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cyripticchronicler · 5 months

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Ink and Destiny - James Potter

In a world full of soulmates, the last thing you'd expect is James Potter to be yours.

Warnings: Soulmate au, swearing

Masterlist

Part two Part three Part four

The Hogwarts Library was always your place to go if you needed to escape. Nothing but the quiet turns of pages and whispers to keep you company. It was where you found yourself on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wanting to catch up on some reading.

As you scan the old shelves you pause at the sight of an old book. It wasn’t the fact it was old that drew your attention, no there were many old books in Hogwarts, it was the name of the book. ‘How To Find Your Soulmate.’

My soulmate. You’ve never cared for my soulmate. Never tried to write to him on your arm like everyone else. And he never did either.

And even though you deny it, it’s rather lonely. Maybe that’s why you pick up the book. To fill the loneliness in your heart.

The book opens on the first step and you read eagerly;

Start conversations with them

You scoff, no shit. You slam the book shut and place it back on the shelf. You wouldn’t even know what to say to him.

There are limits to what you can say. You can’t say your name, where you live or anything that can reveal your identity straight away.

But as you find an empty table, planning to catch to do some homework, you grab your quill, dunking it in ink, pausing above your arm.

A droplet of ink falls from the quill and onto your arm and you swear quietly. The ink shimmers until it’s gone.

Not allowing yourself to think, you write a sloppy ‘sorry’ on your arm and get back to your homework.

You block it from your mind, ready to forget about the whole situation. But as you exit the library you can’t help but glance at your arm, tensing at the sight of black ink across your arm.

“It’s alright, Love. How are you?”

You don’t respond until you are back in the confines of your dormitory, responding with a hurried, “I’m alright. How are you?”

He responds immediately and you cross your legs on your bed eagerly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” You roll your eyes, knowing a playboy when you see one- or read one per se.

You ignore him, going downstairs into the Gryffindor common room to hang out with your friends.

Your eyes roll once again when you hear James Potter’s loud voice at the top of the stairs, his voice getting louder as you make your way down the stairs.

“-Hasn’t responded,” James says, his voice laced with defeat. You ignore him, smiling when you find Lily painting her nails in the corner.

You place your hands down on the table, smiling sheepishly and she rolls her eyes before starting to paint your nails.

“I did something,” You mutter shyly and she raises her eyebrow in question. “I talked to my soulmate.”

She grins brightly before falling slightly, “James did too. He's talking about it really loudly.”

You tense, shrugging your shoulders, “So? It’s not like we’re going to be soulmates. I hate him.”

She relaxes slightly, going back to painting your nails a pretty pink, “Yeah. You can’t be soulmates with someone you hate. What did you say anyway?”

You nod in agreement, recalling the things you said just moments ago.

You converse until she’s finished your nails and then you both make your way downstairs for dinner.

Not looking where you’re going, you bang into a hard chest, looking up, you scowl at the man in front of you.

“Sorry, Love.” James grins, letting go of your waist. You tense. Love? It’s just a coincidence. Heaps of people call someone Love.

You nod your head silently and walk around him, your stomach rumbling with hunger.

—-

“Are you still ignoring me?”

You roll your eyes at the message on your arm. It’s been three days since you first talked to him, three days since you started ignoring him.

Lily notices the message on my arm, wiggling her eyebrows playfully before leaning into whisper, “Respond. He can’t be that bad.”

You shake your head in disagreement but go to respond anyway.

“Yes.”

His response was immediate, “What did I do?”Your cheeks are flushed as you respond. He didn’t even do anything, “Nothing.”

“That’s very helpful, thank you.” You roll my eyes as more words appear on your arm, “Why is Professor McGonagall so creepy?”

You laugh quietly in agreement, sneaking a look at the front from where she’s watching Sirius and James like a hawk.

You freeze. It’s just a coincidence.

“She’s not that bad.”

“She probably likes you.”

You laugh quietly, “You probably mess around too much.”

“You got me there, I do like a good prank.” You freeze again, everything pointing to James Potter. As subtle as you can, you peek over at where he’s sitting, hunched over his desk, quill in his hand. He’s probably just taking notes.

It’s not like you hate James, it's just he’s loud, and arrogant. But he’s cute, you’ll give him that.

You scan the room, noting many other people with quills in their hand. It could be anyone.

“Do you play quidditch?”

You watch James tense, looking around before slouching again.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m the seeker.”

You tense. He can’t be my soulmate.

You pull up your sleeve immediately, not wanting anything to do with him.

Maybe you're being too harsh. You’ve only talked to him once and that was when you walked into him. But you’ve heard things about him. How he always pranks people, how his ego is as big as Hogwarts himself.

You sigh, pulling your sleeve up again, “Gryffindor seeker?”

His handwriting comes out shaky, “Yes.”

Fuck. What do you say? Should you meet him?

You jump when everyone starts packing up. You follow suit, ignoring the way James’s eyes are roaming around the room.

You ignore his gaze as you make your way out of the classroom. It’s only when you’re in potions class that you look at your arms again. “Do you want to meet?”

You decide to answer truthfully, “I’ve heard things about you. I’m not sure I like you.” Was that rude?

“Maybe you should meet me before assuming things about me.”

“Astronomy tower. 10pm”

“See you then, Love.”

You don’t look at your arm for the rest of the day. Only when you're sneaking through Hogwarts and making your way to the tower do you let yourself be nervous.

I’m about to meet my soulmate, you think, James Potter is my soulmate.

You pause at the sight of James pacing the tower, hands wringing together. You don’t let yourself think, walking through the door and making yourself known.

His head whips around, eyes widening at the sight of you standing there.

“You.” He whispers, eyes roaming your face.

“Me,” You whisper back, letting your eyes trace his face. He really is beautiful.

“I sure hit the jackpot,” He says playfully and you smile, cheeks flushed, “What bad things have you heard about me?” He asks, slowly stalking closer.

“Things,” You mutter, running your fingers across the balcony edge, “Like your ego is huge and you’re a dick.”

His eyebrows raise, “My ego is huge but I wouldn’t call myself a dick.” He stalks even closer, your bodies almost touching.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” You state and he nods his head in agreement.

“How about a date? On Saturday near the lake.” You pretend to think for a moment, though your mind is already made up.

“You have one chance, Potter. One chance to prove yourself to me.”

His eyes narrow playfully, head moving closer, “What about you, L/N? I’ve heard things about you too.”

You laugh, “Like what?”

He smiles, “Like you read too much.”

You scoff, “Forgive me for my sins.”

“I will on our date.”

Your eyes narrow, his forehead touching yours, “Deal.”

#james potter #james potter imagines #james potter soulmate au #soulmate au #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter scenario #soulmates #fic #fanfiction #harry potter

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dc418writes · 3 months

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✨Pairing✨: softdark!assassin!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: the mysterious man in the corner booth is gonna make you wish you stayed home

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!!, language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of adult happy fun times, allusion to reader being held against her will (so dubcon..?? Ish??? 🤷🏽‍♀️)

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to the @secretswiftymarvelfan I Love You 3000 Writing Bonanza✨! Congrats again on 3000 followers👏🏾👏🏾!! I hope you - and everyone else who reads - like what I put together!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

AU: assassin, Trope: one night only, Dialogue: “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want”

Taking a deep breath, you stand smoothing your white tennis skirt down against your thighs before making your way to the ridiculously handsome man your friends pushed you into talking to.

“Girl take a chance for once!”

“I-I don’t want to bother him. Plus I’m sure he already has someone,” you replied nervously holding your hands in your lap. From your quick glances his way, he seemed unimpressed with everything - and potentially everyone - around. Content and enjoying his solace.

“Well you won’t know unless you ask,” your other friend countered in a sing-song manner fluttering her newest lash extensions.

Now here you were nearly to the corner booth in the dimmest part of the bar with your fruity cocktail in hand as your pink, strappy heels tapped against the floor. The stranger’s eyes locked with yours as he sips his own glass tumbler half filled with a brown liquid. How his tongue peeks out to collect the small droplets left, paired with the corner of his mouth tilting in the slightest smirk, leaves an involuntary flutter in your lower abdomen that carries down into your core.

Your cheeks - and overall body - warm as you finally reach your destination. “H-Hi.”

He gently bows his shaved head, “Hello.”

“Sorry to bother you. M-My friends and I made this pact to try new things this year and mine is to walk up to a guy I’m attracted to since I don’t really do that so here I am…”

“I’m not surprised.” You feel your mood fall at his words and embarrassment swell in your chest. How foolish of you to think you could do this? That you had an ounce of sex appeal or confidence like those other girls you saw easily able to grab any man they wanted. It’s exactly why you stayed to yourself. Your ultimate fear of rejection keeping you rooted in your seat or at home.

“O-Oh?,” is all you can muster feeling even more stupid that you didn’t even have a solid retort.

“As gorgeous as you are, I’m sure you always have men coming up to you. No need for you to do any work,” he explains making a shy smile spread along your glossy lips and relief soothe the uneasiness of your stomach. He extends his hand to the seat next to him motioning for you to join him, which you gladly take with a quiet “thank you.”

“Truthfully, it’s my friends that get all the attention. Guys usually just walk past me to get to them.”

“Nothing against your friends, but sounds like those boys were idiots,” he firmly states before taking a last pull of his drink to finish it. The tic in his jaw as if he’s bothered by those other men even though he doesn’t know them. As if he’s annoyed at just their mere mention. “Then again, should probably thank em for allowing us to meet huh?”

At that, you seem to lose your train of thought immediately letting your eyes fall to your lap again so giddy from his words. A brief silence falls over your table, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. Finally peeking up again, his ocean eyes - and overall expression - turn a bit softer, which doesn’t help the butterflies erupting in what feels like your whole body.

“Shit, sweetheart you got me forgetting my manners. Curtis,” he introduces in a deep drawl that sends tingles up your spine. Holding his hand out, you notice intricate, black ink along the back of his hand and knuckles - in a design you can’t exactly make out - that looks to extend all the way up his arm covered by his black long sleeve shirt. You feel guilty for it, but you let your mind wander to how far it exactly goes. To his solid chest? His, probably, perfectly sculpted back maybe? Across his firm pecs and down to his abs you could visibly make out through his shirt?

The longer your mind imagined, the more that itch to find out grew stronger. And when you placed your hand in his - noting just how much larger it was than yours, not to mention stronger - you knew you were done for.

“Y/N.”

•

It’s pitch black when you finally awake to the quiet room. The side of your face pressed into the vanilla bourbon scented pillow below you - the same one Curtis had you drooling, moaning, and pleading in majority of the night.

The way he wrung your body exhausted pulling orgasms one after the other - you honestly couldn’t remember the exact number from your brain turning into mush after the second - you’d think he created you. Molded you with his own hands and knew just where he hid that special spot inside you. Then again, maybe it was just from you being..well..out of commission for some time.

Slightly lifting your head, you finally notice you’re lying by yourself in his king sized bed. The sheets pulled up to cover your back and keep you warm.

Additionally, just how quiet it is around you as if you’re the only one there period.

“C-Curtis?,” you hoarsely call out hoping he just journeyed to the kitchen or even another room for a call. Having a house so extravagant, clearly he had to do something highly important that took most of his time.

But you’re met with silence, causing the once tired smile along your lips to falter.

You thought he really liked you. That he would’ve wanted to see you again sometime and maybe grow into something more. “That’s why they call it one night stand,” you mumble to yourself feeling the crack in your heart spread bit by bit as you slide from under the warm covers to collect your things.

It seems like your stomach becomes queasy again with every piece of clothing you put on; making you study your earlier conversation trying to discover any missed signs or warnings. Of course you still didn’t see any, only making you feel foolish and ashamed all over again.

Heels clacking and echoing throughout the home, you’re too busy reserving an Uber on your phone to notice Curtis standing in front of the main door until you nearly run into him. A startled scream pushing from your lungs as one hand lands on your chest and the other drops your phone to the hardwood floor.

With his black top and black pants, he looked as if he’d been in combat having hand guns hanging from the harness strapped across his upper body. Black gloves covering his hands, and red dots splattered along his face match the dripping streaks on his top that are undoubtedly blood.

His expression, hard and stoic, causes an increase in your heart rate now nervous and confused as to what happened to his overall state let alone the change in his mood.

“What happened to you?,” you quietly ask.

“Nothing you need to worry about. And that’s also the first and last time you ask about my business, got it?” His harsher tone has you slightly flinching; taking a step back as you gently nod your head.

“I-I’m sorry..I didn’t mean-,”

“Pretty sure I left you asleep,” he retorts removing his gloves.

“I was looking for you a-and I saw you were gone,” you stammer wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought-,”

“That this was over? Oh sweetheart you’re too cute.” His words should have you jumping for joy and excited, but his deep chuckle - more menacing than comforting - causes an unwelcome sinking in your gut.

One swift stride forward with his long legs, and Curtis catches your chin in his hand pressing his fingers into your cheeks hard enough to make your plump lips pout and a surprised whimper to leave your heaving chest. You had no choice but to face those blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place; only worsening your nerves.

“I’ll let you know now I’m hard to get rid of,” he whispers ghosting his lips over yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. Who I want.”

You remain quiet - as if you could even try to fight - letting his grip loosen until his fingertips drag from the side of your neck to your collarbone making you shiver. Your body still somehow willing to give in to this man who surely was more dangerous than you could imagine.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna get out these clothes and you’re gonna help me clean up in the shower. I’ll put you back to sleep then order breakfast for us in the morning, where you’ll rightly apologize for trying to leave in whatever way I see fit until our food arrives. Understand button?”

You need to fight. Any logical person would scream and shout to the heavens punching and kicking past the point of exhaustion in this situation. Yet you were stuck. Partially from fear of not knowing what Curtis was truly capable of, and partially from your greedy core loving that idea. You could feel the light throb and arousal begin to leak from you making your thighs clinch.

Of course he notices too from the smug smirk on his lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly answer.

“Good girl.”

Who would’ve thought your first - well almost - one night stand would be your last?

#niamh loves you 3000 #curtis everett #curtis everett au #curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett x black!reader #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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causeilikelix · 9 months

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Inked - Yang Jeongin Smut

↳Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yang Jeongin x afab reader

↳Words: 6.5k READ on my AO3 HERE

↳Warnings: SMUT, oral (f. receiving), reader gets a tattoo so mentions of needles and some blood but not in a sexual sense, softdom!Jeongin, suggestive, not full sex,

↳Summery: Starting at the age of 21, the search for your soulmate begins. Once you find them, you know by first touch. At that very first touch the intense carnal urge to consummate the union overwhelms you. You don't expect to find your soulmate in the man you chose to do your very first tattoo. And he, well, he wasn't expecting to stay after closing time but the second he sees you he can't complain.

↳Taglist: @letsmpuppy, @siewoon, @magical-butterflies, @ohmy-moonlightx, @junebug032, @giyusatorou, @skzfelixlove, @kittkat44, @nap-of-a-starr, @ventitto, @blankdyean, @lethallyprotected, @poisonivy21, @nobody3210, @chuuswifereal, @hisokasimp1

↳Notes: The first installment of my soulmate smut au series! Enjoy.

“THANKS, MAN, I really like it! You do great work!” The man thanked Jeongin with a strong handshake that made the glossy new motorcycle tattoo on his bicep flex.

“Anytime.” Jeongin flashed him a smile that dented one of the dimples in his cheeks.

“Let me know when your books open again, okay? I already have ideas for my next one!” The man handed Jeongin a wad of cash. He quickly counted it out and thanked the man for the generous tip before sending him on his way.

Once the man left the small shop, Jeongin sat down hard on his stool and let out a colossal yawn. The time on the clock indicated that it was well past closing time but he had to finish up the piece he was working on. Now all he had to do was clean up his space and disinfect his tools and he could go home and pass out. As the only person in his small studio, he could set his own hours but he still had to do enough pieces a week to keep the lights on.

It also meant that he didn’t have time to finish the sleeve on his arm that he was working on. When he wore an athletic tank top like he was today, you could see swirling patterns of ink starting at his shoulder and down to his elbow. He had a few tattoos on his other hand and forearm but not one single sleeve. It was only a matter of time but he barely had any to speak of.

Speaking of time, he had to get cleaned up.

Jeongin rose to his aching feet and started to disinfect the chair where his clients sat. He wiped it down thoroughly and made sure to get a few dried droplets of ink and blood off the seat. Tattooing was messy work, to say the least.

Next he gathered all of his tools and threw them into a warm bath of disinfectant. While those soaked, he figured he should mop so he wouldn’t have to suffer doing it last. He made his way to the back to prepare the mop water when he heard the bell over the door jingle. He cringed, realizing that he had forgotten the most important thing about closing the tattoo parlor. He’d forgotten to actually flip the sign and lock the door.

Damn.

Jeongin turned around and headed back into the main shop. He ran his hands through his mussed hair and sighed. He didn’t want to deal with asking whoever it was to leave but he had to sleep sometimes.

“I’m sorry, but I’m actually closed up for the day and-” Jeongin started to explain but he stopped dead in his tracks when he laid his eyes on you.

