppily licked (m/n)'s bosom, his eyes all teary, begging the (h/c) to sleep with him.

(m/n) grinned, he was also intoxicated and suddenly liking Daisuke's behaviour. He pulled Daisuke's hair up, swiping his tongue onto the latter's teeth, Daisuke moaning loudly into the kiss.

Hurriedly, he shuffled his clothes off of him, pulling (m/n)'s own as well. Fingers pumping in and out of the (h/c) who threw his head against the table, Daisuke used his precum as lube and pull his fingers out once he wringed an orgasm out of his new 'lover'.

(m/n) didn't have time to recover, Daisuke immediately pushing his cock in and the (h/c) yelped in pain, scratching the latter's pale back. Both of them liked the pain, Daisuke jamming himself into (m/n) rapidly, the (h/c) digging his nails in and screaming every time the ravenette's huge cock dragged against his tender walls.

The ravenette's eyes rolled behind his head, his mouth open as he came so early into the (h/c), his hips twitching as he stuffed his cum inside (m/n)'s hole. Arching his back, (m/n) mewled feeling his ass filled with something so wet so fast.

"Sorry..." Daisuke was heaving, his eyes droopy, apologising for cumming so early. "You idiot..." (m/n) pulled Daisuke's hair, reeling him into a kiss as he rubbed his ass onto the ravenette's penis.

They went wild, fucking like bunnies all over Daisuke's office. Almost every furniture was used and tainted with the smell of sex. Daisuke was extra hyper with the help of the wine and him being so happy that (m/n) was so willing to have sex with him. (m/n) was taking advantage of Daisuke's fondness and huge cock, letting him split him open in so many ways, bent over the couches, pushing him up against the wall and even pressed him facing the windows, his own cock rubbing against the glass, smearing it with his cum.

Daisuke came so much that every time he thrusted inside, semen leaked out with a squelching effect, turning on the (h/c) more. Eventually after the tenth round, Daisuke dropped himself on the luxurious sofa, the one (m/n) was folded into a mating press two rounds prior. In his arms was (m/n), breathing heavily, his body sticky and dripping cum.

The ravenette's beefy arms were holding (m/n) more securely, perhaps he didn't want the (h/c) to disappear like last time. "...Let's sleep like this. When I wake up, I'll carry you to my bedroom." Daisuke mumbled, his eyes closed, so tired having his dick pumped dry.

(m/n) hummed, adjusting himself on top of Daisuke, . "Mkay." He felt a hand rubbing his hair which eventually turned into small massages on his scalp. How sweet was this man?

"...Don't just leave...like last time...please..." It was barely a whisper, (m/n) couldn't read Daisuke's expression, his eyes shut tight. "...I won't."

He could feel the man underneath him flinch, not expecting the other to hear him but the latter's body relaxed, loosing his tension and worry.

Daisuke passed out before (m/n), his light breathing was comforting and the (h/c) placed his face in the crook of Daisuke's neck, sleeping soundly as well. He had a good meal, oh and the food tasted great too.

True to Daisuke's words, (m/n) woke up in an ornate bedroom, the color scheme mainly consists of royal blue and dark greyish except for its furniture. The ravenette had woken up way before him, spooning the (h/c) being so giddy that (m/n) was still with him the next morning.

Instead of turning up for work, (m/n) went shopping, Daisuke insisting he wanted to treat him with clothings and jewelries and he did, getting pampered by the rich man all day and he finally returned home with an abundant amount of shopping bags. He also did not let Daisuke into his apartment, knowing that he wanted to sleep with and in his room. That horny bitch ISTG-.

Although Daisuke assured him that he could retire at an early age, (m/n) still continued his normal work life, although his manager and supervisor were extra respectful to him and his coworkers had so many questions on how did he manage to bag the CEO's son. Said CEO was wary on how did his precious son managed to fall for someone so quick but after meeting the (h/c), he realised his son was a tender-hearted idiot and wished the best for the pair.

Maybe (m/n) was thankful for the whole elevator shenanigan, he managed to end up with a lovestruck rich boy after all. His life didn't change much except the fact that a certain priviledged puppy would steal him during lunch hours and promptly fuck him in the long nights.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

How long/short a drabble should be? Haha cuz i think i went way overboard. Daisuke would feature in more aus and their official(?) storyline including spinoffs (what ifs) with another oc i will introduce next week maybe.

Please leave a comment! Although there will be no part 3 for this au haha. Keep an eye out for my next AU [Reversing the Tropes]!

I had smoked salmon w my bf the other day and IT WAS SO GOOD WHAT ANSBAKHAUAH. I think its funny me writing all these smuts while being a virgin LMAOOOO

more of daisuke yuichi! ☾

[yueebby]

littol sneak peek at syth 2 bc i feel bad for taking so long :3

You haunt his dreams, he’s sure. Gojo never believed in superstitions or the supernatural— despite what all those old geezers preached. That was until you started appearing everytime he closed his eyes.

The familiar scene of you gets cloudier every time it appears in his dreams, but he knows it is still you. It’s nearly comical how even his subconscious knew of your everlasting beauty. Everytime, the same sequence replays: a grand celebration he had hosted in the palace in honor of a prosperous year of his reign. The two of you were overlooking the guests, seated at the head of the room.

You’re wearing court attire that was altered to fit solely you (it hugged your body in such ways that made Gojo’s head spin), fabrics and dyes all originating from foreign lands. In your hair sits beautiful hair ornaments, swinging with every movement you make.

However, Gojo knows it is not the materialistic items that make you beautiful, no, he knows that it was simply you.

“Has anyone told you how unnerving your eyes are?” You quietly comment, eyes still trained on the party in front of you. Satoru cracks a slight smile, not ashamed in the slightest that he was caught ogling you.

“I thought you said you loved them?” He blinks at you, attempting to lean closer to show off his blue orbs. “You’re starting to hurt my feelings, beloved.”

You purse your lips, subtly leaning away before he can initiate improper conduct. He does not take your action well, snaking an arm around you to firmly cage you in his hold. Normally, you would welcome his advances but you’d rather not be publically humiliated in front of the entire Imperial Court and all of the influential clanheads of Japan.

“Please have mercy on me, Your Grace,” You whisper, eyes flitting across the room, making sure there were no eyes on you. Luckily, everyone was too absorbed with the luxurious goods Gojo had imported for the occasion. It was the anniversary of his coronation, after all.

He makes a noise of disapproval, “Can’t. Must let these people know that you’re mine.” Gojo closes the gap between you and sniffs your neck, softly moaning at your scent. He knows that if the geezers looked up from their silver spoons they would have a heart attack at his public display of affection. Not that he cares, considering they had no power over him. His unorthodox ways may make them livid, but Gojo knows they won’t do anything. He was going to pave the way for the Golden Age of Japan— with you by his side.

[siribaes]

FEELIN’ IT

KOFI SIRIBOE X blackfem!reader

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Drank In My Cup by Kirko Bangz, Drunk in Love by Beyoncé, Refill by Elle Varner

WARNING: 18+, SMUT, Henny D*ck from Kofi lol, praise kink, semi-rough s*x, unprotected pinv (wrap it up kids)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: beware of typos & mistakes lol, and this one is for my petite girlies (*cough* self-insert) / GIF CREDIT: @tishrivers

Low rumbles of movement awoke Y/N from her sleep. Y/N stirred for a moment as the movements continued, shifting slight in her spot. She cracked one eye room, immediately welcomed by the pitch blackness of the room except the silver of neon light from a side table clock.

2:16 AM.

He’s home.

Y/N yawned as she sat up from her bed. Stretching her arms and legs she flipped the blanket off her, getting up from the bed. Y/N softly padded out of the bedroom and downstairs to the source of the noise.

She could see a shadow stretch from the kitchen and into the hallway. Smiling slightly to herself, Y/N tip toed her way to the kitchen. Her smile grew wider as she saw the culprit behind the noise.

He stood with the fridge partially open, the light illuminating his beautiful angular features. His brows were furrowed, as his coca-cola brown, yet borderline blood shot red eyes scanned the shelves of the refrigerator. Y/N chuckled softly at his expression while he had spoon held in his mouth. Y/N’s eyes traveled to the island where a large bowl filled with ice cream sat. Immediately she knew what he was searching for.

“Kofi,” Y/N spoke aloud. Immediately Kofi turned to her, taking the spoon out of his mouth. A slow syrupy smile grew from his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Bottom left drawer.”

It took a second for the information to sink in, for Kofi in his buzzed haze. It did though, Kofi’s eyes lit up, his smile grew even wider, as he turned back to the fridge. He bent down opening the drawer and pulling out a brown bottle of chocolate sauce.

“You the G.O.A.T., baby,” he murmured as he closed the fridge.

Y/N walked to the island, watching Kofi pour a generous amount of chocolate sauce onto his ice cream. He took a huge spoonful and shoved into his mouth. A groan erupted from him, a dangerous one that should’ve not sent tingles through Y/N body, but did anyway. He had that effect on her always.

“It’s good?” Y/N asked. She lifted herself up and sat on the island counter next to Kofi. She caught huge whiff of the Hennessey he must've been sipping on from earlier on.

“I fucks with this Vegan ice cream heavy,” Kofi proclaimed, pointing his spoon at the bowl.

He took another spoonful as his gaze dipped towards Y/N’s bare legs, it fully registering her sleep attire, a huge Destiny’s Child band t-shirt and short shorts. His eyes traveled back upwards to Y/N’s gaze, a bit more heated than previously.

“You taste better tho,”

“Kofi, don’t start,” Y/N chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. He jokingly cowered and continued to devour his dessert. “How was the club? Y’all have fun?”

He nodded slowly, setting the spoon to the side, and scratched at his beard.

“Yeah. Good vibes. Good music too...Tre was in better spirits since the split," Kofi mused, his eyes slightly danced as he absentmindedly scratched at his beard. He turned towards Y/N peering down at her. Large, calloused hands found themselves at the soft flesh of her legs, the pads of his thumbs rubbed on the tops of her thighs. A warmth bloomed underneath Y/N's skin, while butterflies flew around in her stomach, and dampness pooled in her panties. "You should've been there with me."

A soft moan threatened to escape Y/N's lips, she choked it back before she spoke.

"M-Me? Be responsible for interrupting boys' night, I dunno about that, baby."

Kofi tipped his head to the side, a sly grin bloomed across his lips. A flicker of mischief appeared in his eyes. He stopped rubbing at Y/N's thighs and instead gave them gentle squeeze. Y/N whimpered slightly, causing Kofi's grin to grow even more.

"Maybe it was a good thing, I was bricked up thinkin' about you, anyway," Y/N's eyes slowly trail down, seeing the large print behind his black jeans. Kofi palmed himself and groaned. "You gon' help me, pretty girl."

