The World Will Be Saved By Beauty.

Trouble

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - As it turned out, lavish events in the N109 Zone were not quite your thing, and this one did nothing but prove it. You weren’t looking for trouble, but it often had a way of finding you.

Word Count - 6.4k

Warning - MDNI. 18+. Oral sex f!receiving. Fingering. Light bondage. Mention of murder.

You were in trouble.

Not that it was immediately bothering you. You were having a good time—it wasn’t your fault that the rest of your companions were quite clearly not.

And besides, it wasn’t as if you were breaking any rules. Sylus had simply advised that you remain where he and the twins could see you upon your arrival at the lavish event, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

Whilst you watched a delectable cocktail being made for you at the bar as per a stranger's request, the three sets of eyes in various places around the room burned holes in your head as they watched you and the nameless man like a hawk. You only threw a few glances at each of them, catching Luke waving the tips of his fingers against his neck in a warning to get away from the guy.

You did no such thing, however. Listening to people kissing Sylus’s ass to stay out of his warpath had quickly bored you half to death, and some stimulation was very necessary for your withering attention span. You didn’t think much of the man who had approached you at the bar. He was dressed up like every other guy in the room, but he held a familiar air of dominance around him. Just as a certain silver haired man fuming a dozen metres away did.

The man ordered you what he deemed as being the best cocktail you would ever drink, along with an identical one for himself. One sip had led to another, your glass completely drained in a matter of a few seconds. He had another one raring to go before your glass landed back on the mahogany bar.

“Didn’t I tell you? The perfect cocktail.” The slight grin he shot you revealed two golden teeth that replaced his natural canines. You imagined the man would be quite intimidating to look at for most, but you took down Wanderers for a living. He’d need to do a lot more than flash his expensive gold fangs at you to make you feel threatened.

Not that you were getting that impression from him in the first place. He actually seemed rather pleasant.

“It’s delicious,” you agreed, already starting on the second.

He perched himself on the stool beside you, taking a sip of his own as he studied you for a moment. “You came with Sylus, huh?”

You nod, not seeing any harm in answering truthfully. “Is it obvious?”

The man chuckled. “His eyes are like lasers through my skull,” he crooned. He turned his head to wiggle his fingers in greeting to your companion. You didn’t dare turn to look in the same direction. “So, what are you doing on your little lonesome, darling?”

A shiver ran up your spine at the pet name. It was almost as if Sylus had caused it as a warning to you. You could feel his patience thinning by the second.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you responded, starting to feel a bit like a worm in the sights of a crow. 

Although you weren’t entirely sure which of the two men were making you feel so much pressure all of a sudden.

A blaringly obvious hand shot in the air a little distance behind the silver-eyed man beside you, catching your attention. Kieran had attracted more than just your attention as he threw his thumb back over his shoulder, eagerly coaxing you away from the man.

It was time to wrap things up.

You finally took the hint and slipped off of the barstool and onto your stilettos, your movement mirrored by the man before you. A large hand landed upon your shoulder, causing you to freeze up. At first, you thought it was his hand clamped there, but the sheer size and strength as it gave you a small squeeze was immediately recognisable.

Sylus.

Putting your face in one of the large fireplaces in the room sounded more appealing than looking up at him at that moment, so you kept your gaze on the sly smirk now spreading across the shorter male’s face.

“Sylus. It’s about time our paths crossed tonight,” he crooned. Gone was the admittedly quite charming face you had been accompanied by, replaced with one that could be compared to that of a viper. 

This man was not someone you should have engaged with.

Sylus’s firm grip remained on your tensed shoulder, anchoring you to him. His voice was cool and indifferent, like he was already bored by the idea of conversing with the individual.

“If you fancied my attention, Frank, all you had to do was say,” he drawled.

Frank cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes dropping to your chest. You suddenly felt a little overexposed in the plunged neckline of your fitted black dress.

“I was just on my way to you when I stumbled upon a lonely little stray,” Frank purred, his cold, lingering gaze finally flickering back up to your face.

Hiding the disgust in your expression was difficult, but you had a feeling it would be wise to at least try. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the twins standing together, watching the situation unfold. They were always ready to get involved if required.

Sylus chuckled, not one iota of humour in it. “I didn’t take you for the type of man to take pity on a stray kitten,” he said flatly. “Especially one with its collar on.”

He slipped a long finger into the chain of your ruby encrusted choker, giving it the smallest of tugs. You didn’t hate it, and honestly, you felt it more in the pit of your stomach than you did in your neck. Now didn’t seem like the time to think on that, mind.

The backs of his fingers smoothed over your racing pulse as he pulled the digit back out of the small space in your tight neckpiece. You shivered quite noticeably, the sensation awakening the pulse between your thighs.

“As you can see, this one is already taken care of.”

You didn’t miss the flare of hostility in Frank’s silver eyes as he followed every movement of Sylus’s hand—even as it moved to hang from his trouser pocket with his thumb tucked inside.

“Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash. Anyone could have gotten their hands on her,” Frank said tightly. It sounded awfully identical to a threat. “This is hardly the room full of people you would want to lose such a precious little thing in.”

Sylus didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed your arms and moved you to the side, away from Frank’s cold glare. Before you could even react, two strong arms either side of you hooked your arms with their elbows.

Luke and Kieran practically dragged you away, your feet struggling to keep up. As soon as you were released from their bone crushing clamps for inner elbows, you turned back to the interaction you were just kidnapped from.

Only to find the space completely empty.

“Okay, either you’re blind or really, really stupid,” Luke scolded.

You frowned back at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?”

“No, we won’t excuse you,” he snapped. “We’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking up different ways to dispose of your body after Frank was done with you.”

“Honestly, woman. Do we have to take you over the basic commands, again? I looked like a tool flapping my arms at you!” Kieran chimed in, looking like he was telling off a toddler.

Unsure whether it was the alcohol or their incessant rambling, you were starting to feel quite overwhelmed. You weren’t sure what they had seen differently while you were sitting with Frank, but you knew that the man had to have had a sinister intention for occupying you.

“Wait, wait,” you cut them off as Luke started to scold you again. “Shouldn’t we go find them?”

They both stared at you for a moment before bursting into obnoxious laughter. You weren’t sure what the joke was, but you were confident you wouldn’t find it funny even if you did.

If Sylus had gone off alone with the unfriendly man, then surely he would need the three of you there, too.

“You’re lucky you still have a tongue in your mouth to be able to make dumbass suggestions like that,” Luke sneered, still shaking from his chuckles.

You clenched your fists at your sides, irritated by their insults. How were you supposed to know that Golden Teeth was an enemy? You weren’t exactly well versed in the good and the bad when it came to attending events in the N109 Zone.

If they were that concerned, they could have remained beside you.

Each minute that passed without a visual on Sylus felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three minuscule minutes went by before he emerged from a door beside the bar.

His facial expression gave away absolutely nothing, but the red split in his lip did. You swallowed as you watched his tongue peak out to run over the small laceration, followed by the pad of his thumb. It disappeared in an instant at his touch.

You began to walk towards him, curious about what the hell had just happened, and if Frank was still breathing. Before you could open your mouth, however, he bent at the waist the second he got close to you, his shoulder connecting with your stomach as he hauled you off of your feet.

“What the—what the fuck are you doing?!”

He did not dignify you with a response as he stormed towards the exit, his solid arm squeezing your knees into his ribs as you started to assault his back. 

“Put. Me. Down,” you grit between harsh slaps to his back. You might as well have been flicking his ear for all the difference it was making.

He carried you straight out of the building and towards the matte black saloon car Kieran had driven you all in earlier that evening. You were utterly furious and embarrassed, doing everything in your power to wriggle out of his hold.

“I can walk!”

Sylus snorted. Snorted, like it was funny. No humour lay in his tone as he spoke, though. “Well that’s a little hard to believe.”

You whacked his muscled back again. “Meaning?!”

He yanked open the back door of the car, practically dropping you into it on your back. You felt it again, at the worst possible time.

That flutter of lust in your core.

It was something about the way he stood over you as you panted from the physical exertion of trying to fight his spine. He must’ve been able to see up the short skirt of your dress, and you hoped to god he didn’t spot any indication of your arousal on the cherry red thong you were wearing.

“Meaning, you had plenty of opportunity to use these apparent walking skills when your safety was threatened,” he growled, moving your legs so he could slam the car door, not interested in anything you had to say back.

You huffed as you pushed down on the unfolded mass of clothes in your backpack, trying to fit them all in.

It had been hours since you all got back from the absolute disaster of a night, and you had been holed up in the room you were occupying since then. Part of you expected Sylus to come and explain what the hell his problem had been, but he didn’t.