You stood in the entryway to the shop with your wide eyes taking in the art examples hung all over the shop walls. You gripped the strap of your small bag so tightly that your knuckles were about to turn white. You were wearing the world's cutest little white pleated skirt that hugged your curves and your thighs and that stopped mid-thigh, a blush pink blouse, and a cream and pink patterned button-up sweater that brought the whole look together. A soft blush adorned your cheeks.

The skirt hugged your thighs beautifully, accentuating your legs and making them look long. The blouse cupped your full breasts tenderly and let just a bit poke out through the top. They heaved when you drew breath and his eyes flicked down to them without even thinking about it. Your arms hugged your body a little bit, perhaps for warmth or maybe just to calm your trembling nerves. This action helped push your breasts up a little more. Your makeup was lightly done with soft pinks and creams while your lip tint was a stunning cherry red.

Jeongin just about broke.

How did someone as sweet as you end up in a place like this?

“How can I help you?” Jeongin asked instead. He could stay open a little longer.

“Oh, um… I’m sorry, if you’re closed then I’ll just-” You made a move as if you were going to leave, but Jeongin couldn’t let you. Not yet.

“No, I’m not closed yet! Is there something I can do for you?” Jeongin smiled warmly at you, which he hoped would entice you to stay. He had so many questions.

“I… well…”

You eyed him up and down, your mouth watering slightly at the sight of him in tight black skinny jeans and a workout top that left relatively little to the imagination. His black hair was in a fluffy black mop that covered his eyes a little, but it was parted just enough to show off his eyebrow piercing.

“I want a tattoo.” Your voice came out stronger than you expected it to.

“A tattoo? Of what?” Jeongin’s gaze raked down your body, wondering just what you wanted to put where on your pristine, untouched skin. He could already imagine all of the artwork he wanted to put onto your body.

He inched his way closer to you, akin to the way a tiger stalks its prey. His slender fox-like eyes raked over you and you let out a small gasp as if he was actually touching you. Rather than shrinking back, like most prey would, you shifted half a step closer.

You had no idea why you were drawn to his shop in the first place. You had other options lined up in case this one didn’t work out, but his style called to you somehow. When you first laid eyes on him, it was like it made sense for his art to belong to him. You couldn’t explain why you wanted to be close to him, but your body ached for him to be near.

“Oh, um…” you fumbled in your bag for your phone to present him with the picture. You’d worked hard to pick something out that would be simple and beautiful, even though it was a stark contrast from the artwork on the walls.

To say the least, you had no idea why someone would want to tattoo a naked woman on themselves but she certainly was artfully done.

“I was hoping for something simple like…” You pulled up the picture and tilted the screen so he could see it. Jeongin tore his eyes away from your face to your phone screen, which displayed a simple flower design that included some simple geometric shapes all interwoven through a crescent moon. “The, um, the flower is a violet. It’s my mother’s birth flower, so…”

You stumbled over your words a little and cursed yourself silently for getting so flustered. Your ears burned and you wondered if it was hot in here or if it was just him.

Jeongin smirked as he took in your form and he couldn’t help himself. To hell with the hours. The design was simple enough and shouldn’t take long anyway. Besides, he had to figure out why a young and innocent girl would come to a place like this.

“Looks great. What’s your budget?” Jeongin should have cared, but he didn’t.

“Oh, um… I want to stay under two-hundred, if that’s okay.”

“I can do it for a flat hundred. Sound good?” He grinned and tilted his head at you, reminding you of a young puppy or an eager schoolboy. The muscles in his shoulders and arms were an obvious reminder that he was neither.

“Um, yeah. Perfect. We can schedule a time or-”

“Wanna get started now? I gotta finish cleaning my equipment but we can do it now if you want.”

“Now?” You gaped at him, “Like… right this second?”

“Don’t you want it? I mean, my schedule is pretty full at the moment and I don’t think I’ll have an opening for another month or two unless there’s a cancellation. I have time right now, so do you wanna go for it?”

“Oh, um, if you’re busy then don’t worry about it! I can come back another time or ask through the proper channels or-”

“Nonsense. If you’ve thought about it long enough and you’re sure then let’s go for it, yeah?”

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

Jeongin nodded towards your phone again, signaling for you to show him the image once more. He hummed thoughtfully for a few minutes as he thought about how he could possibly draw out the visit.

Jeongin didn’t have a soulmate yet, but he figured to hell with it. Surely that was something made up by the media to get them to sell romcoms. Sure, he wondered if the draw he had to you was due to that but he’d been drawn to other people before without the carnal urge to fuck them into the next century.

Maybe he was just curious. He wondered if the small bit of cleavage that peeked out of your top was on purpose to entice him or just a happy accident. Either way, he loved it.

“Forty-five minutes tops. An hour if you want me to be particular about the shading.” Jeongin shrugged.

“Oh… okay, let’s do it!” You nodded confidently and the small amount of innocent enthusiasm you displayed went straight to his dick.

“Great. Why don’t you email that image to me so I can make a trace of it and fill out my liability agreement while I finish cleaning the equipment.” Jeongin made his way over to the desk near the front to grab his drawing tablet and an extra one for you.

“Okay!”

You obediently followed his instructions and emailed the picture to the address he gave you. He prepped the small tablet with the paperwork and set it on the counter for you. He didn’t dare touch you yet. The suspense would kill him at this rate.

“Have a seat in the chair and I’ll be ready with the stencil in about fifteen minutes, okay?” Jeongin gestured for you to sit in the navy leather chair to wait for him.

You followed his suggestion and got settled. Jeongin stared down at the email from you on his tablet, taking particular interest in the signature at the bottom. It was clearly automatic but it gave your name and your contact information, including your cell phone number. He made a mental note to ask for it later. He didn’t wanna use it without your permission, but he also wanted to ask you out properly so he’d have to ask you for it.

He couldn’t be the only one feeling the attraction, right?

As he worked on cleaning off his equipment, he couldn’t help but think back to your precious pink cheeks and your perfect thighs which he was about to mark as his own. Something about the idea of him leaving something on your skin forever made his jeans grow a little tighter. Sure, he wanted to leave so many hickies and bite marks that you couldn’t wear shorts for a month, but those would fade with time. The ink that he was about to put on your skin would be there forever. Even if you didn’t end up being his soulmate, you’d always have something of his to remember him by.

Once his tools were clean, Jeongin got to work on drawing your tattoo. He doodled on his tablet to make sure that the lines were clean and that he had some room for error if need be. He was good at his job and he hadn’t made a mistake in many years, but it was still important to have a failsafe. Also, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to concentrate when he finally got to be close to your thighs.

For a moment, he considered handing you off to another tattoo shop. Maybe his attraction to you would cloud his judgment. However, when you set the tablet down and settled back in the chair, he knew it was way too late.

“Alright, one more decision to make,” Jeongin made his way back over to you and plopped down on a nearby rolling stool. He moved a little closer, but not close enough to where your knees would brush.

“What’s that?”

“How big do you want it? The smallest I could do would be about…” he lifted his hands to demonstrate, “this but I can go as big as you want.”

“Oh, um,” you glanced down at your thigh and he followed your gaze. He licked his lips at the sight of your legs on full display for him. All he wanted was to be squeezed between them as he rode you through your umteenth orgasm of the night. Something about that damn skirt drove him crazy. “About the size you have there is okay.”

“Perfect, I’ll print out the stencil and we’ll be good to go!”

Jeongin stood up and made a beeline for the counter at the front of the store. He began the printing process and in the meantime he went to the front door and flipped the sign to “closed.” White he was at it, he also shut off the neon sign in the window. He thought about locking the door but figured that you would feel safer with it unlocked.

You, however, would have been okay with anything.

From the moment you stepped into the shop, it was like lightning struck you to your place. As soon as you laid eyes on him you knew that you’d come to the right place. First of all, his work was immaculate. His style was exactly what you were looking for. However as soon as you saw the artist himself, it was as if you were glued to the ground. He was positively, show stoppingly gorgeous. He spoke with a slight Busan accent, which you found incredibly endearing. His face was boyishly cute but his entire demeanor made up for that. He looked as if he wanted to eat you alive and you would probably let him.

You’d be the first to say you weren’t the most innocent person in the world. Many people only ever slept with their soulmates, but not you. You didn’t have a soulmate, but you still felt sexual urges on occasion. You’d only slept with a couple of people, but even at the time both of you knew that it wasn’t right. The sex was nice, but it wasn’t soulmate sex. According to your best friend, who’d somehow lucked out and found her soulmate the day she turned 21, soulmate sex was unmatched.

You could only hope that was true.

Watching Jeongin walk around the shop was torture. His skin practically glowed in the dim lights of the shop and the fluorescent lights from the signs on the window. His muscles flexed as he worked on the stencil and your mouth watered at the sight. How had you landed the hottest tattoo artist in the city on the first try?

Before you’d settled on his shop, you’d followed a bunch of different tattoo shops in order to gauge the different styles. You’d looked for months to try and decide which artist would be the best. That being said, the moment you came across Jeongin’s Instagram, you knew immediately that you loved his style.

However, now you were liking something else about him entirely.

Jeongin strode over to you with the stencil in hand. He shot you a boyish smile that somehow looked sinful coming from him.

“Where do you want it?” He asked.

Using one foot, he pulled up a rolling stool right next to the tattooing chair and he plopped down right next to her. He held the stencil between his thumbs and forefingers, waiting for her to give him instruction.

“Oh, right here.” You lifted the hem of your skirt slightly and Jeongin’s eyes greedily followed the motion. You used two hands to show him where you wanted it to be.

Then came the moment of truth.

Was this incredible man your soulmate? Or was he destined to just be your tattoo artist?

Jeongin leaned in closer and carefully lined up the stencil with where you wanted it. Slowly, he lowered his hands towards your skin. He glanced up at you as if to ask if you wanted him to touch you. Your skin practically ached for his touch and you involuntarily lifted your leg to be closer. Even if Jeongin wasn’t your soulmate, you knew there was something between you.

The back of his knuckle grazed your thigh.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, your core throbbed. Hard.

It was him. This man was your soulmate.

Jeongin’s hands wavered but he slowly pressed the stencil onto your skin and carefully smoothed it out. The pads of his fingers ran across the skin of your thigh, slowly mapping out the smoothness of your skin. He bit back a gasp as his jeans tightened. Both of his palms rested on your thigh now, under the guise of smoothing down the stencil but he knew better.

Arousal licked up his spine and turned his ears bright red. His cock strained desperately in his underwear, begging him to push it into the space between your legs. The veins in his hands twitched as he gripped your thigh. He bit down on his tongue to keep from shoving you down on the chair and taking you right that very second. He just knew that you would feel perfect. However, he had to be professional.

As gently as he could, Jeongin pulled the stencil back to reveal the rich purple ink staining your skin. He stared at the design on your leg for a few long seconds before forcing himself to look up at you and he about came in his pants.

You stared down at him with hooded eyes and blown out pupils. Your glossy lips were parted as they eyed him up. The arousal between your legs pulsed in waves. You squeezed your knees together in an effort to keep some dignity. After your shower this morning, you’d gotten dressed in a rush and forgot one of the most important articles of clothing. The one that was the barrier between you and the outside world. The one that should be between you and the man, your soulmate, who was about to tattoo your skin.

Moments too late, you realized you’d neglected to put on panties.

The space between your legs began to feel sticky. Jeongin made no move to look away from you.

“Is the placement okay?” Jeongin’s voice sounded strained but he still managed to hold eye contact. Your eyes flicked down to the ink once more. It looked fine to you, so you nodded. Jeongin smirked. “Come on, darling, use your words.”

“Yes, it’s great.” You blurted. The space between your bodies was too vast. In reality it was maybe two feet but in your mind it was like there were football fields between you.

“Come on, you have to really look at it. After all, it’s going to be on your skin forever.” Jeongin cocked his head at you.

Surely he was feeling the same brutal arousal as you, right? Surely he understood what that meant, right? You wanted to scream at him.

WE’RE SOULMATES! FUCK ME ALREADY!

But his gaze left you glued to his seat. Suddenly, you were ready to follow orders.

You tore your gaze away from his to look down at your thigh. The purple ink stained your skin in a bold preview of the tattoo you wanted. The placement genuinely looked okay to you. After probably the longest five seconds of your life, you looked back up.

“It looks great. Let’s do it.”

“Awesome, ready to get started?”

You stared at him for a few seconds, willing your throat to cooperate.

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

“What’s your name?” You blurted. You knew him solely by his Instagram handle, which was his shop name but you couldn’t remember your own soulmate's name. He only grinned.

“Jeongin. And yours?”

“Y/N.”

“What a beautiful name, Y/N.” Jeongin moved away from you just long enough to put on some blue latex gloves and some other supplies. “Since this is your first tattoo I’m going to just do one of the smaller stars first. If you don’t think you’re up for it after that, we can stop there, no judgment.”

“Okay.” Your voice shook and you wondered just how he was staying so composed.

On the contrary, Jeongin was so painfully hard that he was worried he’d cum if he moved the wrong way and applied just the right amount of friction.

However, he shifted in his seat and prepared the tattoo gun. He put on a pair of rubber gloves and leaned over your thigh. He swallowed heavily before he placed his palm on your upper thigh. As gently as he could, he placed the tip of the gun against the outline of one of the smaller stars on the design. You winced when the needle began to do it’s thing, but didn’t stop him. He gently traced the first small line of the tattoo before pulling away.

“How was that?” Jeongin asked you, but he couldn’t look at you in case his voice would quiver.

“Stings but… I can take it.” You chose your words carefully. Jeongin tensed.

“You can take it, huh?” Jeongin’s grip on your thigh tightened. Your core clenched around nothing.

With that, Jeongin got right back to work. He traced the pattern with his tattoo gun as slowly as possible. Partially to draw out the visit but also to give you room if you needed to twitch or adjust. Getting a tattoo for the first time was no joke, and while he wanted you to sit in his chair as long as possible, he also wanted your first tattoo experience to be as minimally traumatic as possible. He had to remain as professional as humanly possible.

However, that’s when he smelled it.

Or to be more accurate, that’s when he smelled you.

It was as if his sense of smell was heightened with his arousal, or maybe it was because your arousal was so strong. Either way, when you shifted in your seat he got a strong whiff of it and if anything it made him harder. The scent was so rich and sweet and it took everything in him not to part your legs and stick his face between them.

His large palm squeezed your thigh gently, and in response you squeezed your thighs together. With the realization that you were getting wetter and wetter with each passing second, you were determined to keep your legs locked shut so Jeongin couldn’t sense your arousal, but he had other plans.

“Relax your thighs a little, darling,” his tantalizing voice shot up your spine, “I can’t tattoo if you’re all tensed up.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” You blurted suddenly. He blinked in surprise at you and your face flushed with embarrassment. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong.

“Talk about what? Your tattoo? I’ve already started but we can certainly-”

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t feel anything right now?”

Jeongin’s shocked expression slowly melted into a smirk. He squeezed your thigh tightly and pulled your leg towards him. Your legs parted and exposed you to the chilly air of the tattoo shop. The cold air licked up your core and you shivered.

“Keep your pretty legs open for me while I mark you and maybe I’ll give you what I want,” Jeongin challenged as if his dick wasn’t throbbing in his underwear.

“I- what?” Your face flushed with embarrassment at the idea of being exposed to him, but at the same time you had a feeling that if you closed your legs he wouldn’t give you what you wanted.

Jeongin got back to work. One hand gently massaged your thigh when he wasn’t wiping away excess ink. The tattoo gun stung as he traced the design, but you could barely feel it over the wet throbbing in your core. You were positive that the inside of your thighs and the chair beneath you were doused in your slick. You tried desperately to appear normal but you needed him inside you, like, yesterday.

It became increasingly clear that Jeongin knew exactly what was going on. The more you watched him, the more you should see him shifting in his seat to try and conceal the massive bulge in his jeans. Deciding to test the waters a little bit, you spread your knees apart a little more.

Jeongin had to pause and take a deep breath to keep himself composed. The scent of your arousal was driving him absolutely mad and he was ready to get rid of the idea of having your tattoo take as long as possible. Now he wanted it done as soon as possible so he could put his fingers inside you and let your taste coat his mouth. He wanted to drink you up until you were shaking.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby,” Jeongin praised once he was halfway done. He wiped the tattoo with a damp paper towel to get rid of some of the excess ink. Your thigh was a little swollen but that was to be expected. Your skirt fell delicately just enough to cover your core from him.

“So you do know who I am?” Your voice came out strained. The more he touched you the more turned on you got. You wondered if the entire shop smelled of your pussy.

“Of course I do, angel. I knew it from the second you walked in here. Do you need a break?” Jeongin cocked his head innocently once more.

“N-no. I want you to be done soon.”

“Why’s that, Y/N baby?”

Yeah, you were done for. Any and all proprietary got thrown out the window.

“I need you inside me immediately.” You couldn’t believe you’d just spoken that way to a stranger, but your pussy wanted what it wanted.

“Then I’d better get back to work, huh? I’m eager to see what’s mine.”

