Early Mornings…. 🐦‍⬛✨🍎☃️🐠

heartburn

pairing: sylus x gn! reader (not mc)

synopsis: he made you a promise he couldn't keep, all because he was distracted with someone else, because he chose someone else. so, what happens when a mission goes wrong and hes not there?

flower: black dahlia

warnings: angst, a lot of angst.

w/c: 6.8k

a/n: it is here finally, my first finished longshot! it took me 2 months to complete it cause I'm lazy af, so dont expect anything new soon lmao. apologies for any mistakes since its eng is not my first language (and me dumb).

wanna thank my girl @tarjapearce for helping me throughout the process, you're an angel <3 dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @strangergraphics-archive.

Each breath you take seems more raw than the previous one, your throat burning with each inhale after exhale. Your thoughts are as uneven as your breathing, the anxiety and fear fighting your instinct to survive.

As you reach the car, you’re finally able to open the door after countless attempts, as your blood burns through your vessels and chains you down. It seems like a blink before you’re driving away to God knows where, the only certain thing at the moment being the lump of fear in your throat.

It’s when you regain control of your mind that you reach the phone and frantically search for Sylus’ contact, looking up and down to the road in front of you. The numbness from your mind travels to your limbs, as if the only thing you can feel is the rapid heartbeat inside your head and the tight grip in your chest. Once you see it you click it almost instantly, a shuddering breath of relief leaving your lips.

‘Its okay, I’m safe now. Everything is gonna be okay.’

While waiting for the call to pick up, you try to regain your other senses and look at your surroundings as a way to figure out where your survival instincts took you. You then proceed to use the GPS on the dashboard panel, redirecting yourself back to the base.

The plan was simple: meet with the seller, receive the protocore and go back to the base, but that is if the other party didn’t take you for fools. Once you understood the ambush at place, it was almost too late. Almost.

There was always a possibility and you knew it, everyone knew it, even Sylus. That’s why the protocols existed, to make sure if things got complicated you could get out safely even if he or the twins weren’t with you. 

First things first, you would always call him for help. During these missions it was established that he would always have his phone close in case of an emergency, and honestly it normally wouldn’t reach the second ring before he picked up whenever you needed. That's how careful he was, it was his promise. His deal, and he never breaks his deals.

That's why when it reached the last ring, your blood grew cold. The reassurance you’ve built until now going down the drain as if you didn’t make an effort to gather it all up.

Your breathing picked up again, all the hairs in your arm raising up in terror and fear. ‘No, nononono.’ 

You try again. And again. 

And nothing.

The only thing you could hear were his words of promise towards your safety, a soft lullaby that normally would bring you comfort, but now just brings a new sense of dread and betrayal.

Suddenly two blinding lights appear on the retro visor, and a sense of dread falls upon you. A heavy hot feeling washes from your head to the pit of your stomach, so heavy that it almost makes you fall forward on the steering wheel. You’re being followed.

You get it together and search for Kieran’s contact, immediately pressing the call button, and when he answers you at the 5th ring, you rest against the back of your seat as some of the burdens upon you leave your body. 

Kieran answered, so why didn’t he?

“Hello hello, how can i assi—“ “Kieran, it was all a trap and they are following me now.” Your voice sounds rough after biting your lip for so long, the vibrations scratching your throat as it tries to escape. You can hear him pause for a small second before calling his brother and immediately taking action.

“Where are you lil boss?” his tone is the most serious you’ve ever heard, cementing the realisation that you’re truly in trouble.

As you let out a shaky breath, you shake your head in denial as if he could see you. “I-I don’t know K, i don’t fucking know where i am a-and they right behind me—“.

Your tone is pathetic and you know it, but can anyone blame you? You’re supposed to be safe, he promised, and now everything seems so uncertain. “Take a deep breath for us yeah? I need you to do that.” His voice turns from serious to a comforting tone, bringing you back from the pit you’re already in.

You do as he says, word for word, and he makes sure to hear it before proceeding, “Thats perfect lil’ boss, now I need you to look at the dashboard and see the location you have in the GPS, can you do that?”

Once again, you nod in an attempt to communicate with him and search for an address, saying it loud enough before hearing a loud thud through the phone. They are searching for you. “Okay now you need to keep updating us on your location and direction, once you notice we’re already home yeah? Luke will keep talking to you so don’t worry, we’ve got you”

From there, everything felt like a quick blur. All you remember is being followed and then a loud crash happening behind you. Next thing you know, Luke is in the backseat with you while trying to talk to you out of it. But you’re not in the car with them right now. You’re in his office, the scent of leather filling your senses. You can feel the chair sinking beneath you and his caress on your hands, grabbing them while his red piercing stare reassures you. And he says it, he says that if anyone even tries to mess with one of his, he will be there to make sure they know who they were messing with. But you’re not there, nor is he here.