The longer you sat and dwelled on it, the more you wanted to go home. You only came to stay because he’d asked you to attend the event with him. He hadn’t mentioned that you were expected to stay by his side like an obedient dog. Nor had he bothered to mention the types of people you were to avoid.

Not only were you pissed at him, but you were pissed at the fact that he’d made you feel a certain way. Who in their right mind gets aroused by a man embarrassing you by hauling you out of a room full of people—likely with your bare ass on show. 

Scientists would have a field day with your brain.

And although you hated to admit it, it wasn’t the first time you had felt that familiar feeling of lust at his touch. The last time you had stayed, you had to relieve yourself in the shower after training with him in the ring. Every inch of him was sculpted with perfect precision, almost as if an architect had dedicated their life to working on his blueprint.

If you were being honest, you weren’t bothered about the event he wanted you to attend when he’d asked you to join him. You just wanted to see him.

But at the end of the day, you had no idea where you belonged in his world. In Linkon, a friendly face buying you a drink wasn’t something to be feared. It was exhausting having to recluse whenever you accompanied him anywhere. 

The clasps of your bag struggled as you tried and failed to clip them together. You had no idea how you were getting back to your apartment, but you were confident in your ability to just suck it up and figure it out. Even if you had to trek there in your most expensive pair of (uncomfortable) stilettos.

You slipped your feet out of them, throwing your barely closed bag over your shoulders before picking the silky, red shoes up. They’re far too noisy against Sylus’s marble floor for you to be able to slip out without being accosted by him or the twins.

Without so much as a squeak, you gently turned the doorknob, pulling the door slowly to peer down the long hallway. Nobody could be seen or heard, so you slipped out and carefully closed the door behind you to not draw suspicion.

You hurried yourself down the hallway to get to the front door, stopping dead in your tracks as you turned the corner. 

Mephisto was perched outside of Sylus’s bedroom door, his beady red eyes on you in an instant. Like hell was the glorified magpie going to let you pass him without kicking up a fuss.

“If you keep your scrap-metal beak shut, I’ll be out of your feathers. Got it?” Your voice was a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.

He did not make a sound as you slowly passed him, keeping your eyes on his as he followed your every move across the luxury floors. By the time you had passed him, you were fully convinced that he was willing to let you go. The minute you took your eyes off him, though, he started to screech.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Oh for fuck sake! You couldn’t just work with me for once in your—”

“CAW!”

“I wasn’t finished you squawking little—”

You were cut off by Sylus’s door opening, his unamused expression still ever present on his face. He was freshly showered, silver hair dripping onto the bare expanse of chest showing between the lapels of his bathrobe. You had to swallow a noise that rudely made its way up from your suddenly dry throat.

Eyes as red as the rubies around your neck flickered between Mephisto, you, and the bag over your shoulder. He clicked his fingers, sending his winged companion away.

“I was under the impression that you were above cussing out mechanical crows,” he drawled, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

It wasn’t clear whether or not he was joking, considering the less-than humorous look on his face. Either way, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.”

“I can see that,” he responded immediately, nodding towards your barely closed bag. “And how, exactly, are you planning to get there?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught sneaking out to a party. “I’ll figure that out myself.”

Holding his cold stare wasn’t usually a challenge for you, but you found yourself desperate to look away. You had compared Frank’s domineering aura to Sylus’s earlier, but it didn’t actually come close to the man before you. 

You had seen men and women strapped with weapons that could swiftly eliminate even the most dangerous of Wanderers cower at the sight of Sylus. He was the true definition of a force to be reckoned with.

He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, his hand slipping into the pocket of his robe. “You’re not leaving without a ride home. You’re over the limit, and if I wanted you to be skinned alive walking through the N109 Zone, I’d open the front door for you.”

“You give me a lift then,” you rebuked, your patience already thinning.

Sylus offered half a shrug. “I could, but I don’t make a habit of going out half naked.” You hoped to the lord that he didn’t see your shiver at the fact that he was only concealed by a thin robe. “You’re welcome to ask Luke and Kieran.”

“And where are they?”

The corner of his lip curled so subtly that you almost didn’t see it. “Out.”

You growled at his relaxed attitude. Why the hell would he even suggest it if they weren’t around?

“They’re cleaning up a mess of mine,” he answered as if you had asked.

A chill ran through you. “Would that mess happen to be Frank’s body?”

Sylus turned away from you, strolling into his room. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you followed him in, suddenly wanting answers.

“Well?”

Dark tendrils coiled around the bag on your back, gently tugging it down your arms and carrying it out of the room, closing the door on the way out. You had a feeling your belongings were heading back to where you just came from.

Sylus fiddled with the sleek black turntable in the corner of the room, carefully setting a vinyl record into place. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d hauled you into the car.

“You’re aware of the saying, right? Curiosity killed…” he trailed off, putting the pin in its place upon the record.

You frowned at his back. “The cat?”

He blew out a short laugh, not an ounce of humour in it. “The crook.”

He turned back towards you, slowly making his way to where you were a little rigid by the door. There was that feeling again. That you were a worm in the sights of a crow.

“Tell me,” he crooned, stopping right where your forehead would connect with his heart if you took half a step forward. “What was it about Frank that had you feeling adventurous, hm?”

You forced yourself to look up at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how close you were. “What do you mean?”

“Kitten, I can read you like the nervous wrecks who attempt to double cross me. Don’t play dumb, it does not suit you.”

His eyes were fierce and serious, but you hadn’t a clue what he was getting at. Your silence only lasted a few seconds before he leaned towards your shoulder.

“What was it that attracted you to him?” He whispered so quietly that you just about heard him over the thrum of your rapid heartbeat.

Attracted to him? In the approximately two minutes you had spent with Frank at the bar, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him. 

You stepped away, your back connecting with the door immediately. Even with the slight gap, his look over your much smaller form was rather harrowing. And yet you felt that unhelpful flutter in your core again, so strong that your knees wobbled in place. What was this man doing to you?

“Did you hit your head this morning?” You bit back, clenching the muscles of your thighs tightly to relieve some of the pressure there. “You think that I had an eye for him because he bought me a drink?”

He closed the gap again, his large palm resting against the door right beside your head. “Why else would you not walk away when you were quite blatantly warned to do so.”

“Maybe because I was tired of—” you cut yourself off before you could finish. 

You had told yourself that the reason you hadn’t wanted to remain at his side was because you were tired of watching people practically tremble in his presence.

Now, though, you weren’t sure that was the sole reason.

Every woman in that damn room had an eye on him, and it had made you feel…strange. You weren’t typically a jealous person by nature, but tonight had proved you capable of such emotions. In fact, you were practically tearing the heads off of beautiful women in your mind, wanting to punish them all for having the audacity to look at him like he was a piece of meat.

Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “Tired of…?”

You huffed rather childishly, turning your head away from his hard stare. “Of the attention that certain people were giving you,” you begrudgingly admit. 

There was no use lying to him, since falsely having him believe that you were actually interested in Frank seemed like a sure way to get on his bad side—if you weren’t already on it.

With his hand that wasn’t resting beside your head, he took a hold of your jaw, carefully turning your face back to his. “And would these people happen to be women?”

You merely shrugged, having no desire to discuss the matter any further.

Sylus studied you for a moment, contemplating. He looked as if he couldn’t decide between scolding you or shaking some sense into you. You were almost shocked that he didn’t go straight to mocking you, but you had an inclination that he had felt the same thing whilst you sat at the bar with one of his enemies.

He dropped his head beside yours again, murmuring in your ear. “If you wanted my attention, sweetie, I would have given it to you.”

You almost moaned, his breath tickling the sensitive column of your throat. Lifting a hand, you grabbed onto his wrist to steady yourself, only for him to pull out of your grasp immediately.

A flash of fear shot through you at his sudden rejection, but it was almost immediately soothed as he pried your fingers open enough to slip his own between them, pinning your hand to the door. 

“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you could have been in tonight?” It was a growling question that didn’t require an answer. You felt your breath pick up in pace, the swollen peaks of your nipples skimming the top of his abs every time your chest heaved. “Frank has been known to have a string of disappearing acquaintances. He wouldn’t hesitate to maim you out of spite to me.”

You shuddered at the thought of being so close to a killer. And yet the proximity between you and Sylus did not give you that same feeling of dread. You know that he has killed many before, and despite not having his death confirmed or denied just yet, you knew that Frank was now somewhere in the afterlife, hopefully being accosted by the people he had killed.

You knew, but you had to ask.

“Did you kill him because I was speaking to him?”

