#sunlight!reader

[jane-the-good]

SYLUS: hide and seek

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

SUMMARY: Sylus decides to help you learn how to understand and handle him ◡̈

NOTE: I love playful Sylus!!!!!! he deserves to playyyy

WARNINGS: 60% smut, 30% play, Sylus likes to give up his control and lord knows he craves that, oral sex, unsafe sex (please don’t be like them)

AO3 sylus masterlist

I’m also a bleach artist!! I made a hoodie for Sylus (obvi) and it’s my fave to paint!! It’s HERE if you want oneee!!!

love youuuuuu ♡

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You burst into the room, breath ragged, the echo of pursuing footsteps closing in. A distant door slams—loud, jarring. There’s no time to think. You lunge for cover, heart pounding, slipping behind Sylus’ chair as instinct takes over.

You crouch low, trying to make yourself smaller, pressing against the heavy fabric of the armchair. Your fingers curl into the edge of the rug for grounding. Every second could split open into violence. You can hear them—boots pounding, floorboards groaning, the occasional clatter of something knocked over in haste.

They’re getting closer.

But Sylus?

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tense. He only reaches lazily for a pen, twirling it between his fingers as if the room isn’t seconds from invasion. His attention flickers briefly, not to the sound outside—but to the disruption of your presence. A soft, amused breath escapes him. He lowers his pen, lets his glasses slide a little further down the bridge of his nose.

Then—without even turning his head—he speaks.

“Why are you hiding behind me?”

His voice is maddeningly calm, touched with dry amusement. You feel it rumble in the space as a slow-moving storm. You peek up at him from behind the chair—at the sharp lines of his shoulders, the way the lamplight throws shadows across the papers he’s annotating in precise, immaculate script.

“I—I had to,” you stammer. You can’t quite steady your voice. “They’re coming. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You came here.” He tilts his head just slightly. “Of all the doors you could’ve thrown open, you chose mine.”

You open your mouth, but he raises a finger—almost absentmindedly—as if to hush a student mid-interruption.

“I’m not saying I mind,” he says smoothly. “It’s just interesting. People tend to seek me out when they’re desperate.”

He shifts in the chair, the worn leather creaking beneath him as he leans back. His legs cross slowly, elegantly, and he returns to his notes without a trace of concern. The silence outside is deceptive— the eye of a storm. Your heart drums too loud in your ears.

Then, quietly, you whisper: “You don’t see me.”

He pauses.

Just for a second.

The pen stills in his hand.

A knowing smile curls at the edge of his mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart…” His voice is a drawl now, velvety and dangerous. “I see you better than anyone ever has.”

You freeze.

He doesn't look up from his papers, and for a moment, you're unsure if he’s completely aware of the danger drawing near. But then you hear it—the faintest shift in the air, a barely perceptible tension.

"I’m surprised you’re afraid of them," Sylus continues, his tone casual, but with that unmistakable underlying smugness. “You’re losing your edge, kitten." He leans back in his chair, still not fully turned toward you, his voice dripping with mock casualness. "I suppose you’ll have to protect yourself, won’t you?"

You can't help but roll your eyes. The man is infuriating, always two moves ahead, always expecting everyone around him to follow suit. But... he does care. In his own twisted, strategic way, he does. And for all his arrogance, it's that caring, that soft spot for you, that keeps you close. He knows you can handle yourself, that you’re capable.

"You don't need to worry about me," you say, standing up slowly, ready to face whatever’s coming. You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your instincts sharp and ready for anything. You trust yourself—and him, even when he's impossible.

"Of course I don’t," he replies, still not looking at you, but there's an unmistakable glint in his eyes now. "But do try to avoid getting yourself killed. I’d prefer not to clean up the mess."

The smug grin on his face never wavers, but there’s a dangerous edge behind it—one that speaks to his true nature. He’s ruthless, a man who never hesitates to go to any lengths for what he wants, even if it means taking lives. Yet, when it comes to you... there's something softer beneath it all.