Y/N nodded quickly, immediately bringing Kofi down to her, crashing her lips against his. Initially, a kiss that was heated and messy, turned slow, and passionate. Kofi's tongue swirled around in her mouth, she tastes the sweetness of the vanilla ice cream and chocolate, with the slight bitterness from the Hennessey. He kissed her so softly and sweetly, that it put Y/N a daze. It was all mere distraction, as Kofi slid his right hand down her shorts curling two fingers inside of Y/N.

"Kofi," Y/N whimpered as Kofi's fingers began to slowly pump in and out of her. "Fuck, baby!"

Kofi peppered kisses on the side of her face, nibbling on the outer shell of her ear.

"I feel you tightin' up, let me see ya pretty ass cum, baby," Kofi drawled, his LA-New Orleans accent slipping through, spurred Y/N even more.

The pleasure began to pulse through her as she felt herself clenching around Kofi's thick fingers.

"I'm-I'm gonna cum baby, fuck!" Y/N mewled.

"Let go, baby. I gotchu," Kofi rasps.

Her orgasm pooled out of her, flooding Kofi's fingers. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before he pulled his fingers out of her. Y/N slightly pouted at the lost of Kofi's touch. He chuckled softly before he sucked on his two fingers, swirling his pink tongue around them.

"Turn around for me," Y/N happily obliged, she quickly discarded her shorts and panties, flinging them to the side. She turned and faced the counter. Y/N stood on her tippy toes, excitement rushed through her as she heard the sounds of Kofi undoing his pants. Y/N almost crumbled as Kofi's rubbed the head of his dick between her soft, wet folds.

"Don't play, Kofi. I need you," Y/N whined, attempting to draw him further inside of her.

Kofi's hand came crashing down on Y/N's ass, it echoed throughout the kitchen. She yelped, slapping her own hands against the marble counter.

"Relax, Y/N" Kofi groaned has he continued to rub himself in her folds. "So fuckin' hard-headed, gimme a minute baby,"

"Sorry, "Y/N moaned quietly.

After a few more seconds of teasing, Y/N's prayers were answered as Kofi finally plunged into her warmth, completely bottoming out before he began to drill into her.

“You feel too good baby," He's deep inside now, with his large hands gripping at Y/N's waist, Kofi continues to grind his dick into her, with rough, sloppy strokes. "Fuck you so tight, all this shit for me?"

Y/N could feel herself gushing at just the tone of his voice. A sweetness managed to cut through all of the hoarseness and lust. It always drove her crazy when he did shit like that. The familiar thrumming of her orgasm, hurdled towards the surface, she squeezed and tightened around him. Kofi moaned at Y/N gripping him.

"You close?" Kofi asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Yes baby, I'm gonna," Y/N's orgasm shot through her before she could finish. She whined and moaned as Kofi continued to fuck her through it.

"You still with me pretty girl?" Kofi rasped in her ear.

“Mhmmm, Kofi, shit!” Y/N babbled, her mind only zeroed in the pleasure between her legs. It was too much trying to keep with Kofi too.

Kofi grabbed a fistful Y/N’s coils bringing her upwards, not all the way, but far enough that she couldn’t use the counter to support herself.

“I said, you still with me pretty girl, hm?”

Y/N nodded. A sharp slap on her ass caused her to whine, a small punishment for not responding. Whether he liked to admit or not, Kofi was a words kinda guy. He loved to hear how he made you feel, even if it was garble of incoherent nonsense, he needed to know that you were there with him, present for it all. Still, the words choked on her tongue. Another slap, harder than the last, had Y/N squirming underneath Kofi. Another slap was soon to follow, but Y/N responded before he could.

“Yessss, baby I’m with you! Fuck meeee!"

"Fuck, I'm about to nut. You gon' take this shit like a good girl, huh?"

"I will baby, fuck, give it to me please!"

Kofi went into overdrive, fucking Y/N wildly. She felt him swell inside of her. His bulbous hammered at her spot, sending her into throws of pleasure, so much so she felt tears prickle in her eyes.

"You so pretty takin' me, fuck I'm cumin'," Kofi groaned as he spilled inside of Y/N. They both shook and moaned together, as Kofi slowly fucked his cum inside of her. He slowly slipped out of her, his breath on Y/N's sweat-slicked skin. Kofi tapped his finger Y/N's waist, signaling her to face him. She turned around only to be greeted by his glistening, cum-dripped, shaft. It was still hard.

"I wanna see that pretty ass face when I cum inside you," He proclaimed, slipping right back inside Y/N, ready for round 2.

[pinchofhoney]

perfectly flawed

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

word count: 2.7k

warning: hurt without comfort, it might be suggestive but there's nothing inappropriate about it (friends with benefits but without any details)

summary: Finding love as a princess comes with its challenges, but becoming a mistress was never part of the plan.

a/n: two things; one, over these few months i forgot what it's like to write something that isn't an academic paper. two, in the process of writing it i forgot that i was supposed to write it based on a song. i suppose i'm already a different person than i was just the week ago when i asked you for your opinion, but regardless, feel welcome to read this,, thing<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

London, 18th April 1814

Dearest Readers,

The Season has barely begun, yet the glittering ballrooms of London are already abuzz with whispers and speculation. The cause of this fervour? None other than the captivating niece of Her Majesty. The fairy-like young lady, whose arrival in London coincided with the Season’s beginning, has ignited a flurry of theories.

Is she a princess, a countess, or perhaps a secret agent on a mission? The whispers echo through the salons, each speculation more imaginative than the last. Her regal bearing and the way she holds her fan hint at noble lineage, but her eyes hold secrets that defy easy classification. Could she be a pawn in a political game, or does her purpose lie closer to matters of the heart? Suitors line up, eager to claim her hand, but our debutante remains an unknown figure, casting doubt upon the intentions behind her smile.

Gentlemen of distinction have flocked to her side, vying for her attention. Lord Pembroke, the dashing heir to a vast estate, has been seen trailing her like a devoted puppy. The Duke of Ashford, brooding and aloof, has deigned to engage her in conversation. And then there is Captain Sinclair, whose sea-green eyes promise both danger and adventure.

At Lady Featherington's soirée, our young lady engaged in spirited conversation with none other than Miss Eloise Bridgerton. Their conversation delved into matters of politics—a most unconventional choice. Is our French princess a revolutionary sympathizer, or does she simply relish the thrill of intellectual sparring?

Rest assured, dear readers, that Lady Whistledown shall be your faithful guide through the twists and turns of this unfolding narrative. Prepare your fans and polish your silver spoons, for the London Season has just begun, and in the shadow of the Queen's niece, our world is poised to be turned upside down. Society must brace itself for a whirlwind of speculation, as we stand on the brink of a most intriguing chapter.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

‎

At the very core of the French Empire, you were raised as the epitome of grace and subtlety. With royal blood coursing through your veins, you were groomed to be the perfect lady, the jewel of the imperial court. Every step you took, every word you said, was a careful composition, painting the portrait of an eminent lineage.

From a young age, you were taught the art of etiquette, your days filled with lessons on poise, embroidery, and the subtle language of the fan. Your attire, always impeccable, was the evidence of your status and breeding. The world perceived you as the embodiment of perfection, a delicate blossom requiring protection from the harsh realities beyond the palace walls.

Yet, behind the facade of the devoted princess, a secreted truth blossomed. Beneath the tangled layers of silk and lace, your spirit, unyielding and untamed, stood in defiance of the expectations of courtly life. The allure of royal grandeur held little sway over you, and the burden of societal obligations felt like a daily donning of a suffocating corset.

The shimmering balls and elaborate rituals became stifling, making your heart to ache for those fleeting moments of genuine connection, uncontrolled laughter, and a subtle taste of the forbidden. Although French suitors eagerly fought for your attention and the allure of your family's wealth, your soul yearned for a partner who would daringly challenge the scripted norms, infusing romance with a breath of spontaneous authenticity.

And thus, to address your reluctance to accept the prearranged path, your mother came up with a plan. Sending you to the splendour of London under the watchful eye of the Queen, your beloved aunt, she hoped this change of scenery would guide you towards a dutiful marriage, in line with the expectations befitting your royal lineage. What slipped out of her seemingly perfect idea, however, was the playful nature of fate, particularly when guided by those who avoid predictability. So, your journey to the bustling heart of British metropolis grew with an outcome greatly different from your mother's expectations.

Your aunt, holding the most esteemed position in the United Kingdom, was admired for her wisdom and understanding. But the hours of lessons imparted to you from an early age, combined with your ability to conceal your rebellious nature from the public eye, had transformed you into a pretty great actress. And your performance, crafted over the years, was so convincing that even someone as sharp as the Queen herself failed to see through the carefully constructed act.

But perhaps, this time, you've got too close to the edge, because in the blink of an eye, you found yourself entangled in a situation that, if exposed, would not only scandalize all of England but also cast a shadow over France, where your family hopefully awaited news of your impending marriage.

And how did it all start?

The beginning of your tale remains in the memories of that fateful debutante ball, where a single innocent look changed the course of your luck. It was a brief moment, a shared exchange of glimpse between you and Benedict Bridgerton, that seemed to stretch time itself. In the glimmer of that ballroom, his bright eyes locked onto yours from across the room, and the world around you seemed to slow, as if giving space for something beyond a mere glance.

You had no idea what captivated you about the man who didn't really stand out among the other attendees, but most likely it was this quiet strength of his gaze. The gaze without the typical fascination you'd grown used to as a princess of the French Empire or the usual envy that flickered in the eyes of those desperate to secure a partner who determined their life's worth. Benedict's gaze was just different. It held no trace of the thought that you were merely a silly princess with a title. It carried the feeling that you were a masterpiece, a creation worthy of admiration. And it stirred a yearning within you, an insatiable thirst for freedom and authenticity that your heart had craved for so long.

A brief exchange of words with Benedict at the ball opened your eyes, making you believe that not every man who sought your company was doing so only for your family's wealth. As you danced together, his touch ignited a spark, a fleeting moment of intimacy that lingered long after the music faded into the night, and each stolen glance exchanged across the crowded ballroom carried the weight of unspoken desires. It felt as though the connection that binds soulmates was about to disappear when your paths crossed, signalling that you had, finally, found one another.

And so, it began. A secret affair that grew under the cloak of darkness, far from the prying eyes of nosy socialites waiting to catch a glimpse of scandal. In the hidden corners of London, where shadows whispered secrets and the night sky painted a canvas of stars, you found comfort in the arms of Benedict, a man not necessarily burdened by the weight of societal expectations, yet bound by his own hesitation to commit to anything beyond the present moment.

As the inappropriate meetings became routine, you assumed the role of a mistress, a position you never imagined yourself in, and the only rule you committed to follow during your secret dates was the lack of romantic feelings. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of emotional distance, your heart had a way of defying logic. With each stolen moment spent in Benedict's company, you found yourself drawn deeper into the labyrinth of emotions, a labyrinth fraught with longing and desire. What started as a simple agreement, devoid of romantic sentiments, soon evolved into something far more sincere.