With that, Jeongin went back to it. The sting of the needle and the blood didn’t bother you. You had no idea how you could still be so wet while being in that kind of pain. You didn’t think you were a masochist, but something about Jeongin made it seem normal.

You wanted to cry and beg for him to fuck you already, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t if you acted desperate.

Instead you let out a pathetic whimper when a particularly empty clench made you shiver. Jeongin paused and raised an eyebrow in question but you nodded to assure him that you were okay. The tattoo wasn’t causing you any pain at this point. The ache between your legs rivaled any and all pain you’d experienced thus far.

The only sounds in the shop were the buzzing of the tattoo gun and your heavy breathing as you tried to get your arousal under control. You had a feeling you’d cum the moment he finally touched you. If he finally touched you.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Keep your legs open, I want the chair to be soaking before I even give you my tongue.” You shivered. “Oh, you’d like that, huh? I bet you’ll taste even better than you smell. Your pussy is already crying for me.”

“Are you almost done?” You asked and Jeongin tsked at you and pulled the tattoo gun away from your skin to wipe at the raw tattoo.

“You’re so impatient. Do I need to teach you the rules?”

“Wh-what are the rules?”

“The rules are that you sit still, legs open, and you don’t touch yourself. When I’m done and if you’re good, maybe then I’ll give you my fingers, got it? And I am going to take as long as I want to get this pretty tattoo done for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Already so obedient,” Jeongin smirked, but dropped the facade for a moment to reassure you, “If you need a break just tell me, okay? Tattooing can be hard.”

“Got it.” You nodded, letting him know that he could get started again. You were glad that, despite the dominance he was showing, he would give you a break if you wanted.

However, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t need one. From your perspective, it looked to be almost finished but you weren’t the artist. You had no way of knowing when he would be done. Especially since it was explicitly clear to you now that he wanted to take his sweet time with you.

A particularly sharp stab of the needle made you wince but you didn’t tap out. At this point you needed literally any kind of friction to soothe the pounding in your core. You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy. Your parted legs were a window into you and your smell overpowered the tiny shop.

You thought this couldn’t get any worse. That was, until Jeongin started speaking. His voice sounded sweet and boyish but his words were anything but.

“Baby, you smell absolutely divine. I can’t wait to shove my tongue into you and drink up your sweetness. I can’t wait to see your sweet, tight pussy. I need to be inside you so bad but I gotta make you feel good first. Baby, you’re mine forever.” You clenched at this, hard. Jeongin smirked at this. “You like that, my love? You like the idea of being mine forever? Angel, your little pussy is mine.”

You were reduced to a whining, whimpering mess at his words. You wanted to slip your fingers beneath your skirt and through your folds. You figured that even the smallest touch would send you over the edge. The desire and need you had for him was going to drive you crazy.

“Please,” you begged and Jeongin smirked.

“Please, what, my love?”

“Please touch me or let me touch myself. I need it.”

“You need it? Sounds desperate. Are you desperate for me?”

“Yes! I’m so desperate for you! I need your fingers! I need your tongue. I need your cock, please!”

Your hand slipped down to grab the hem of your skirt. The tips of your fingers grazed your soaking folds and you moaned on contact. Rules be damned, you needed relief and you needed it now. The tip of your finger prodded your swollen hole.

“What did I say?” Jeongin pushed your hand away, “The tattoo is almost done. Be patient or your slutty little hole gets nothing. Do you even know what your body is craving so badly? Have you ever had anyone else in you before?”

“No! I swear, no one else has ever touched me. But… I know what I want.” Your eyes darted to the tent in his pants and your mouth watered. Jeongin smirked.

“Perfect. Then you’re all mine to ruin.”

A shiver ripped down your spine at his words.

After what felt like an eternity, the buzzing of the tattoo needle stopped. Jeongin wiped the tattoo a few more times, cleaned it, then applied a thin plastic protective film over it. Every single touch of his hands on you made your body ache for more. At this rate, you wondered if people could die from lack of touch.

Once the film was applied, Jeongin tore his gloves off and raced to wash his hands. He sat back on his stool almost before you’d realized he was gone.

“I’d go over tattoo aftercare but I can barely think right now,” Jeongin admitted, swinging the stool around so he was sitting directly in front of you, “Y/N, baby, tell me this is okay. I want you so badly but I won’t do anything if you say no.”

“If you don’t touch me right this instant, I’ll die.” Your declaration made him chuckle.

Then, his hands were on you. Without the gloves, the feeling of his skin on yours was borderline orgasmic. His veiny hands grabbed your knees tightly and pressed down, forcing your legs open even more. His gaze dropped from your eyes, down your body, to the hollow space between your legs. It was barely covered by the thin material of your skirt but it was still like he was exposing you to the world.

His hands moved up your legs, massaging your thighs along the way with deep presses and firm squeezes. His eyes darkened the moment his nimble fingers flipped up your skirt and revealed your glistening core to him.

“Y/N, baby, you’re so wet I think I’ll drown.” Jeongin’s voice dropped an octave. You could only whine and lift your hips up a little to entice him closer.

“Jeongin, please, please touch me.” You begged shamelessly. He smirked at your neediness.

“Next time I’ll punish you for being needy, but this time I’ll reward you for being so patient while you got that tattoo.”

Jeongin’s hands landed on your inner thighs. He slowly moved his hands closer, rubbing small circles as he inched closer to where you needed him the most. Then, his fingertips grazed against your swollen hole and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He circled upwards until he found your clit. He knew he found it when you gasped and your knees opened a little bit more. The second his finger made contact with your clit, intense sparks of pleasure shot through your veins.

He rubbed in tantalizingly slow circles and you had half a mind to knock his hand out of the way to get off yourself. You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy with how badly you needed him.

Finally he moved his hand back down to your entrance and prodded it with his index finger. He smirked when you moaned and pushed your hips up. Then, he finally pushed his long digit into you and your core clenched onto him hard.

“Oh baby, does that feel good? You like it when I finger you?” Jeongin cooed and he pressed a second finger into your dripping cunt, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you could register his words, Jeongin was shifting. He pressed his free hand to the inside of your knee for stability as he leaned down and latched his mouth onto your glistening folds. He sucked you into his mouth, slurping on your juices and moaning at the taste. His lips latched onto your clit and sucked.

You could feel his smirk against you as you moaned freely. He played and pleasured your cunt as if he’d been doing it all his life. He curled his fingers within you just the right amount as he searched for the gummy spot inside of you. It didn’t take him long before the pad of his finger pressed into it and you let out a sob.

“Please, please, please,” you begged, though your brain was too clouded to remember what you were begging for.

Jeongin lifted his head from your cunt to chide you, “Aw, baby, are you already drunk on my fingers? I haven’t even given you my cock yet. What do you want, angel?”

“Cu- cu, I wanna,” you lifted your hips a little to entice him back to your center. Jeongin leaned down to lap gently at your clit and you moaned at the pleasure that ripped up your spine.

“I want to give you what you want, so just tell me, baby.”

“Cum! I wanna cum!”

“You wanna cum? How?” He tilted his head innocently as if his chin wasn’t dripping in your arousal.

“In your mouth. On your tongue. Please, please!” You cried. Your hand reached up to curl into his hair as you guided him back to your center.

You were sure Jeongin would punish you later for touching him without permission, but right now he needed this as much as you did. Jeongin’s lips latched right back onto your sensitive clit and got right back to work.

He licked and sucked on the sensitive bud like his life depended on it. Jeongin’s eyes slipped closed as he let your taste overwhelm his mouth. Every gush of arousal on his fingers made his dick harder and harder. He was sure he would blow untouched. He removed his fingers from the depths of your core and you started to whine at the loss but he made up for it by immediately shoving his tongue into you and lapping up every single drop of arousal.

The warm, wet muscle inside of you wiggled and sucked at your dripping hole. Jeongin ate you as if he’d never tasted anything so good in his life, and to be honest he probably hadn’t. He wanted to savor every moment between your legs, and as much as he wanted to eat you out until the sun came up, he also needed to cum. Like now. But you had to cum first.

He pressed lightly just above your clit to push the bundle of nerves out a little bit. Once it was exposed to the air, he suffocated it with his lips. He latched on and sucked like his life depended on it. Every suck and every lick got you closer and closer to the edge.

He moaned into your cunt and the vibrations made you shiver. Your core began to clench and spasm around nothing. Almost as if he could tell, he plunged his fingers back into you. The friction of his fingers and the suction of his mouth overwhelmed you but in the best way.

You meant to warn him, you really did, but your orgasm grew and crashed over you before you could even register what was happening. You moaned louder than you had all night and the grip you had on his head tightened. Your cunt clenched and rippled around his fingers and he moaned as he drank up your release. Pleasure pulsed through your body in waves. Your cunt sucked his fingers deeper into you as he worked you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

All of the ones you’d done yourself were nothing compared to how Jeongin made you feel.

Despite the sharp pang of overstimulation, Jeongin kept sucking at your folds and at your hole to get every single taste of your orgasm that he could.

It wasn’t long before the pleasure began to mount again and a second orgasm washed over you as Jeongin tenderly lapped at your cunt. The second orgasm was less intense but it left you empty and craving even more of him.

“Cock,” you announced and he pulled away from your cunt and raised an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“Please, I’m so empty, I need your cock,” you couldn’t believe the bold words that were coming out of your mouth, but Jeongin didn’t hesitate.

“You want my cock? You think you can take it?” Jeongin removed himself from you and sat back. The outline of his thick cock showed right through his tight pants. You salivated at the sight.

“Please,”

“Very well then,” Jeongin rose to his feet and began to undo his belt and the zipper on his pants, “Alright, soulmate, let's have some fun, then.”

One thing was for sure. If your cunt felt even half as good as it tasted, Jeongin would never let you go. Thank goodness for Soulmates.

#skz jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin smut #i.n. smut #skz i.n smut.#soulmate au #stray kids smut #skz smut #tattoo artist au #smut au

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

The True Sea

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: Sturmhond’s mutiny against the Darkling is rescheduled when Mal attacks Aleksander, and you’re forced to make a decision. It’s only as evening arrives that the repercussions sink in for you. (Sun Summoner!Reader - Siege & Storm AU)

My Masterlist

“You are aware there are other people in these quarters that would like a bath before the next century occurs?”

You scoff at the sound of Aleksander’s sarcastic drawl, but it helps you to pull yourself out of the thoughts that had been consuming you. At least he’s giving you something else to focus on.

Somehow Aleksander always knows what you need. Even if you simply need to argue with him, instead of staring into the bath water wondering if you had done the right thing.

The blinding fear you had felt, seeing Mal’s knife at Aleksander’s throat, was like no emotion you’ve ever experienced before.

“Oh be quiet.” You call out from behind the folding screen that acts as a means to preserve your modesty while bathing. “We both know you’re nowhere near done with those maps, and that you won’t put them down until you’re finished.”

You both know that you’re right.

The two of you are quiet again.

You hadn’t spoken much this evening, after the attempted mutiny by Sturmhond’s crew. When Mal had nearly killed Aleksander, and you had been forced to pick a side, using your light to dazzle Mal into releasing Aleksander.

You don’t regret saving Aleksander, but you do mourn for what you’ve lost. A potential ally in Sturmhond, who is now locked behind bars, hidden away in the cells within the bowels of the ship. Your lifelong friendship with Mal, who now sports a split lip from where you’d punched him.

Thumb smoothing over your knuckles, you eye the spot that had made contact with Mal. Aleksander’s healer had dealt with the consequential bruises there, the only thing you feel is a prickle of guilt as you rub a slow circle over the joint.

You hadn’t wanted to hurt Mal, but when you saw the faint redness as his knife had begun to break the skin of Aleksander’s throat, instinct had kicked in. Save the person most important to you, whatever the cost.

Over the last few months you’ve been struggling to decide who it is that means more to you. Mal or Aleksander.

Its only today that you’ve finally realised that it’s Aleksander. It’s always been him. It always will be. Not matter what either one of you do to one another, you will always be each others priority, above all others.

Even from behind the screen, you can feel Aleksander’s eyes on you as the steam swirls above the water you’re submerged in. Over the last week you’ve spent on board the whaler, you’ve learnt that whilst you won’t always see it, Aleksander’s attention is always on you.

A devious idea springs to mind, and you stand up in the bath, droplets of water cascading down your body.

Aleksander’s robe is hanging on the back of a chair, more specifically, the chair next to where he’s sitting at his desk. Dabbing the majority of the moisture from your skin with a soft towel, you drop it onto the floor before you approach him.

He, rather pointedly, doesn’t look up at you. But he doesn’t need to, you know his attention is still on you and not the papers in his hand even as he pretends to focus on the inked words.

Your dewy skin still flushed and damp from the bath. The smell of soap clinging to your body, being drawn into his lungs with every breath.

It’s only once his robe is secured around your body that he turns to meet your eyes. Your voice is quiet, as your fingers curl around the edge of the pages, tugging them lightly from his hand.

“Hurry now, while the water’s still warm.”

He stands, watching the amusement sparkle in your eyes. For a moment you think you have finally achieved some sort of victory against him. You swallow hard as he towers over you, and that thought quickly vanishes.

The two of you aren’t quite the enemies you were this morning. After all, you had betrayed your only friend to save Aleksander’s life. But you’re not the same as you were on the night of the Winter Fete. There’s the same want in his eyes, no doubt a reflection of your own, but you’ve both been hurt by one another.

He saved your life. He deceived you. You ran away. You betrayed him. He betrayed you. You ran away again. Now you had saved his life. Where you back where you started? Or would this be a new beginning?

His fingers brush against the collar of the robe wrapped lightly around your body, pushing the fabric aside to reveal the shadowy scar on your shoulder created by the teeth of one of his creatures.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, as his thumb traces the length of it. The constant pain eases with his touch, and a shiver runs down the length of your spine.

“Sometimes.” You admit in a whisper. Then you reach forward, cupping the side of his face delicately in your hand.

Thumb tracing delicately over his cheekbone, your eyes roam over the scars torn into his skin as you echo his question in a near whisper,

“Does it hurt?”

His eyes flicker closed for a moment, and once they open their depths burn into you as he whispers hoarsely,

“Constantly.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling drabbles #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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aufaits · 1 month

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on introductions.

If we're to start anywhere in this story, perhaps we should start here: a camera shot, tightly held, focused on a a hand scribbling furiously in a notebook. There's little to note regarding the hand: a claudaugh ring on one finger, nails tidly trimmed, cuticles pushed back. The only speck in site are faint droplets of ink dotting the hand in question's fingers.

Let the camera pull up, tracing the tight bent tension of a arm, a beast poised to spring. Note too, the casual blazer, bearing all the marks of a fresh ironing. In the background of the shot lies a bag, only half unpacked, closet hanging open as well. Clothes dot the bed in blobs of color, and a handful of books lie on the desk in riotous lumps. And finally, the camera focuses on the face of the figure— a woman in thought, her forehead pinched, mouth set in a firm line.

Vivien sits in her room, hair pulled back into a meticulous bun, scribbling at her notebook. It was a ritual of sorts, a way of pulling herself back into herself, reminding her of the things that mattered in the here and now. The words themselves are practically illegible, shorthand sentiments of neuroses still at hand— you're capable, okay? also, it's nice to meet new people, you haven't gotten the chance in ages.

And so on and so forth. Finding the ritual done, she tosses the notebook and pen into a tote, flinging it over her shoulder. She had opted for being her polished self today— the blouse and blazer de-wrinkled with the old bathroom trick that had saved her in grad school, earrings in a subtle silver, every bit of her the thing that she knew she could be— that she knew she was.

That thing being a sure and steady gaze, an infinite patience, an eye for balance. Or at least, that was what she hoped to tell the others.

At the coffee shop, she pauses, folds her hands in front of her just so. There's something almost nostalgic about a huddle of people, crowded around a table too small for them. Some of them ping points of recollections— names and faces settling like film on the surface of memory. Others feel like a knife pick— memory blasted into desolation, bile rising in her stomach. She swallows it, forces her smile, holds back her shoulders.

"Hi, you're the rest of the team, right? I'm Vivien Jiāng, previously a Junior Archivist for RAISA at Site-7."

She cuts her teeth on the previously, allows herself to concede how strange it feels. That was then, this is now. A hand curls protectively around the strap of her tote bag, finger idly rubbing against the texture of it, reminding herself to stay grounded.

"But I suppose you should know me as Au Fait. That's my callsign, anyway. It's supposed to mean something about having knowledge."

It feels dangerously close to a lie, what she says (or at least, a lie to her). After all, French courses for the entirety of college meant she knew the meaning, held the detailed knowledge that the name implied. But she couldn't give a lecture. That had gone disastrously the last time she'd tried to talk about that language.

"I worked with maintaining the digital SCP archives and catching discrepancies in them, as well as helping general SCiPNET upkeep and data issues. Think of me as a computer guy who loves excel sheets and the smell of old paper, and you should have a good idea of what my last five or so years looked like."

She glances over at the counter, smile weakening faintly. She'd fully forgotten to have food before this, hadn't she?

"Um— I do want to meet all of you, but do you mind if I grab a coffee first?"