You take a step forward, the confidence he’s instilled in you propelling you. You don’t need him to shield you. You don’t need anyone to do that. But you can feel his gaze on you now, watching, waiting. Encouraging. His words might be mocking, but his eyes say otherwise—he’s eager to see how far you’ll go.

And you’ll show him. You’ll show him that you don’t need protection. You’ll prove to him, and to yourself, that you’re not the one to hide anymore.

You step toward the door strategizing your next move, with haste. You will figure it out, you always do.

In a quick, desperate motion, you yank open the door.

“Sylus made me do it!”

Your voice cuts through the hallway, sharp and shaking. The twins—already mid-argument—freeze. They gasp in unison, wide-eyed, clutching each other as the weight of your words sinks in.

“Boss! No way!”
“He threatened you?!”

You nod gravely, committing to the drama with the weight of someone preparing for trial. “He said he’d take out Mephisto’s batteries if I didn’t comply. I had no choice. It was life or death.”

Gasps. Real gasps.

“Boss! That’s low!”
“You know Mephisto gets cranky without his charge!”

Behind you, Sylus doesn’t even look up. He exhales—barely—and flips a page in his notebook with the nonchalance of someone utterly bored by your slander.

“And what if I did do it?” he murmurs without inflection, he’s entertaining the idea just to see how far they’ll take it.

The twins freeze. Slowly turn to look at each other, the internal gears visibly turning as they try to figure out how serious he might be.

“Well…”
“I mean…”

Sylus tilts his head, finally looking up from his papers with a predator’s patience. “Would you… punish me?”

That shuts them both up fast.

“Boss! How could you say that!”
“Don’t make it weird!”

He sighs and turns back to his papers, completely unfazed.

“Apologies, Miss Hunter,” Luke and Kieran say together but not in unison.

“You did technically threaten my life,” you mutter, stepping back in and pulling the door shut, “but… it’s literally fine.”

“You’re super chill for someone whose life was just endangered,” one twin calls out.

“Thanks for being cool about it!” the other adds, sheepishly.

“Yeah, anywho, see you later!”

“Bye! Sorry again!”

You lean back against the door once it closes, exhaling all the nonsense in one long, exhausted breath.

Sylus doesn’t even pause his writing.

“What happened to not needing protection?” he drawls, bleeding smug ink into every watered down syllable.

“I panicked,” you admit, too tired to fake confidence. At least you’re honest.

He hums in amusement, tapping the end of his pen against his chin. “It seems your personal growth will just have to wait.”

“Sylus. It was serious.”

Now he glances up, finally meeting your eyes—brows raised, that half-smile toying with the edge of his mouth.

“You accused me of blackmail.”

“And they believed it!”

“That’s not the win you think it is.”

You cross your arms. “I saved Mephisto.”

“I see.” He says as he flips through Onychinus special top secret papers that could effect the lives of countless people in positive and negative ways all according to his choices.

“Sylus, I-“ you don’t even want to say it. “I caught their book on fire.”

“I wasn’t aware arson was something you enjoy.”

You drag your feet on the way back to his desk, each step heavier than the last, the guilt pulls at your ankles. When you finally reach him, you don’t sit—you just plant your hands on the front edge of his desk and lean all your weight into it, letting your head drop forward, collapsing under your shame.

Sylus doesn’t say anything right away. You can feel his eyes on you, hear the slow scratch of his pen as it comes to a halt.

“I lied to them,” you mutter, voice muffled by your own despair. “I threw you under the bus. A very large, twin-powered bus.”

Still, no response.

You sigh, lifting your head just enough to glare at the surface of his desk. “They have this book,” you say, finally unraveling, “like an actual book, handwritten and everything, with rules and tips and ‘how to handle Sylus without being emotionally mauled.’ It’s their pride. They treat it like scripture.”

That earns a faint twitch of his brow, but nothing more.

“And it’s not entirely my fault,” you continue, defensively now, straightening a little. “They lit a candle next to it. I told them that was a terrible idea, and they ignored me. And then I sneezed. And the pages caught. And I may have… panicked and flailed.”