Sylus shook his head, pulling back just enough that he could look you in the eyes. “I killed him because it was long overdue. I’ve had men who have been sent out to keep an eye on that bastard, and many of them did not return,” he explained quietly, a hint of frustration in his tone. “If I had taken my eyes off of you for a second—”

He audibly swallowed, cutting himself off. You could easily guess what he was going to say, and clearly the mere thought of it was haunting him.

A wash of guilt fell over you. If you had just walked away when you were told, he wouldn’t have had to do anything.

“He wasn’t going to take one more person from me,” he finally gritted.

That very thought should have filled you with dread. It should have made you sick to your stomach.

But the mention of his eyes on you for every second you weren’t beside him caused a spreading warmth to grow in your chest. Despite the situation you hadn’t realised you were in, you had been safe that whole time under his watch.

“I would have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair,” you said, only half joking to diffuse the tension between you.

He didn’t seem amused by it at all, his grip on your hand tightening. “Like I said, kitten. If I wanted you dead, I’d be seeing you out of the front door instead of standing here, resisting urges I have no right to have.”

Your thighs pressed together again at his whispered confession. His eyes always warned of danger, but they were gleaming with desire. 

You were not losing out on him tonight.

With the most tender of touches, you ran the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest with your free hand, feeling his steady breath falter. He swallowed thickly, suffocating your hand in his against the door. 

“I apologise,” he whispered gruffly, his head dipping to where your collarbone was visible to him in the neckline of your dress. 

You shuddered as his breath danced across your clammy skin, droplets from his wet hair falling against your chest. “For what?”

“Handling you the way I did.” His lips were mere inches away from you, and it took all your strength not to grab the back of his head and slam his face into your chest. “The thought of that bastard doing something—”

“Kiss me.”

Sylus didn’t give you a chance to cringe at your own slip up as every inch of him pressed you into the door, his mouth attacking your pulse with expert precision. You let loose a shaky moan, your nails scratching down his rock hard pectoral.

Every ounce of animosity you had been harbouring since the event dissipated at his touch. He was rough and unrelenting, his indistinguishable power overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible.

“Lower,” you breathed softly, wanting him everywhere.

You weren’t sure how he heard you, but he obeyed your hushed command. In one swift movement, his free arm clutched you around your waist, lifting you up. Both of your legs perched perfectly either side of him, suffocating his waist.

With his newfound access to your already exposed chest, he immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the thin layer of skin over your collarbones. The pain of sharp teeth sinking into flesh married faultlessly with undeniable pleasure, causing you to writhe against him. 

A firm bulge pressed against your heat as he ground himself against your cunt. Even with the sensation being drastically muted by the material of your thong and his robe being between you, you appreciated the absolute weapon he was concealing beneath his nightly attire.

“Ah—” you gasped, the soft sound immediately erased by a sharp hiss as he sunk his teeth into your skin again.

His mouth slowly travelled down to the tops of your breasts, where he pressed uncharacteristically tender kisses to each one. You were a wriggling, desperate mess already, but he was still sane enough to take a moment to study your chest.

“I have always appreciated art,” he crooned.

He removed the arm that held you around your waist, purely holding you up with his lower body alone. Your breasts were granted a sweet release as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, pulling the material out of his way like a man depraved.

It was the look in his eye. A million compliments that didn’t need to be put into words. You could see them. Hell, you could feel the utter captivation radiating from him.

Your free hand smoothed over the delicious muscle of his shoulders before curling around the back of his neck. With a swift yank of his head, his mouth locked onto one of your firm nipples. Back arching off of the door, you cried out as his tongue swirled and flicked the sensitive area, leaving you a little mindless.

He finally let go of your hand, hungry to feel more of you. One hand pushed up your thigh, the skirt of your dress riding up with the movement before he squeezed your hip. The other cupped your neglected breast, thumb brushing over your pert nipple as if it were the joystick on a gaming console. Up, down, left, right, and all over again. 

It was almost too much, and yet you still wanted more. He ground himself against you again, your head slamming back against the door with a reverberating thud. You felt it this time. The thickness of his solid shaft, followed by the damp sensation of your arousal.

You needed him there. Now.

“Mm—” you mumbled pathetically, unable to get a word out.

Sylus chuckled against the breast he was feasting on. “What was that, sweetie?”

All you could do was wriggle yourself against his cock, hoping to convey a message to him without the need to trip over your words. You wanted to swallow up every inch of it with your warmth, leaving it glowing like a damn firefly with the glistening sheen of your essence.

“I know that pretty mouth of yours can talk,” he whispered against the column of your throat. “Tell me what you want.”

Your mouth was dry, like the space between your legs had stolen your saliva to lubricate you further.

“More.”

Sylus clicked his tongue. “There are nicer ways to ask.”

You knew he wasn’t being serious, but you would have begged on your knees at this point. He had to have felt your legs trembling against his waist, aching for him to fill you.

“Since you haven’t specified…” he began, pulling his head back completely.

For a second, you thought you had actually irritated him. There was a darkness in his stare, a hunger. You couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter once the dark tendrils of his Evol snaked around your arms, dragging them up above your head. Your eyes widened.

Was he going to leave you tied up here?

“Do you trust me, sweetie?”

Any sane person being restrained against a door by the literal epitome of bad news himself would have frantically shook their head.

But you didn’t. You trusted him with every damn crevice of your soul.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He brought up a hand to stroke your side before hooking it under your thigh, along with the other one. One swift lift had you hurtling upwards, as if you weighed no more than a spaniel puppy.

Your legs were quickly on his shoulders, securing him a front row seat to your soaked thong. Getting any wetter had to be impossible, but your position was serving to give it a good try. Wrists tightly secured above your head, your legs wrapped around his neck, and his warm breath fanning over your damp thighs.

No throne in the most lavish palace on earth would be more tempting than this seat of yours.

His crimson eyes flickered up to your face, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze. “Is this where you want me?”

You nodded rapidly before his hand came up to hold your jaw, halting your wordless answer.

“Words please, kitten,” he requested.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sylus.”

He grinned, an unnerving and yet exciting sight. Wasting no time, he gripped the flimsy material of your cheap thong, tearing it at the seams to grant himself access to your bare cunt.

There was no teasing. No small pecks to your inner thighs. Not even a warning before his hot, balmy tongue lapped up a line of your juices through your folds, slowly dragging over the bundle of nerves nestled within. It took him no time at all to figure out where that heavenly little mound was, as if he knew your body like the back of his veiny hand.

Teeth. Tongue. Lips. All three of them fighting brutally for their moment on your clit, as if he couldn’t figure out which to use first. Your brain could hardly keep up with the flitting between this and that. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop.

Your legs tightened around his head in a bone-crushing squeeze. The suffocation only served to push him further, like he was fuelled by the possibility of having his jaw crushed like a damn walnut between your thighs.

“I could think of worse ways to go,” he growled against your hole, nose buried deeply into your folds to inhale your scent.

He pressed further into you, his tongue penetrating you with a greedy lick down your plush walls. Your hips jolted of their own accord at the sensation. He was your puppet master, making you grind and flinch on demand with his calculated actions.

The more his tongue slid in and out of you—the tip of his nose perfectly hitting your clit every time—the more of him you wanted inside of you. 

Gone were your soft, airy moans. You were crying out to whoever would listen, announcing to the world beyond the walls that you were being fucking devoured by the most feared mouth in the N109 Zone.

A mouth that could bring grown men to their trembling knees with one mere bark of an order.

You were drunk on it.

He slowly withdrew his tongue, immediately swallowing. “Like candy,” he murmured.

He licked at his lips, eyes trained on the concoction of his saliva and your fluids with awe. His hand shifted from where it had still been gripping your thigh, the soft pads of his fingers tracing circles around your hole for lubrication.

“Can you handle them?” He didn’t look up as he asked, fixated on the patterns he was repeatedly drawing through your folds.

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

He clicked his tongue. “Words.”

“Yes.”

He seemed to make quite the habit of just diving in as soon as he had permission. In one swift push, he impaled you on his lengthy index finger, his knuckles pressing against your pelvic bone.

You cried out towards the ceiling. “Fuck!” 

“You must’ve had some pretty disappointing experiences down here, sweetie,” he purred. “You’re so very tight.”

Every muscle in the lower half of your body was quivering with need, your hips unable to still themselves. He wasn’t wrong, nobody had ever truly left you gasping or crying out to the heavens.

You had a feeling he was about to change that.

Slowly, he dragged the digit back out, making sure to scrape down on your walls as he did. He began a steady rhythm, plunging his finger in and out of you lazily. His eyes held a repertoire of fascination, as if he’d been dreaming up this moment for quite some time.