Sometimes you would help your “sister” in her… business. You grew up with her, a case of a chosen family since your parents knew each other by heart, before everything fell apart. Since then, you’ve gone through the hardships that N109 zone threw at you both, her being the brains and you being the practical side. She was always more street smart than you, taking the sisterly role at a really young age and neither playing chess or checkers, but her own game created by her own rules.

So when your aunt's shop wasn’t enough to go through difficult times, she was the first to give you an opportunity to be great, and to be great means to be powerful. The world doesn’t favour the weak, it only strengthens the strong, so why not take a shot to help the ones who really need it?

Your fascination and experience with protocores came handy in tradings and auctions, using your pair of expert eyes to look for diamonds in the dirt. And that’s how you met him.

You met Sylus through a protocore auction, a poor one may be added. The prices on it were horrendously high for such poor quality, and when you saw him pondering to buy one of them you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him some advice — Seeing such precious money being spent on waste is hard on anyone.

Your keen senses attracted him, the sense of opportunity too strong for the leader of Onychinus to ignore, so he made you deal: be his eyes and he will put you under his wings, providing anything you need.

From there you started to make appearances in his name, making business with dealers and getting better protocores and better prices. The more you interacted the closer you got with Sylus and the twins, to the point that you started to look at them more than simple coworkers, instead, more like family.

But as the bond changed so did their boss, a slight shift in his demeanour almost invisible to the naked sight. There started to be a tension clinging to the air whenever you two were together, pushing each other's buttons. Normally it would be him provoking you, but those slabs felt like tickles in comparison to what you’ve gone through, so it would be useless. Unless of course, he took a more soft and gentle approach, then it would be impossible not to bend.

It was in those moments where the knot of need would crawl to your throat, the line between danger and want blurring the more you felt his gaze on your form, and it felt exciting. After 2 years, it was impossible to not fall for Sylus’ late night talks, the intimate trust he never showed anyone else and words that would only be spoken in a whisper, to you. Although that was before she came around.

They quickly bring you to the living room to sit you on the leather sofa, making sure you’re comfortable before going on separate paths. Kieran quickly turns around and goes to search for the first aid kit, leaving Luke to search for any potential injuries you have. After sitting on his heels in front of you, he gently grabs your shoulders first as he moves you gently while checking around for any wounds while trying to bring you back from your disassociated state.

“Where is he?” 

He knew the question would come earlier or later, but it still made him stop in his tracks. If he didn’t have his classic mask on, it would be pretty obvious he was sweating out of remorse and guilt, so he tries to change the subject while waiting for his brother’s return.

His mask hides the nervousness felt by the sudden question, drops of sweat pilling up out of remorse — or perhaps guilt. He tries to change the subject while waiting for his brother's return, hands retreating to his lap to nervously play with his fingers. “Before that, why don’t we wait for Ki-“

“Luke.” Nothing else moves besides your lips, a chilling silence making the poor man almost choke on his words. 

You were always a light hearted person, sometimes teasing the twins and indulging their goofy pranks, pranks who would get you chanced by Onychinus leader himself. Each day that you passed together made them realise how your closed, but gentle heart was able to warm the coldest parts of someone, making them even more attached. They’ve seen you angry as well, really angry, and it's something they dread to see it again, but it’s in that moment that Kieran realises there’s something else scarier than your burning fury;

Your lifeless eyes, empty of any emotion. It’s now he realises how fucked up the situation is. You are not like them, you could’ve died.

Kieran interrupts the pregnant silence, confused about his brother’s low levelled head — as if in pain. He closes the distance between you two, sitting down right next to you with the aid kit in his lap and positioning himself towards you. Before he can open his mouth, your voice cuts their thoughts once again.

“…Where is he?” You repeat your question while looking at nothing, reflecting the void inside your heart.

Both twins look at each other, as if discussing with their eyes if the truth is the best they could give you at the moment. The thought of bringing you pain as a consequence of your request, hurts them more than any wound they have ever stitched on themselves.

Luke is the first to break eye contact. ‘I can’t do it brother’. Kieran sighs, putting the kit on the table beside him before shifting on his seat, looking ahead while supporting his elbows on both his thighs.

He hesitates, his lips parting and pressing together a few times in an attempt to organise his thoughts. After battling with his thoughts he lets out an exhale in defeat, your pain more important than any cover up.