Sylus raises a brow slowly. “You flailed?”

“I didn’t mean to! But once the corner was on fire, I was trying to smack it out and then it just… accelerated.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him with maddening calm. “So to be clear, you lied, framed me, and burned their holy text.”

You nod grimly. “In my defense, it was an accident. All of it.”

He stares at you in silence for a moment longer, then finally—finally—smirks. “You’re lucky they didn’t exile you.”

“I panicked!”

“And in the spirit of panic, you offered me up as the sacrificial lamb.”

You grimace. “Yes.”

He tilts his head, amused. “And how do you intend to make amends?”

You think for a moment, then sigh. “I was hoping you'd help me rewrite the book.”

Now he laughs—soft and low, but unmistakable. “This book about how to handle me?”

“yeah”

He finally stands up and with such ease walks around his desk and over to you.

“You know about this, because you’ve used it?” He is so confident

“it didn’t work.” you admit

“but you tried.” He crosses his arms.

“we’d just met, I didn’t understand you.”

“but now you know how to handle me.”

“no.”

“do you want me to tell you how?”

He actually wants to help?

“Is this something I can teach the twins? I feel like I owe them something.”

“No,” He stands infront of you making you lean back against his desk. “this is just for you.” He’s so close you have to look up to him.

“ok, teach me then.”

Sylus' smile is slow and full of wicked amusement, a storm forming just behind calm eyes. He doesn't speak at first—he just watches you, a soft hum rumbling in his chest warning an awaiting impact.

“Alright,” he says finally, his voice lower now, a little rougher. “Lesson one, kitten—concessions aren’t given. They’re earned.”

He leans in, his hands bracing on either side of you, caging you against the desk without touching you. The tension between you crackles, electric and thick, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze drags over your face in a slow, deliberate caress.

“You want to know how to make me concede?” His words are a whisper now, almost reverent. “You make me want to give in.”

Your heart pounds. You’re caught—by his voice, by his presence, by the way he makes something as dangerous as surrender feel like a privilege. You nod slowly, lips parted.

His hand lifts, fingertips tracing along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, as though memorizing you for the hundredth time. “You're already doing it,” he murmurs. “But don’t think you can stop there.”

He leans in, brushing his lips just barely across yours. It’s not a kiss—it’s a threat of one, a promise, a game.

You rise up into it, eyes slipping closed as you press your mouth to his—soft, then deeper, until the kiss spirals into something breathless and consuming. Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging, pulling him closer. He groans against your mouth, the sound deep and low, and for a flicker of a moment, he loses control.

You feel him shift—no longer the teacher, the strategist, but just a man who wants you, who can’t stop himself.

You gasp between kisses, breathless, “I need you to help me—please, Sylus—”

That’s what does it. The moment you say it, soft and trembling against his lips, he breaks.

“Oh, kitten…” His voice is strained now, eyes dark as he pulls you up onto the desk with a strength and urgency that doesn’t startle you—it thrills you. “You’re a quick learner,” he breathes, mouth finding yours again. “I’m so proud of you.”

Every movement is deliberate, a worship in motion. He touches you as if you’re something sacred—the moment you reached for him, he stopped being a man and became something softer, something devoted. His hands aren’t rushed or greedy. They’re reverent. Slow. Exploring the outline of your waist, mapping a territory he’s dreamed of claiming.

His fingers brush beneath your shirt, tracing heat along your skin, and you shiver—in the way his touch asks, never demands. His lips follow, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck, your shoulder, your chest—pausing to breathe you in, eyes fluttering closed in prayer.

And yet, as much as he gives, you take. You unbutton his shirt with a patience that drives him mad, fingertips dancing over each newly exposed inch of skin. You kiss the hollow of his throat, the center of his chest, the places no one sees but you. He’s undone by the way you look at him—not as the calculating strategist, not as the sharp-tongued manipulator—but as a man. Your man.

You whisper his name, kneeling at his waist, making his breath stutter.