He didn’t rush to add the second digit, but as soon as he did, you lost all sense of reality. The curling and pounding was precise and calculated, every brush of your neglected g-spot extracting a whimpering moan from you.

“Ngh…oh fuck,” you managed through a shuddering breath.

“Good girl,” he praised huskily. “I want to feel you come undone. Can you do that for me, darling?”

If he kept talking to you like that, it was going to happen a lot sooner than he would expect. The mental challenge of holding back was near impossible, and seemed to be displeasing him.

He picked up his pace. Firm, brutal bucks of his hand giving you every push towards that edge that you were trying to keep a distance from. You were yanking at the tendrils gripping your wrists, crying out pathetically at the sheer velocity of his fingers.

“I hope you’re not holding back on me,” he warned quietly.

He wanted you to finish. He was so very desperate to feel your release that he was practically shoving you towards it.

You couldn’t deny him.

The building pressure in your core gave out as you orgasmed, a litany of thuds marrying the sounds of your pleasured cries whilst you writhed against the door. Sylus, at the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers, became a little breathless himself. He didn’t slow his pace, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure until your very last whimper. 

By the time you had caught your breath, the restraints on your hands slowly loosened, and you expected to be put back down onto solid ground.

Instead, Sylus brought his mouth back to your folds, clearing up the aftermath of your first real orgasm. He was slow and gentle, savouring the taste like a vintage bottle of wine.

He was gentle when lowering you back to the floor, your legs trembling beneath you. You kept a hold of his arms, looking up at his hazy eyes. Anyone would think that he’d been the one on the receiving end of oral sex.

You wanted to give back. You wanted to see everything beneath his robe.

And apparently, your need was rather obvious.

“Not tonight, kitten,” he murmured, fixing your dress to cover your exposed body.

You didn’t know if you were more perplexed or hurt. Why not tonight? Did he not see you capable enough of being able to return the favour?

He brushed a strand of your unruly hair behind your ear in a contrasting manner to how he’d been handling you earlier. “I won’t know when to stop.”

You shuddered at the thought. “I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t a lie. He could bend you over the railing of the balcony for the whole city to see, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

But he wasn’t budging, the corner of his glistening lips curling upwards at your eagerness. “I don’t doubt that.” 

He leaned towards your ear, his voice a low whisper.

“But it’s going to take a lot more than my saliva and your sweet fluids to help you take me, sweetie.”

Men that love manhandling you.

Not just in bed but in general. He loves picking you up, pinning you, carrying you. He does not care if there are others around, he'll still do it. Ya'll arrive home and he picks you up, carries you to the bedroom all while your parents watch.

One time you guys were going on a walk and you were starting to get tired. You say "Baby I'm too tired. Carry me pout" jokingly but then he actually does. He carried you all the way back home, all while people were watching. He didn't care. You're his baby.

He's just so playful with you. He thinks you're so cute and adorable he can't help but pick you up and baby you. After dinner the first thing he'd do is carry you out of your chair and sit you on the counter next to the sink, and then he'll get the plates so he can wash them while you watch.

You'd be modeling some of the cute clothes you bought yourself and on the last one he'll get up and start feeling the fabric on your hips then slowly trace his hands upwards, bringing your arms up and just like that your wrists end up in his grip. And with a smirk, he goes to kiss your neck.

Playfights are always you going at it and him barely even trying and still winning. You'd either be laying on your back pinned by him or laying on your tummy with him caging you. Either way, playfights always lead to him seriously manhandling you.

Gojo Saturo, Toji Fushiguro, Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou Katsuki, Hanma Shuji, Keisuke Baji, Draken, Greed, Solf J. Kimblee, Kuroo Tetsuro, Bokuto Kotaro, Oikawa Toru, Zora Ideale, Yami Sukehiro, Ryusui Nanami, Kunigami Rensuke, Bachira Meguru

coming down — gojo satoru

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to-enemies with benefits-to?

comment here for Coming Down taglist;

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

TWs: underage use of marijuana and cigars, underage drinking, use of illegal substances, anorexia and obsessive dieting, calorie deficit, mentions of self-destructive behavior, smut in later chapters, angst, emotional manipulation and trauma, toxic friendship dynamics, self-esteem issues and body image, unresolved romantic tension, past betrayal and unrequited love, sexual harassment (implied in some interactions), foul language and explicit content, toxic romantic relationships and behavior, references to manipulation and control in relationships, most characters are morally gray, flawed, and engage in problematic behavior, complex, imperfect characters who make questionable decisions, characters often act in ways that challenge traditional moral boundaries and ethics.

THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE PERFECT AND IDOLIZED.

word count: 45,3k & more coming soon!

chapter index:

– teaser; wicked games

– chapter one; the morning

– chapter two; kissland

– chapter three; twenty eight

– chapter four: in the night

– chapter five: house of balloons

– chapter six: the knowing

– chapter seven: love in the sky

& more coming soon!

drabbles + extras:

read my character introduction HERE

meeting yumi (pending...)

why isn’t this stupid lighter working (pending...)

sangria and grindr (pending...)

& more coming soon

all drabbles can be read independently — they won’t change the story of Coming Down and don’t contain any spoilers. they’re simply here to help me push through writer's block. however, i recommend reading the chapters of season one in chronological order to avoid confusion and to fully immerse yourself in the flow of the story.

DISCLAIMER:

I do not own Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, or any other characters from Jujutsu Kaisen. They belong to Gege Akutami and the creators of Jujutsu Kaisen. In this fanfic, I simply use these characters as actors or faces for my own original characters. The personalities, actions, and events involving these characters in this story are not intended to be a realistic representation of their canon counterparts. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to the actual Jujutsu Kaisen series is purely coincidental.

all works published here are created by me (@writesvani on tumblr). i own all rights to my original works, including any written content, original characters, and plotlines. copying, redistributing, translating, or posting my works on any other social media without my explicit permission is strictly prohibited. all rights reserved.

CITY OF STARS UNIVERSE

❝ Where all their dreams came true, except not in the way they all expected... ❞

🏁 City of Stars is a Formula 1 AU (Alternate Universe) in where all drivers (except one of them) will not be drivers, but have any other job and a completely different life as well 📚 All stories will be connected between them, and the different characters will have appearances and cameos in all of them. You don't have to read all the stories, but it'll definitely help you in case you want to understand certain actions of said people 🏎️ As most drivers won't be drivers, we'll be having a fictional Formula 1 grid, starting on the 2023 season 📓 Taglist is open! Just DM me, tell me on the anon inbox or just comment on this post which(s) fanfic(s) will you be interested to read, and I'll tag you! 💬 You can make me your questions and comments on my inbox!