“…He had to go to Linkon at the end of the day, he told us not to wait for him and in any emergency to call him, but —“ The man sighs and shakes his head in frustration for the man he serves. Sylus is more than he could ever ask for and done more than he could ever thank, but seeing someone like you being thrown in this makes his unconditional adoration shake for the leader.

For the first time since you’ve sat on the couch, your gaze lowers, processing the twin’s words with your mind and heart. He was with her when you needed him the most, and it seems you're not the only one who reflects on that. 

The room is engulfed by the soft lights that the fireplace provides, warming up superficially but leaving a frostbite feeling in everyone's hearts, as the three of you fall into a moment of reflection. The ringtone of Luke’s phone cuts the silence short, bringing everyone out of their trance, and once he goes to pick it up, your hand comes flying in his direction and grabbing the device from his hand, throwing it to the wall in your left.

The action surprises both twins as they slightly jump on their place and look at you, shock invading their hidden features. They can see your arm frozen, still in the throwing motion as you try to regulate your breathing. You then open your lips and let the words spill through, letting their fears become reality.

Both men get up in a blink of an eye, already throwing questions and pleas for you to not make rush decisions. Their voices feel like long distant whispers in your mind, the only thing going through being the promise he made and the one he broke.

“Don’t pick his calls, not until I’m gone.”

A few months ago, Sylus started to act… differently. He started to make Mephisto work overtime, to the point you wondered when was the last time you’ve seen him pestering you for attention. Whenever you tried to spend time with him on the usual ungodly hours, he seemed distracted with reports and news of N109 Zones’ beloved sister, Linkon city. 

You knew better than to be bothered by it, no matter how much affinity you had with the man he was the leader of Onychinus at the end of the day, trouble found him the same way he would find you in the middle of the night. When the city’s shadows got darker, you could see a shift in his attitude as his cold features appeared often, absent of any emotion or the usual glint of mischief.

But on the day of the Nest meeting, things changed drastically. After they got to the base and settled in one of the rooms downstairs and the gunshot was heard, all you could do was jump in place and wipe your head to the direction of the noise. You and the twins knew whatever was going on in there Sylus would not get hurt, but just the sound itself was enough to make your heartbeat fasten its pace with worry.

Once that episode was done you did give him an earful of swears, telling him off about his recklessness and manipulating tactics — i mean can’t he convince the girl with less self damaging methods?

As time went on, you could say your relationship with MC was … stable, just civil enough to promote a neutral ambience. She wasn’t really up on making new friends and you weren’t really interested in someone as unstable as her — she was part of one of your enemies after all. As time passed though, you could see her being included more into the organisation, which didn’t bother you if it wasn’t for a few peculiarities.

It seemed, bit by bit, the solo attention that was given to you by Sylus was starting to diverge towards her. Not just that, but the trust he would’ve put on you to do the job you were assign to was also being put on her, on the miss hunter that decided to buy the whole action just because she wanted to be bratty. Slowly, the confusion turned into uncertainty, and the uncertainty turned into something you didn’t feel in a long time since being at his side — insecurity. MC wasn’t just anyone; she was a professional hunter, one of the best it seemed, and not with a normal evol, no. With an aether core, just like him. Suddenly you could see why he was relying more on her than you, and how compatible they seemed even with all their bickering. 

He noticed it of course, and it was the perfect opportunity to tease you about it. When he noticed it was deeper than a simple “jealousy”, that sweet voice of his sang like a lullaby in your ears.

‘No matter how important she is for our mission, she will never be as important as you are to me, little flower.’ 

And you trusted him, you dumbly did.

The twins are walking by each of your sides, your fast pace making them more and more nervous about the thoughts on your mind, “L-Look let's talk about it yeah? Why don’t we sit down and-and try to come to a better solution?” Luke tells you while stumbling on his words, almost matching his clumsy steps to wherever you’re going.

Kieran nods affirmatively while keeping a hand ghosting the middle of your back, as if to catch you in case another episode begins, “He’s right lil boss, making decisions in the heat of the moment never goes well. And you should be restin—“

As you make a sharp turn towards the corridor of your room, your pace is a clear answer for them two — ‘The decision is done.’ You enter your room and go to grab the travel bag beneath your bed, laying it on top of your covers and opening it completely.

Kieran calls out your name once again with an authoritarian voice, an unfamiliar tone from the twin behind you. “Please,” he begs, the desperation in his voice overpowering his need to take some sort of control, “ — talk to us, this can’t be the only way can it?”

Your hand stops in place, fingertips barely caressing the ends of the bag as your mind goes to a blank. The truth is that if you take time to think as much as a drop, you know it will overboard the ocean of emotions inside you — and you know that once it begins, it will be hard to reach an end.