The feel of him so hard in his pants sending shivers up your spine. You look up to him as you unbutton his pants, the tension thick as you reach for him. His breath hitches, eyes closing in the quiet surrender to the moment. You watch his jaw loose , eyes fluttering closed, the warmth pooling in his cheeks and the edges of his ears. You move slowly, savoring the intimacy, your own breath ragged, unsteady.

“Kitten,” he purrs as you lower yourself, your lips replacing your hand, flattening your tounge around the underside of his shaft. His fingers thread through your hair as you take him in, his grip tightening when you hollow your cheeks.

The way he moans your name turns you into his mirror, making your own skin flush. His voice is slow and warm with his truth. He is so honest and accepting of his actions and it’s contagious.

His eyes flutter shut, lashes kissing flushed cheeks, and you can feel how close he is to falling apart.
Every muscle in his body tightens, straining under the weight of restraint.
His hands grip the edge of the desk behind you, not to steady himself—but to keep from collapsing completely.

“Sweetie, please” his head tips back in a groan as your tounge swirls his tip.

You hum your approval and his hips jolt in response at the vibration. Slowing your pace, you let your lips linger as they trail back up his stomach, the heat of his skin beneath your mouth causing your chest to tighten with the growing desire.

You tug him back to you by the collar, and he follows without hesitation, lips finding yours again in a kiss that’s deeper, needier. It’s less polished now—less than worship, more than surrender.

Your hands slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans into your mouth. That sound—raw and honest—ignites something in you. You guide him back with a push, your thighs parting around his hips, his weight settling against you. It feels right—the way your bodies puzzle piece into the places that were always meant to fit.

He kisses you, memorizing this—if the world were to burn, this is the memory he’d hold onto. And when you pull his shirt off fully, dragging your hands down his back, exhaling your name.

“You’re killing me,” he whispers into your skin, voice ragged, eyes dark. “And I’d let you.”

And still—you don’t stop.
You don’t rush.
You don’t need to, because every kiss, every breath, every press of your body against his is a quiet unraveling. He’s never been taken apart like this—by kindness, by softness.

He lets you strip him of his walls, of his pride, of every defense he’s ever built.
He lets you see him raw and human and yours.

Your fingers trail across his skin with reverence, brushing along the line of his jaw, down the curve of his chest, leaving goosebumps in your wake. He leans into your touch as a man starved—greedy for affection but never allotted the ability to ever ask.
But now, with you, there is no pride. Only need.

The way your lips find his again—slow, deep, devastating—makes his breath hitch.

He’s trembling beneath the softness of your touch, undone by the tenderness no enemy could ever touch him with.
No one’s ever made him feel this safe, this wanted—this unguarded.

But you don’t let him go just yet.
You hold him there.
Right on the edge.
Your mouth hovers above his skin, your breath brushing hot and slow, driving him further into the tension.
His fingers twitch at your waist, desperate, aching to pull you closer—but he doesn’t.
He won’t.
Not without your permission.

You whisper against his ear, “Is this the control you want me to have?”

He shudders. The breath he exhales is sharp, caught between a groan and a plea.
His voice is nearly broken. “You’re going to destroy me.”
There’s no venom in it—only awe. Only wonder.
Because even at the edge of his undoing, Sylus still can't believe you’re real.

He lets out the faintest laugh—breathless, breath-catching. It’s not amusement—it’s disbelief, reverence, the sound of someone on the verge of breaking open in the most beautiful way.

Then his forehead drops to your shoulder, lips brushing your skin as he exhales, shaky and hot. You feel the tension in his body—every muscle pulled tight, trembling from restraint and need.

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but there’s nothing light about it. It’s desperate, aching.
“Please,” he says—barely a whisper, it costs him something. “Let me… I need to be inside you.”
His voice breaks open, vulnerable in a way only you have ever witnessed. “Let me ride it out with you. Let me finish this with you.”

You run your fingers through his hair, cradle the back of his neck, and guide him to you with a soft, wordless nod. He lifts his head slowly, eyes burning into yours—dark with longing, glassy with emotion. You’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

And when you finally give in—when you guide him where he’s aching to be—his hands find your hips, but there’s no urgency in the way he touches you. Just awe. Just care.