And it genuinely scared you.

You walked nervously around the place of your every rendezvous with Benedict, your fingers nervously picking the cuticles near your nail—a gesture unsuitable for the lady you were expected to be. But in the fuss of events that have happened in London so far, such a thing seemed a minor violation. Not only did the task of slipping unnoticed from the royal palace grew increasingly difficult, but the relentless fluttering in your heart at the mere thought of Bridgerton haunted your sleepless nights.

Throughout your life, you had yearned for a love different from the one you had observed in French society. And now, when the opportunity to live your fairy tale presented itself, reality proved to be just an unrequited feeling. While you were happy to see Benedict and yearned for his presence, it seemed he may only crave your body, not the depths of your soul.

You wanted today's meeting to be the last one, a meeting where nothing would happen. Or so you convinced yourself. The purpose was clear: to say goodbye to Benedict and to draw the curtain on a relationship built on fleeting glances and secret meetings. And even though probably the best choice would have been to just stop showing up on these encounters and withdrawing from public spaces where you might cross paths, you didn't want to just pretend that nothing had ever happened between you two. The social season was still around you, and avoiding the consequences of your actions would only complicate everything. Maybe not for Benedict, but for you, for sure.

And then, the silence broken every second by your anxious heartbeat was completely shattered by the sound of footsteps. Turning, you were met with the sight of Benedict Bridgerton approaching with firm strides, and his presence seemed to overshadow your plans to say goodbye when, for a moment, the world seemed to pause as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and his touch sent pleasant shivers down your spine. The warmth of his embrace, coupled with the subtle brush of his breath against your skin, stirred conflicting emotions within you. Your heart quickened its pace, betraying the reason you came for this final meeting.

“I've been thinking about you all day,” Benedict whispered, and his breath caressed your delicate skin. But as much as the desire for intimacy flickered within, you held steadfast to the resolution you had set for this meeting.

With a gentle pull, you extricated yourself from his embrace, creating a safe distance between the two of you. The tingling sensation stayed on your skin, as a remaining echo of his touch that resonated through every fibre of your being. “We need to talk,” you said, your voice steadier than your racing heart. Benedict's eyes, once filled with a yearning, now searched yours for an answer to an as yet unspoken question.

“Talk?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of playful intrigue as he arched one of his eyebrows with his signature smile dancing upon his lips. “About what?” he pressed, and with an air of casual confidence, he crossed his arms over his chest as he ambled a few steps to the side. “You're not going to tell me you've fallen in love, are you, princess?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from within, escaping between your lips before you could hold it back. In an attempt to mirror Benedict's movements, you crossed your arms over your chest, your head shaking with feigned amusement. “Fall in love?” you repeated his words, adopting a tone of playful dismissal. “Don't be ridiculous, of course not,” you declared, adding a scoff at the end, as if to fortify the illusion of light-hearted banter. Hoping to shield your true feelings, now concealed beneath a facade of amusement, you met Benedict's gaze with a look of mock disbelief.

“We should end this relationship,” the words spilled from your lips, hoping your voice wouldn't betray how fast your heart was beating at that moment. “I did not come to London to become just another woman in the arms of the Viscount's son. If my mother were to find out, she'd blame herself for raising me poorly, and that's not the truth,” you began to rationalize, your words flowing as an attempt to justify the decision you had set before both of you. “I have obligations to fulfil, a path to follow, and I won't achieve that by sleeping with you.”

Benedict watched you in silence, not knowing if you were serious. His gaze bore into you, seeking answers within the depths of your eyes.

“Now you're the one being ridiculous,” he retorted, his tone carrying a gentle scolding. Leaning against a nearby counter, he looked at you with a combination of disbelief. “Since when have you cared so deeply about living up to your mother's expectations?”

“I've come to understand that my mother wants what she believes is best for me. As a princess of the French Empire, there are certain expectations I must meet, whether I appreciate them or not,” you said, closing the physical distance between yourself and Benedict. Self-control was what kept your hands from reaching out as you stopped just in front of him. “Think about what would happen if our secret were to be exposed. It would be the end for both of us, and the scandal would echo across the entire continent. The Queen herself would likely seek our demise.” You emphasized your words by pointing a finger at yourself. “I cannot ruin the honour of the entire royal family for a fleeting moment of pleasure.”

Benedict met your gaze with a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words, yet beneath the veneer of understanding, a flicker of defiance danced in his eyes. “So, what are you saying? You're suddenly prepared to sacrifice your entire life for the expectations of your family that would see you married and bearing children with some man who would likely make you miserable?” he asked, a trace of frustration evident in his voice.

A moment of silence ensued as you fixed your gaze on Benedict. Finally, a disbelieving scoff escaped your lips, and you shook your head. Taking a few steps away, you placed your hands on your hips, a gesture mirroring the internal conflict within you. “Perhaps you haven't noticed yet, Benedict, but I am a woman. And in a world dictated by the whims of men, the role assigned to women is often reduced to that of an obedient wife, tasked with bringing some affluent man's heir into the world. It's not about what I want; it's about what everyone else around me expects.”

As Benedict made a move to step closer, a surge of urgency propelled you to speak before he could interject. “I should be going now. The palace servants are growing increasingly suspicious.”

Despite the assertiveness in your tone, Benedict, keen to the nuances of unspoken emotions, closed the physical gap between you, and his touch went through the delicate fabric of your glove as he gently took your hand. “We can at least end this in a better way,” he suggested, his voice tinged with a suggestive undertone as he met your gaze.

A resolute “No” escaped your lips, infused with an overt firmness born out of the fear that another moment in his gaze might make you give in to your heart's desires. You couldn't afford the risk of surrendering to the tempting pull of his lips once again, the very lips you yearned for. “That's all I wanted to tell you today,” you continued, gently squeezing his hand as if to punctuate your resolve. Purposefully avoiding his gaze, you added, “It's over, but know that every meeting with you has been a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton. Goodbye.” Articulated so, you withdrew your hand from Benedict's grasp, leaving only the delicate glove in his hold.

With a swift spin, you turned away and your hurried footsteps carrying you out into the rain-soaked streets of London. A quick glance confirmed the absence of prying eyes, making you hasten your pace, putting distance between yourself and the building that housed your shattered heart. As you took each step, the words exchanged at that moment of parting reverberated in your mind. The relation between you and Benedict had ignited sparks of passion and left a sweet ache of longing. Now, the path ahead led you towards the marriage your family desired, a hopeful step to fill the void left by thoughts of Bridgerton.

[writingoddess1125]

Hi, I was wondering if I could request Buggy taking care of reader while they’re sick? Thank you! I’m currently rereading your “find out they have a kid” and I can’t wait for pt3!

Can do! I hope you like this and also thanks for the support! ❤️

Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold

BuggyxGNReader FLUFF

When you woke up that morning, you felt awful... you felt achy and fatigued before the day had even started. However today was a big day, there was a treasure the crew had found a large chunk of Captian John's treasure which would lead to the biggest treasure from the deceased pirate. You were critical for this mission and needed to be on your best. You knew this treasure was important for your partner Buggy- He hadn't even been in bed these last few nights in order to plan for this event.

So some tiredness wouldn't stop you- Forcing yourself up you dressed and went out to the main deck-

You saw your crew practically vibrating in excitement, you saw the island close by that would hold the treasure that your crew was looking for- leaning against the railing you closed your eyes trying to wave away the pain that riddled your body, lightheaded and exhausted.

After a few moments hard footsteps sounded behind you making you turn to see Buggy, dresses in his flashiest best and talking to several crew mates. A wide smile on his lips as he was just as excited as everyone else at this- however you saw his eyes scanning around most likely looking for you.

Once he spotted you his eyes narrowed, your nerves picking up as you knew he could sense something was wrong. Quickly looking away you stare back at the target at hand, feeling Buggy walk right behind you.

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?.. you look a little off" Buggy asked calmly, but you can still feel his narrowed gaze on you. Shrugging quickly you wave it off-

"I'm fine I'm fine-" You try to say but some coughs rattled your lungs, Buggy turned you around quickly as he stares at your face. Him spinning made you feel nauseous and your head starting to thump- not even noticing Buggy was speaking at first.

You stared at Buggy confused as his words seemed to become mumbled like your head was underwater. He stepped closer to you and peeled one of his gloves off with his teeth as he went to press it to your forehead, but before he could you felt the world spin and darkness consume you. Only the feeling of rough hands grabbing you was the last you felt before falling into a deep sleep.

When you woke up you groaned, feeling cold?- opening an eye you see you were in Buggy's room laying in his bed. In thin pajamas and a single blanket over you- Buggy was seated next to you pouring some things into different cups, he was dressed in much simpler clothes not in his flashy attire. You shiver and reach for the heavy blankets at the foot of the bed but Buggy gently grabbed your hand to stop from doing so.

"Don't want you to overheat- Your fever is already really high" Buggy said calmly, adding another thin blanket to help you feel a bit warmer and comforble but not enough to have you overheat. He gently began to give you water, making sure you drank a full cup before he gave you anything else. Downing the water which felt like gold to your sore throat you, and Buggy had to help pace you. Once done he added another pillow behind you you leaned back on happily.

"How long have I've been out?" You grumbled, sinking more into the bed with a tired sigh.

"Few hours" Buggy said calmly, Grabbing a thermometer and holding it to your lips carefully as you did as he commanded. Waiting for the temp to read, which took a few moments showing you had a hell of a high fever.

"You are very sick.. probably a form of flu" He grumbled, careful as he put away the thermometer to be cleaned later. Taking the near by teapot that was on a heater he added in the several premeasured ingredients and stirred them in the white teapot with a spoon. It made you think of a parent making soup for their sick child.

"Man of many talents I see" You try to jest but a series of weezing coughs rattled your lungs. He tried to smile but winced at the hard coughs.

"I suppose, But I learned a lot of skills and sorta became a jack of all trades- But a master of non" He admitted, pouring whatever was in the teapot into a large cup.

"Hot toddy" He said calmly, helping you sit up so you could take the teacup, Raising a brow at it as it smelt heavenly. Drinking it down quickly as your eyebrows raised.

"Is that whiskey?" Buggy nodded pouring you another cup.

"Yep, Whiskey, tea, honey and lemon. Helps with a cough, sore throat and will knock your little ass out so you can sleep" He smiled at you, earning a chuckle from you as you drank another cup. He gave you another drink of water to make sure you were well hydrated before taking your tea cup and laying you back down.

You laid there as you felt Buggy tuck you in on all sides with the blankets, making sure you were good and packed in so you couldn't move and hurt yourself. He grabbed the damp rag and gingerly placed it on your forehead.