#— be it work or be it rite?#[hiiiii everyone i'm here]

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edensrose · 1 year

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆! 𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒖 ❜࿔

─────── .°୭̥ ✿ˎˊ˗ “ oh darling , the devil's whispers are sweet. . . and its bite is sweeter ’

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ ainur⠀〳 reader⠀ ៸៸ vampire themes ៸៸ blood mention ៸៸ biting, so much biting ៸៸ some violent themes ៸៸ dark fantasy ៸៸ royal aspects ៸៸ victorian esque ៸៸ various other tags to be listed as the au ensues ❜࿔

꒰❀꒱ 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆. 𝒂 𝒎𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅.

· ⊰ synopsis. a world where mysterious, terrible creatures of the night rule over the land from the shadows. mere myth to most yet reality to others, it seems that the latter might become more apparent as there is an uproar in the vampire royal court. this victorian esque story follows the lives of the vampire court, the internal divide between kings, the struggle of scientists fighting for humanity. . . and the war between creatures of twilight and the divine hunters that vow to eradicate them.

· ⊰ notes.

꒰❀꒱ ainur are either vampires or vampire hunter

꒰❀꒱ while it is a victorian-like setting, it is not to be matched with the real-world time

꒰❀꒱ some plots might have dark themes, but that depends on the premise

You step through a dusty, dim lab. Strewn in blotched parchment, painted with crimson soaked into the carpet and wooden desk.

Minding the shattered test beakers and other scientific apparatuses, you find your way to the table that lay across the dishevelled room. A half-melted candle lies abandoned on the side and you strike a match to alleviate the strain on your vision.

Before you lay an open book. Droplets of that same crimson staining the worn-out parchment, coupled with hasty ink on the last pages. You brush the paper, feeling a sense of dignity almost emanating from them as you page to the front. Diagrams, sketches, essays and descriptions - whoever wrote this took great care and observation. You felt their life's work between your very fingertips, their pride and joy.

You read over the title, The Vampire Legendarium, before slipping into the seat and reading the elegant handwriting.

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Entry 0.1

Many think me insane for this research and its findings.

Many call me a lunatic, a crazed fool.

However, I have seen it with my own eyes, what these. . . night demons are capable of. Beings of enhanced speed and strength. A terrifying intellect like no other. They stalk the twilight, but I believe that some may even walk the day. Exceptional hunters by nature, they seek only one goal throughout their frightening existence.

An unrelenting, unquenchable, borderline sadistic craving for human blood.

Perhaps I have lost my sanity whilst documenting what I can, but I only ask that you humour my insanity for but a moment, as I take you into the world:

Of the Vampire.

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Entry 1.

To start my research, I scoured various myths and legends. There had to be some sort of explanation as to why these beings walk among us.

Many tales were found, but there was an occurring story that seemed to stand out amongst the rest. A tale of the sun goddess Anartári and the moon god Isiltar. I will try my best to form a cohesive briefing of this story, as in order to understand one's present standing, you must first dissect their history.

At the onset of creation, Anartári blessed the humans faithful to her with divine prosperity. This ancient race of humans grew to be more advanced than what we have today, in body, mind and spirituality. Records do not name these humans, so it is up to me to name this race,

Eruva; the divine.

Blessed by the sun herself, their splendour reigned throughout the land. The Eruva adored their goddess and made it so that others conformed to her worship as well. The tree of Laurelin became their item of praise, their symbol of loyalty and the essence of their greatness. For whoever ate the fruit and drank its wine was sanctified.

Yet for all their otherworldly knowledge and excellency, they fell victim to the same fate that most mortals do: the folly of man.

Greedy to conquer even death itself, they too went into the field of science and alchemy. Some even branched out, extending to the opposite spectrum. The tree of Telprion on the opposite end of the vast land, the essence of the moon god Isiltar.

And from that tree, coupled with rituals and blood sacrifices, came a result that no man could ever perceive as something divine or holy. . .

Vampires.

Better in every way were these creatures. Different too. And for a time, they were even praised. Exalted. Though something was off about these creatures: they served the moon. Praised and worshipped it. An act that was considered evil amongst the Eruva. Hypocrites.

But the final straw was when the Eruva came to learn that there was a price for immortality. For when these creatures grew hungry, mortal food was not enough to satisfy them.

The land was painted red, and there was nothing to be done.

How can one kill the unkillable?

In their desperation to destroy the object of their own greed, they formed what would come to be known as the Laurëmá.

An elite of hunters tasked with purifying the world of the evil that they created.

I believe that they exist even to this day. With that being said, it is evident that they have not succeeded in their goal. As Vampires still dwell in these cursed lands.

Intricate. That was the only way you could describe these accounts. Your page slides down the width of the sewn-together book and you decide to continue.

Paging through the old parchment, you scan different headings that caught your eye. Detailed, flawless. You might have even considered this to be the handiwork of the aforementioned Eruva. If this was not divine intellect, then what was?

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Entry 3. — Anatomy & Function

While more popular tales and stories depict these beings as walking corpses, my findings show that it could not be further from the truth.

They bleed like man, some cases of house invasion and disguise note that they even eat and sleep much like us humans.

The notion of vampires sleeping in coffins and holding no reflection are plain inaccurate. While they are vastly different to us, their similarities are what allows them to blend in with the average human.

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Entry 3.1 — Bodily Function

With the previous statements above, I would like to note that while they might have the capability of blending in with humans, their abilities are far from what anyone would consider humane.

While I cannot detail the extent of these extremities, the following is a general outline of the known vampire abilities:

- enhanced speed, strength and agility

- advanced senses, including a sixth sense

- night vision

- amplified cell replication, results in a healing factor

Note: it is to be speculated that these advanced qualities of human function are not the only noteworthy abilities. These creatures obtain various mythical-based capabilities. Otherworldly and stemmed from magic.

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Entry 3.5 — Appearance

A common misconception is that vampires are ghostly pale and as such, this is their identifiable characteristic. As stated in my previous entries, vampires walk among us. While it might be virtually impossible to decipher a vampire in disguise, there are a few general characteristics when they are not fooling the human eye.

- taller height

- crimson eyes ( they seem to mask this )

- slitted pupils ( see above )

- large frontal fangs ( addition from entry 6: different shapes for different species )

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Entry 4. — Diet

One of the few conceptions that remain apparent would be the vampire’s diet of human blood. While I do not have enough information regarding the amounts and the duration between feeding periods, my observations show that vampires go through some sort of. . . bloodlust.

The variables of this remain unknown.

Addition from entry 7: studies indicate that the different ranks have a play in the duration between feedings. Purebloods last the longest without blood whilst Halfbloods have the less desirable hunger habits.

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Entry 7. — Ranking

Quite the interesting discovery has been made, with the aid of my brother.

It appears that vampires have their own ranking system, although I would also classify it as a range of subspecies. There are two main tiers of vampirism:

Purebloods and Halfbloods.

The former are born vampires, whilst the latter is a result of a human being turned.

There is a clear distinction between these rankings, most likely in correlation to their strengths, weaknesses and diet.

Thankfully, from what I have deduced, Purebloods are no longer an existing subspecies. A mere myth nowadays.

Perhaps we should praise whatever gods are up there that the strongest of these creatures are dead and gone.

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Entry 7.1 — Subcategories

In my previous entry I concluded that there are different tiers of vampirism. Today I write that upon further investigation, I have discovered that there is a third category.

In regards to Halfblood vampires, they divide one more time into two other sections: High-Rank Halfbloods and Low-Rank Halfbloods.

The first is a result of a human turned into a vampire by a Pureblood, whilst the latter is created when a High-Ranked Halfblood turns a human.

This brings the official ranking, from strongest to weakest, to:

-Purebloods

-High-Rank Halfbloods

-Low-Rank Halfbloods

Taking the previous entry’s findings into consideration, I can safely conclude that there must be a reduced number of High-Rank Halfbloods, if the ones that turn them have gone extinct.

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Entry 11. — Weaknesses

Once again we find that the tales passed down along generations are not entirely true. A common denominator would be garlic, silver or sunlight. However, it is far more complex than what many have come to believe.

My findings have concluded the following results as accurate weaknesses of vampires:

- sunlight

- gold

- wild roses

Further investigations will have to be conducted in order to devise the extent and conditions of these weaknesses. What one can assume is that they have a direct correlation with the rank of vampirism.

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Entry 11.1 — Sunlight

The notion of vampires burning to death in the sun seems to only be half-true. As I have stated countless times, these creatures of the night do walk amongst us. Including throughout the day.

While this was a mind-boggling investigation for the most part, I believe that I have found the answer to this phenomenon.

If a vampire wears a piece of enchanted jewellery, they will be able to walk the day just like you and I. This piece of jewellery is more often than not, a ring. What is often referred to as a daylight ring.

One can assume that without this, they are doomed to the rise of the sun every day, unless they find themselves indoors and away from its searing light.

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Entry 11.2 — Gold

While I have already ruled out the weakness of silver, I was just as surprised to discover that the true weakness of vampires is gold.

It seems that the myth of a silver stake torn through a vampire’s heart immediately kills them is in fact still applicable to gold.

However, the condition of this is that the stake must consist of pure gold. Alloys tend to not do much damage, let alone be considered fatal.

Gold dust may also be utilised to burn the flesh of these creatures.

Entry 7.3 — Wild Roses

If the discovery of gold as a weakness stunned me, then I must say that the notion of one of my brother’s favourite flowers being detrimental to vampires left me speechless.

When roses make contact with a vampire’s skin, particularly the petals, it burns through their flesh.

While not entirely lethal, it is still enough to deter most vampires due to the sheer intensity of the pain that sears into them.

One might speculate that this extends to the essence of roses. Such as rose water, rose-based perfumes and other products.

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Entry 12. — Strengths

Now that I have uncovered the weaknesses, the next course of action would be to investigate the opposite end of the spectrum.

I urge you to freshen up your knowledge of the named strengths that I have listed in entry 3.1, for this section will focus purely on the aforementioned ‘magic-based strengths’. Or rather, supernatural powers.

The following will be explored in depth in the upcoming entries:

- compulsion

- magic and enchantment

- healing saliva

These investigations require further observation. As I am sure you might assume, that will be far from an easy task.

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Entry 12.1 — Compulsion

Compulsion is a supernatural ability that occurs when a vampire looks into the eyes of its victim and commands them to carry out a task. It is unbeknownst to me what they might use this for, but one can only assume that most cases are for sadistic purposes.

When commanded, the victim will be unable to refuse. Even if their mind is strong enough to remain conscious and not enter a dazed-like state.

Additional findings: further investigation concluded that one can combat this ability if they have wild roses on their person. One might even think to wear jewellery infused with this flower in pendants or chains.

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Entry. 12.2 — Magic & Enchantment

This is a rather vague discovery as I have not found enough information regarding this quirk. From what I have been able to gather, the higher ranks of vampires have magical abilities that vary between individuals.

One might speculate that this enchantment is what allows them to create their daylight rings.

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Entry 12.3 — Healing Saliva

It might sound quite bizarre, but vampires have a certain uniqueness to their saliva. However, this is not in regard to their own wounds.

Their saliva acts disinfectant to a wound, however, it causes the wound to bleed longer yet slows down the rate of bleeding so that the victim does not bleed out immediately. . . I can only assume that this is so that these demons can enjoy their ‘meals’ for longer.

Sadists.

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Entry 17. — The Turning Process

Going into this, I assumed that I would not bear witness to such a. . . horrific act, but I suppose that I should not have expected anything less from these night demons.

The process of turning a human into a vampire is far more complicated than a simple bite to the neck.

While this part of my investigation was rather gruelling and. . . nauseating, I have managed to comprise a list of the accurate steps in turning a human into a vampire:

- the human must be bitten and injected with ‘vampire venom’

- the human must consume the vampire’s blood

- the vampire must then. . . kill the human, who will awake as a Halfblood vampire after a day or so

From what I have gathered, the venom induces agonising effects and excruciating pain on the body once injected.

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Entry 20. — Moon Phases

After growing rather curious regarding vampires’ connection with the moon, I decided to dig further into their relationship with the celestial body.

My discoveries uncovered the following: during a new moon, a vampire is at its weakest — regardless of its ranking.

However, there is a flip-side to this as well.

During a full moon, the opposite occurs. Yet in a far more drastic way. Not only do they grow stronger, but their already insatiable bloodlust grows worse.

This reflection of the moon pattern on their behaviour could help counter their attacks if followed with great consideration.

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Entry 26. — Hunters

To garner more information on the creatures of the night, I concluded that one might find out more from those who are possibly in contact with them the most — and live to tell the tale.

I could not uncover much about vampire hunters, but the little knowledge that I have obtained has quite piqued my interest.

As stated in Entry 1, vampire hunters were a result of the Eruva seeking to eradicate the world of their own failure. From them stemmed Laurëmá: the golden hand. An elite group of hunters who took an oath to finish the task — by whatever means necessary.

Some of the more ancient and experienced hunters can be identified by their. . . unique gold markings. While at first I insinuated that this was a result of gold-dust mixed into tattooing ink, I soon discovered that it is far more. . . unhinged, than that.

Considering that these hunters are Eruva, they obtain an increased bodily function. Enhanced speed, strength, agility and endurance. While they are mortal, some live to be hundreds of years old — depending on their meditation practices.

Upon obtaining injuries, particularly during their training years, hunters clean the wound before filling it with gold. To serve not only as a reminder of their cause or their loyalty to the sun, but to create a sort of built-in armour into their own bodies. Seeing as vampires cannot touch gold.

Yet the most intriguing factor about them, in my opinion, must be a phrase that they use. A motto.

“Aurë entuluva’’ . . . meaning ‘day will come again.’

Beautiful, is the only way I can bring myself to describe it. Not only as a reaffirmation of their loyalty, but as a foil to those creatures of the night.

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Entry 29. — Isilhíni

While I must admit that this entry will be rather short, by no means is it lacklustre. Through my findings I have unearthed an almost fantasy-like detail.

Then again, I suppose in a world of blood-sucking demons and sun-blessed humans, this might not be too much of a shocker.

The Isilhíni. Translation: children of the moon.

It is all in the name. The descendants of the moon god, who are ordinary humans just like you and I. But with one exception.

Their blood is of extreme importance to vampires. It is to be upheld, as it holds the essence of their precious Isiltar.

I have not found all that I would have liked to, but this fact alone could be a crucial factor in stopping these sadistic creatures.

I will have to find out more. There has to be something greater regarding these god children.

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Entry 30. — Purebloods

I write this entry in haste.

While I have previously disregarded the existence of Pureblood vampires, recent incidents leave me anxious and I must note down what I have discovered.

Purebloods are the nightmares that you think them to be. All known vampire weaknesses do not affect them. Roses, sunlight, gold, none of it!

They are stronger, smarter, and all the more dangerous. Their bloodlust knows no bounds, and from what I have uncovered — they were even considered royalty.

I do not have much time.

Purebloods can be killed only by having a stake from the tree of Laurelin. The tree that was destroyed centuries ago. But there is hope, some of Laurelin’s fr ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

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Scribbles.

Scribbles and blood splatters.

That is all that is left of the scientist’s writing. As though the scene itself told you a story — and suddenly, the cluttered state of the room made sense.

Closing the book, you lift it into your hands. You would not let this work be done in vain. You felt as though you owed it to this mystery writer. Determination swells within you and you make a move to leave at last.

Well,

That was until a creak in the floor echoes from behind you.

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ next up: characters

30 notes · View notes

theyungihven · 2 years

Text

Sweetest Devotion ☆ Yunho

Pairing : alpha ceo yunho x omega secretary male reader

genre: romance, fantasy, office au, a/b/o universe

word count: 5.8k+ words

warnings : mentions of blood, unprotected sex, blowjobs (m receiving), claming, breif mentions of trafficking

networks : @underworldnet

tags: @star1117-archives ♡

The soft sunlight falls on the chairman's desk where he sits, in all of his glory, signing the documents and the pile of contracts that need his final approval to kick-start the project. His eyes carefully span across each line of the document, pointing out any errors in the final document which needed to be revised by the head of the concerned department.

The perfectionist attitude towards work is what he says, brought his company to great heights in 10 years after its founding in the chairman's sweet 20s. Quantum tech, the company pioneering in areas of advanced science and space travel is a booming business in the share market, as it has never faced a great loss in its history and the chairman swears by it every time in his meetings.

Charming as the very first time you'd seen him, he sighs, dropping the fountain pen on his desk and spilling its ink onto the office writing paper. But he has you, his saviour of a secretary to clean up his clumsy messes occurred in moments of peer pressure such as this, where he sighs again dropping his head low which hits the desk.

“Secretary y/l/n?” The chairman calls in a tired voice as he barely slips the words out of his lips. You fail to listen to them as you're lost in your dreamland while you stare out the clear glass window. He moves his arm a little to tug on your sleeve and it directs your attention at him. He looks up with his pleading innocent big round eyes then points at the mess on his desk.