So you stay quiet, get your back straight before slowly turning towards the men that anxiously wait for an answer. And even with silence falling on you three, they wince at the statement you’ve done. Kieran breathes in sharply while Luke takes a step back, both startled with your silent response that could mean a thousand words alone. Pain? Betrayal? Maybe even emotions that you promised to seal deep in your heart.And that was their answer.

Your mind covers the sands of time, as next thing you know you’re feeling the tears that the sky is letting down for you, walking by foot until — until somewhere.

You couldn’t even farewell the two people that were always there for you, the only ones that really took their word up to their promise. You stopped at the stairs from the entrance, rain engulfing you into a tight embrace before turning around to face the twins. They look at you, and you can imagine the expressions they’re making so vividly that it stabs a fourth blade into your heart. All you can do is hug them one last time and control the tremors that your body is letting out, a last effort to make this goodbye less painful. But they know, they know that the drops on your face are not made by the clouds above, but from you.

You turn around, not daring to share another word nor gaze. It would just make you weak, so instead you go forward, walking through the open gates that once opened your heart and now close along with it.

After walking for what seems like hours, a sob is hidden by the rain that shocks the floor. Another one gets out, and another one, and another, until you drop to your knees in angst. You almost died. You could still feel their hands gripping into your arm and — 

You clumsily reach your phone and make one last phone call, to someone that you know will listen to your pleas and anguish.

Once you finish the call, all you can do is close your eyes and feel the gentle touch that the water provides to you, and share to her the yells of your broken heart.

That night, the skies cried with you.

The ear-piercing noise of the brakes screeching on the road can be heard inside the manor, before the air goes heavy with anticipation. A door suddenly opens, letting the chilling melody made by the rain creep in and, for just an instance, overthrow the deadly silence that consumes the house. The moment is broken by the tremor that shakes the house, caused by the smashing door.

Quick breathing and heavy steps echo through the corridors, each one more desperate than the last. When Sylus reaches the living room part of him knew, he knew something wasn’t right. He tries to catch his breath, but each inhale scratches the inside of his throat as despair replaces the oxygen in his lungs — almost as a punishment.

“What the hell happened?” The man spits out, the authoritarian tone hiding the fear in his voice. Sylus pants while looking at the twins, both sitting on the same sofa you’ve sat before — a futile way of prolonging your presence. They don’t answer, maybe didn’t even hear it, one of them keeping his face in his hands while the other simply looks down with his forearms on his knees. 

“Where are they!?” His yells pierces the room as well as the brothers mind, waking them up from a protective slumber which avoided them from facing reality. Luke jumps in surprise looking at his boss in despair, and as he tries to formulate an answer, Kieran cuts him off.

“They left, boss. They quit.”  

It was after the dinner party, when the faint festive mood still lingered in the air but the quiet manor expressed explicitly that the day had ended. Sylus couldn’t believe it still, he wasn’t accustomed to celebrate his birthday even with the unsuccessful tries of his twins. He needed to give you the credit, he was expecting something, but not this.

Everything in the celebration screamed ‘him’, making him participate in his favourite silly activities and helping the twins with offering their leader a new karaoke set — even if it pained you internally.

“Running away from me already, birthday boy?” You broke his wandering mind, making him stretch the smile in his face a little longer. 

He chuckled before taking his forearms from the railing and straightening up his back. “Im afraid your birthday boy isn’t here, as for my understanding it's the 19th already.” Your silent cussing made him snort in amusement.

“Well, uhm — would you kind sir be mindful enough to give him a gift of mine?” You improvised, hiding the nervous tremor your hands had let out.

Sylus pretended to think for a moment, before giving up to your hopeful look — too adorable for your own good if he might add. “Hm, I guess that can be arranged. It is the least I could do to thank the host for this extravagant party.”

You swayed your hand up and down, suggesting him to stop with the compliments — accepting those were never your forte per se. You walked up next to him before resting your hands against the railing in front of you, and take a deep breath.

“Well, I had some really poetic words to tell the birthday boy, but it seems harder now that I’m sharing the message.” A sigh escaped your lips, and you wished that some of your nervousness did too.

His intrigue only grew from there, facing you with his body as to give you his full attention. “Is that hesitance I sense? What could such an important message be to make you fear its content, even after lying and hiding this big of an event from Onychinus leader himself?”

You scoffed and shook your head as a response to his question, quickly following up “Why are you saying as if I committed a crime? It's a surprise party for a reason.” You couldn't deny the success from his effort in making you feel more at ease, maybe a reminder that this isn’t a bigger deal than what you did daily.