"I'm sorry... I blew the mission for today.." You whisper softly, closing your eyes at the feeling of the cool rag on your forehead. Buggy smoothed your sticky hair, his free hand finding yours under the blanket and rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

"(Y/N) it will be there when you're better... besides you are more valuable to me then any Silver and Gold that exist" He said sincerely as he looked at you with only love. You smiled at his sweet words.

"Even Diamons and devil fruits?" You croak out, earning a chuckle from Buggy as he nodded.

"Even diamonds, Rubies and every devil fruit that exist.. Now get some sleep okay?" He said softly. You nodded and drifted off into a dreamless sleep, swearing you heard soft humming of a lullaby as you drifted into rest.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 12: Discovering the Real World

“Here we are live at the Gotham City Policeman's Ball! With a little luck, the money raised from this charity event will be enough to build a new playground for Gotham’s youth!”

Or go filtered unnoticed into the elite’s pockets. These monsters have turned into heroes through the permissive, liberal media. All around me reporters smile and chatter with Gotham’s rich society. Thank God I'm able to go unnoticed.

It’s been a month since my last encounter with Dr. Crane. During that time I’ve been able to pinpoint new targets. No killings yet but there’s plenty of time to spare. When I heard about the upcoming charity ball I couldn’t resist. One fancy black dress and a pair of t-strap heels later I’m at the scene and ready to go. Shrimp cocktails, expensive wine, fudge samples. All completely ridiculous. Except for the fudge samples. Those are still stubbornly delicious.

The other ridiculous part of this event is how many advocates are trying to fish me into their schemes.

“Care to show support for Harvey Dent?”

“I don’t get involved with politics.”

The lady offering me a button doesn’t budge. “It’s not just that. He’s trying to get the Batman more involved with police work.”

My face doesn’t change. “Like I said. Politics. If you don’t mind I’m only here to keep updated with certain… ambitions of mine. Excuse me.”

Harvey Dent is a name that has grown more and more over the past few months. I’m impressed with his moxy against Gotham’s corruption. But I have my own agenda to correlate without relying on someone else again. However there is one person I am looking forward to seeing tonight.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Gordon.”

Jim Gordon. The only cop I can trust in this city. The reason why? He’s the only one who’s worked to be at his rank. No bribes, no blackmail. A simple man with a family who’s trying to clean up Gotham.

“Hello, Dr. Prentiss,” the man smiles and shakes my hand.

“Sadly it’s not ‘doctor’ anymore,” I correct him. “My license is still currently revoked all because of the Arkham incident.”

The kind man’s eyes shine a look of sympathy. “I’m very sorry you had to go through that. No person should ever have to go through that. I’ve seen your file, and I must say you are a very smart and dedicated woman. Your parents would have been very proud.”

He clearly didn’t know them so well.

“Thank you very much, Lieutenant. I hope tonight’s charity will help out.”

“Please, enjoy the ball.”

I nod in departure and continue to the back of the room behind a curtain. A dedicated woman. Indeed I am. This dedicated woman is going to see that all these undeserving, silver-spooned big shots get what’s coming to them.

“Long time no see.” Of course he’s here. Dr. Crane’s familiar taunting voice catches my attention. “I didn’t think you had substantial funds to donate. And I didn’t think you would be willing to associate with these people.”

I slowly turn to face him with an unamused smirk. “I’m not here for charity, Dr. Crane. Events like these are prime opportunities for acquiring information. I don’t mean plain ordinary gossip. I’m talking about vital classified intel.”

The doctor himself is wearing a nicely-pressed black suit. Lord knows where he obtained the money for it. But whether or not he stole the suit he does look rather handsome wearing it.

Crane dismisses my watchful eye and examines my own attire. “You look gorgeous, as usual.”

How flattering. “You’re too kind. I must say you don’t look too bad yourself, Dr. Crane. You clean up nicely.”

He gives a quick huff and toys with a drained champagne glass. “My guess is that you’ve been busy, Dr. Prentiss. Is my assumption correct?”

Something catches my interest. “You still call me doctor. You always have, even at Arkham.”

“Becoming a doctor is no easy task, Calico. I know personally what it’s like to get that taken away.”

That’s right. His record was stricken from the medical community too. His name wasn’t cleared. That is rather sweet that he’s considerate enough to respect it. Did he just use my first name?

“Um, thank you,” I reply, finding it harder to keep my gaze up. In the corner of my eye I see a few uniformed cops chatting. “On another matter, may I suggest that we carry out this conversation in a more private environment?”

Crane sees where I’m looking but does little to show concern. He looks like a professor bored by a lingering lecture and merely inches away towards the back hall. I’ll admit my moral compass has steered a smidgen off course by helping him.

“Excuse me, who might you be?” A new voice asks from behind.

Perfect. Now what? Oh. What have we here?

“Calico Prentiss, sir.”

I’ll admit he is as handsome as the press advertises. I’ve never seen him in person, but for good reason. His rich world far exceeds my own and I want no part of it. The only reason he’s not on my list is because he actually knows the meaning of the word charity.

“Prentiss. Prentiss… As in Harold and Eleanor Prentiss?” he asks with soft eyes.

My parents. Their names spark memories but I push them down. “I’m their daughter.”

He gives me a charming smile. “Pleased to meet you. I’m-”

“Everyone knows who you are, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s billionaire playboy. His reputation upholds his family’s wealth although I do give him credit for attending a policeman’s charity ball. Is it a trick of the light or does he look disappointed at my recognition of him?

“Sadly, yes. I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Prentiss. I heard about the accident-”

“So did everyone else. Kind words have become numb to me.”

My even tone cuts through his condolences. Yet his sympathy does not diminish.

“Well if there’s anything I can do, anything you need, just let me know.”

He’s serious? “To be frank, why are you helping me, Mr. Wayne? You don’t know me. Unless this is a charity publicity stunt-”

“No, no. Not at all,” Wayne quickly interrupts. “I’m offering help because I understand what it’s like to lose a loved one. My parents were killed too.”

He’s not joking? There’s a touch of humility about you, Mr. Wayne. Could he be playing a charade just as I am? Is Bruce Wayne not a dim-witted, arrogant playboy?

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Wayne. But I’d rather not think about the topic. Tonight’s event is a special one.”

Wayne nods in agreement and offers me a champagne glass. Quite the bachelor.

“It’s encouraging to see the city taking a turn to support Gotham’s youth. This banquet was Harvey’s idea.

Harvey Dent? Intriguing.

“Perhaps he is Gotham’s new white night. Lord knows the city deserves him after all it’s been through.” I take a sip of the sweet alcohol. “Let us prosper without fearing the unknown and look to the future.”

Wayne chuckles and looks at me with a curious eye. “You’ve got a bit of a philosophical side, Calico.”

A dark side. “You could say that.” I take another sip, toying with the idea of a new subject. “Have you ever considered the concept of unknown fear?”

Mr. Wayne pauses at my sentence. I’ve struck something.

“How do you mean?”

“Take for example a cornfield. You have to go inside it. Someone tells you there is a vampire waiting to kill you inside. You enter knowing full well what to expect.” Another sip. So far he’s humering my theatrical chat. “Now, consider the same scenario. But this time someone tells you there’s something out to kill you. When you enter you have no idea who or what to anticipate. The fear of something known compared to something unknown is a marvel, don’t you think? Sometimes you never know what might… pop up.”

Is this what Nigma feels like when he sets out a riddle trail? I’m not completely exposing that I plan to take the law into my own hands but it’s fun to tease it.

“That’s very insightful, Ms. Prentiss,” Wayne says, impressed. “Dare I say you are a very unique person. Does fear inspire you?”

No. But I know someone it does.

“My interest is-”

“Did I hear that right? You’re discussing fear?”

Dr. Crane has come out of hiding. How bold. He takes the liberty to stand a bit closer than last time and looks between us with expecting eyes. Is he trying to blow my cover?

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne.” I stiffly grab Crane’s arm. “My colleague and I must be going now.”

Before Wayne can ask further I steer Crane back to the hall and corner him.

“Colleagues, are we?” he smirks. “How exciting.”

“Cut the drama. You interrupted me. What for?”

“I just thought that you’d prefer to discuss fear with someone who’s life is dedicated to the subject.”

No that’s not it. When Crane lies his eyebrows twerk inward. He doesn’t care for my self image or my protection, so what else…?

A lightbulb clicks and an eureka smile grows on my face. “Is Dr. Crane jealous?”

He scoffs and tries to walk away but I cage him in. “That’s childish of you to think so.”

“You know I was a psychiatrist too. I can clearly see you’re lying.”

Crane halts and takes a deep breath, considering his response. “Fine. I don’t think you should trust someone of his… position so easily. His morals aren’t the best.”

“What would you know about morals? The man who abducts pedestrians for his mad scientist projects. Since when is my well-being in your best interest?”

“Very well. Flirt with him. Sleep with him for all I care.” Crane pushes past and walks further down the hall. “You’re poisoning my mind with thoughts of chivalry.”

I glare at the ceiling. “I’m not flirting. It’s called having an intellectual conversation that does not involve being tortured with fear gas.”

Dr. Crane doesn’t answer. What was his plan anyway? Why did he come here tonight? 

CRASH!

An explosion rocks the room and I stumble to the ground. People start screaming and in seconds guests are scurrying in a panic. Peppered gunfire echoes through the noise. This is Gotham, after all. The question is who-?

“Surprise!”

It has to be him. Of course it does. Gotham’s new clown prince of crime has just arrived uninvited to the charity ball. Literally crashing the party.

“We interrupt this boring chit-chat bash with this stirring announcement!” The smiling villain hops onto a banquet table with a tommy gun in his hand. “Unless Batman shows up here tonight, I will kill Gotham’s beloved Commissioner!”

“We will!” A shrill voice giggles.

A new face appears beside him. A clown girl wearing a red and black jester costume, carrying a sledge hammer with a smile painted on each side. 

That’s my cue to skedattle.

I lift up my skirt and discreetly speed walk through the screaming crowd. There’s always a back window.

“Leaving so soon?” Crane’s back.

“Could say the same thing about you,” I remark and begin to climb through. Yes! There’s a fire escape!

“I’m not in the market to be sent back to Arkham. Joker may be crazy enough to tempt Batman but I’m not.”

Outside the night is already filled with the sound of approaching sirens. I’m not waiting around for Batman to show up. I swing onto the metal bars and climb down to the wet pavement. I’ve done this before, just not in a dress.

“Need some help?” The doctor asks from above. “Would hate to see that dress get torn.”

“Shush!” I hiss. 

Almost down- Yes! I drop down and look up to see Crane beginning his own attempt down the fire escape. It’s- It’s hilarious.

“Need some help?” I mock his tone.

He groans. “Either keep quiet or expect to take me to a hospital.”