✧˖° BOOK 0.5 TILL WE MEET AGAIN Sebastian Vettel x Diana Wagner (Original Female Character) 📚 SUMMARY: Just two best friends since they were babies that decide to take the next step and take the risk, even they know that might be the end of it all 📓 TROPES: Friends to lovers, right person, wrong time 🗓️ SETTING: 2000 - 2008 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 1 BIRDS AND BEES Sebastian Vettel x Diana Wagner (Original Female Character) High School teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School teacher!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: The goodbye they said to each other 6 years later was just a lie and now, they're forced to work together. The problem? They know they're each others soulmate, even he's having an existential crisis on his late 20s, and she's not really sure if her engagement with Mark Webber is really what she wants 📓 TROPES: Workplace romance, forced proximity, friends to lovers, ex lovers, second chance 🗓️ SETTING: 2014 - 2015 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 2 THROTTLE EQUATION Oscar Piastri x Louisa Schifer (Original Female Character) McLaren Intern!Oscar Piastri x McLaren Intern!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: Being part of Formula 1 is their team, so when both Oscar and Louisa are selected among other 18 students all around Europe on the McLaren Formula 1 Team internship for the 2023 season, they know it might be a sign. However, when they're told by none other than team principal Fernando Alonso that just one of them can really get a job by the end of the season, it's when the real championship starts for them 📓 TROPES: Enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, grumpy x sunshine (reversed), workplace romance 🗓️ SETTING: 2023 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 3 FAST LANE GAMES Lando Norris x Irene Castro (Original Female Character) Content creator!Lando Norris x Videogames developer!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: Being a videogames developer, she decides to take the opportunity and take part in a contest by her favourite Twitch streamer, Lando Norris. However, it wasn't in her plans being selected because, now, she'll have to fake being a man and working side by side by on of the most content creators around the world... even when he also knows her as herself 📓 TROPES: Secret/double identity, forced proximity, friends with benefits 🗓️ SETTING: 2023 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 4 NOT A TROPE Max Verstappen x Heather Spencer (Original Female Character) Formula 1 journalist!Max Verstappen x Writer!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: Max is forced to interview Heather after his workmate calls in sick last minute. Even he doesn't like reading, she offers him to read her book and, also, dedicates it to him. Little did they know that they won't only get closer, but also he'll be the main source of inspiration to write her upcoming romance novel settled in the Formula 1 world 📓 TROPES: Slow-burn, friends to lovers, he falls first but she falls harder 🗓️ SETTING: 2023 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 5 FREE PRACTICE Mick Schumacher x Heidi Davenport (Original Female Character) McLaren driver!Mick Schumacher x PR!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: After his PR immediately left him for a better offer to represent a famous actor, and his dad leaving his manager duties to retire after he won his first Formula 1 championship, Mick finds himself having Michael's best friend and former race engineer, Sebastian Vettel, as his newest manager, as well as his very own best friend as his PR. Even when he knows that's definitely some sort of comfort for him, what he didn't know is that that comfort will end up with them expecting a baby 📓 TROPES: Friends to lovers, unwanted and secret pregnancy, secret relationship 🗓️ SETTING: 2023 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 6 NANNY ON DUTY Fernando Alonso x Natalie Hawkins (Original Female Character) McLaren Team Principal!Fernando Alonso x Nanny!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: His professional life is the best it's ever been, but his personal life is getting more and more miserable. After divorcing his wife for 20 years, Fernando finds himself not really knowing how to be by himself and, worse than that, how to really care about his 15 and 9 years old kids. Solution? Easy: try finding a nanny who can really help him without his ex wife finding out about that by trying faking a relationship with her 📓 TROPES: Fake dating, age gap, boss x employee romance 🗓️ SETTING: 2023 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 7 CADENCE OF US Charles Leclerc x Nora Laurent (Original Female Character) Pianist!Charles Leclerc x Ballet dancer!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: They're both living different lives, with different opportunities, even they're meant to live the same ones. When music and dancing make them meet during a gala, Nora's family realizes that arranging a marriage with the middle son of the Leclerc's might be the best option to help her make her life easier... even when she doesn't want to 📓 TROPES: Small town romance, forbidden love, marriage of convenience 🗓️ SETTING: 2024 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 8 I'LL SEE YOU IN THE MOVIES Carlos Sainz x Elena Márquez (Original Female Character) Cinema worker!Carlos Sainz x Debut actress!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: Going to the cinema and dreaming about getting out of a town that cuts her wings is her daily routine even when his brother's best friend, Carlos, is there. No one knows the real reason why she goes, daily, to the cinema, and spends her afternoons there until one day, Carlos sees something that makes him worry for her more than he should even when she tells him it's nothing 📓 TROPES: Brother's best friend, grumpy x sunshine, toxic relationship 🗓️ SETTING: 2024 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 9 CASE CLOSED... SORT OF George Russell x Amelie Parrish (Original Female Character) Lawyer!George Russell x PR!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: She thought leaving her job as Mick Schumacher's PR would make her life better, but he wasn't expecting having to be the right hand of one of the most problematic celebrities in the Hollywood world and, worse than that, having to work side by side with an annoying lawyer just to keep her job 📓 TROPES: Workplace romance, forced proximity, enemies to lovers 🗓️ SETTING: 2024 📌 TAGLIST:

✧˖° BOOK 10 FAR FROM FICTION Daniel Ricciardo x Edith Gauthier (Original Female Character) Actor!Daniel Ricciardo x Actress!OFC 📚 SUMMARY: They both fucked up their reputations by being stupid and doing crazy things they knew was wrong. In order to make their reputations better than they ever were, they decide to not only fake a relationship, but also fake a wedding and fake that they've been dating, secretly, for 6 out of the 9 years they've known each other 📓 TROPES: Fake marriage, fake dating 🗓️ SETTING: 2024 📌 TAGLIST:

MORE TO COME SOON!

tsunodaradio’s masterlist ⛐

❝ WHAT THE HELL, SURE. WHERE’S THE FIC? ❞

ⓘ I WRITE BEST FOR...

🟢 tsunoda, piastri, norris, hadjar, sainz, albon, russell.

🟡 hamilton, verstappen, leclerc, guanyu, stroll.

MASTERLIST —

🩵 PERSONAL FAVORITES. ⭐️ POPULAR. 🔞 MDNI.

SERIES/EVENTS.

this is: formula one milestone · requested song fics for select drivers.

soft spot mini-series · inspired by keshi's soft spot. drivers and the 'soft spot' they have for you.

GRID.

racing for your number · lando x reader x oscar, coming soon.

past lives 🩵 · carlos x reader x charles. 14.6k.

the summer you turned pretty · lando x reader x oscar. 12.2k.

miss possessive · multiple drivers, girlfriend!reader. 4.4k.

𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐, YUKI TSUNODA.

love on track · romance. coming soon.

all along there was · soulmate!reader, romance. 3k.

it’s a bad idea, right? 🔞 · second chance romance. 5.8k.

yuki’s pet diaries · girlfriend!reader, romance. smau.

love problems ⭐️ · girlfriend!reader, romance. smau.

quicksilver 🔞 · girlfriend!reader, smut. 0.8k.

it’s not hype, baby · rockstar!reader, romance. smau.

in(love) language · fluff, romance. 0.8k.

i believe in miracles · photographer!reader, romance. 2.3k.

love at first flight 🩵 · graduate student!reader, romance. 5.4k.

𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏, OSCAR PIASTRI.

an act of pure defiance ⭐️ · girlfriend!reader, fluff. 1.3k.

i hope this finds you well 🩵 · little women au, romance. 10.2k.

say it first! · ex-girlfriend!reader, romance, humor. 3.3k.

autumn leaves · girlfriend!reader, romance, fluff. 4.9k. sequel to cold coffee.

so pretty 🔞 · girlfriend!reader, smut. 1.4k.

romance isn’t dead · girlfriend!reader, romance. 1k.

cold coffee ⭐️ · café owner!reader, romance. 4.8k.

but i’ll do it for you · fluff, romance. 0.8k.

𝐋𝐍𝟒, LANDO NORRIS.

the thrill of the chase · law student!lando, romance. 3.3k.

the perfect match part one, two 🩵⭐️ · matchmaker!reader, smau.

kalamantina 🔞 · girlfriend!reader, smut. 1.5k.

a movie i’ve seen before · indie artist!reader, romance. 1.3k + smau.

only exception ⭐️ · girlfriend!reader, romance. 2.7k.

everyone wants him (that was my crime) 🩵⭐️ · girlfriend!reader, romance. smau.

unless you call tonight · pilot!reader, romance, friends with benefits. 4.3k.

sorry, chat! ⭐️ · girlfriend!reader, fluff. 0.8k.

pick your poison babe (i’m poison either way) · dj!reader, romance. 2.8k.

𝐈𝐇𝟔, ISACK HADJAR.

afterglow · underground fighter!isack, romance. 2.5k.

cupid’s chokehold · girlfriend!reader, romance. 0.7k.

not a lot (just forever) · childhood bestfriend!reader, romance. smau.

they should call you sugar · fluff, romance. 0.9k.

𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓, CARLOS SAINZ.

just to know you’re alive · ex-girlfriend!reader, angst, hurt/comfort. 2.1k.

change me at all costs 🩵 · girlfriend!reader, romance. 2.8k.

come find me 🩵 · childhood best friend!reader, angst with a happy ending. 4.4k.

𝐀𝐀𝟐𝟑, ALEX ALBON.

to be honest · girlfriend!reader, fluff. 1.4k.

something to you · fluff, romance. 0.9k.

𝐆𝐑𝟔𝟑, GEORGE RUSSELL.

the one to beat · journalist!reader, romance. 2.7k.

not what it looks like · girlfriend!reader, fluff. 0.6k.

| WORK FOR DRIVERS I DON'T REGULARLY WRITE FOR.

𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒, LEWIS HAMILTON.

a good run · ex-girlfriend!reader, angst. smau.

𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔, CHARLES LECLERC.

wonderstruck · singer!reader, romance. 4.1k.

𝐃𝐑𝟑, DANIEL RICCIARDO.

house handy · girlfriend!reader, romance. 1.6k.

loml (loss of my life) · drive to survive producer!reader, romance. 1.3k + smau.

𝐙𝐆𝟐𝟒, ZHOU GUANYU.

just call me yours · childhood crush!reader, romance. 3.2k.

request guidelines ⛐

i primarily write driver x female!reader fic. my work does not represent the drivers i write for in any way, shape, or form.