“This past year has been, well something”, you chuckled to yourself, “but even amongst the strongest waves, there’s a serene feeling to it. A feeling I’ve been waiting to hold on to.”

His eyes scanned every move you made, even the small smile you tried to contain as memories came to bay, and he himself tried to hide how much he adored it.

“He pays me extremely well, but I find it futile to buy him anything when he can buy anything he wants and more, so —“ Your left hand trembled as you lifted it up from its support, reaching into your pocket and taking out a small velvet pouch.

“— I tried to be creative.”

You turned to him, extending the present and staying still until he picked it up, eyes looking anywhere but him.

Sylus took in your flustered state, maybe enjoying it a bit too much, before carefully picking up the present in front of him.

“Well miss, I will need to confirm the gift before delivering it to the client in question. Security measures, as you understand” He looked at you through his lashes, and even if the look could be perceived as sensual, there was a glint of reassurance behind his gaze. ‘Your thought on it is already enough’ it whispered, but falling in deaf ears as you couldn't even look at him.

“Yeah yeah just open the damn present. I'm dying of anxiety over here…” Your last mumble wasn't ignored, and made the leader of Onychinus have a laugh himself. He respected your wishes before opening the small pouch.

After gently picking up the object with his fingers, he couldn't even hide his surprise when looking at it. 

“What… Is this a necklace?” He asked, his confusion obvious in his tone. He definitely wasn’t expecting getting surprised once more today,

“Yeah, I — uhm, I made it.”

Nor the words that came out of your mouth. A silence fell upon you two, and even the stars seemed to be waiting for your next move, observing your interaction from afar.

Sylus broke everyone’s expectations by laughing. Not his usual laugh though, not the sexy smug laugh that he lets out once in a while, no. He laughed as if he was a young child, free of malice or second intentions. It was so beautiful, so raw and pure that you almost cried by the melody he created so effortlessly, so beautiful that it made you stop and stare at him.

Once he calmed down, he cleaned the corner of his eyes, as if to catch the tear that dared to escape his ruby eyes. “You just keep on catching me off guard more and more, I’m not sure if I enjoy it.” But his genuine smile contradicted his statement, clearly enjoying every moment of it.

As you got to your senses, you couldn't help but be embraced by a wave of embarrassment. “… If you don’t like it it's okay, I’m not a jeweller by far, so i understand if it's not your taste —“ “Its the most beautiful thing someone has ever gifted to me.”

The sudden shift in his voice caught you completely off guard, snapping your gaze towards him instantly. Despite the seriousness of his tone, his eyes didn't lie, full with a gentleness foreign in his eyes. 

“Its the first time someone has ever given me a hand-made gift like this,” he caressed the metal beads of the necklace, falling in love with it the more he looked at it, “I couldn’t ask for more, little flower”.

The manor’s floor ranges in pain as Sylus’ footsteps press against it, the pace mirroring his racing mind. The closer he gets to your bedroom, the more his heart jumps against his chest. He had to see, he had to confirm this wasn’t just a shitty prank you three pulled on him, even if in the back of his mind the truth was looking straight at him.

He races through the stairs, walking them up in groups of two, and his body just gets into autopilot. So many times he has made this same path, only this time it is filled with dread. Going forward, sharp turn to the right and walk a few feet until he reaches your door, but once he stops, he hesitates to open the door. Sylus’ hand trembles, probably for the first time in his life, in fear. He already lost so much, faced so many horrors, but it’s now he realises that losing you is the biggest one until now. The hesitance annoys him deeply, so he pushes it aside while grabbing the doorknob tightly and twisting it with force, opening a new wound he couldn’t heal.

The twins catch up on him slightly later, looking into the room and watching their leader in the middle of what used to be your room, empty of any sign that would proclaim this space as yours. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. He just stays there, expressionless, like he was before he met you.

Seconds pass before he regains his sense of self, turning around and going back on his steps, walking straight past the brothers and towards his own office. He can’t hear Kieran's and Luke's questions, since the only thing in his mind is the way your cute chuckle slips through when you’re embarrassed, how your eyes close when you laugh so hard you’re almost wheezing, and how you look at him as if he was just another human being instead of the monster other proclaim him to be.

And then he wonders, do you believe their words now? 

It truly is like two faces of the same coin, bringing the the twins into a sense of deja vu — the way he gets into a dissociated state like you do when stressful situations appear, how he doesn’t stop his tempo because they all know if he does, he falls, the same way you do.

He steps into his office and prepares Mephisto for the night shift ahead, as well as assembling himself for the round he is about to go through too. Quick and direct, Sylus doesn’t lose anymore time entertaining his brainstorm of emotions, only having one goal in mind — finding you. 