“Sir, you've got to be careful with your favourite pair of shirts!” You worry about his favourite white dress shirt as you force him to sit up and push his chair a few inches away from the desk. The material of the clothing is one of finest and it has been tailored to fit the curves of the man you serve, which increases its worth more than your existence.

The weakness of your sick body resurfaces again as you have trouble standing straight and start losing the balance of your feet. You support yourself against the desk, as you wipe off the ink smeared on the desk with paper towels, under the prying gaze of your boss. Droplets of sweat roll down your forehead, as it wets the stiff collar of your shirt and you feel yourself close to collapsing at the very moment. Can he just stop staring? The predatory gaze of the chairman did nothing but just worsen your state plus the tight waistcoat makes it harder to breathe normally.

“Are you alright, Mr. y/l/n?” The devil in disguise, your chairman asks, arching an eyebrow. He knows his secretary well and zoning out at such serious times is a habit his secretary dreads from the bottom of his heart. Your hesitation in answering him draws his attention. So he studies your face searching for something, as if he's concerned about your health.

“I'm alright, sir.” You answer without any effort, as you wipe the sweat gathering on your forehead with a handkerchief while standing beside his desk and your back facing the mirror you were staring through a moment ago.

“Knowing you, secretary (y/l/n), you're someone who said ‘I'm okay' while suffering from covid last month.“ He mutters, darting his eyes at you while studying every inch of you as if he's intrigued by your very existence.

“I apologise about that, sir.” You mumble, shifting your gaze to the hardwood floor underneath your shoes. “I dread burdening other folk, especially you, with my troubles.“ As an apology, you bow diligently in front of him and adjust the strap of clothing tracing the curve of your waist.

“It's okay, I understand but....you look so close to fainting right now, secretary y/l/n.” His eyes lay on you again as if they never left your figure in the first place. “Is there something you're hiding from me?” He asks with an emotion you've never heard, laced in his voice which now echoes in your ears. Your cold and narcissistic boss, asking if you're alright? Never in your wildest dreams....or maybe this is a wild dream of yours.

“Sir, its-...... i-” You shutter, failing to find a believable lie to say to your boss. It has never been a hard task until this moment where his very existence in the room makes your breathing and the beating of your heart irregular. How are you going to tell him something very personal? You are in your twenties anyway, and with a profound mind you could get hired anywhere else.

“I'm not hearing a no again. As my personal secretary, I will be held responsible for overworking you.” The chairman hisses with anger laced in his tone as he slams the desk, standing up from his seat. He raises his eyebrows as he rolls his eyes and you nervously gulp at how the simple act stirs heat in your stomach.

You press your lips together, gathering some courage to spill the truth, knowing there was no gain in hiding information from your boss who definitely knows about your infinite lies. “It's- It's due to the blood transfusion.... l-last week, sir.” You shutter, forcing your eyes to look at the floor instead of meeting his piercing gaze. Damn, why is it suddenly so hot in here?

“Oh, did they not test it before giving it to you?” He tilts his head, as if plotting a crime in his head and the subject of the crime is your doctor.

“The thing is... sir... the tests came out fine....but the donor was an omega.” There is a high potential your lips might end up bleeding at the end of this interrogation by the rate you bite them whenever he asks you something though it has never been your thing.

Perhaps, today marks a change in you. A beginning of something new?

“And?” He arches his eyebrows in a comical way which makes you almost laugh in the midst of the serious situation.

“My doctor suspects I might go into a false heat because of the hormones.” At the end of your sentence, you were oh so sure the chairman's eyes flashes a dark tone of red through his irises. It is similar to the colour of the wine he prefers; deep red as a human's fresh blood dripping out its wound.

The atmosphere turns heavy, as the chairman takes deep breaths in attempts to calm himself. You start feeling a little uneasy and decide to leave the awkward conversation after the embarrassing confession and run out of his office.

You hurry to grab your briefcase from the reception of his front desk and mutter a “I'll explain over text” to your assistant, then rush down to the lobby which has been a few floors of steps down. The elevator is just, not your thing. Plus, the chances of getting caught by the security are higher in it.

“Secretary y/l/n!” You hear someone yelling your name from the distance as you try to rush to the entry of the building, while speeding through the lobby.

The voice sounds too familiar so you don't turn around and continue your pace until a hand wraps itself across your wrist. They turn you around, only to face your boss looking at you with great distress and concern plastered on his face.

He breathes heavily due to all the running with you being the main cause as everyone in the lobby stares at you two, whispering the heavens know what.

“Sir? Are you alright?” You ask him, making sure he's alright. It's a habit that you've come to adopt whilst caring for him all these years.

He moves closer without any hesitation, close enough for your lips to touch each other. He then brings his lips closer to your ears and whispers, “you see all these people? They won't hesitate to pounce on you any moment. So come with me and you'll be safe.”

Within the extremely close proximity of your hot and handsome chairman, all you could do is nod your head to whatever he whispers in your ear as his breath flutters against your earlobe. Your eyes find their way to his fingers wrapped around your wrist, which he never lessened as he uses them to drag you back to his office.

You enter the familiar office of his on the highest floor, fitted with highest grade material and the exquisite decorations that were added to enhance the space are way out of your pay grade. It is clearly unexpected when he seats you on the premium leather couch reserved for his special guests and rings his front desk for a coffee.

Being a dedicated secretary you know his caffeine preferences at this time of the day, a vanilla latte with extra sugar but the extra order of a cup of espresso with a chocolate steals your breath.

He knows what type of coffee you drink and even the additional preferences? What is with him and his sweet kdrama lead attitude today? It is so unlikely of him to act like it but....you're different too today. Are the Greek gods of fate bored on their thrones in the heavens today? Seems like it....

“Thank you, sir.” You thank the chairman as you sit a metre away from him on the same couch. Your eyes still quiver to meet his gaze as they focus on the watch you wore to work today. They widen in surprise when you realise it's your gift to him on the company's 10 year anniversary.

“It would be a shame if I didn't even remember your coffee preferences, when you know my entire diet.” He chuckles, fidgeting his fingers as he looks around the place, afraid to share the same gaze when he realises you noticed the watch on his wrist.

“You never fail to flatter me, sire.” You mumble, eyes coincidentally falling on his slender fingers decorated with accessories which strangely dry your throat.

“I suppose, you barely know about the a/b/o anatomy.” His voice draws you out of your trance as a strange lavender scent fills the air and your chairman strangely likes it as he breathes deeply. Did he ask the staff to change the fragrance of his humidifier??

“I fear I skipped biology class at school sir.” You shyly mumble, rubbing the back of your neck as you grow embarrassed about skipping the biology of high-school.

“It's alright, I've got you covered!” He almost chimes, grabbing the writing pad laying on the glass table in front of him, as he flips the cover open and proceeds to place it on his lap. You pass him a pen as he has broken it after dropping it on the desk earlier and he returns a soft smile at you which makes your heart oddly flutter.

You observe the movement of his fingers and the lines and letters they trace down the paper similar to a questionnaire with enough space left for writing answers.

“Here are the five main things about wolf anatomy. Pheromones, Heat cycles, Marking/claming, the Secondary sex and Mating.” The words he mentions make you uncomfortable in your seat since you are aware of some of them thanks to your loud roommates. “Let's start with the sub types or secondary sex, shall we?” He marks it number 1 with a circle around the number and you take a deep breath. You nod to agree with his question?It sounded more like his orders or were you used to his everywhere sounding like order ready to be taken care of?

“Within the wolf communities, we have 3 subtypes. Alpha, beta and omega.” You try to take in the information in an anatomical sense but all your brain does is relate it to physics experiments.

“Oh, are they like a hierarchical order?” You question him, humming as your brain questions their origins. You swear the look on his face is utterly comical when he hears your words and sighs.

“No no it like decides whether you can reproduce or not.” The chairman says, as your eyes fail to focus on his words and are rather interested on the ring he wears on his index finger.

“Ah, as in sterile and fertile groups?” Your mindless questioning tests his patience but he curls his hand into a fist to retreat his anger.

“It's more complicated than that, Mr y/l/n. Listen carefully.”

“Yes sir.....” You divert your eyes to the floor in fear of getting scolded again.

“The alphas basically are the male sex of the wolfs, meaning they can fertilise the eggs of the female sex, that are omegas.” His words light a bulb in your ocean of thought even though his speech is a bit different counting the awkward subject but nevertheless you understand it.

“Ohhh, so you can reproduce....” you blurt out without any second thought and his earliest turn red with embarrassment.

“Where did you hear that?” His question sounds more like a scream which shakes up your whole body from its resting place.

“They call you the big strong alpha outside!” and like a complete idiot you point outside with your index finger.

“You are a bit comical today, secretary y/l/n. I like it.” The smirk creeping up his face makes you want to kiss it off his lips because it does something to the heat coiling in your stomach. It adds more fuel to it, making it burn harder and sending you down the road of devastation.

He observers your facial features for a while before continuing his lecture. “Anyways, betas are the ones that are sterile. Even though they can't reproduce, their group is prone to human trafficking for sex trade.”

“That's...a bitter truth I failed to hear all these years.” You nervously retort your eyes off his lips and trail along the curve of his thighs in the tight fabric of the pants.

“The most prone are omegas, secretary y/l/n. Being the female sex, meaning they have a uterus and can give birth, are most prone to sex trafficking. Major factor is their heats..”

“What happens in heats?”

“Did your doctor not explain the cycle?”

“Umm..sir..I kinda..”

“I understand. We might lose focus under stress.” You weakly smile, pressing your lips together and rub your sweating hands against the fabric of your black jeans.

“Moving on the pheromones” He continues while glancing in your direction every other moment to make sure you don't run away or your state doesn't get worse? But he is the fatal cause of your deteriorating state and the mess you are in the moment to be exact. “So these are hormones, sex hormones to be exact.”

“Ohhh like oestrogen and testosterone in humans”

“Yesh, my dear, but let me finish” He fakes a cry of distress and attracts all of your attention, sending you into panic mode.

Unable to compute the situation, you opt for the only measure in confusing situations; apologise, “Sorry, chairman.” and you did. Buy the look he gives you after raising his head, sending shivers down your spine.

“Call me sir!” He orders, as if it's running an errand for him.

“Sorry?”

“Just call me sir.”

“Yes sir.” You nervously gulp, looking around to change the topic. “about the pheromones...?”

“Oh yeah... the pheromones...they are like scents, flowers released to attract bees.”

“So... that means…” your cheeks burn with hotness and you find yourself unable to think straight. “I'm sorry if I'm bothering you sire. I apologise if my condition is causing you any kind of distress.”

“I'm alright, secretary y/l/n.”

The moment of peace is interrupted by his receptionist walking in without knocking and it turns the soft expressions on your chairman's face into sour ones as his smile falters, replaced by a scowl. She places the 2 cups of coffee on the coffee table then almost says something but the chairman's dark gaze has her fleeing out his office.

“ Is my sickening scent making you nauseous, sir?”

“Well...it is sickening indeed...but im alright.” Your eyes fall back onto the curve of his thighs and you notice he's oh so clear boner straining against his tight fabric.

“Shall I sit far away, so it doesn't affect you much?” You say nervously gulping as your mind flashes the image of his erection even when you look away as quickly as you can.

“I'm okay...we have stuff left, Mr kang.”

“Sir, please continue if you only can.” Your eyes finally meet his soft ones which quickly look away as if trying to hide something for you. He clears his throat, and looks at you again, a little long for now.

“Are you alright sir?”

“We shall leave, secretary kang. I'm done for the day.”

“As you wish, sir. Let me make the arrangements.”

As you find the chairman's driver's contact and dial his number, the chairman slides his burberry coat onto your shoulders and whispers, “this will cover your scent for a while.” You breathe in his strong oud wood scent which covers your weak lavender scent and makes you feel at ease. You slightly bow, thanking him for the generosity and he returns you a warm smile which makes his lips curl up, showing his sharp canines.

The walk down the lobby is a fest of attention as everyone stalks you both from head to toe after the incident a few minutes prior in the same place. A stern gaze from the chairman drives them back to their work and then he looks at you with warmth in his eyes as if it's his way of saying “I've got it covered' and your heart skips a beat.

Things take a soft turn when Mr. Jeong asks his driver to lend him the keys as he wishes to drive himself home and without a question, he is handed the keys as asked and opens the door for you to sit then walks across the car to get himself inside the automobile.

The atmosphere in the car is comfortable for both to breathe normally and exchange a few words as the young chairman starts his lecture for a little crash course about the wolf anatomy to you who never indulged in studying biology.

“About the heat cycle, you have the paper right?” He says softly as his eyes focus on the road ahead of him while he tries his best to drive in the 'insane' traffic of the metropolitan city.

“Yes, sire, I do have the writing pad with me.” You hold the writing pad which you snatched from his office the moment the paper attached to it contained important information.

“Note this down.” He says and your hand is a machine ready to record his words on the paper and so you do, write what he says as you cannot devalue his words saying 'I'll remember this' because it could get you fired the very minute.

“Heats are basically breeding cycles. Alphas have their ruts and omegas have their heat, which usually last upto a week.” His words make you gulp nervously but not listening to them is not an option. You write it down as your cheeks burn with embarrassment and he drives the car with the scariest expression you've even seen on his face. HOT!!

“In the next section, the mating one.” He points out using his index finger of the free hand which isn't on the steering wheel. “You can write, it's an act of claiming or marking your partner.” Excuse me? What kind of beauty and beast stuff is this? You mark the one you love? “Also, after mating, their heat cycles sync up to help them......in helping each other i suppose.” The chairman clears his throat then turns into the next lane as he pulls over in front of the pharmacy. “I'll be right back, y/n. Stay right here and lock the door.” His authoritative voice works wonders on you as you nod at his orders and lock the car door after he steps out of it.

You take a deep breath, relaxing yourself in the car seat as you pull out your phone to call your fellow roommates, to inform them about the embarrassing events with your boss in his office. Their reaction is out of this world, just as you expect it to be when they learn about your heat and how your boss reacted to your pheromones.

They are excited to hear more from you, judging from the screaming and shouting and your boss is nowhere to be seen so you spill every detail on the phone. Sadly you have to end it when he returns but a message graces your phone from your doctor and it says 'important' in all caps which has your heart stop beating for a second.

“These are scent blockers, heat suppressants and some other stuff to help you.”

“Umm. Sir...you shall see this..” You glance at the message and back at his face in uncertainty of what you've read and hand him the phone because he has proven to possess more brain cells than you even could in the morning.

His eyes glance at the screen as he reads the text and they stare there for a whole minute while you nervously bite the inside of your cheek. You observe how his eyes widen, and he bites his lower bite as he mumbles, “I'll be back” with nervousness laced in his soft tone. With that he opens the car door, slips out of it and runs back to the pharmacy with the cover of medications he had just handed you over a moment ago.

He gets back after a few moments of utter despair of you wondering if this is the end of everything and you're going to die but he gives you a reassuring smile which melts your heart to the pit of your stomach. Why does he have this effect on you?

“Is my condition worsening, as every minute passes by?” You ask him with teary eyes and guilt in your voice as if you have yet to ask forgiveness from your best friend for stealing their chips.

“Do you have a partner to spend your heat with, y/n?” He asks you in the most serious tone, the one with which he orders you around like a dog in the office and it hurts your Oh so fragile heart as your lips curl into a frown.

“Um- no?”

“Not anyone you can trust too? Like someone close? Your doctor clearly stated not to spend it alone, as it might be painful.” His voice turns a bit soft, homely almost as he fidgets his fingers resting on his thighs.

“Well...you're the only alpha I know and whom I'm close enough to. People dont give a damn about humans these days. Even if you're tall as fuck.” You sigh, as you fake cry in front of your boss who sports a concerned expression on his face.

“I mean only if you are willing to..... also there's no pressure!”

“ I like you, Mr.jeong.”

“I always have ever since the first day I was appointed, as if I was inclined to your very being. I know I can be quite serious at work but I'm just trying to be professional in front of someone who fills my stomach with butterflies by doing the bare minimum.”

“Secretary kang, i- I never expected this from you.”

“I'm sorry, if I have breached the contract sir, but....”

There is a pause in time as if everything just stopped for a second.

“I don't think I can hide it any longer.” You say, the thing you've been dying to say since the aroma of his favourite earl grey tea hit your nose in the morning. “Your scent..... is doing something very strange to me. Because, why do I care if you'll leave me alone to spend this heat? What are you even doing this to me?” You let the string break and the dam collapses, giving your emotions the chance to flow out.

You bawl out, with no care in the world and the chairman does the courtesy of talking to you in his embrace. The immense pain in your chest surges as you take deep breaths but something about being in his warm embrace, his arms around your body, calms you down the very instant.

“I'm sorry, y/n. I'm really sorry.....for making you cry.”

You break the hug and face him in utter disbelief but before you could say anything he shushes you by placing his index finger on your lips.

“I know I've been a fool for punishing you all along. The very reason I hired you was, you attracted my attention. To be honest, you demanded it, as if, as if it belonged to you.” He is breathless by the end of it as if he has been dying to tell you this from the moment he first saw you in his life. “Yes, yes I like you too.”