Bold of him to assume I would if the time comes. He too drops down and takes a second to get his bearings. By now cop cars are only a few blocks away. I personally don’t feel like being interviewed as a bystander.

“Keep up!” Crane takes off sprinting down the opposite direction.

“Why should I follow you?” I shout back. But I run after him anyway.

The sirens are getting closer. Faster faster faster! We bolt several blocks down, jumping in-between the shadows. He’s gotten spry over the past months. Where is he going?

“Over here!”

Dr. Crane’s muffled voice beckons me to a darkened warehouse. Near the docks. This must be his new lab. I should go home. On the other hand…

“You’re not leading me here to drug and experiment on me again, are you?” I put my hands on my hips.

Crane rolls his eyes and grabs my arm to yank me over. “Just get in!”

First thing I notice: it’s clean. The small but intricate lab looks textbook-perfect. The next thing: there are many more vials than the amount in his old office. 

“You’ve been busy, Dr. Crane,” I comment, still looking at his workspace.

“Hands to yourself, please.” Does he mean the lab or himself? “Everything is in a particular order. You can stay until this mess subsides.” He’s inviting me to-? “Consider it as payment for last time.”

So much for not trying to find him. He found me. And instead of avoiding me like his letter promised he invites me to his lab. What game is he playing?

I hear a click and look over to see him turn on a small TV. The screen flickers to life and a reporter stands in front of the building we just came from.

“Summer Gleeson here, reporting live from the Gotham art gallery where the Joker has just interrupted the policeman’s charity ball. Although the Batman attempted to apprehend the criminal, the Joker escaped thanks to the help of his new henchgirl.” The camera pans to where the cops are cuffing the clown girl I saw earlier. She doesn’t seem to mind because she’s smiling like a madman.

“Hiya!”

Summer walks closer and holds up the microphone. “How do you explain tonight’s chaos?”

“It was in the name of love,” the girl gushes.

“It was insanity,” I mutter.

“Love is insanity,” Crane drones and shuts the TV off. “Looks like we’re off the hook for tonight. Have you gotten up to speed with the other new villains? Oh, forgive me.” He points to a small cot. “Would you like to have a seat?”

I search my instincts for any sign to leave immediately but find none. His blue eyes hold no clue of hostility. I suppose a little social time never hurts.

“Thank you for the gesture, but I won’t be staying too long.” Does he look annoyed or disappointed? “I’ve kept in touch with Ivy and Nigma but that’s all. Who else should I know about?”

Crane chuckles darkly and pulls out a stack of newspapers. “You’ve been so caught up with Gotham’s elite that you’ve ignored those who are making headlines elsewhere. This man here, Cobblepot, is a new gang leader. Calls himself Penguin.”

“I don’t deal with gangs.”

He nods and holds up another newspaper clipping. “This one might interest you. A new cat burglar has been stealing jewelry. They call her Catwoman.”

“I don’t deal with thieves. The only one I’m out for is myself, Dr. Crane. I’m a solo act.”

I appreciate his help but I’ve come this far by myself without having to rope anyone else into my plan. As sad as it might sound it helps my mission work better when I have no one to regret leaving if I’m killed.

The doctor shows no expression towards my statement and proceeds to remove his suit jacket, which is now covered with dirt.

“You live here now?” I ask out loud.

“Yes,” he answers simply. “Sorry to disappoint but I didn’t have enough in the month’s budget to live in a luxury complex.”

“You know money means nothing to me,” I assure dryly. “The rich society is one the world can live without.”

“Then why stay? Because you can’t handle it in the real world?” Crane prods.

Anger flashes through me and I bunch up my skirt to inch towards the door. “I am very well aware of the real world, Dr. Crane. My last experience at Arkham made sure of that.” Crane makes no move to stop me when I open the door. “Thank you for the hospitality but I need to return to my ‘luxury complex’ so I can plan out my revenge in peace. P.S.- ‘Don’t bother trying to find me.’ Goodnight, Dr. Crane.”

The doctor sighs and walks over. Is he going to hold me against my will-?

“If you utter a single word of where my lab is, I will inject you with a dose so bad that you’ll never wake up from it.”

Message loud and clear. We both have an understanding. He keeps to his business and I keep to mine. I give him a determined nod and shut the door. Outside and alone again I can be with my thoughts. What was that all about? Why bring me here if he’s only going to insult my ridiculous lifestyle?

It’s starting to rain. I start making my way home and consider calling for a cab. But that would only prove Crane is right. I can handle the real world, I can walk down the street.

“Ah!”

Someone runs up from behind and suddenly a cloth bag is pulled over my head. Another pair of hands grab mine and bind them with- a zip tie? What the Hell is going on?

“Got her! She’s the right one?” I hear one guy say.

“She’s the one in the picture. Let’s go!”

Something smacks against my skull and the lights go out.

[everythingcanadian]

I know we all talk about Peter in lingerie and cute things and skimpy things. And Dr Strange goes wild for it.

But the other end is Dr Strange in uniform. In his scrubs. Or a casual suit and a doctors coat.

Now. Imagine

Peter is in his lab tech gear. Navey Slacks that taper tighter by the ankles, a fitted black shirt under a grey button down. Large safety glasses fitted for Peter. And his lab coat, with his last name patched on the shoulder and the patch under it, is the lab's logo. Along with blue medical-grade gloves that look to be doubled up, it has Stephen wanting. Peter looks like a professional scientist leaning over the metal and glass table.

Stephen is blown away by how affected he is by it. He's bringing Peter lunch and sees the kid looking through a large table top magnifying glass with the lights on the bottom edge. He's turning a small chip looking thing between a pair of rubber padded tweezers.

Something about the deep focus and the lab dress code does something to Stephen.

The other technicians are also in similar wear. An older woman has her hair tied back, too. And Stephen shivers. A supervisor is in full black scrubs that are quite fashionable, and Stephen wonders to himself if Peter would wear something similar for him.

It hits Stephen that he has a new thing to add to the ever growing list of kinks he and Peter have or share.

He knows about Peter's daddy kink, his (perfectly normal in the grand scheme of things) stock of lingerie, the doctor play, spanking, being held down, etc. He knows a lot of it.

But this?

Oh this is something Stephen didn't know he had and is delighted by it. It's something new. He's been around a few times and had thought he explored most if not all of his kinks and turn ons. To find one is a nice feeling.

Peter smiles down at the piece of tech in his tweezers. He must know Stephen is looking at him. His senses would let him know. What he doesn't expect is to see his boyfriend checking him out so obviously when he looks up.

He tilts his head as he puts the chip down onto the soft pad he took it from. He licks his lips and stands up as he strips off his gloves and says something to his supervisor. Probably that he's going for his lunch and will be back in an hour. But he's coming out of the lab and heading to Stephen after hanging up his lab coat and put his glasses into their case in his designated locker.

"So. The lab coat?" Peter teases as they head to the building's cafeteria. They enter the elevator that was already opening on their floor,

"All of it, actually." And his voice croaks a bit but it's a very welcome occurrence when he sees Peter preen. "It's something I never thought about until seeing you wearing your work clothes. I see them in the closet and drawers but never on you. You just look- so professional."

"As opposed to normal?" Peter teases with a small smile, the little shit knows what he's doing.

"Well I do like you in formal wear, and very informal wear, and your suit." Stephen puts a hand at Peter's back as they exit the elevator. "Everyone of your co-workers is also quite attractive in such attire. And you, darling, are very eye catching to me. Always."

Peter's smile as they walk the hallways to the very relaxing looking cafeteria is easy and warm. "I'm going to guess you spotted Bernie. Bernadette, my direct boss. She's quite eye catching. It's the silver hair I think." His grin is shit eating. "I do have a thing for older people."

Stephen's eyebrows raise up. "I hope I'm the only one you call Daddy, Sir, or any other authoritative honorific."

Peter's grin melts to a smile when they sit down and Stephen is pulling out two containers of rice and meat and veggies. "You're it for me, Stephen."

"And you are for me Mister Parker." Stephen's own smile has a bit of an edge as he watches his younger half shiver, the handle of a spoon held out to Peter with the other on the table next to his container. "And I think we both found out something new today. You're taking charge tonight. I want you to wear a lab coat."

"Done and done. I want you to wear sweats and an undershirt. I have plans."

[alphasunpup]

Feedist Kinktober Day 31- Halloween Party/Stuffing

Welp, it's been a fun ride! Thanks again @fatguarddog for the creation of these prompts, really helped me out of a creative rut. Well, enjoy the read yall!

Calling all the monsters blares out of the speakers in your home. You go find your friend through out the "haunted mansion" party she invited you too. Everyone's costume looked so good. There were your typical vampires, werewolves, and witches. But also some elves, a few Frankenstein couple costumes, and even a devil. You find your friend beautifully dressed up as a witch. She's kind of in her normal attire just wearing purple with a sparkly hat.

"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it!" She said wrapping you in a hug. She felt softer than usual. Her brown skin peak out a bit from the thigh cut dress.

"Of course, I couldn't miss it!" You say excitedly.

"I love your costume," she says. You blush, happy that she appreciated your black cat costume. You decided to actually go as the marvel character which a couple people didn't get.

"Thanks and you look gorgeous. I mean you always look gorgeous, I mean, you look great," I say with an embarrassed chuckle.

She blushes and chuckles. "Thanks. Hey, let me show you the appetizers!" She leads you to a gigantic kitchen where there are some caters lining up food.

"Sushi?" She asks and you gratefully nod.

You let out a moan at her placing the sushi dipped in a little soy sauce in your mouth. She gets about six pieces in you before your full. But then there's pumpkin soup. The soup warms and fills your belly. You put a hand to your tummy feeling it press against the leather suit. You decide to ignore it, blaming it on a little bloat. Then she cuts you a slice of "monster ham," something silly to go with the festivity.

Time passes as she feeds you delicious appetizers, main dishes, and dessert. If this was what a first date was, you didn't imagine it would be at a Halloween party, but hey, who cares? When you finally finish you sit down and notice how your belly bloated out against your costume.

You also notice that the silver spoons she was feeding you food with, wasn't real silver, it was stainless steal. You also noticed that the chandelier in the middle of the kitchen was made of 2.8K diamond, the color around the F-G category. You blink, taken back by that knowledge.

You look around and realize your glasses were feeding you an analysis of every expensive looking thing in the house and the authenticity of the items. You take off your glasses/goggles and look around. Your friend was looking plumper than just before and when you put on the glasses they do an analogy showing she had just gained a bit of weight from before. When you start to analyze the party goers, you notice they're all putting on weight at different rates. But they're also becoming their costumes. The people dressed up as vampires, were drinking more and more punch, the punch becoming blood.

Your friend chuckles and smiles. "Good, the reality warping spell is working."

"The what?!"

She gives you a bright smile. "The reality warping spell. Don't worry all the changes will wear off by sunrise. You know, unless a few people enjoyed the new changes," she said. She takes your glasses, looks at them and nods. "Never knew you were a fan of Black Cat."