Once out of the room and heading towards the stairs, he stops by the call of his name. Luke steps closer to the man while his brother stays behind, now only a few feet away from the white-haired man. With a strained voice, he speaks the words that are plead in everyone’s minds,

“Please find her Boss.”.

Sylus clenches his jaw, the tension breaking his expressionless facade as dread falls from its slits. No, he won’t let you go like this, not because of a stupid mistake of his responsibility, not because of a promise he couldn’t keep. He turns to face the younger male, and his eyes shimmer in determination and pain, cutting the heavy ambient around them.

“I will.”

He was waiting for you at the entrance, already bored to mind even before the event even started. It was a social party of a trusty source of his, and for the sake of his business relationship, Sylus had no choice but to participate. He would always bring you along to avoid “unwanted” attention to himself, since lately he hasn’t gotten the curiosity to entertain himself with a stranger.

He would normally give you full liberty to choose your own clothes, as long as it was adequate for the meetings he didn’t really care about, but in the past few months he couldn’t help but … spoil you a bit. A coat that seemed clearly your style? Or that set that would look so good on you for the auctions ahead? He couldn’t just pass by, he needed to buy it. So when he saw a suit that complemented his own iconic colours, it was a match in heaven.

He waited (im)patiently for your arrival, wondering how the outfit would look on you: Would you like it? Would you feel comfortable in it? Would you feel confident in it—

“Sorry I took so long, took a while to figure out how to wear it” You chuckled nervously as you approached him at the bottom of the stairs. He searched for the source of your voice before his gaze fell upon your figure, and Sylus got quiet.

The tight shirt already shaped your figure beautifully, but the vest on top? It was as if you were built by Astra Himself. With the black shirt a few buttons open your chest was shown just enough to tease, and the black vest with crimson strikes was adjusting your torso so perfectly he thought it was dangerous. You couldn’t help but try to hide yourself, not used to his hungry eyes, but as soon as you tried to cower your figure he was suddenly in front of you, with his hand gently grasping your wrist forbidding you from covering.

“Don’t,” he stroked your palm with his thumb, feeling the warmth of your skin, “You look too beautiful to be hidden.” You shook your head in denial and let out a nervous chuckle, not used to being complimented by the Onychinus leader himself, “You don’t need to stroke my ego now, we’re wayy past that phase.”

Sylus frowned, not enjoying the tone that accompanied your words, “Are you doubting my truth, puppy? I think we’re past that phase as well.” The hand on your wrist slipped into yours instead, interlocking your fingers in his. You looked at him shocked, not quite processing his words immediately, and once you stumbled on your words after attempting to retort, you knew you were done.

Annoyance long gone, the soft ruby eyes softened at your embarrassed expression, enjoying every minute of your visual flustered state. He must say, red does look good on you, especially on your cheeks. And it's once he noticed his own heart jumping against his chest that he knew, he was done for as well.

It’s hard to determine how much time has passed since Sylus got to the road in hopes of finding a trail of you. It pained him to think you would’ve walked the same path he’s driving drenched and cold, shaken up by a meeting that shouldn’t have happened. He thought he could find you wandering the streets since it didn’t take him much to reach home before you left, but since there was no trace of you, he could only conclude someone took you. 

The thought would be enough for him to grab the steering wheel tighter, enough for his knuckles to turn white. There was no doubt in his mind that you’ve contacted someone you trust, probably your sister, but after what happened to you… he couldn’t handle the possibility of you being in danger and him not be able to save you, again.

His eyes burned, enough to leave the ruby of his eyes even more crimson, and Sylus didn’t know if it was because he refused to blink, or if it were tears that threatened to escape. Memories and flashbacks wouldn’t stop from coming in and out of his mind, leaving a little bit more of madness in his brain. 

With his left leg twitching, hands slightly trembling, and breathing getting heavier by the second, Sylus could feel something new brewing inside of him, another emotion no one else has made him feel besides you: panic.

In one of those sleepless nights of yours, when memories of your past taunt you in your dreams, you’ve got used to the ruby-eyed male’s company to ease your mind. And back then, it was one of those nights. 

Sylus was observing your sleeping form, your chest rose and lowered with each breath, eyes softly closed and parted lips that made you look so beautiful. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, enjoying every minute while he could to take in all your features — it was the only way he could without seeming lovestruck (which he totally was).

He already accepted he was a lost cause, even if you were the one with the nickname it seemed he was the dog on the leash, and the one holding it was you, even if you were too dense to decipher. 

The man couldn’t contain himself, and so he reached his calloused hand and rested it against the softness of your cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. He thought and overthought, until finally surrendering to his desires and leaving a kiss on your forehead so light it felt like two petals against the skin.