He brings forward his hand to cup your cheeks and looks into your eyes with his soft ones that are so close to tearing up. “Infact, I like you so passionately that...that you're the only thing I can think of everyday, ignoring everything else in this world. You have no idea what you do to me, y/n. The very idea of hearing a ‘no' from you or you leaving me scares me the most.” And he breaks into tears, letting his head down as he dwells his heart out in your hands that support him.

You draw him closer to your chest and whisper sweet nothings into his ear in attempts of calming him down. It works as he now looks up at you with red, puffy eyes that still hold their softness and warmth. You stay still for a moment or two until he finishes admiring your face, then mumbles ‘I'm going to kiss you' softly and places a chaste kiss on your lips. But you pull him in again, not having enough for his soft lips and kiss him passionately as your lungs beg for air.

You pull apart, gasping for breath and he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours. “What is it?” You question him breathlessly, and he returns a fond smile.

“Nothing” He says, softly as his nose brushes against yours and your eyes meet his warm brown ones. He then pulls aways saying, “I don't want us to spend the day in here.” and pulls the hand bream, steering the car onto the main road.

You discuss how embarrassed you were in the morning, when he had asked you to confess. After listening to your side of the story, he breaks into a fit of laughter. “Were really going to quit, y/n?” The question echoes in your mind as you rethink your decision and wonder what would have gone down if you did quit at the very moment. Would he still fetch for you or would this moment where you are playfully bickering ever take place?

You are pulled back into reality as he parks the car in front of his oh-so gorgeous house and pokes you on the arm with his index finger. You glance at him as his raven hair falls over his eyebrows. He isn't any less than a perfect man at the moment, who sends your heart swooning to the pit of your stomach.

What have you even pulled yourself into?

Your stomach curls at the thought of him lying about everything but you pushing it aside, you reassure yourself that it's just trust issues and paranoia acting up.

Yunho opens the door for you, taking your hand in his as he holds it while you both walk on the pavement leading towards the greenhouse; his favourite place to relax and unwind and, so do you now, as you both make yourselves comfortable on the couch placed at the end of the Mirror Palace, which you had named the greenhouse.

His housekeeper, whom you're very familiar with, walks in, asking if you need anything and informing that you both can enjoy the night in peace as everyone has gone home early. At which, your cheeks burn up due to embarrassment. She also hands you a pair of comfortable clothes to change into as the one you are wearing look awful tight. But Yunho denies it, saying he'll need it later, as he sits on the couch, which leads to you and the housekeeper shyly blushing.

"Get back on the couch before I drag you again" He says in a stiff tone, the one he used before to threaten you as his eyes roam all over your body. It curls the heat in your stomach, and drives to the edge when he grabs you by the waist, making you sit on his lap.

"You didn't have to say that, you know" you mumble in the thin distance between both, as he gazes up into your eyes.

"I thought you'd run away" He says with a teasing smile as his grip tightens on your waist.

"Why would i-... oh...my pants!" Realisation hits you in the face like a truck, but it's too late as you feel the warmth of the liquid sliding down your inner thighs and the wetness of your pants. "Is this normal? I'm not dying, right?" You say as tears cloud your eyes in worry but he is quick to caress your cheeks and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

"It's perfectly normal, my love." His lips graze against the tip of your ears as they trail there for a moment, then move towards your neck. "It's called slick, my love."

"Oh...I know what it is... please don't explain!" His tongue circles the soft skin of your neck, lapping on it delicately as he then sucks on it which only adds fuel to the wild heat in stomach. A soft whimper of pleasure escapes your lips and you are quick to cover your mouth in embarrassment.

"I didn't get to kiss you properly, back then" Yunho says softly, as if drunk on the sweetest liquor while he pulls aways with a sly smirk on his lips. His brown eyes are hazy, with their warmth still present, but with a glint of mischief. He then licks his lips, as his gaze flickers between your teary eyes and soft lips.

"It would have been a disaster." you make a brave decision to lean in and your lips lay dangerously close against his, with your warm breath fluttering over them.

It is not in the slightest surprise to you when he procures your lips and tightens his hold on your waist, only to brush your thigh against his erection straining in the cafe of his pants. His hands wander across the span of your clothed body in desperate attempts of grounding himself.

The dress shirt keeping your decency falls down as his fingers fiddle with its buttons and soon you're half naked in front your boss. He stares at your sweaty chest with lust gleaming in his eyes and you bite your lips in embarrassment. He then proceeds to widen his thighs apart, unbuckling your dress pants in haste. They are dragged down to your knees and further down with one hand and he lifts up your waist with another, as if you're made out of foam.

You wrap your legs around his waist in attempts of securing your balance, only to realise he's bare underneath you. Your cheeks flush as they meet his eyes, but being the tease he is, Yunho presses down your hips against his unclothed groin.

His fingers caress the flesh of your buttcheeks, as they then travel lower towards your clenching hole, whose rim he circles with the pad of his index finger. You bite harder on your lip as he attempts to press his finger into your wet hole which provides him friction.

You raise your hips a little to chase the friction as your eyes turn hazy but it ends up in pressing the head of his cock against your hole. It urges you to bite your lower lips in attempts of hiding your moan but Yunho uses his thumb to unleash your lip trapped underneath your teeth.

He places a chaste kiss to them as his hands caress your face, his hands leaving the arch of your hips and your balance trips but he quickly catches you, chuckling away the mistake.

You are then placed carefully on the couch with your back against the soft fabric and his broad figure leaning over yours. He leans in, lowering himself to your level as he captures your lips again while his hand finds solace in the curve of your waist.

His fingers brush against your hard cock as he takes it in between his fingers, rescuing it from the dreadful hardness. It escapes numerous moans from your lips as he pumps your length against the soft skin of his finger's hold, which tightens every minute and chases the warm fuzzy in the pit of your stomach. It is not long before you reach your limit, patting Yunho’s thigh as he had asked you to when you are close to heaven. So you did, as he twists his wrist in a certain way and as he had promised, he blesses you the magnificent sight of heaven in his presence. Oh dear lord!

The next moments is fuzzy as your brain gives up when his oh-so big length pushes into your hole as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. But you promise yourself one thing; to hand in the resignation letter after your heat ends.

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walkman-cat · 9 months

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detective noir au scene snippet wbwbw :]

It’s raining by the time David pushes himself up from his work, stands at the window, and peers wearily through the blinds at the street below; his fingers dancing restlessly over his forearms as heavy droplets beat a dirge against the fogged windowpanes.

It’s early in the evening, but it’s late enough in the year that the sun has already set; the lamps lining the sidewalk outside David’s office are already lit— the light streams through the slats of the blinds, the shadows they cast undulating across David’s brow, his rumpled shirt, the bags under his eyes.

Cars roar down the street, drenching unlucky passersby. A couple cross the street, chattering, their shared umbrella glistens as rivulets of running water catch the lamplight.

Pushing past them is a group of newsboys. They chase each other, jumping in the rapidly-forming puddles, shrieking with glee, shielding papers ineffectively under waistcoats and blazers. They turn a corner and are swallowed into the city’s maw— the ghost of their laughter bouncing off the bricks of the tenements. (David doesn’t recognise any of them. Distantly, he wonders how Splasher’s faring, it’s been a while since they’d last seen each other.)

David is tired, so tired he aches. So tired that the lights in his office are too bright, the incessant ticking of his clock is unbearably loud, the texture of the case files he’d been organising and reorganising is too much.

Everything is fragmented, muffled. David can’t remember a time he wasn’t tired— when was the last time he slept? Does it even matter? The thought of having to brave the rain and walk home drenched seems insurmountable. His head bobs for the umpteenth time that hour.

With a sharp tug on one of the cords the blinds shut. David is plunged into darkness, rocking slowly from foot to foot, considering. The couch in his office is too small for his frame, lumpy, and threadbare in several places (artfully concealed with cushions for when clients arrive)— he’ll have to curl up, and will probably wake up with a stiff neck— but David’s too exhausted to care.

He removes the battered fedora from his head and turns to place it gently on his desk, stares at his coat for a moment before pulling it from where it rests on the back of his chair. Removing his pullover, untying his laces, and removing his boots require Herculean effort.

Gingerly, he lies down on the couch, brings his knees up to his chest, covers himself with his coat. It’s too big— too wide at the shoulders— with faded patches at the elbows and a hole in one of the pockets and wear in all the places where David habitually rubs the fabric with ink-stained fingers— but the weight is pleasant and familiar, and it’s warm. It was his father’s, once.

The deluge outside has calmed to a lullaby, a quiet pitter-patter at the window. David closes his eyes and is pulled out to sea in waves of unconscious.

He’s ripped from his sleep in an instant.

Someone’s knocking at the door.

#who could it possibly be ??#(it’s kath)#newsies #detective noir au #david jacobs #wbwbwbbw #davey?? writes????#not usually so this was a Time lol

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discobowser · 8 months

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The man He wants me to be

((Bendy AU))

#the last ink droplets au #sammy lawrence #bendy #batim #bendy au #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #art

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thelastinkdroplets · 3 months

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This isn't how it happened.

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corner-stories · 14 days

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Jeankasa and 23 please??

Rainy Day Dialogue Prompts 🌧

23. "I don't want to go out. It's raining." enjoy more of my Grad School AU

Despite growing up in a city known for its rain, not every downpour feels the same.

It's different in Montreal, where the air feel colder and the clouds feel greyer. Under most circumstances, the droplets on her coat or the mist in her face would feel familiar, but looking upwards to not see the sight of coniferous trees, or glancing north to not catch sight of a rocky mountain range, makes the experience seem uncanny.

As Mikasa exits the metro station she neglects to pull up her hood, a habit from her youth. She ignores the dampness in her hair as she traverses the rainy sidewalk, weaving between various people and their umbrellas. She arrives at her apartment building and is quick to slip inside.

After a short staircase climb she arrives at her unit. As to be expected, she opens the door to greet both her significant other and the abundance of plants they have adorned their space with. To the surprise of no one, Mikasa affectionately refers to the apartment as "the Jungle."

Jean is sitting at the island near the kitchen, nursing both a cup of tea as he tends to an open sketchbook. It's one of his larger ones, a mixed media beast that he's filled with both ink, charcoal, and the occasional layer of acrylic paint. The pages are warped as a result. Today he's being a super productive grad student as he doodles with a fountain pen.

Mikasa closes the door and sheds her raincoat, then her boots, then organizes them all in the nearby closet.

"Hey, how was the conference?" Jean asks, not looking up from his sketchbook.

Mikasa lets out a sigh as she undoes her ponytail. A part of her is really regretting the choice to grow it long.

"Boring," she tells him as she heads to the bedroom. "What's for dinner?"

She barely closes the door before shedding her clothes. Her current outfit is slightly more formal than usual, as spending a day mingling with McGill alum requires different threads than spending a day in a lab. Nonetheless, once it's tossed into the bottom of her hamper Mikasa grabs something more comfortable.

"Was thinking of ordering in," Jean's says through the walls. "When was the last time we went to uh... that one shrimp taco place?"

Mikasa is pulling on her "staying-in" sweater by the time she leaves the bedroom. Her first reaction is to raise an eyebrow at the artsy guy at the counter.

"The one around the block?" she asks. She goes to the teapot near the stove, tentatively feels it to gauge the temperature, then begins pouring a mug for herself. "Why don't we just head over then?"

Jean lets out a sigh as he looks up from his sketchbook. "Yeah, but I don't wanna go out. It's raining."

Mikasa hums, smiling very lightly as she picks up her tea. By the scent of it she guesses that it's chamomile, but all she really cares about is the heat now seeping into her frigid fingers.

"You know, I'm from Vancouver," she tells him, a small smirk creeping to her lips. "We don't have rain, we are rain."

#jeankasa #jeanmika #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #mikasa ackerman #snk #modern au #grad school au #ask box memes #things i write to explain my hc #that Mikasa just fills her living space with plants

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚 [ Season 3 ]

synopsis; • Fast forwarding six years, Park areum is coming back to the journalist industry. A case from thirteen years ago re-opens when Areum finds something suspicious around a drug ring in clubs and her parents car accident from thirteen years ago have suspicious links. However something always trails back to past that she’s never knew about.

warnings; • mafia jeno Au, mystery, thriller, SMUTTT NO MINORS, ANGST, police exo au, romance, park areum and lee jeno are married , minjae and nayoung are cuties, horror (scary death scenes). gruesome graphic detailed language.

Now Part 4 !! || —> Next Part 5.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

From warmest lungs come whitest clouds, a humble gift of the sun that is simply heaven bound; and this is the beauty of the cold rainy days, to show us what it is to feel the humid droplets of rain threatening to spill out the grey clouds,

But even though it is a gloomy image spreading in the distance, with the ground flooding and the windows ratting with,

The day still seems as important and as magical everyone imagined it to be. The bride and groom were happy nevertheless, and at the end of the day, their wedding photos turned out absolutely beautiful to their expectations.

The preproduction of the venue was up to date to the theme that the bride has wanted it to be, a simplistic white theme with roses and a three-tier expensive looking cake, along with family and close friends to cherish the lovely day with.

Rumbling guests chattering amongst themselves, even the priest— who was picked on the last minute because somehow… Jisung has begged Johnny to be the priest. The real reason was because the original priest who was booked, has dipped and refused to go and do the job due to the heavy storms today.

The place however, was soon to be interrupted by two police officers roaming in as freely as if it were their home on a Sunday evening back from work. Areum never invited them but she ignored the presence, as she looks down at Nayoung and Minjae.

“Hey, go and play with Dalli and Daehyun. Oh and stick to Uncle Doyoung and auntie Jisoo.”

The children skip around with a big smile, together meeting with the two slightly older twins; and the couple sitting by with a champagne in their hands, looking like a rich older sophisticated couple. The large venue also invited Haechan, who would Jisung be if he didn’t invite his ‘favourite hyung’, right?

Kun, Yangyang and Renjun were let off work, all thanks to Jeno’s boastful invite . These three soldiers were surrounded by Mina’s co-workers from the daycare nursery.

And finally, Areum had to bring her three plusd Mark ,Karina and Mr Ahn. Her boss was surprisingly half drunk already, dancing on the dance floor as if there was no tomorrow. Mark and Karina roaming the food aisle section, digging in freely.

Areum notices a taller figure shadowing over her, voice rutting, her clearing it obnoxiously. She walks past the man, and he simply follows as he’d begin to pull the journalist outside the heavily occupied room, more quiet where the alcoholic drinks were.

“I don’t think you were invited.” Areum speaks first, cutting the detective like a deep blade ready to stab and stab all over again. The clear dislike for the police itself was really there and she did not bother to hide it. Baekhyun said nothing but his eyes fall down to his hands where a white letter with red writing opens up from the folds,

The journalist peaks down to the letter he reveals casually to her, with large red ink written title ‘Warrant’ as well as the courts justice signature for proof. The smug detective would watch the fallen disappointing expression on Areum, but somehow rolls eyes. As expected, of course they’d get a warrant to be extra careful and precise.

Areum looks away and Baekhyun puts the paper back in a square-four folds, tucking it back into the pockets fancily. “Now, I’m assure you know why I’m here so let’s get to the point.”

Another silent answer from Areum. Baekhyun begins to realise that the woman was merely ignoring his existence, as her focus was down on the food in the plates, nearly presented for the consumers to ear. He sighs dramatically “Unless, you want me to stay. Which I’m aware you don’t want that, so quickly give me a statement.”

He hears nothing from the unbothered woman. Areum curls the fingers at the small macaroons, taking a plate. She lifts the pink French classic dessert with the fingers, nomming into it as her eyes meet Baekhyun.

The man watches her eat, the woman humming in awe at the exquisite taste.

“Miss Park, can you cooperate with me here?” Baekhyun asks. Areum swallows the food, bringing the plate down. “Look, Detective. I already said my statement, which is I don’t know anything. Now if you please tag along with your boyfriend over there and get out.”

Baekhyun turns around seeing Chanyeol standing awkwardly like a sore thumb around the fancy dressed up guests for the wedding. Baekhyun looks back at Areum, clearing his voice. “I’m afraid I won’t leave unless I get a real statement.”

Areum gives a fake smile. Somehow, the police officer’s determination was aspiring, aspiring to failure , areum would think. Unfortunately for the man, who truly did nothing wrong to be disliked or hated; but the woman still somehow found ways to dislike his presence inside and out. Areum will be the death of him metaphorically.

No one can get through Park Areum and make her confess or find out any information from her. It’s impossible with journalists, and it’s even more impossible with a journalist like Areum herself.

“Very well,” Areum would say. “Completely your choice detective, stay. Enjoy my brother’s wedding.” She’d tell him, grabbing the plate and leaving with it to join the others. Baekhyun mentally sighs.

He has such an easy job, but it’s rather proven to be difficult when it comes to Park Areum.

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Jisung would pull the knife with Mina’s hands on top of his, cutting the cake slice open. The people massively clap and cheer, some whistling and some jumping around wanting a cake slice already to eat. The group gathering around,

Areum smiling as her camera focuses on the moment, capturing the wedding pictures.