ⓘ WHAT REQUESTS ARE OKAY?

🟢 fluff, romance, angst, crack/humor. established relationships, platonic/friendly relationships, poly relationships. a range of au's i.e. bf!f1, brother!f1, husband!f1, non-driver au's (e.g. uni, other professions, etc). reqs based on media (i.e. movies, series, songs), tropes, or prompts.

🟡 smut/suggestive content, cheating/infidelity, emotional hurt/comfort, themes of grief. content for team principals/drivers not indicated above.

🔴 age gaps, character death, emotional manipulation, gender swap, sa/sh/ed, terminal illnesses, yandere. romantic content for any drivers below 20 y/o.

📟 BOX, BOX! · MAKE THAT REQUEST! CURRENTLY: CLOSED

Crescent Moons | Gumiho!Lee Soohyuk | [s]

Requested prompts: ➢ “Your heart is beating so fast right now.” ➢ Scaring them ➢ Supernatural/Monster!AU ➢ You have always wanted to caress every monster. ➢ I confuse instinct for desire - isn’t bite also touch? Word count: 4.7k Warnings: suggestive, blood & blood drinking, mentions of scarring ♫ The Fox's Wedding - Hatsune Miku & Gumi ♫ Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

The sun is setting, the evening getting darker. Purples and blues paint the sky, making it difficult to see. Therefore once you reach the fork in the road, you opt to walk the path along a meadow where the sky remains visible, and once the sun disappears, hopefully the moon will guide your way. 

It’s quiet, the birds don’t sing and neither do insects perform their music. You’ve been taught that nature is never silent. If it is, you need to turn back to where you came from and run.

You don’t. 

The unnatural silence nor the darkness stop you, you walk on, prompted by your curiosity. You wonder whether he’ll make the joke about the cat should you meet him. You think you might not, or maybe he’s just taking his sweet time.

The moon is weak. Its light does not suffice to guide you and you stumble. It’d be wise to turn back while you still can, but you’ve made enough bad choices today, so you keep going.

You keep going even as the silence deepens, so much so it’s deafening. You’re almost tempted to hum to yourself, if only to make sure you can still hear. To feel something other than the cold.

And you keep going even when you feel a sudden rush of air brush against your body. Not a leaf moves, there’s no breeze. Then it happens again and you hesitate. The third time there’s something solid nudging your body, featherlight and if you weren’t so hyper aware of your surroundings, you might’ve dismissed it as hallucination. It’s scary, of course. Nothing is quite as terrifying as trusting blindly - because what if you’re wrong. What if this is not him.

Your heart races in your chest, breathing becoming fast and shallow. Your body is ready to attack or to flee. Yet your mind remains curious above all, strong enough to will your body to keep walking slowly.

You don’t stop even as the blue fox fires appear and illuminate the path. You let them hover closer, trusting their wielder not to harm you. That might be the worst of your today’s choices yet.

“If they touch you, you’ll be burned to a crisp in a blink of an eye,” the gumiho speaks, his deep voice resonating somewhere above your head in the trees, “Body and soul.”

“Are they warm?” you smile, hand reaching towards one of the little flames. Despite the bravado, you’re trembling. There’s a hiss, and the fires disappear. All but a few that float around the figure you’ve been searching for.

He looks scary in the darkness like this, sharp features illuminated by fire only. Yet his eyes are as warm as ever - as warm as a fox's eyes can be.

“It’s nice to see you,” you greet the spirit, standing still. You never dare to make the first move.

“Clearly,” he scoffs, “Did you miss me so much you’d risk your life?”

You note the angry undertone in his voice. Soohyuk may try to seem cold - and he can be, sometimes - but most of the time all the complexities of his words and actions make you wonder whether it’s real. Maybe that’s the mask he chose for himself, or maybe that’s him. Either way, you live.

“I was just asking, I didn’t plan on touching the flame,” you sooth, smiling at him gently, “But I did miss you.”

He perks up, the black fuzzy ears on top of his head moving cutely. You don’t comment on it, though, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it. His tail is barely visible in the darkness too, further blending in with the dark robe he’s wearing. You wouldn’t notice it if he didn’t slowly sway it to the other side of his body.

“Did you?” he hums, and he seems almost satisfied to hear that, “The little human got lonely? How’s that, when you’re surrounded by so many others.” You watch as he makes a couple steps closer to you, allowing you to see him better. 

At first you thought he must be shy, talking to you without showing his face the first couple times you’ve crossed paths. Now you’re not that sure. It’s just as well possible he simply likes acting mysterious and playing with you. You must admit he does a great job keeping you on edge.

“There is such a thing as missing a particular person,” you answer, “Don’t you remember?” If he wants push and pull, you might as well play along. He smirks, circling you like a hawk. His fingers dance playfully along your bare arm as he passes behind you.

It’s especially nerve wracking, not being able to see him. And you know he takes pleasure in that.

“I’m not one for sentiment,” he shares, dipping his head to speak right into your ear. You doubt it. It’s yet another foolish act, to try to analyze his behavior and make assumptions about his true character, but you’re not afraid to make mistakes. You’re biased too, you admit, however it’s impossible not to be when the subject in question is Soohyuk.

“Then you’ll just have to take my word for it,” you shrug, suppressing a shiver as he finally stands in front of you, looking down into your eyes. His fingers slip down your arm, curling around your wrist to press on your pulse point. He studies you, tilting his head slightly for a second. Your heart is beating rapidly, your breathing signals fear too. But you’re not afraid.   

"You should be careful. There's more of my kind roaming around than you know," he tells you as he lets go of you. 

"I thought you said you were a solitary kind, and this is your domain, isn't it?" you ask. You don't dare suggest it should be safe for you then, because it isn't.

"Solitary doesn't mean we don't crave company, occasionally," he sends you a playful look. “Or that we don’t like causing mischief, provoke each other.”

“You should watch your tongue,” you hum, returning the playfulness written on his face, “If you don’t, you might make it sound like some rogue fox killing me would be asking for trouble, not a dinner invitation.” 

“Wouldn’t it?” he wonders, “Other humans might come look for you and disturb me.” You laugh. You can’t take him seriously when he observes your reactions so closely. It’s almost like he wants you to take offense at his nonchalance. Then again, he is a trickster spirit. You never know whether he means his words or not.

“I’ll be careful,” you promise, “You made me swear only you would be allowed to feast on me anyway.” It’s his turn to laugh. The sound used to be tainted with malice, and perhaps it still lingers somewhere, but lately it just seems relaxed. Comfortable.

“Did I?” he tries to recollect. Truth be told, he doesn’t remember these details. With eons of memories and only so much will to collect them, he needs to choose wisely which to keep. And these words, this promise, it didn’t seem important back then. “Is that what you came here for? To be my dinner? What would you offer me to feast on, hm?”

“My body,” you answer, watching Soohyuk watch you. His eyes scan your figure as they did so many times before. Always with the same hunger. He licks his lips.

“And if that’s not enough?” he challenges. Even if his face remains stoic, his tail betrays him. It flows behind his body, but its tip is curling from one side to another. What is it that he’s feeling that won’t allow him to relax?

“Then my flesh,” you offer, “My heart, if you’d accept it.” His eyes squint, darkness threatening to overtake them before the usual teasing glint returns. 

He moves faster than you can see then, and when you focus on him again, he’s so close. He swoops in front of you, his hands embracing your body so you can’t escape, can’t even take a step back. You wouldn’t try anyway, but it’s comfortable to have him hold you. He’s warm, and you might have underestimated the chill of the night.

"Ah ah ah, love," he chides as he tilts your head up with his fingers, "Haven't you heard? Foxes like to snack on livers."

He holds you gently, one hand on the small of your back, the other trailing down until it’s absentmindedly drawing patterns on the right side of your torso, just under your breast. Where your liver is.

He says that, but you know any piece of your flesh would satisfy him.

All the books you’ve read said that the gumiho are evil beings, man-eaters. Sometimes it could pay off to believe fairy tales.  

You try to even out your breathing, but you were never good at controlling how your body reacts. Much less around him. You know you’re breathing ridiculously quickly, shallow breaths filling your lungs with his scent. The fox seems to enjoy it, watching you with a glint in his eyes. You’ve learned he likes to study all your reactions closely. It’s almost eerie, the way he’s aware of the effect he has on you, what the tiniest touch or any single word does to you.

He knows what to expect. So he’s already smirking, one sharp fang pulling on his lip, when you jump slightly as he caresses your bare ankle with his tail. He steadies you as you grab onto his clothes, pulling you closer until your chests are almost touching. His hand is still separating you, stroking from your ribcage to the center of your chest, resting there.