As he pulled away, he opened his eyes and sighed in content, grateful to have you resting in his bed with him. Maybe one day he will be as bold as he is in his line of work to make sure you’re there for other reasons.

A loud screech cuts the silent street as Sylus turns to stop at the side of the road, his hyperventilating making him dizzy enough to shake his sight. The memories overflow him and the bother in his chest turns into pain, making his right hand abandon the wheel and grab where it hurts. He leans into his seat quite roughly, a way to shake off this awful feeling he can’t quite shake off.

Both of you were in the kitchen, you and your stubborn self trying to pull him into the middle of the “dance floor” while your favourite song plays in the background. His eyes glinted in amusement while his lips let out a breathy laugh, your excitement expanding to everything around you. 

While you sang your lungs out and swayed Sylus towards every direction, he couldn’t help but stare at your goofy smile and so beautiful lips. He then slid his hands down to both sides of your waist and secured them there, while a genuine smile of his own slowly made way to his face.

You opened your eyes in surprise, but non the less delighted, and you looked at him. For some reason this caught him off guard as well, bringing you two to a stop while the melody kept on playing. It’s true what others say: in moments of intimacy with a cherished one, it’s as if the sands of time are at each other's fingertips, stopping its continuous flow. 

In a sudden move, Sylus leans forward and slams both hands against the steering wheel: once, then twice, then one final blow. His breathing is erratic now, his mind — it just doesn’t stop working, it keeps replaying moments he wouldn’t even remember on an ordinary day and clinging onto him when he doesn’t even have you near anymore. Every time he remembers, a part of him gets cut and keeps on bleeding, stinging every time he notices you’re gone.

One of his hands left your waist and cradled your face, making you close your eyes and lean into the warmth of his rough palm. A melodic silence fell upon you both, but no words were needed to be said. Sylus didn’t need his Aether core to know your deepest desire at the moment, and he couldn’t lie that it mirrored his. So he leaned it, and as a good reflection you are, you did so as well.

The car door slams against the vehicle by force, the space inside being so claustrophobic that it makes the air in his lungs trapped in place. He leans against the car and lets himself be embraced by the rain above, a chilling comfort given by the skies. While his breathing slowly comes to a steady, the pressure on his heart only increases as so the burning feeling in his eyes. 

He doesn’t move nor does he make a sound, only the rain drops against the concrete and metal being heard. But the same way you reflected him back then, this time he’s the one mirroring the skies this time, as only Astra himself is the only witness of his crystal drops that interline with the ones from above.

And so, the skies cried alongside him that night.

oharasmommymilkers00 © do not steal, plagiarize, modify, translate or repost without my consent.

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.

♡ » fluff

✧ » smut

☽ » angst

✩ » my loves

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

Midnight Ties ☽ ✩ ↳ When Deepspace Hunter, Mina Osaki, finds herself unable to sleep in the cold and quiet of the N109 Zone Safehouse, she instead runs headfirst into the one person who puts her most on edge--and this time, he's injured. [Main Story Spoilers | References to "Midnight Stealth" Memory]

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!

Summary: It’s the perfect start to your debut senior figure skating season, until it’s not. A minor run in with Sakusa Kiyoomi has you in hot water in the figure skating world, and the only solution is to pair with the Ice Prince himself and skate in pairs. Sparks will fly as you constantly butt heads with Sakusa, and you see your season melt away. Can you save your season before it’s too late? Or will Sakusa ruin any chance you have of becoming a Senior World Champion?

When your heart is on the ice, success and love are never guaranteed.

Pairing: F!AdultFigureSkater!Reader x AdultFigureSkater!Sakusa Kiyoomi

Genre: Romance, Enemies to Friends to ?, Sports Fiction, Drama, Angst

Warnings: Swearing, mature themes

Status: COMPLETE!

A/N: Hello everyone! I am SO EXCITED to bring this story to you - it has been in my WIP pile for FIVE MONTHS! It’s thanks to listening to re-watching Yuri!!! on Ice and listening to Yuri on Ice on repeat for hours! I am actually very pleased with how this turned out, and the fact that I stuck with it for so long. I hope you enjoy the story! 💙💠

Disclaimer: I spent a lot of time researching figure skating - rules, regulations, the scoring system - and it is a lot. I am certain that there were aspects that I have missed, but in the spirit of getting this story out there I appreciate if you would suspend your disbelief. If there are any egregious errors please let me know so I can correct them. Thank you in advance!