“Now who wants a cake?” Jisung jokes about. Nayoung’s jumps up and down by the side. “Me! Uncle Ji, I want cake!”

“I will do the honours and spoon feed you, princess nayoung.” The groom dramatically tells, Mina smiling and laughing as she holds Minjae in the arms. Areum turns around to pinpoint the speaker with the music dj and sound track, slow dancing music arriving the area.

Everyone stops and gasps as they realise it is the time for the groom and bride to twirl in and begin the dancing spiral trail, where slowly others would join beside them for the beautiful night.

Jisung caught in a prance, Nayoung and Minjae fell off their hands to join the others, as the guests step back forming a small dance circle. The groom, wearing the enrich black and white tuxedo with a white rose pinned on the collar, looks in awe at the woman he can finally call his wife, for an eternity; The bride, looks back with just as amount of love and eagerness,

The man approaches, hands pulling the bride forward in a soft embrace with hands creeping round the waist so naturally,

Their bodies felt such a safe place hold for anything, it’s as if their bodies interlinked. Mina’s breathe hitches, feeling the way Jisung’s hands held a tight hold on the beautiful wedding dress. Slow music calming the busy venue, as it follows the couple.

Jisung whispers, only things mina could hear so clearly. “I dreamed of this day so many times, is this a dream?” these words of doubt was almost lethal. Mina’s eyes softening, as she moves her hands to hold on the jawline, their eyes reconnecting.

Mina smiling softly, the tip toes on short high heels perk upwards, lifting her body to lean in; the bride’s lips capturing a long lasting soft kiss on him. Jisung flustered, still had returned the kiss with the arms pulling his wife with help.

“It’s not a dream, love.” Mina encouragingly told. “This is real. I love you.” she confesses, their attached lips breaking apart and Jisung felt a rush of serotonin in the stream,

“I love you too.” Jisung utters, bewitched by a woman called now his wife.

Slowly, couples start to join the slow dance right after Jisung and Mina’s short confession. The Kim Couple; Doyoung and Jisoo, join the party very quickly as they slow dance nearby the bride and groom.

Jisoo resting her chest on Doyoung’s, as he leads the dance. Then Mr Ahn seemingly found himself a partner to dance with.

Jeno wasn’t going to be just fashionably late, if he weren’t to magically ask his own wife out to dance right?

Areum felt a hand next to her in offer come out, turning around to be met with dark Iris pupils gazing into her sulking eyes. The woman tuts the tongue, he hearing the light tongue kiss in annoyance.

“May you give me the honour to the dance, Miss Park?” Jeno sways forward, awaiting a patient answer. Areum sighs, “I’m afraid I already promised someone else a dance.”

The stubborn woman put up a fight, with all the right reasons to be upset if he were to be honest— very well deserved. He came late to her brother’s wedding, but he was more than devoted at the end to arrive at least when the dance for the couples began.

Jeno smirks, with that flirtatious smug that Areum always hated, but somehow, came to love over the years. “I’m sure you can make an excellent expectation and dance with me first.”

How persistent, Areum thought. He was most and definitely grovelling and will grovel for Areum at a week least. The hand stays still awaiting to be held, the woman looks at it and then up at Jeno. She slowly took the hand and lead to the dance floor with hundreds of people dancing in synch to the slow romantic lullaby on speakers,

Intense gaze hardly broke between them. Jeno was merely in a hypnosis, admiring how beautiful his wife was with the wedding clothes and maid of honour dress— with the way she was upset and trust Lord he knows it very well. He’s terrified with his wife’s anger, but he can deal to make up for it. He sometimes wonders, what Areum is thinking in that head of hers to be looking up at Jeno with such a deep magnifying eyes making him intimidating at times.

Areum mutters out, half annoyed. “You said you would make it here before the cake cutting.”

The man’s lips fall at a line, this was a situation that she wouldn’t really forgive him quickly. It is her only family member’s wedding, he was expected to be there from the morning and since he’s also a busy man with a busy job; she can understand he can’t be there in the morning. But the cake? He himself stated to her yesterday night he would be there on time.

Jeno softly speaks, he did feel guilty. “I know, I am sorry. I ran into traffic because of the storm, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve cleaned my schedule for this.”

She sighs, her hands latch themselves on the sharp jawline, pulling jeno’s face down to match on the lips. Areum deeply kissing him and him in shock, he stands still with eyes closed. Muscular hands attaching deep on the hips through the dress fabric, areum lightly pulls apart from the cold lips that began to heat up from her own mouth’s warmth and effect she has on him.

He used to be so heartless and cold, Areum was his epiphany to a new life where he could be living comfortably in heat. Warmth he longed for so long.

“Forget it.” Areum orders. “Life doesn’t always go as planned. Sometimes life takes a complete left instead of a right. Do not feel guilty for something you cannot control.”

“And please, who would I be if I didn’t record this from the start?” Areum smirks, Jeno’s guilty and saddened face lit up with his eyebrows curving on his forehead. He smiles, “no way, you did that?” Jeno croaks out with a short laugh.

Areum nods, tilting head at the man. He smiles, leaning down kissing her lips once again. “God, you’re amazing.” He thrills out.

While couples were busy exploring themselves, the singles (cough mark and Karina) were left in some sort of La La love musical.

Karina hums bored, if anything the woman wishes to dance but the only guy her age of interest is Mark. Now, you might ask why can’t she just ask him to dance right?

Well, these two have some sort of rivalry for whoever is areum’s best assistant. These two are more like oil and water, mismatching and opposites— but at times, that opposites attract begin to form something called likeness. The co-workers merely are at stage one, pushing at stage two where Mark lee has become hypo aware of the feelings for Karina, but he simply…

Chooses not to confess even though it kills him to see Karina look at other people that isn’t him. He needs that little push to finally make him snap… Standing between the food on the long table, the beautiful Karina stands still as he turns around with his eyes, watching her intensely as he bit his lip to find the courage to ask her just one tinsy thing.

He can’t believe he’s about to ask his co-worker this. “Karina, do you dance?” Mark finally spoke, out of nowhere cutting off Karina’s inner thoughts and thinking.

She turns around raising an eyebrow at him, “yeah, why?” And that is when the sudden confidence has disappeared, crushed and hidden away. The boy stutters, looking ahead at the couples dancing in front of them, no longer looking into her pretty eyes. “No reason.” Mark coughs.

He couldn’t see the immense disappointment painting on the young woman’s face, Karina sighing lightly. What else was she expecting, Karina thought that maybe, just maybe, Mark might ask her; but clearly not. She turns around no longer looking at Mark who greatly upset her,

But a tan slender hand forward invades the eyes. A young guy came forward to ask the pretty girl if Mark wasn’t going to do it. “Would you like to dance, miss?” Karina looks up hearing the guy with a challenging expression and a smirk forming on the lips with ease and confidence oozing out— something Mark lee is lacking right now.

She raises her eyes, judging Haechan from head to toe. She never met him, but she definitely seen of him. “You’re miss park’s friend right?” Karina questions.

“Awh you remembered me. But yes, indeed that’s me.” Haechan curls forward, eyes falling to side-watch Mark’s jealous expression with those dangerous round eyes of his marking Haechan when his face leans down to Karina to look closer and whisper words, that Mark could not bear to hear.

Haechan exclaims shockingly. “Areum never told me she had such a pretty assistant near her at all times. If she told me, I might be there twenty four seven.” Mark mentally gags hearing the younger boy flirt with his colleague.

Somehow he needs to thank Lee Haechan for his part in this conversation that no one hardly invited in to but only himself. Mark was done watching the man steal someone he’s been having eyes on a lot longer and with better intentions than Hyuck. The Canadian boy steps between them when Karina was thinking if she should do it as a plan B.

To the girl’s surprise Mark was blocking Haechan’s hand to be taken by Karina, the man speaking with control. “She already has a partner to dance with, go tag and find someone else.” Mark lightly spat, and Haechan whistles with hands in the air surrendering with no offence to fight back at the angered man.

“Whoa Marky boy, calm down. How about us two dance instead?” Hyuck teases with his eyebrow slit raising up to simply annoy the smart man in front of him. Mark glares with a raise of disgust by the thought of being held by Haechan, only because it’s Lee Haechan— if he was to be stuck for a day with him he would’ve killed him or himself .

It’s the hard truth but Haechan is just one of those people he has zero built up patience for and Mark, is a man of god who is patient for everyone 99% of the time.

“I already have a dance partner, it’s Karina.” Mark exclaims, with his hands falling to link themselves around Karina. The girl’s lips fall apart in surprise, watching Mark in awe. The man was glaring at Haechan, with a half smirk. Haechan exaggerating, gasps and complains. “Shame, she really is a dime isn’t she?”

With the chit chattering cut off for Mark’s timetable, he pulled the young glamorous woman in on the dance floor, Karina still as shocked as ever but nevertheless— thrilled and static with happiness running in her veins. These two dance their life away with each other,

Haechan sighs watching everyone dance. “Took him long enough to confess.” He spoke with shock and disbelief— if he were Mark who was in love with Karina, he’d be claiming her left and right. However the Canadian boy was much distant and slow at cooperating his feelings. Haechan could only do him a favour and act as a threat to Mark, making him seem interested in the young assistant.

He can’t believe it took him a small flirtatious action at Karina and Mark was shaking with boiling anger in his veins. Who knew Mark could be really intimidating and scary when jealous?

Travelling behind the scenes stands a silhouette figure, outshining and clearly not blending in the background nor the theme of the wedding. The young woman lurks like an eagle hunting, spying and scoping— seemingly to be looking for something or…

Someone.

Everyone was busy enjoying themselves at the party as well as keeping their best shoes on for dancing. The red hair man however, was not, his eyes caught on the moment her distant eery body language turns away from the crowd. She was taking actions of a loner, but who would be a loner at a wedding party?

The mysterious woman was a diamond piece, shining directly at Haechan who was an awful perk for having a diploma in nosiness. So when she suddenly heads out the entrance, finding the way to escape, The man follows her from behind.

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Green exit logo flickers off and on with the green LED light, a swoosh of nightfall breeze hitting in; the wrapped up woman taking one step out to escape, till something blocks the way. He cuts her off by the last door, leaning the rest of the body mass strength onto the doorframe. The woman looks up, questioning the man flashing her a flirty upwards smirk, deeply.

She’d pause. He spoke upbeat and extremely openly with his extroverted friendliness. “Hey there short peach, I don’t know you but I’m afraid I was in charge of the invites.” The girl hears silence once the upbeat man paused, merely for dramatic applause. He lightly whispers condescendingly with arrogance. “I don’t remember inviting your face round here.”

She raised an eyebrow. Despite the long and very strong accusations the young woman has shown no sign of botheredness. You’d suppose she is really going with the motto, fake it till you make it.

Ryujin disagrees, softly poking the hand blocking her way to exit, pulls haechan away as she walks away now. “Sorry I have a boyfriend.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone said that to me but ended up in my bed the next morning.”

The man said with a load of dump information, smuggling his eyes onto the woman to not lose track.

Body falls off the wall he has supported himself on to stop the girl from leaving. Haechan scrunched his face, balling saliva and tongue together at the corner of his lips, forms a ball poking on his right cheek. He was now, very much annoyed by the ignorant young girl. How dare she pull the ‘change the subject’ card on him. Especially when that was not his intention.

He was quick to turn around with a blank expression twisting into his flirtatious act. Following the mysterious stranger from behind. He knows she’s suspicious, his intuition and brain was raging it. “That’s fine baby, he really doesn’t need to know.”

Haechan half heartedly laughs, eyes squinting as his lips pucker into this annoying prat’s smirk that only high school fuckboys pull when they wish to harass girls for something; but instead it was Haechan trying to find out the truth of this stranger crashing his friend’s wedding. More like spying.

Not hearing a reply back, Ryujin was quick to gather on her motorcycle, tucking legs on the metallic feet paddles attach to the vehicle. She is reaching forward for the safety helmet but suddenly a tan thin spindly hand with miniature freckles takes it off the girl. The helmet was spun round the hand by a long index finger, flinging it like a yo-yo playtoy.

She lets out a soft growing growl as eyes scan where it was taken by the boy previously following her like an annoying stray dog without a home. She final glares, hands snatching the item rotating freely by the one thin finger. Haechan smirks watching how her agitation grows minute by minute.

“Short peach.” He trails leaning down to the small yet neatly structured motorbike roaring its engine out with bright clear headlights flipping on by the switch pulled. Ryujin scoffs, “you’re going to get hurt if you do not move out my way right this instant. Not that I care though.” Her lips push out with a dangerous smile. A smile that wishes pain on the boy.

“I love a little pain, darling. I am very much a masochist.” He teases forward, winking.

But even though this woman was a clear enemy of his who wouldn’t care if he were to die or survive. Haechan found it absolutely thrilling of his incurable boredom, because it was exciting to see such dynamite reactions from her. It’s been a while since someone wanted him dead— best believe it turns his boorish little unalive heart to beat again. He smiles mischievously.

“C’mon you entered and left. Aren’t you one of the guests, yes or no?”

Ryujin quietly utters out, tilting head. Oh how painfully she is torturing the boy in front of her. He is awaiting answers but all his questions were lead by another question. “Why so curious huh?”

“Well, I know for a fact Jisung is a loser who has no friends and somehow bags himself a woman he calls his wife now. The guests were either family or close friends. Now tell me, which one were you?” Haechan carefully interrogates the cyclist with crossed arms, though keeping steady weight on the bike so she would not ride off however she pleases.

Awaiting a response his face was met with Ryujin forward through the open small rectangle on the helmet. Eyes staring into Haechan’s black pupils, his eyes were as big as the sun itself considering she can see her own self in them. “Fuck around and find out, pretty boy.” Ryujin mouths.

Next thing the mere mafia solider knew was a strong breeze with rain hitting the bare nape behind his long mullet hair, body dropping simply by sliding off when the motorbike powerfully drives off the property with high fuel. Large black smoke inhale in the nose, Haechan coughs. He sees the trail of smoke leaving, letting the bike go free. But not completely free.

He grins like a nerd who has passed all his high school exams with a hundred percent. He stands up slowly, as haechan’s ears soon hear a loud beeping sound with red dot alert on the phone’s screen.

It was a map with a red dot moving constantly around. A tracker.

She did say fuck around and find out, Haechan thought. Little does the young woman know that she told this to the most annoyingly persistent mafia in the world who does not know when to give up.

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Though the night was young and wild, blasting their carefree relentless minds at ease with such bumming music dumping through the windows and walls making it impossible to not hear how loud their songs are— as well as their voices.

One person was surely feeling the need for peace and quiet however. That person, would be Areum. The journalist really wasn’t used to parties and constant music on, if she decided to stay in that party for longer she felt like her drums were going to explode.

Turning back around looking in the windows from the outside. Areum saw Mina and Jisung, smiling ear to ear, wide. The groom and the bride were only starting their first chapter of their life, she couldn’t be more happy for them.

The sweet moment has dimmed down once the time reveals the groom and the bride beginning a music change of dance disco genre. Areum squints her eyes forward, not believing her eyes. Mina and Jisung were doing a dance battle.

“And they say romance is dead.” Areum chuckles shaking her head, even if they are adults who just got married they still have time to be children themselves.

A shiver sent against the arms, Areum simply holds her body in an embrace keeping warm. It was colder at night but the rain really helps the weather to be freezing. The journalist stands nearby the car park, wearing the black formal dress fitting in the wedding theme from before. Hands shift back and forth down the arms sidelines, Areum’s lips softly blow out a white smoke coming out her mouth.

It was so cold that her breath was a white thick layers of smoke. But the cold was tolerable, surprisingly. Areum found it really peaceful, finding the inner calmness in herself to admire the full moon above in the sky. A large ball unable to miss it along with the stars that seem way too shiny on this day.

Just when inner peace was found, a guy stands next to her, tucking the cold reddish hands in the front pockets. He’d break the silence, “how come when disaster strikes it’s you always involved?”

Baekhyun questions turning his head only to the right direction facing her whilst his body stands straight, just like Areum’s. He wondered this question for eternity it feels like.

She speaks lowly as more smoke escapes her quivering lips. “A journalist job is to be present in everything.”

Detective Baekhyun goes amused, laughs a bit finding her reasoning fair but awfully witty. He simply radiates back the same energy response, raising one of his eyebrows at her.

“Is being stubborn and annoying a trait for the journalist too?”

“Mayhaps.” Areum turns her face towards Baekhyun, jokingly speaking back. “Is it cop’s personality to be crashing people’s weddings outta nowhere?”

He whistles hearing those words from the woman, fiddling on his tip toe shoes. “Touché. Fair enough. Can’t argue with you on that.”

“But seriously speaking now, won’t you tell me the truth? We both know very well you were the last person to see Mr Tong.”

“I have evidence and facts to prove that and easily detain you up in a cell for twenty four hours. The only reason I haven’t resolved into doing that is because I know you’re a clever woman.”

Baekhyun has caught Areum’s face faltering at every sentence he’s spoken with. All this friendly act and banter makes it impossible to like the detective because Areum, as stubborn as this will sound to many, she won’t open up even if it costs her life. Baekhyun’s threat does not scary her. She wouldn’t mind being detained for twenty four hours, in fact she wouldn’t care if she was detained for longer.