You blush. You take back the glasses and think about all the cool abilities and knowledge you would have as the thief, Black Cat.

"Well, can this kitty steal your heart?"

Your friend blushes and then softly kisses you. She sucks on your lip a little. "Only if you let this witch keep feeding you," she says and she rubs your belly.

[threecheersforinking]

First Impressions: Daemons of the Shadow Realm

Hey guys! I’m back with a manga review after a really long time. Today I'll be reviewing the first volume of the newest Hiromu Arakawa manga, Daemons of the Shadow Realm (or Yomi no Tsugai)! If you don’t know Hiromu Arakawa, she is the manga author of Fullmetal Alchemist and of Silver Spoon. FMAB is one of my favorite anime ever and I really like Silver Spoon too, so I figured I’d enjoy anything else she wrote. I went into this story knowing absolutely nothing about the plot, and it was refreshing to have that sort of blank slate without any already existing impressions. If you want to experience it the same way, go read it now instead of finishing this review! But if you'd like some more context, I'll be describing the plot below. I will not be posting any major spoilers, just a plot summary.

The story centers around a pair of twins, Yuru and Asa, who are born in a rural mountainside town in a fantasy version of historical Japan. 16 years later, Yuru grows up to be a kind hearted young man who is a talented archer, and Asa is quiet and reserved, kept hidden away in a caged room for unknown reasons and does not speak to anyone but Yuru. One day, their village gets attacked by what appears to be helicopters and men in modern military attire. While trying to escape the chaos, Yuru discovers that he possesses the ability to control two daemons who will act as his guardians.

I don't read a ton of shonen or fantasy manga, so going into this I was hesitant and unsure about how much I would like it. This early in the manga, it is difficult to tell how deep or complex the plot is going to be, but so far it seems to be a fairly typical anime fantasy story. It is also shaping up to be a reverse-isekai, which is not what I was expecting but I am optimistic about that concept. Overall, I like it well enough so far but I am hoping there will be more complex themes and story beats as the story goes on.

Unsurprisingly though, Hiromu Arakawa's real strength is the character dynamics and designs. All of the characters in this story are immediately likable, charming, and interesting, even at their first introduction. It is difficult for me to pick a favorite without listing the entire cast, but I absolutely love Gabby and Yuru, and Left and Right (Yuru's Daemons) have such fun lightning-inspired designs.

If you've read it, let me know what you think! I am definitely going to be reading more as soon as more chapters are translated and available.

Thanks for reading,

-threecheersforinking

[moonshoon]

Mr. Kim

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!sunoo x secretary!reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst word count: 1.1k

summary: y/n is working as a secretary for kim sunoo - CEO. sunoo is very strict, usually doesn't want a secretary to help, and has a very strict schedule employees have to go by. y/n get's fed up by it and decids to quit, sunoo doesn't want that.

warnings: maybe angst, rude!sunoo, strict!sunoo

shortenings: l/n > family name y/n > your name

"ms. l/n! i'm still waiting for my tea and you're five minutes late based of your schedule!" i heard mr. kim's voice ring through the mansion, all the way from his office down to the kitchen where i was, preparing his chamomile tea. the hot water was almost ready, but i knew i would be scolded very harshly by my boss - mr. kim - because i won't be on time with my schedule.

when i started working at the kim's mansion, for their son, who was a CEO – 23 years old and he was already one of the most famous CEOs in the whole world, everything because of family business –, i didn't expect to be tortured like this at work.

mr. kim's mother warned me though, that her son was a very strict, cold, and merciless being. he didn't want any maid or secretary because he believed he would do his work better alone. and every time he actually had a maid, a butler, or a secretary they would resign again after a few days. i even heard that the longest someone was able to work for him was around one week and a half, and i was determined to break that record and stay hired for longer than that.

i was woken up from her thoughts as the tea pot started whistling and steam began to escape under the lid. my hands quickly found their way to the pot to take it off the stove and put some into the teacup that was prepared with the tea bag already in it. some honey was on the small tray too, along with a silver spoon.

as soon as i filled the cup with water and put the pot onto the tray too, i made my way up to his office, slightly kicking against the door three times to knock and waiting for mr. kim to allow her to enter.

"come in." i heard the cold voice from behind the door.

my elbow pushed the door handle down and i entered, approaching the CEO's desk slowly and putting the tray down onto it. i put the cup and the pot with water down onto the table, putting a little cork palette under the tea pot to not make any marks on the expensive wooden office table.

"care to explain why you were so late, ms. l/n?" he questioned.

"i'm sorry, sir." i said as i bowed down in front of him.

"i was still out in the garden watering the plants as the schedule says, and i didn't realize it was already time for you afternoon tea, sir. i apologize again."

"well... , i'll let it slide this time, but the next time you aren't on time, your salary will be reduced by ten percent."

i widened my eyes in shock. ten percent was a lot, and i needed the money to be able to save up for the college i will be starting at next year.

"yes, sir. i'll be punctual next time; i'll make sure of that."

mr. kim nodded, the waved me off to go continue my other chores.

as i was preparing mr. kim's dinner, i took a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. when i realized there were five minutes left until mr. kim expected his dinner, i knew i had to hurry.

i quickly took a plate out and put it on the tray, stirring the pasta – flown here from Italy from a specific producer, because mr. kim didn't like anything else – in the pot faster, somehow having hope it would be finished sooner by doing this. i knew it was of no use to hurry now, because if i actually took out the pasta too early and made it on time, the sir would have something to say about it not being cooked enough.

and five minutes later, as expected, i heard mr. kim's voice.

"where is my dinner, ms. l/n?"

so i made my way into the dining room, stopping my steps in the doorframe as i saw what mr. kim was wearing.

he wasn't wearing his usual suit and tie, the formal attire that i was used to seeing him in his office with. he was wearing a loose shirt and some sweatpants.

"th-the dinner will be ready in a few minutes. the pasta hasn't finished cooking yet."

"didn't i tell you the next time you were late your salary would be cut by ten?"

and that's when my eyes began to tear up. i needed the money. urgently or i wouldn't have enough by the end of the year to pay my first year of college.

"ye-yes, mr. kim...", i whispered as my voice cracked.

i mentally cursed at myself for not talking louder and more stable instead of letting mr. kim know i was crying like this. in this exact moment, the timer in the kitchen went off, letting me know the pasta had finished cooking.

again i checked the clock, three minutes too late. why was he that strict? i didn't know. probably just to get me to resign earlier.

i made my way into the kitchen again, quickly wiping away my tears with my black apron and taking the pot with the pasta off the stove. i let out the water and then put the pasta on the plate and topped it off with some tomato sauce and cheese.

just then, i heard footsteps nearing the kitchen. when the person, probably mr. kim, entered, i could feel his burning gaze on my back.

"why are you crying, y/n?" he asked, his tone way softer than else.

i didn't answer.

"i asked you why you are crying." he said again, this time his voice was sterner again.

when i didn't reply again, he shouted.

"WHY ARE YOU CRYING?"

in a calm tone she responded: "three weeks and i think this is it. i can't keep working here if i don't get paid enough. and on top of that, i don't like being treated like an animal. yelled at with every opportunity you get, if i don't do something right i either am not allowed to eat or my salary will be cut short, the constant comments about how i should just quit. do you think i like that?"

He could hear my voice slowly cracking again and again, mr. kim's heart did the same, cracking over and over as i continued explaining why i hated being where i was. and my final words made him realize he fucked up big time.

"here's your god damn pasta. 

I QUIT"

that's when he ran over to me, wrapping his arms around my frame and kissing my soft lips with force. i tried to push him away, but no success. he just hugged me tighter.

"i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry, love. i shouldn't have treated you this way. i love you so much i can't even explain. lord- i can't even explain how i fell for you, a miracle i tell you. i have never felt this way about anyone else in my life, so please don't leave me alone here again. i promise i will try to get better..."

[solavirtus]

𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑬 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑺... フジワラケンジ

( ryosuke yamada , nonbinary , he/them ) — the halls of verum academy is home to KENJI FUJIWARA, the twenty-seven year old student of elixirs. listen to the whispers that follow them through the door of the advanced elixirs classroom, the ones about straight posture, a metaphorical pin against your back, the weight of generations of khemia on your shoulders, whispers of your surname when you walk through the corridors, chest tight with the urge to make a name of your own, clashing with the expectations of your family. once they graduate, their legacy will be one that is adroit and independent in nature, but the records will not mention that they are known to be rebellious and rash, too. they are, after all, the future of verum. ╱ kira, twenty-five, she/her, gmt+3.

BIOGRAPHY ( cw child neglect, allusions to corporal disciplinary punishments )

the fujiwara name echoes through the halls of your three-story manor. uttered in the same vein as the history of khemia. a throne carved for you even before you are born. a life already set, everything you have to become laid in front of you. you don't need to think, just to follow that path. it's easy. it's supposed to be.

you want anything but to sit on that throne. despite the shackles around your limbs tying you down, you fight it with everything you can.

will you every break them? despite the hefty cost?

—

kenji is born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he spits it out at every chance. weight of generations upon his shoulders, a pin against his back at every turn. sit up straight. use the right fork. don't use those crude words. private tutors teaching him ancient languages, the history of khemia, as well as the history of his own family. expectations from his parents are drilled into him from the moment he learns how to speak. before he is given the chance to figure out who he wants to be.

both parents working high up within the government, he sees the help around the house more than his blood family. the nannies, the tutors. the housekeeper. a lot of people act to be on his side but mostly carry whatever he has done that day to his father: 'kenji was particularly stubborn today, failed his latin exam.' or 'his piano work was sloppy, he should train harder.' or 'he is a bright kid, just needs to study more'

learns from a young age that anyone who exists under his father's shadow, in his control, is never going to be on his side. the word 'father' rots in his mouth. a taste that he cannot wash away. no matter how much he tries. the distance includes his mother, who is somehow more absent than he is. whatever she says feels like an echo of the patriarch, the same knives that cut into the skin, leaving marks.

oil paintings of his grand-grandparents decorate the walls. he sees them every single day as he walks to his room. someone thrice-removed, a couple wearing an attire so old, he thinks they must be made up. they all look prideful, yet also look down on him in a way that reminds him how he cannot fill those shoes. how much he does not want to. 'look at who you are supposed to be. then look back into yourself.'

his affinity for magic comes to no one's surprise. there is no celebration or a pat on his back. not even a smile. only pursed lips and a vice grip on his shoulder. nails dig into the skin from the fabric of his robes. an order both loud and unspoken, to work even harder now. do better.

it's with him going to verum that he can break free even further from those shackles. while it posed to be more of a challenge when he spent so much time at home, he jumps at the idea of living in the school dorms. to leave his family, to become who he is beyond the legacy breathing down his neck.