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Profiles

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26 w/ Written Portion

Chapter 27

Chapter 28 w/ Written Portion

Chapter 29

Chapter 30 w/ Written Portion

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33 w/ Written Portion

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

END

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💔Let's Break Up!💔

As a Valentine's Day special, we're breaking up with our favorite fictional men! But not to worry, we'll be making up as well!

Sometimes I catch myself thinking if I'd be able to be in a relationship with either one of them. As much I like to think that they're perfect, some moments remind me that they have their own flaws, which normal, but it does make me wonder how I'd react and behave if I was in MC's place.

⸝⸝ ♡ Breakup and Make up dates ♡⸝⸝

જ⁀➴ ♡ 11th Feb - Sylus જ⁀➴ ♡ 14th Feb - Zayne જ⁀➴ ♡ 18th Feb - Xavier જ⁀➴ ♡ 21st Feb - Rafayel

Charles Version

♡ Mama and Papa are here

♡ Leo, the bodyguard

♡ Lost and found

♡ his strong, independent girl

♡ a weekend to remember

♡ Best Friends Forever

♡ Our little miracle

♡ Sweet young love

♡ Stay Hydrated

♡ A Special First Haircut

♡ Papa is here

♡ Little Heartbreak

♡ Little Swimmer

♡ Homework in the Paddock

♡ She's Monegasque, not French

♡ Hate is a bad word

✧༺ SERIES ༻✧

HOME SERIES - toji x reader

➥ Home ✧ A Letter from Home ✧ Way Back Home

Status : Completed Genre: Heavy angst Warnings: infidelity/cheating, death, assisted suicide, euthanasia, mentions of sexual intercourse, illness, suicide attempt, suggestive smut

HOME SERIES: REINCARNATION - toji x reader

➥ Dodging a Bullet

Status: Completed Genre: Angst with happy ending, Reincarnation Warnings: mentions of cheating, explicit smut

FIX YOU SERIES - toji x reader

➥ Fix You ✧ The Sun Will Rise ✧ Closest to Heaven ✧ Open Arms

Status: Completed Genre: Angst Warnings: explicit smut, insecurities, mentions of death, pregnancy

PERMANENT MARK SERIES - gojo x reader

➥ Masterlist

Status: Completed Genre: Angst Warnings: tragedy, alcohol abuse, self-harm, self-destructive reader, smoking, physical violence, toxic relationships, manipulation, dubcon…+

SUNDERED SERIES - gojo x reader

Status: Completed Genre: Angst Warnings: mean!gojo (at first), pregnancy, arguments, implied noncon, insecurities

➥ Sundered Masterlist

MASQUERADE SERIES - geto x reader

Status: On-going Genre: Angst Warnings: angst, royal au, forced marriage, cheating, drama, emotional turmoil, power imbalance, manipulation

➥ Masquerade …+

✧༺ ONESHOTS ༻✧

➥ Warm Up (NSFW) - toji x reader

Genre: Smut Warnings: explicit smut, pussy spanking, fingering, overstimulation, squirting

➥ 2 in 1 (NSFW) - gojo x reader x geto

Genre: Smut Warnings: NSFW, threesome, handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, pussy spanking, squirting, nipple play, mirror sex, cunnilingus, double penetration, unprotected sex, anal, clit play, dirty talking

➥ In Another Universe… - toji x reader

Genre: Angst Warnings: Implied death (?)

➥ Like A Pro! (NSFW) - toji x reader

Genre: Smut Warnings: 🌽star!toji, 🌽star!femreader, nsfw, blowjobs, fingering, squirting, nipple play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, breeding kink, clit play, dirty talking, slapping if you squint, filming

✧༺ ASK ONESHOTS/IMAGINES ༻✧

➥ batman toji w/ little robin megumi

Genre:Fluff

➥ biker toji picking you up from school

Genre: Suggestive

✧༺ COMMISSIONS ༻✧

➥ Permanent Mark⁺ : FORLORN

Genre: Angst Warnings: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide

➥ Sundered⁺ : CATHARSIS

Genre: Angst Warnings: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader Note: Only the kitchen conversation can be considered a part of the main series.

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.

@lvrclerc @tsunodaradio @cinnamorussell @piastriprincess @dreamauri @harrysfolklore @verstappenverse @goldsainz @maxivstappen @rex-rambles @oikarma @spiderbeam @pitlanepeach @cressidagrey @dannyriccsystem @theonottsbxtch @vettelsvee @mv1simp @plutoslastwords @jungwnies @maxtermind @hugleclerc @slutforformulaone @norrisradio @afterglowsainz @moonlightwritingf1 @formulaonecrumbs @p1astr81 @anonf1writer @haniette @inkandapex @charlotteking23 @fairene

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 🩷🌟