He hears silence. Areum went back to not speaking or answering him at all, because he confronted the problem that he needs answers for. It’s his job to do so.

Baekhyun softly lowers his eyes. “It’s frustrating to admit it but yes, you are intelligent and strong. I’m envious of that. You steal all of our cases because you’re quicker and better. But surely you have enough common sense to just own up and tell us your statement.”

Explaining how he feels this much pent up emotions he opened up so easily to Areum. But nevertheless the heartless hardcore work-alcoholic stays on her two glued feet on the ground. She can’t give up her parents case, she would have no choice but to hand it to the police. It wasn’t hers to begin with. She stole it. Baekhyun only want the case back, Areum told herself mentally.

She will uncover the truth about her family. She won’t give it up, that’s like giving up on her parents. Mr Tong didn’t die in vain for Areum to break and tell the truth to a detective out of all people.

Areum calmly said. “I already told you, I know nothing.” Baekhyun looks away in disbelief before turning to look at the formal clothed woman with a gaze.

“What if i told you I know what you’re digging up?” He trails quietly.

Areum raised an eyebrow amused, not believing one bit the bluff. “Hmm what would that be then, detective Baekhyun?” She lingers taking one step forward to the man, with her chin raised glaring with alluring eyes. She was intimidating him.

He takes a step back shuddering as the woman’s presence was far too much in control of the situation but he was desperate. Desperate for leads to the case himself. In fact he never intended to return it back to his chief, he wanted to do his own just like Areum. He slowly moves his hand across the leather jacket opening it, his fingers tap on the thin layer of paper resembling a thin photo.

“These are your parents, aren’t they?” Baekhyun spoke. The photo revealing to be two police officers just like the one Areum saw previously at Mr Tong’s place.

He saw Areum gulp her saliva down harshly, as she takes the photo by the edge softly with her fingertips. She does not break eye contact from the photo.

Areum softly spoke a whisper. “You knew them?” Baekhyun sighs out quietly. “Yes, I was an intern at the time. Your parents took great care of me at work. It was a shame when i heard they have passed away.”

The woman painfully closes her eyes and finally looks away from the photo. She pushes the photo card back into Baekhyun’s chest.

Areum harshly spat. “What’s your deal?” The woman fills her tone with wrath, this wasn’t how she planned her brother’s special day to be. “If you want me to back away from the case you’ll have to do a lot more than that.” Areum angrily said.

“Who said I want you to leave the case alone?” Baekhyun suddenly utters out confused. “My intentions were to team up with you. We both want to uncover the truth about them.” Areum let’s out a scoff hearing him speak about being partners, there’s no way she can trust a cop. She starts to walk away turning her back on the officer.

Areum kicks the stones underneath the fancy heels, as she quickly walks out with stomps indicating that she was really holding out her anger. How could he pull a photocard of her parents and think some sappy story could make her snap and crack to expose her crimes of stealing information from the police station. Even though she did technically steal it, she won’t admit to it. It’s her parents case at the end of the day and the police don’t help willingly.

It’s the sad truth. As Areum matches up to the entrance to join the wedding party once again, Baekhyun was quick to cut her off by jogging up and stopping in front of the woman. He forces her to look at him, showing her his pleading eyes and desperation on the face. She looks at him with her heart stopping temporarily.

Why did she feel like she could trust him? What makes him so familiar with her? Why was she actually crumbling for this detective? Areum hated this so much. She hates how soft she can get, and she hates how this detective specifically is devoted to her parents. Areum has discovered that they were police officers behind her back all their life, and what makes her so jealous and hurt is that Baekhyun knew that.

He knows them personally more than she could ever know them. He’s closer to them more than she ever was when they were alive and now that they are dead; she won’t ever have a relationship like he had with them. It hurts even more now that Jisung’s case is even worse. They died when he was really young.

“Areum, you don’t have to work with me but hear me out. People aren’t you are involved a lot more than in this case than you realise. People you wouldn’t expect.”

She pushes Baekhyun off, grunting at the words. “What do you mean? That doesn’t make sense. Me and Jisung are the only ones involved.”

Baekhyun stood still as he were pushed roughly by the two hands, he was suddenly quiet and hesitant.

“Lee Jeno, is involved in the case .”

Areum bites her bottom lip withholding laughter with all her resistance but the joke she heard was far too powerfully. Areum can’t help but think, what’s this nutcase talking about? He really must’ve went mad. The woman bursts a giggle holding the end of her head and stomach. Baekhyun wasn’t laughing however. He was plainly standing still as he watched her seriously.

She softly chuckles, but then noticing how Baekhyun is not laughing. She clears her throat and stops her behaviour immediately. She felt like her entire body shut down the answer and her brain was disclosing it awfully quickly not believing such a thing and she won’t ever believe it. Areum trusts her husband.

“Oh my god detective, you should be a comedian. Did you perhaps think about a career change?”

“I’m being serious, Areum. Jeno killed your parents.” Baekhyun spat half annoyed and the other half completely frustrated.

Areum blinks at Baekhyun not believing him whatsoever but grinning ear to ear at the detective. “Come on, don’t you think you’re being utterly disrespectful painting my parents death that way? How could Jeno murder my parents?”

The detective chides. “I have evidence to prove it. He planned the car crash.” Baekhyun quickly begins, trying his best to convince Areum otherwise. As he suspected before it’s not easy to get a journalist on their side.

“Stop!” Areum shouts explosively breaking down, frowning at the detective. “My husband is innocent. Do not speak low of my family, just because he is the mafia.” She spat backing away once again, glaring with hatred to the police officer. You’d think the police wouldn’t be prejudice but surely they paint the mafia so badly. Areum used to think so too till Jeno and Jaemin have changed her view point completely. “Now I’d appreciate if you never speak to me again.”

Said Areum threateningly. “Or else I’ll take this to court telling them you’re stalking me. That’ll surely take away your badge.”

The journalist stared at the broken detective as she turns away to go inside the building. But halfway in she bumps into a strong wood musk scent and a strong surface pulling her back preventing her to fall. Jeno was on his way outside to collect Areum, only to run into her coincidentally.

He flashes the confused woman down a smile. “Hey we’re about to head home so i was looking for you. Nayoung is getting drowsy.”

Areum with trembling eyes looks up at her husband, seemingly she zoned out watching her husband’s face, still questioning Baekhyun’s accusations. It still doesn’t make sense in her head but why point such a strong allegations onto him of all people.

She shakes her thoughts, she can’t believe she lets Baekhyun get the better of her judgment. How could she analysis the love of her life.

“Areum. Hey… you hear me?” Jeno worryingly said. She shakes her head awkwardly laughing. “Ah sorry I zoned out. Think I had too much to drink.”

“I’ll get the kids and meet you in the car. I’ll tell goodbye to others too.” She tells quick and Jeno nods as he watches Areum leaving inside the building to do as she said.

Jeno couldn’t help but shake the awful tension. Why was his gut feeling acting up?

Though the moment Areum was not in sight his dark menacing expression falls like paint on a canvas, when seeing Baekhyun chilling up front who was already watching the mafia leader. Jeno approaches forward, only to walk past Baekhyun.

The detective was watching Jeno as much as he pleases. Jeno felt his stare a little too obvious but nevertheless he wasn’t here to pick fights. Something tells Jeno that Baekhyun was responsible for Areum’s weirdly off putting behaviour…

His Karma Masterlist.

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I wrote this last part on the bus bc i was on my way to school😭😭😭…

@onyourhyuck please reblog, like and follow me for more if you want to see updates! It helps out a lot lovelies <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #his karma #nct series #jeno smut #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #jeno hard thoughts #jeno fanfic #jeno fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct recs #nct fic

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highladydawn · 2 years

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Gwynriel, modern day tattoo artist/librarian?? 🥺🤲

Gwynriel — Librarian & Tattoo Artist AU

(CW: Brief mentions of trauma and scarring)

"Nope! Nope. Absolutely not,” states the woman in the doorway. “No fucking way in hell.”

Azriel has just enough time to note that the hair tucked underneath her winter hat is molten copper before the woman spins on her heels and disappears back into the Velaris tundra. His eyes track her through the crystalline frost on the window, a bundled source of color against an otherwise dreary day.

The woman makes three labored steps against the freezing wind and relentless snow, only to scurry back into this shop. This time, she lets the door slam shut behind her. Azriel only blinks as the redhead shakes her head, droplets of melting white fluttering from her hair and onto the parlor floor. And for a moment, she simply stares.

“I...got about three feet away before I realized what an asshole move it would be to just walk into your shop, swear a bunch, then leave. I was gonna just leave. You know, do whatever people do when they’re so embarrassed they could die, but I’d rather be embarrassed than an asshole. So uh, I wanted say that it wasn’t you or the cleanliness of this place that stressed me out. Just the prospect of getting a tattoo. Anyways, sorry for swearing at you. And for tracking now into your parlor. And for— ”

"It’s fine,” Azriel cuts her off, unable to fight off a smile. “People get cold feet all the time.”

“I don’t have cold feet!” the woman insists. She kicks one slushy boot up into the air so he can see it better, then adds, “I wear two pairs of socks! In fact, my feet are the only thing about me right now that isn’t cold and hooo I’m rambling again. I think I’m going to go dunk my head into a snowbank now, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Why leave when it’s warm in here?” Az interrupts, this time surprising himself with his own eagerness. Hesitation blooms on the woman’s face, as if she can’t decide whether or not he’s making fun of her. “You can tell me what you planned to ask for today and I can tell you whether or not you should really have cold feet about getting inked.”

Whatever bravery had abandoned her when she first walked into the shop returns with a vengeance. The woman begins peeling off her many wintry layers, draping them politely on the coat rack. Her mile long scarf and woolen hat are the last things to come off, revealing her face to the warm lights of the shop. For a moment, Azriel feels the way he might if he had been pushed out of an airplane.

This woman was cute when she came in swearing and rambling and blushing. But now, with her teal eyes boring into his and her hair frizzy from her hat, he can’t help but think that she is seriously beautiful.

“I’m Gwyn,” she tags on, hovering in the entryway with an anxious smile. The edges of his heart melt at the dimple that crowns her smile and he would really, really like to get it together—but he can’t.

Maybe inviting her in was a bad idea, after all.

Still, Azriel manages to wrangle the clearly unprofessional thoughts he’s having about Gwyn’s smile and incredibly soft red hair long enough to gesture for her to take a seat. When she’s settled before him, Azriel notes that the freckles on her cheeks are dotted along her hands, and he’s tempted to see what constellations he can form. But his thoughts zip back to her eyes when she squints down at one of the tattoos that circle his bicep. It’s one of the oldest ones, made of six gothic letters and placed where a sleeve could easily obscure it.

“Azriel,” Gwyn reads. “Is that your name or your boyfriend’s?”

Az chokes on some strangled noise between a gasp and a laugh.

“Mine. Tattooing the name of your lover on your arm breaks the first rule in the book,” he replies with a chuckle.

“No wonder I didn’t come prepared. I didn’t read the book.” Humor glints her eyes, and Az is relieved to see that she’s relaxing in her seat. “I work in a library. Think we have it in the collection?”

Holy gods, Azriel curses to himself. Just what higher power did he please to send this woman into his shop on the coldest day of the year? This woman who knows how to crack jokes and chooses to be unbearably kind at her own expense. This beautiful creature who spends her days in a quiet library, but who braved coming into his shop to be more exciting than anyone maybe bargained for. Maybe a better question is, what higher power had he pissed off? Because if he tattoos something small on her and he never sees her again...

“Oh my god, is there really an actual book?” Gwyn whispers when he doesn’t answer.

Azriel laughs, catching himself off guard so strongly it almost hurts his lungs.

“No, there isn’t a book,” he promises. “I try to talk people out of tattooing any names that aren’t their children or dead relatives.”

It isn’t the softest way to put it, but it’s honest. Gwyn seems to appreciate this, twisting her hands in her lap thoughtfully.

“What do you suggest instead?”

Azriel shifts in his seat, his focus entirely on Gwyn.

“That depends. What did you come in here to get done?”

The words Gwyn wants to say get trapped in her teeth, and she tries to reform them on her tongue, but swallows them back. Azriel doesn’t know how to encourage her, how to let her know that she can share whatever she’s ashamed to say and that it won’t affect his opinion of her. He decides to give her silence and space. To allow her to choose how adventurous she wants to be. He expects her to be embarrassed about the subject matter or the placement, but when she does finally make her quiet admission, it sends his heart into his stomach.

“Last year, my twin sister and I made a pact to get the same tattoo. We were going to get each other’s names. But uh, we were attacked in our home. She didn’t make it and I...” Her gaze drops to her open hands as she swallowed. “I have quite a bit of scarring. I wanted a tattoo to cover it up so I wouldn’t have to look at it anymore and have that reminder of what I’ve lost. I thought maybe if the sensation of getting the tattoo might be a good one to replace the one that’s there. But, uh... The scar is too big for just her name. And saying it all out loud, I just feel silly.”

Azriel knows exactly what she doesn’t need to hear. She doesn’t need to hear that he’s so sorry for her loss, that people come in all the time to cover up all sorts of traumatic scars, that being attacked probably hurt more than getting tattooed would.

Instead, he simply offers her his hands. At first, she takes them, unsure of what he means to do with them, until he twists them over so that the back of his palm is facing up.

“Look closer,” he says. And she does.

His hands are nearly covered in ink, but underneath the dark grays and smooth blending of colors is rough skin. Gwyn’s fingers sweep over the healed flesh, grazing the rough patches with such tenderness, Azriel almost shivers.

“I’ll be honest, scar coverups don’t always make for perfect tattoos. You can see here how some of this scar doesn’t actually disappear. Sometimes the skin is so fragile that it actually damages the skin more. But if you want, I can take a look and see if a cover up is possible?”

Determination fills Gwyn’s eyes and she’s already rolling up her sleeve. Azriel is careful to keep his face perfectly neutral as the scar reveals itself, but Gwyn stiffens under his attention.

“No one else has ever seen it before,” she explains when he tries to give her a reassuring look that turns out a bit pained. Azriel only nods, finding that his tactic of “silence and neutrality” is working.

“May I?” he asks quietly. Gwyn offers her lower arm, allowing Azriel to see the placement up close. He only touches sensitive flesh for just long enough to determine that the coverup would be successful if he took his time and let the skin heal between sessions.

“Well?” she murmurs nervously. Her foot taps, as if she’s ready to pull her arm back and roll her sleeve back down. But she holds her arm completely still until finally Azriel releases it.

“It’ll tattoo.” Gwyn immediately relaxes at the news, pressing her lips together in a tight smile. “If you tell me what you had in mind, I can start sketching it out?”

Gwyn shakes her head, her smiling widening.

“I...I really didn’t get that far, to be honest!” she laughs, joy dancing in her eyes. “I expected to chicken out way before we got here. Or at the very least, pass out at the thought of the needle.”

“You’re made of tough stuff,” Azriel says, warmth reaching every consonant he spoke.

“Let me come up the design myself to start with,” she insists eagerly. “Then you can have it and edit it to your heart’s content. But I have about a million ideas and I think I need some time to narrow them down to just one. And then I should, you know, actually schedule a real appointment instead of just walking in.” She peers down at her watch. “It’s twenty minutes past your closing time. Fuck, Azriel, I’m sorry.”

“Twenty minutes well spent,” he promises.

There’s something about the way her eyes light up, something about that dimple and the freckles around it that put Azriel completely and utterly out of his mind. Maybe that’s why he continues, “Actually, you and I can meet up sometime and...talk about the tattoo? You talk, I sketch? Maybe over coffee?”

For a second, Az fears that she’s going to shrink back and find some other tattoo artist in town who won’t flirt shamelessly with her. But the only thing he detects on her lovely face is sheer delight, as if she’s incapable of hiding a single thing she’s feeling. It’s a relief—to know she wants to see him again just as much as he wants to see her.

“That...that sounds perfect, Azriel. I’ll need all the help I can get.”

She’s bundled back up and halfway out the door when she throws him one last warm smile. Azriel returns it, feeling the back of his neck warm.

“The library is just down the block if you ever want to talk about things that aren’t tattoo related. I’ve been known to bring extra snacks with me to work in case my friends get hungry.” She points a finger in his direction, and the heat on his neck creeps up to his cheeks. “That includes you now. Bye, Az!”

This time as she drifts up the sidewalk, she peers in through that icy window and offers a wave. Azriel stares at the spot long after she’s gone, picturing the fiery red of her hair and the sun through the clouds that melted it to gold.

_______

Thanks for the ask anon! I hope it lived up to your expectations! (Send me an AU and I’ll make a small edit for it + write a headcanon or short drabble to go with it!)

#gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #i spent so long looking at tattoos #all those hours of marathoning ink master paid off in this one #I wanted to do three paragraphs tops #turns out I don't know self control #there's not much library stuff in here #other than az being like that's hot AF #but I've never written gwynriel and I liked gwyn more than I expected #she's just so fun

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