“Your heart is beating so fast right now,” he says with a voice that doesn’t match his expression. He looks playful, almost teasing, but his voice is soft and betrays his inner feeling of wonder. Affection, almost. “Are you scared?”

“You scared me before,” you chuckle, a little breathy, “But I’m not scared of you. You should know that already.”

“Prove it,” the challenge is whispered as tenderly as his question earlier. 

You smile up at him, letting go of his clothes to lay your hands on his chest. He’s doing it again, you notice. Standing straighter, posture tense like a warrior ready to strike. You don’t know where his tail is, only that it lingers somewhere around your legs. He’s tripped you like that a couple times before, and while there is a possibility of him doing it again right now, you doubt he will.

You lean closer, but as you do, you feel his claws extend. Their sharp tips dig into the flesh of your chest only slightly, nowhere near enough to so much as tear your clothes, even if it'd be very easy for him to do. His eyes remain stoic, merely observing. Playing games as always. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and maybe you should’ve learned. Maybe you’ll wish you did.

Without hesitation, or anything that he could consider a warning sign, you lean further into him, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw. There’s pain, only for a second. You hear fabric being ripped, and in the back of your mind you realize you’ll miss this piece. You feel as your skin dents, and then the tips of his claws puncture the tissue and stab into the layer underneath. But as quickly as it all happens, he also pulls his hand away. Only five crescents where blood begins to pool left as a memory of his touch.

It stings a little. Then again, you’ve cut yourself deeper when cooking. Is it that you’re that bad of a cook or is he deliberately avoiding hurting you? 

Now it’s you holding him, his hands wrapping around your wrists with utmost tenderness as he signals for you to let him go. His eyes fall to the front of your shirt, a couple red specks appearing. It’s only bleeding lightly. The cuts are not even that deep. So why does he look so panicked for a second before he blinks the feeling away?

He could easily free himself, your fingers are merely tracing his jaw and cheeks. Yet he doesn’t dare to part from your touch. His eyes glare at you, yet their fire is extinguished.

“Now you look like you’re scared,” you say to him gently, not missing the way his gaze hardens for a second. His ears twitch on top of his head. Perhaps you’re being too cruel. You know a lot about his kind, he’s explained enough to you. You know that what you’ve done was dangerous, after all you feel the blood trickling down your stomach. And with the way he visibly tries to hold his breath and not sniff around, you wonder whether perhaps you really will regret your actions.

“Foxes are unpredictable,” he’s told you once, “We’re always hungry. Blood drives us crazy.”

“Why would you do that?” he says, voice on the edge between fragile and hungry. But he’s made that joke enough - that you could very well end up in his bed or on his plate. So far he’s always let you go. Maybe you’re getting tired of that.

“Didn’t you say so yourself?” you smile gently, fingers never ceasing to caress his face, “That once I approach a fox of my own will, I must be ready to embrace death?”

Soohyuk hums, remembering the memory faintly. That was when he had no expectation of you ever coming back to this rarely traveled road after he appeared in front of you, much less of meeting you time and time again, and then the impossibility of… well, perhaps that’s better not said.

“Why lean into it?” he inquires, his ears twitching again. Remembering their softness, you long to touch them. They’re sensitive too. Maybe what you really long for is any sense of control. Maybe you just hope to see him vulnerable too.

“I was curious what will happen,” you admit, hands sliding down to his neck. He growls quietly, a soft rumble in his chest. Why do you risk so much this evening? You’re not sure yourself. “And what you will do.”

Your hands wrap around his neck. Not enough to choke him, but you’re surprised he lets you anyway. Perhaps he’s curious too. You trace the outline of his windpipe with your thumbs, grazing his Adam's apple with your nails. You still don’t use any pressure in your touches.

“And what do you think I did?” he says. You can feel the vibrations of his voice in his throat. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” you chuckle softly, “I think you got scared. Just for a second.”

“And then what?” he muses. Much like you did, he also leans forward. You follow the movement, never allowing your hands to press on his neck. Your lips quirk up, eyes falling from his gaze to your hands. He offers you his vulnerability. Nonetheless, even in this position it seems like you’re just a helpless prey. You run your thumb over his Adam’s apple, acknowledging his gesture before letting your hands slide back to his hair. You won’t hurt him. 

“Then you wanted to reach deeper, didn’t you?” you whisper, pulling yourself closer to him. He lets you, his own hands falling to your waist and wrapping around you. “You wanted to hold my beating heart in your hand.”

“Why would I want that?” he asks lowly, his lips brushing against your ear in this new position. If you a tremble didn’t pass through your body at his voice, it would at the light scratch of his claws on the small of your back.

“Because it’s the nature of foxes,” you murmur, “To hunger, to crave human flesh. Or maybe you just want to feel someone so close and so intimately you don’t know how to go about it any other way.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?” you hear the playfulness in his voice, but the caution too. It’s comforting. You close your eyes and lean on him more.

“Why would it? It’s you. It’s your nature, it’s just how it should be,” your hands travel up, carding through his hair until they brush against the base of his ears. He purrs, resting more of his weight on you. You’re careful, only delicately stroking the black fur of his ears with slow motions. “You warned me. That’s already more than I could ask for. Being scared of you would be just like being scared of the rest of the world. Anything I do or encounter in this life might get me killed. You’re at least honest about it.” He scoffs.

“It’s really more like poking a sleeping tiger,” he counters, “You’re bound to get eaten.”

“Then why’d you get scared?” you hum, a faint smile on your lips when you feel his body tense. It passes so quickly you’d miss it if he wasn’t leaning on you as much as he is. You feel the muscles moving his ears strain with effort for them to stay still. “You never once denied it.”

“What does it matter anyway?” his voice is light, unconcerned, “Haven’t I told you before? Everything’s just a plaything for foxes.”

“You don’t get attached to playthings,” you almost sound like you’re scolding him, “And you can’t get scared if you’re not attached.”

“What do you know, little human?” he huffs, “You’re still so young. You don’t know about the world.”

“Perhaps,” you accept. He might be right, or he might be defensive. Either way, you allow it. You let go of him too, giving him the freedom to pull away. He does eventually, after a few more seconds.

“What you’re doing is dangerous,” he warns again. His arms remain wrapped around your waist. “It will get you killed.”

“Eaten?” you smile. He watches you, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he grins right back, self-assured.

“Naturally,” he agrees, “You can never know what’s going on in a fox’s mind. Especially in one that’s clouded with the scent of human blood.”

“I can’t,” you admit, “Tell me? Teach me?”

His lips twist in a smirk. His eyes fall to the crimson patch on your chest and he raises his hand, using it to cover the spot. He pushes only gently, but it makes you grimace anyway.

Then, suddenly, he smooths his robe back and fixes his posture. Without breaking eye contact, he kneels in front of you. It surprises you, and he chuckles lowly at your reaction. He doesn’t let you step away, both hands holding you in place with a firm grip on your waist.

“Don’t run away from your lesson, little one,” he scolds this time, “You asked me to teach you, after all.”

You relax quickly. This is what you talked about. It’s just the way he is. It’s his nature to be unpredictable, and you accept it unconditionally. You nod at him, telling him you’re ready to listen.

“Some part of me wants to tear you apart,” he sighs, nuzzling into your chest, ruining your clothes further, “And the other wants to heal you.”

“I can imagine the pleasure,” a purr rumbles in his chest as he speaks. You feel it in your fingertips as you run your hands over his back. “Maybe I’d shift into a fox. Snuggle to your bleeding chest and soak my fur with your blood as I lap it up.”

“Perhaps I’d eat your liver first,” he continues, his voice getting thoughtful, if only for a second, “Then your lungs, the intestines, until you’re hollow. I’d crawl inside you, curl up there and sleep peacefully.” Your hands move higher, playing with his hair as he speaks. He’s rubbed his face against your chest enough for his face to be decorated with streaks of your blood when he looks up. His eyes are so dark and wide, almost entirely black. He’s not trying to cover his fangs anymore. You can’t decide whether he’s looking at you like a fool in love or a lunatic about to devour you.

“It’d be so warm. So safe,” he whispers while looking straight into your eyes, “After so many centuries, I’d feel at peace.”  

You almost pity him. Such a powerful being, centuries or millennia old, kneeling in front of you. Your hand falls from his hair to his face, brushing away stray strands with all the love you have for him. You brush away the blood too, collecting it on your thumb before offering it to him, the digit resting on his lip for just a moment before he sucks it into his mouth. His eyes close, brows furrow, and when he lets go, he sighs as if he’s feeling pleasure. Yet he looks like he’s in so much pain.