rebels in every single way he can. dig his own claws in, lashes at every single expectation. it begins with his attire, the physical manifestation of who he really is. dark, messy robes versus the pristine ones with the fujiwara coat of arms. bulky and heeled boots, silver rings around his fingers, sounds of his belt buckles clanging with every step. he makes himself look large to feel as large as the world.

as the boy who seems to have everything: the wealth, the money, the fame —  he forfeits it all whenever he gets the chance. regardless of the angry letters he receives at every turn, he tries to be true to himself. his choice of major: elixirs, is too common, too normal for the name— but his parents finally wrap their mind around it, framing it so to other families that it is a valiant line of work, especially with the war looming.

despite it all, he does enjoy khemia. spending hours cooped up in the library, in the elixir classrooms, injuries littering his arms from failed experiments. trying to come up with new concotions himself. he isn't a stellar student by any means, too mouthy, too defiant to listen to orders. though his talent and affinity for khemia show up in ways that he passes every class, knowing the subject matter by heart regardless of how much he can vex his professors.

what he does not expect is that he possesses rare magic. at an instance where he cannot stop the way anger and frustration claw up his chest, his notebooks and pens convulse on the table akin to an earthquake. once they fall down on the wooden floors of the library, there is no mistaking it.

it becomes a well-kept secret that he keeps close to his chest, not wanting this to be something else that defines him. knows that if his parents were to learn, they would be elated to show him off — claim that they have always known he was special, that it is of course fitting the fujiwara legacy.

the mere idea of that smug expression on their faces makes him lock the secret tighter. wows to himself to make sure they never learn.  

it's a battle every day to figure out who he is, growing closer and closer to breaking those shackles. sometimes he thinks he has suceeded — until his father finds a way to pull him back into it. the angry letters from the man continue, despite it growing lesser in frequency. the fight in kenji remains, fire burning ever bright.

[oswinunknown]

retirement

notes: idk how these work but aye heres a fic of old man mark and the elderly captain post iswm

mainly fluff

sat at the entrance seat, the captain laces up their shoes slowly yet tenderly. their eyes shining with the warm yellow light of a summer morning shining through the quaint cottage windows of their home. wooden chestnut floors shone the sunlight up and around the house like it always had. the odd sock or bolt lying strewn on the floor making the living room feel lived in. 

the captain finishes tying their shoelaces and leans backwards and into the wall with a deep yet muted sigh. eyes closing to take in the many noises around them

they could hear their colony's ambient noise in their old ears. the odd sound of a modern car humming along on the street, the few people already up and about, the smell of freshly cut grass. it all became background noise that holds a melodic tune to anyone who became used to it. it was the type of noise that you missed when met with total silence. the gentle backing track to the many lives within the colony.

the captain opens their eyes and turns to see their head engineer walking down the stairs in similar looking attire, body hunched over as he hobbles down humming a small tune underneath his breath. the light hitting his grayed hair like a frame to his picture perfect face. each strand was like silver under the light and added a nostalgic age to his wrinkled smile.

"ready to go captain?" he asks, eyes glimmering with an energy they grew to know well.

the captain airily laughs. "you know i haven't been a captain for years now, mark."

"you may not be a captain now," he extends a hand out to them. "but you will always be my captain."

the captain beams, taking his hand and lifting themself up before giving him a small peck on the cheek. "and you will always be my head engineer."

mark flushes, giving a content smile before making his way to the door, his hand holding the captain's. "alright, lets save this fluff for later. we got a busy day ahead of us!"

"lead the way dear."

-------------------

the day flew by relatively easily.

the captain and mark took a long stroll around the colony, visiting crewmates and colonists alike. even seeing the odd few children who would hide behind their parent's legs in awe of the renowned captain and their engineer.

at noon they were at the park, having brunch with the other crew leads on the invincible and catching up on their lives. burt barely aged a day. the only sign of age shown in grayed hairs and raspy voices. celci still looked more spry than the other three crew leads. her blue hair even more frosty as strands of gray littered across her hair. gunther aged pretty well. face adorned with scars and wrinkles as his circular framed glasses caught the sunlight and made him look like the same gunslinger they knew all those years ago.

by the afternoon, the two found themselves at a local diner opened nearby their home. the night sky shining with its many wonders as the string lights illuminated down onto their table and around the patio. plates of food polished off and eaten.

the captain wipes their mouth of any remains of food, placing the tissue next to their plate as they notice mark's focus on eating his chocolate ice cream.

the captain closes their eyes again. their ears being met with the same melodic ambience within their colony. the faint howling of the wind bringing a slight chill to their face as they take in the communal warmth of their community.

"what are you doing captain?" mark calls, the captain's eyes still shut.

"im just," they pause

"im just listening to my home."

the captain hears a faint noise of understanding before they hear a clicking of a spoon against a bowl.

they continue like this for some time. mark quietly ate his ice cream while the captain listened to the sounds of life around them. nothing but the soft chime of a faint speaker playing songs of old.

"care for a dance cap'?" 

opening their eyes, the captain sees mark absent from his seat. turning their head they find their puppy eyed engineer looking down at them with an extended hand.

they take the offer with a grin. standing up to meet mark.

mark gently pulls on their arm and leads them into the center of the patio. the speakers directly above their hunched bodies as mark places his left hand on their shoulder, his right holding onto their left. the captain swiftly mimics his position before they start slowly swaying to the rhythm.

the captain sighs, head against mark's chest as they sway left and right. 

mark yelps suddenly, his foot stepped on.

the captain looks at him guiltily, "sorry dear!"

"im fine." mark looks up at them, sharply inhaling. "i can take it."

"but still." the captain takes mark's hand. caressing it gently and gently rubbing their thumb across its back. "i suppose i'm not as much of a dancer as before."

mark tilts his head inquisitively. "what do you mean?"

they chuckle, "look at me mark, i'm not the same young and spry captain that stepped foot on the invincible. ready for whatever came their way."

it was mark's turn to take the captain's hand. 

"its funny."

"what is?"

"you remember when i told you 'distance and time are the same thing from different perspectives'?"

the captain nods. eyes looking down at the pavement.

"well. the captain you see is a whole lot different to the captain i see."

mark lifts the captain's head up to meet his gaze. 

he smiles. "and you look like the same captain i fell in love with."

the captain's eyes shone as their heart pounds against their chest.

looking up at him felt like the captain was back on the ship again. arms wrapped around his waist as they held each other tight. young bodies, aged minds, tired eyes. they could see the young engineer that welcomed them aboard, the same engineer who sat with them at the galactic diner, the same engineer who said i do at their wedding.

the captain leans in swiftly for a kiss. the feeling of his lips on theirs holding the same comfort it always had, yet it felt just as exciting as the first. 

breaking apart, the captain and mark gaze into each other's eyes. no words spoken yet holding the same message within. a silent "i love you".

the two would continue to dance under the moonlight. nothing but the noise of life and their hearts to accompany them. 

a captain and their engineer. forever intertwined.

[bitterarcs]

Snot nosed wasn’t the most accurate description; it was particularly inept considering a silver, mako coloured spoon had been in the boy’s mouth since the moment of birth. It was a reality so unlike what he both experienced and witnessed, that, despite loyal ties to ShinRa, he held no particular positive alignments to the child who would become president one day. Any board member and employee with a single working eye and several brain cells could perceive the tension between father and son, and what for? Rufus ShinRa was the spitting image of his father, if not in appearance ( yet ) then in ambition and razor edge personality.

Father issues —  toss a rock in a crowd, and someone was liable to hit ten people with resentments toward one or both parents. Equally as difficult as it was to breach the mindset of someone born into wealth and power was liking said person, however Reno was a professional and did not require emotions to dictate loyalty. Each day was a test for the Turks. Reno wondered from time to time, mostly idly, if he would ever reach a point when he could stroll though headquarters without pants and not receive a reprimand —  if he ever felt as though his head was not on some chopping block.

Never, most likely, though Tseng and Rude appeared serene with their behaviour, perhaps because they were simply more level-headed than he. Reno’s personality was allowed to shine out from the darkness of professional then and now, but he kept his head down . . for the most part. Work, rest. Work, rest. A little bit of play. As long as the higher ups were not roaming the halls, headquarters proved the unlikely place to relax. With Verdot nowhere in sight and Tseng doing Tseng things, it was up to Reno to pester his bald headed partner until the man cracked.

                                  (  ❛  Drinks? No drinks? Alright, then, let’s haze the SOLDIER recruits. We need to see if they can handle the heat, no? We get a smoke bomb and then —  come on, man, let’s do something FUN.  ❜  )

Tension was evident in the other man’s posture, but there was no sign of lips parting for a response. Reno stood on the tips of his toes and attempted to wrap an arm around the other Turk’s shoulders in a jovial manner. From behind sunglasses, a dense glare was tossed his way as shoulders easily shrugged off the advance.

                                       (  ❛  How about . . these.    ❜  )

He faked a move to the left and used his swiftness to snatch Rude’s sunglasses and evade an unforgiving hand. The redhead performed a pirouette to place more distance between them, and then wagged a finger reproachfully at the large Turk.

                                       (  ❛  I make the rookies fight for this.   ❜  )

It was no surprise the idea did not qualify what Rude considered fun. A grunt of displeasure formed in the other Turk’s throat before he threw himself forward; the length of his reach a fair opponent against Reno’s swiftness. He kept himself facing forward against Rude, chuckling as he darted like a mischievous child. Surprise, at least the closest thing he had ever witnessed, moved across Rude’s face. He stood his ground, and just barely got out Reno’s name when the redhead slammed into something . . someone that was not a wall.

The sunglasses fell from his grip in midst of the chaotic movement, and expression of displeasure across Reno’s face evaporated when he turned on his heels. It wasn’t some dumb desk jockey; it was Rufus ShiRa. The colour drained from Reno’s face, even seemed to drain from the crimson markings on his cheekbones. The little boy had fallen, and worst of all, Reno’s elbow had jammed his lip against his teeth. Against the white of his attire and the palor of his complexion, the crimson hue was frighteningly visible.

                                           (  ❛ Shit. I mean fuck. No, sorry, sir. I didn’t mean it. Rude . . and I . . and sorry. I’m really sorry.   ❜  )

An attempt to help the boy only resulted in a nasty expression crossing face and hands being smacked away. FuckfuckfuckFUCK. The president was going to have his nuts in a vice grip for that. There was no coming back from the shitlist after that. Reno did not know what humility was, but he attempted to rouse it at the moment for the sake of his livelihood.