His movements are slow but intentional— he’s savoring every second with you. You cling to him, pulling him even closer, keep him yours, to make this moment stretch.

He looks at you breaking him open—but not to hurt him.

To free him.

He’s never known softness could hold so much power. His lips find your throat, your jaw, your collarbone—not with hunger, but reverence. Kissing you is a prayer.

His forehead presses to yours, his breath fanning across your skin. “You know I’m yours,” his voice a rugged whisper. His belief wrapped in certainty. You hum in agreement, your body trembling against your will to keep the power he wants for you.

He grits his teeth, his fingers gripping your waist, trying not to lose himself too soon. “Kitten—” His voice is hoarse, tight with restraint. “You're going to ruin me.”
You smile softly,

“Maybe that’s what you need.”

His hand slides in your hair gently honoring you. The room is warm with the scent of sweat and his fireplace. You can feel a bead of moisture slide down your chin as he cages you in his arms. Each thrust sends you spiraling closer, your fingers clawing at his back as your body tightens around him. Each breath in your ear twinkling down your spine.

He doesn’t take.

He gives.

A groan of genuine pleasure slips from his lips, raw and true, the sound of relief. The way his chest rises and falls, the way his breath catches, it’s not just the culmination of desire, but the release of a weight that’s been pressure he has to hold.

Your breath catches as he moves—fluid, rhythmic, a quiet worship in motion. He groans against your skin when you clutch at him, and you feel it vibrate through your chest. Every sound he makes is yours, pulled from him by the way you hold him, the way you meet him with every pulse, every breath.

The pleasure builds, hot and all-consuming, and then—blinding, shattering—you break into millions of pieces and float through space. Sylus follows, his grip on you tightening almost desperately, the pressure of his hands grounding you as his body shudders with the force of his release.

No war. No danger.

you both finally let go—
falling together.


Only the sound of your bodies finding stillness in the after, wrapped in the quiet echo of peace.

You meet his eyes—dark, glassy, and sincere.
And you nod.
Because this isn’t about power.
It’s about surrender.

And tonight, the only battle worth fighting,
is the one you lose together.

When the storm has quieted and the desk is no longer a battlefield but a quiet place of afterglow and breathless laughter, he holds you in his lap, cheek resting on your shoulder.

“That,” he says, lips brushing your skin, “is how you make me concede.”

You hum—grateful to know, but aching all the same. His return to the Big Bad Boss was never yours to stop. Never his to escape.

“I think I want more lessons.”

He chuckles against your throat, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Then you’ll have to stay close. This curriculum’s private.”

[addicsvt]

7:20am

pairing - est!relationship dk x reader genre - tooth-rotting fluff word count - 150 warnings - i don't think there's anything synopsis - "to you, whose smile is brighter than a million suns" a/n - super short drabble!!! i luv my dude kisser <333

You wake up, again. It almost feels like a chore having your alarm ruin your perfect dream and having to get out of your lovers embrace. The sun's rays escape through the curtain, almost blinding you. Your about to sit up when a hand draped around your waist stops you in your tracks.

"Dont go.." Your boyfriend muttered sleepily. You smiled softly, you could easily push his hand away but you don't. You lean back resting your head on the pillows.

"You actually listened?" He questioned slightly awake now, you'd usually refuse his antics and go to work anyways even though his pout would make you want to run back into his arms.

"I had to, no? Seeing you pout like that every morning is doing something to me." You say, slightly protesting but you don't mean it. Dokeyeom smiles softly to your response, a smile that reaches his eyes. Suddenly the suns rays don't seem so blinding anymore.

ADDICSVT 2024

[donutenthusiast]

When I say I need rengoku in my arms, this is what I mean.

You can't tell me he doesn't come home at early hours just run into your arms like this, falling asleep beside you, still in his uniform, holding you oh so tightly in his sleep until noon, and you don't even complain, I mean how could you? He's home isn't he? He's safe, he's alive, and he's now in your arms again, just like he promised.