“Why don’t you do that, then?” you ask, nothing but genuine curiosity and sympathy lacing your words. The gumiho leans into your hand that lingers near his face. Sometimes he really does resemble a little fox. Even his ears flatten against his head. You can’t resist running your free hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Then you rest your hand on top of his head, carefully stroking the rim of one of his black fuzzy ears.

“What if I’m just confused?” he hums, nudging his nose against your hand, asking for more attention. It’s so strange to see him like this. Almost like he’s at your mercy, when it’s really the other way around.

“Confused about what?” you ask, gently stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. He enjoys your touch for a beat longer before his eyes open again and meet yours. You remember a biology lesson you’ve had years ago.

Foxes are predators.

“About the obvious, my dear,” he says, patiently, as if it really should be clear to you. His hands travel from your hips, up towards your waist and higher still. All the way up to where the fabric of your top was torn. His gaze turns questioning. Wordlessly, you give him your consent. 

His fingers curl around the fabric before he tears it in half, cleanly from top to the bottom. He smirks at the gasp that falls from your lips. You shiver as the night air envelops your bare skin. Strangely, you trust him. You know he’ll take care of you, should you survive the night.

But while the shivers caused by the chill of night could be easily overcome, nothing could stop the tremors and shivering he forces out of your body with his mouth on your skin.

He laps at the drying droplets of blood, massaging the skin on your stomach and chest with his tongue to clean up the redness. He fights to keep his eyes open at the taste. 

“What I’m confused about, precious,” he mouths against your skin, “Is how exactly I want to eat you.”

“But then again,” he sighs, chuckling a little, “I suppose it’s the same with your heart.”

“My heart?” you ask, nearly breathless. The tenseness in your abdomen tightens at the mirthful look he gives you.

“Your heart,” he confirms, something between a loving smile and smirk on his lips, “I contemplated whether to eat it or to cherish it.” 

He hums as he returns to his task, licking up until he reaches the little crescent stab wounds between your breasts, right above your heart. “I took so long thinking about it that before I could make a decision, you just gave it to me. All pretty on a silver platter.”

“And what about now?” you swallow, somewhat uneasily, “Do you know what you’re going to do with it?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he nuzzles into your skin, kissing all around the wounds. It's a sensitive spot, even more so now, and you hiss with each of his kisses. His tongue presses into the semi circles, drawing more pained whimpers from your lips. His hands sooth over your waist as he pulls away. He admires his work, both the moon-like indents in your skin and the blooming marks around them.

He looks hungry. Blood stains his lips, and you wipe it again once more with a patient smile. He seems amused by it. The smirk present on his lips even as he licks the ruby liquid off, tongue wrapping around your finger.

“You should taste it yourself,” he suggests, resting his chin on your stomach, looking up at you, a satisfied expression adoring his face. 

“I know what my blood tastes like, and it doesn’t bring me any pleasure,” you shake your head.

“How ignorant,” he sighs, leaning back to look over the marks on your chest once more. You see something you haven’t seen before in his eyes. You can’t describe it, and you’re sure he wouldn’t answer if you asked. It’s a warm feeling, however, you’re sure of it.

“Let them scar,” he whispers, raising his hand towards the shallow cuts left by his claws. He runs his fingers over them gently. “So you’re always wearing my marks.”

“Does that mean I’ll get out of the woods alive tonight, Mr. Fox?” you tease, unwisely, “Does it mean, perhaps, that you’ve decided to cherish my heart?”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly. You recognize the fondness in his gaze, even if it only flickers there for a second.

“No, not tonight,” he tells you. Laughter spills from his lips as your face pales instinctively. Yet he knows you’re not scared - not as he wants you to be, not as you should be. He wonders how come you’re so ready to accept death at his hands. Why you’d risk your life, why you’d embrace him so. Perhaps one day he’ll ask you. Perhaps he’ll devour you right after getting his answers. Or perhaps he’ll spend the rest of your days pondering the unspoken questions by your side. 

“Tomorrow morning, maybe,” he thinks aloud and takes a moment to take in the way your breathing quickens, “If you’re lucky.”

“There’s something I’m curious about though,” he continues with his fingers still caressing over the marks, “Can you make it until I make these into the phases of the moon?” You feel a shiver run down your spine at the suggestion, at all its implications.

“That would, of course, all depend on you, Soohyuk,” you reply, and this time it’s him who feels his body react to your words, to his long forgotten name being said aloud. You caress him again, fingers tracing his jawline. How is it that you don’t fear him? “As you said, foxes are fickle creatures and their moods can be dangerous. I’m a guest in your world, and I’ll only stay as long as you allow me.”

He smiles, closing his eyes and you know it’s so that you don’t see the emotion in them. For such a long time he was alone, without the need to hide his feelings, so now that there is that need, he lacks practice. It’s endearing. All the more so as he once more leans into your touch. His lips press a kiss into your palm.

“You’re a welcomed guest. For the time being,” he says. Is it a threat? Is it reassurance? Is it a fact? Or is he trying to persuade you of it, or maybe even himself? You’ll never know, but it doesn’t matter.

What does matter is him shifting forward, lips attaching to your bare stomach again, and his claws resting softly on your waist. His teeth graze your sensitive skin.

Fox’s hunger is hard to satisfy.

In the sky, the moon is waning. Ready to die and be reborn. 

You watch it as he guides you through the woods. Maybe you’re the same, both dying tonight.

The memory of the moon as well as the night remains permanent on your skin. The fox makes sure the cuts he made above your heart decorate your body forever. 

You leave his den with the sunrise, wearing his robe and his marks.

who are your favorite f1 writers? i'm begging for good fic recs

I've been waiting for an excuse to fangirl over my fellow F1 writers & you're giving it to me on a silver platter so thank you very much for this ask!! 🤸

All the accounts below are so freaking talented and I cannot get enough of them ( I literally have over fifty drafts right now & 90% of those are fangirling reviews of their works waiting to be written and posted... ). If you've never read their work, you're missing on some serious masterpieces.

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I know I'm forgetting people & I'm already hating myself for it... Please share your favourite F1 writers as well, I'm always excited to discover new talents 🩷🌟

From Me, For You

Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader

Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Childe

Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.

You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.

It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.

But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...

He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"

And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.

You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.

You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.

The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.

"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.

The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.

Blood...

Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.

"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."

The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.

"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?

This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.

However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.

"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.

"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"

"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.

A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.

"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.

"This is just worthless."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.

You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.

Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.

"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.

Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?

Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.

His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.

A realization hit him... they look a lot like...

Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.

A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.

His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.

He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.

Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.

"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."

"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."

"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.

"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."

"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.

"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.

He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.

After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.

"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."

"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.

"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.

"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.

"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.

The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!

But he will persevere, just for you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Alhaitham

You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.

It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.

Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.

"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.

The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."

You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.

You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.

it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.

"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.

"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.

"Do you not want to be with me?"

"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.

He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."

And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.

First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.

His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.

Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D

You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!

Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.

Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!

You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.

The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.

At least... that's what you thought...

But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...

Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.

And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.

Apparently, that included your work.

"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."

"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."

"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."

You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.

Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.

You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.

"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.

That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.

This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.

A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.

"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.

"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.

"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.

"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.

"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."

"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."

And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?

Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.

Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.

...

"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.

The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.

"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.

"What are you doing?"

Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."

"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."

And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.

"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.

You made them because... you love him...

And he fucked up.

Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.

He had to fix this.

...

You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.

"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.

On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.

"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."

He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.

For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.

Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.

Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.

And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.

You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!

But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.

There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.

Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.

It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...

He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.

You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...

"Would you like to come in for dinner?"

...

You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.

After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.

"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.

With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."

You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.

"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?

You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."

He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."

"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."

"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.

"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."

"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.

"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."

You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.

"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.

"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"

"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.

"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."

...

"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.

"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.

The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.

"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.

Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."

"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.

"I'll keep that in mind."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D

It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!

Lee Soo Hyuk Insta update

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ sylus x fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage, contract marriage, fluff, crack, eventual s/mut, angst, close proximity, cuffed together trope, illegal stuff (it's sylus we're talking about), suggestive, luke and kieran try to play cupid, language, tension, enemies to friends to lovers, heavy illusions to the myth of hades and persephone, pregnancy mention, more tba...

ᥫ᭡ updates every week with shorter chapters!

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒…

lesson 1: becoming mrs. qin

lesson 2: bathtime

lesson 3: my side of the bed

lesson 4: dancing with our hands tied

lesson 5: baby shower

lesson 6: cock(crow)blocked

lesson 7: dangerous liasons

lesson 8: how to love

lesson 9: haunting me

lesson 10: a N109 welcome

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.