                       [  BLEED  ]  for  reno to make rufus bleed.    @ivory-paragon​​                                                         (   is this a love confession, rufus ??  )  

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Theodore “Theo” Holms is based on Tramp from Lady And The Tramp. He is a 41 year old human, detective, and uses he/him pronouns. He has no powers. Theodore is portrayed by Ben Barnes and he is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

On the outside looking in one wouldn’t expect that Theodore Holms grew up in the lap of luxury. Yes, this tramp was in fact born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Although Theo had all the comforts that the lower classes didn’t, he hated every moment of it. Attending constant dinner parties in uncomfortable suits and ties just to watch his family constantly schmooze other snobbish rich folks to uphold their reputation. It never made sense to Theo, and it still doesn’t. From the beginning all Theodore wanted was to be himself, imperfect and all. He didn’t want to worry about keeping his clothes spic and span or wondering if he had said the wrong thing. He was a kid after all, Theo just wanted to feel like one instead of an accessory to his family's name.

Tensions really began to rise when Theo became a young adult. At this point he no longer cared to play along to his parents guidelines. He would show up to events late in casual attire usually drunk off his ass, and cursing at anyone that dared come up to him. It reached a boiling point to where his father finally stood kicked him out of the house without a cent to his name. For years Theo traveled alone, sleeping under railways and empty alley ways. He didn’t have a home but he had never felt more free in his life. Finally he could be himself without the worry of being ostracized. He was content with learning the ropes of the streets on his own. It wasn’t that hard, a place to sleep, a hot meal, with one night stands and all included. Each morning brought a new adventure and it kept Theo bright eyed and exhilarated. 

Things began to change when he hitched a ride and found himself in a town called Evermore. Bumping into one of Evermore’s top socialites on his first day there. She seemed distraught and he knew better to leave a lady in distress. Apparently she had the same upbringing as him but that wasn’t something he shared with her until later on. After their initial meeting the two were inseparable. Theo taught Layla how to let loose and enjoy the simple things in life and she taught him how take responsibility. And as cliché as it was, they fell head over heels. Fast forwards a few decades Tramp is now living his life in a way he used to detest. However with Lady by his side everything felt like it was falling into place. They had a happy loving home with three children to show for it. Vowing to himself that he’d never let his kids feel the emptiness he had endured growing up.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Helena Borne: She’s always the first to tip him off on any unusual behavior around town. A handful of times she’s been right too, Theo knows she’s a trustworthy ally.

❀ Carter Pille: Theo isn’t stupid, he lived on the streets long enough to know a shady person when he see’s one. The only problem was no one had dirt on him, his hands were seemingly clean on the outside looking in. Theodore however begs to differ.

❀ Louis Blanchard: Theo and Louis are thick as thieves, the moment they met the conversation flowed really well and they both seemed to have a laid back attitude. Theo is willing to do anything for his best pal.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

[zianramn]

𝐙𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇-𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓 — ​🇷​​🇦​​🇾​​🇲​​🇴​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇦​​🇧​​🇱​​🇦​​🇨​​🇰

THIRTY-SIX YEARS OLD; CIS MAN ; ENGLISH & CREATIVE WRITING PROFESSOR AT UNCW; has lived in MIDTOWN since april 2022

"The sky set to burst, the gold and the rust, the colour erupts, you fillin' my cup. The sun comin' up like I lived my whole life before the first light;"

name's pronounced zee-ahn; last sibling to join the Hearst empire although, he would rather eat his own foot to ever be involved in the family business; born and raised basking in the old money ways, zian didn't really have that much attention from either parent growing up. when his mother remarried, his step-father was actually the one to give him love and attention. the pressure of being a hearst and the treatment from his step-siblings caused zian to start a long-term relationship with drugs, especially cocaine and crushed vicodin pills. he spent a lot of his summers in wilmington when younger, because his step-dad had a summer home by the beach. yale alumni zian took a job as an english & creative writing professor in uncw two years ago. although he’s always considered himself a functional addict, a bad break-up had him spiraling down and eventually having an overdose a few months ago, which was really a wake-up call to him, so he’s been trying to get himself cleaned. he’s a romantic soul who will speak poetically when in love and in awe. henley shirts and jeans are his usual attire alongside his camera; often has a book in his hands, too, and will definitely stop you to pet your dog.

information —

triggers for — mentions of drugs & drug usage

Zian was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Not only was their father rich, but their mother also came from old Connecticut money, which meant that anything the young boy wanted, they could have it. However, while the Ramnauth residence had tons of money to spare, it also lacked love and affection. Their father traveled a lot and their mother was often too enthralled in high society parties to pay attention to her own child, and so, Zian was raised by nannies, by piano tutors, violin professors and by the help around the house. As a child, he craved for the attention only parents could give, and only parents could also deny, and so, Zian would often find refuge in old sculptures in museums, in beautiful paintings and in books, often capturing the world through pictures which would allow the young Ramnauth to tell a story only they could know.

When he was fifteen, Zian’s mother divorced his father, which, did nothing much to his life as he barely saw the man to begin with. However, it apparently caused his mother Nandini to seek for the young teenager’s attention, thus making him often confuse her neediness for affection. And just like that, the woman transformed someone who had spent their first fifteen years of their life being neglected, into someone who would do anything and everything for their mother, after all, it was them against the world; or so she said.

By the time Zian had finished high school, his mother had already found a new lover to call her own, a man by the name of Oscar Hearst, who came with three other children and a billion dollar empire to be fought over once he bit the dust. One, Zian couldn't care less about because he already was, as a matter of fact, filthy rich, thanks to his maternal grandparents.

To Zian, that union meant little to nothing. He had already been accepted to study English Literature in Yale earlier that year, so he didn't need the Hearst name to make exceptions for him, he already had picked a career, so he didn't need to battle for the Hearst Co. empire... he already had a father, though a distant one, so he didn't crave for one in Oscar. The only good thing it gave him, was the chance to make him come down to Wilmington during his summer vacations and it allowed him to meet his best friend Julian while there. To Oscar Hearst, however, it meant he’d gotten the son he’d always dreamed of having: nice, polite, responsible and dedicated. It meant he could dote on someone without being shut down, that he could take someone to ball games, spend afternoons chatting over a glass of Brandy, and to take on New York by its horns and steer the fate of his company.

The biggest question about this union, however, remained about his step-siblings. Zian didn’t know whether they were annoyed about sharing their father’s love with the younger man, or, sharing his empire with a whole new family, although, Zian had always made it known that he had not interest in getting in the family business. And yet, he still went on and graduated with a Business minor because his mother had asked him to. Yet, he still started working for Hearst Co. in his early years with an entry job because his step-father asked him to, but God, he hated it.

He started spiralling down and developing a close relationship with illicit drugs in order to escape the hell he kept constantly being dragged to, by the people his mother had brought into his life without any sense of consideration for his boundaries. The more time he spent around his step-siblings family, the more miserable he felt. His spark suddenly being diminished by the companies he would keep, his brightness considered weakness. His love for photography was laughed on, his smart and diplomatic ideas were ignored, so, he stopped trying to please the part of his family who dispised him and started working towards giving himself a taste of happiness.

After spending some time enjoying endless nights hopping from gallery soirees, to parties, and eventually landing in strangers beds in New York City, Zian became attached to the boost of energy certain white powders would give him, despite also knowing that should anything like that reach his step-father’s ears, he would be done for. But, Zian was living for the thrill.

Three years ago, Zian accepted a position at the University of North Carolina, teaching English in the Corporate Communications, Public Relations programs and Creative Writing, too, which, is what actually makes him happy nowadays: the academic life. It’s not as glamorous as being in the line of succession of Hearst Co., but considering how he knows his step-siblings would rather see him dead than in charge of their father’s empire, Zian is more than happy to not be going toe to toe with these people and just living the simple life away from the New York chaos.

Wilmington had always been a place that, ever since getting into the Hearst family, he’d always visited, because Oscar had houses near the beach. And so, one could say that Wilmington was the closest thing he’d ever had for a home, so, it almost felt like coming home again when he decided to take the job at the UNCW.

[daughterofdarkness777]

poem for nobody

RUN / Don’t call me your muse I might be amused don’t you know a muse dies tragically in a poetic way since she is a broken femme fatale that inspires artists well  look at me what do you see? Exactly. You thought my eyes were blue. You thought I looked like you . You thought I’m empathetic but wow you are beyond pathetic anyway this isn’t about YOU, because you are nobody’s muse . Gifts and trips all around the globe Santa Claus always brought me more more more .  Silver spoon I spat it out immediately  i bit the hand that actually never fed me , I’ve been starving since 1995. But I’ll change the paradigm Fuck it I’ll turn it all around . I’ve lost it all already so now I’m free free from any fear being fearless is a gift it’s my superpower now and throw it all at me you’ll see disagree I don’t care I know nobody would go near a bee for me this isn’t my girl anymore since I stand alone . You know what ? I am a muse. Just not yours . My own muse. Redefining the weight that word carries imma muse who is immortal you can’t touch me abuse me or hurt me in any way just try me you can not defy me I’m fucking magic call  me Hermione. Resilient brilliant both my traits .  I’m happy I’m sad where is the difference! I’m in my feelings no drake. This is the part where you start crying … can you hear me crying ? I hate to be to break this to you but you’ve got em all fooled they think you’re the shit but I can see right through you death becomes me not you . Immortality eternal beauty cmon look at yourself or better don’t cause if you take a good look and see through this image you so profoundly worked on for years the mirror might crack and you’ll see a toddler in an adults body pathetic as Fuck no ounce of confidence nor self image.Whoa this shit Is wack. I actually thought I was the one the one who was to blame for all your selfish games and every time I spoke my truth you made me feel insane you were clearly winning at your own game well now the tables are turned and I have switched ,  I’ll never be your bitch, those 4 Years i can’t have them  back you robbed me even of that time , my time , it’s not something I regret now I can spot monsters like you from a far and one last thing if you’re a superstar dude then I am an introvert very shy invisible to everyone around me . You’re so funny although you lack a sense of humour all the yarn you spin daily the fabrications you have to make up  so you can live with yourself . Someone should be honest with you . You’re nobody a zero boring to a degree that could be lethal so stop inflicting pain onto others who do you think you are babes ? You’re not a special snowflake you’re talentless beyond belief how could I have missed your kiss   ? Stupid me stupid you stupid world stupid people around us , that’s the past tho the future will come for you and when it does you’re not gonna make it through . Weak as hell lying  is the only thing you know how to do . Now enough about you I’m happy you shaped me into who I am today I’m glad about everything I’ve been through they  say once you’re in hell start running I am racing. And I’ll be dancing in fire dressed in my crying boy attire a trip to Venus all I desire . I’m non conforming to anyone any longer yup I’m a million times stronger .  Beg you run . Go ahead you’ll soon be dead dont waste your time with a vampire incapable of love /don’t  touch me no you can’t hold my hand I’ve been burnt before that’s why my love is deficit surely ain’t affectionate all I wanna do is spend time with her just her so go run you don’t compare you’ll never be anything like her . Run away . It’ll be okay . I don’t want to know if you reep what you sew.