I'm down bad for this man

This obsession is getting out of hand...

[theoreticalfishsticks]

I love all of the Primarch children content people make, especially the discussions about how potentially horrific the pregnancy would be for the baseline mother, and I wanted add my own little spin on it. So here's the pitch:

What if they weren't perfect? What if, instead of superhuman demigods like their father - or even a normal, healthy baseline like their mother - the Primarch’s child is a weak and sickly little thing; the natural gestation process having been unable to properly compensate for the extraordinary weirdness that is Primarch genes?

'Cause, they were made in a lab, right? With each gene painstakingly implemented and worked to compensate for oneanother in order to create a viable being. So, what if without outside intervention their genes just can't healthily gel with a baseline's?

So, what the couple had thought was the baby sapping their mother of her vital nutrients to fuel a Primarch's level of growth and strength was actually their baby fighting tooth and nail to develope at all. And even after having taken such a steep toll on their mother's health, the child still comes out small and underdeveloped, barely clinging to life.

That's it, that's the idea. Primarchs with chronically ill and disabled children because of their fucked up genes. Send tweet.

[yourfavouritebookseller]

The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams

3rd book read in 2025

[iiseult]

High Noon Sunlight (Masterlist)

Chapter One: A Game of Chess (3.4k words)

Chapter Two: As Queen of Jerusalem (5.2k words)

Chapter Three: The Sapphire of Jerusalem (3.1k words)

Chapter Four: My Dear Little Wife (3.3k words)

Chapter Five: Golden Cross (3.5k words)

[etherealising]

each day, you’d rise with me know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty.

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: eva jerimovich is one of the best students you’ve ever had the joy of teaching, but when your life unexpectedly becomes entangled with her insufferable father’s you find yourself feeding into the less than pleasant anger he brings out in you. both of you fall into a fast tension filled battle of will they won’t they as you unknowingly stoke each other’s flame.

warning(s): implied age gap | angst | language | arguing | teacher x parent relationship | smut | each chapter has own individual warnings |

a buried and a burning flame

flew like moth to you ❥

[arieswritez]

Just thinking about pervy Mark rn…. Giggles

I think he should be nasty.. a lil gross,, That would be hawt

mark should allowed to be nasty & gross as a treat!!

cw; MDNI! DARK CONTENT! yan!mark grayson x gn!reader, abusive relationships, manipulation, food tampering, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, scent kink, rape & sexual harassment, mentions of body size (weight fluctuations, implied chub!reader, mark teases reader about it)

he should be allowed to taint your food with his spit and his cum and get hard while he watches you eat it! he should be allowed to put trackers in your car or on your phone! why can't you understand he's just wants to keep you safe?! stop being so ungrateful >:[ !!!!

how do you think it'd make mark feel if something happened to you? or are you that fucking self absorbed that you don't stop to think about how your actions affect those around you? specifically him. your boyfriend who does so much for you.

what if someone got their hands on your cute little body? is that what you want? because mark obviously doesn't want anything happening to you. . but if that's what you really want: he can make that happen.

he won't like it. but if it means teaching you a lesson, he can always hire a few low lives to scare you straight. and it's not like it's hard to find them and reason with them. mark gets a favor and, in return, they don't have to worry about mark - or invincible, as they know him - lurking on their turf.

despite their reputation, they don't do anything too bad. nothing big enough to cause any permanent, physical damage. although he's sure - and hoping - your psyche will take a hit. he specifically advised they not rape you but they do enough to leave you shaking with fear once it's over.

when you come home to him, clothes torn, sobbing about being cornered and groped, he'll be there, soothing and cooing at you,

"babe~ i told you! this is what happens when you wear that while i'm not around! you have to tell me where you are at all times! it wouldn't have happened if i was there!"

mark should be allowed to make you absolutely, completely, A HUNDRED PERCENT!!!! dependent on him!!! he should be allowed to slip things into your drinks that make you drowsy and force you to stay the night. he should be allowed to set up a cute little camera in the corner of the room, facing his bed, and film himself slipping his hand into your underwear while you sleep! you wouldn't believe the sounds you make while you're passed out <3

he should be allowed to give you medication that causes your weight to fluctuate! & he's allowed to be a little mean about it, too ;( to pinch your chubby cheeks or your softening belly, grab your rolls and say, "you're lucky i love you so much ~"

he should be allowed to use your throat as leverage when he fucks you from behind!!! he should be allowed to stick his thumb/stuff his fingers into your hole while he strokes you or eats you from the back!! he should be allowed to paint your back and/or belly with sticky white cum while you're throbbing for him. he should be allowed to make excuses !!! oh, i hafta go. cecil needs me. im tired. get yourself off, you can do that, can't you?

or just a blatant, "no. you don't deserve to."

mark should be allowed to throat fuck you until your face is covered with tears and snot and he should be allowed to laugh at you and plug your nose while you choke around him!

he should be allowed to force you to your knees & tongue at his balls the second he steps into the house despite the fact that he hasn't showered the day's worth of sweat and grime off of him! you should BE GRATEFUL HIS DICK IS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!

mark is a good bf! and you shouldn't complain!! no one will love you the same way he does!!

[yourpalghost]

I really liked that scene in Ace In The Hole from the most recent chapter! And while I don't think this is exactly how it was in the story, this is how it felt to me.

Ace In The Hole is by the wonderful @certified-handler and is a continuation of her story Dealer's Choice . A truly wonderful set of stories that regularly have me on the edge of my seat.

Also please appreciate the dust i drew

[angelofsmalldeaath]

sunlight — a.h.b.

cw: fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, hangovers, gets suggestive at the end, general fluff and sappiness

his head pounds when he cracks an eye open.

it’s a brave first step (even though he regrets it instantly) if he’s being quite honest with himself, to open his eyes while he’s facing the window directly. predictably enough, his drunk self did forget to close the black-out curtains the night before and so now he must suffer while a pesky little sunbeam dances on the bed like a woodland fairy. 

“there you are,” the voice is whispered, quiet. his frown turns into a smile instantly at the sound of it. 

“here i am…” he croaks out, then clears his throat and grimaces at how dry it feels. “you were gone for a day and look at me now. an absolute state.”

it’s meant to come off as teasing, as a light little joke but the headache makes it come off whinier than he intends. he frowns, hopes she would not notice and take it as a joke instead. then he buries his face back in the pillow. 

seconds later, the bed dips under her weight and he feels light scratches on his scalp, fingers combing through the thick tangle of his hair, getting them out of his face. when he next opens his eyes, she’s blocking the sunlight. 

“you went out drinking because i was out of town?” she teases. “i thought you could handle your alcohol. not very irish of you.”

“went to drown my sorrows in whiskey, yes.” through barely open eyes he sees her pretty smile, the halo of sunlight around her head. “missed you so much,” he mumbles and shifts his head into her lap. “hate it when i have to go to bed alone.”

“i imagine you weren’t sober enough to know the difference…”

he tsks. “i always know the difference. ‘s cold without you, a proper tundra. the colours dim and birds don’t chirp and—”

“you’re so dramatic!” her laugh echoes around the room, bounces around in his skull like it’s the only thought his brain wants to retain. like it’s the only sound that should ever exist. “well…i’m supposed to take care of you now, is it? make you coffee and hangover cures, kiss your booboos better—”

“i’ll take the kisses,” he quips, laughing when she obliges within an instant. warmth envelopes him when she bends to place tiny kisses on his face. one, then another, then another until there’s a million small kisses that leave them both giggling and breathless. 

until he yanks her by the waist and pulls her on top of him. 

“got you, can’t get away from me now, can you?”

“i wasn’t trying to!” she shrieks, giggling breathlessly. the sunlight is back on them, he realises, more than one sunbeam now that the sun’s climbed up higher in the sky. patterns of leaves so clear on the white duvet and birdsong. sweet, clear birdsong. 

“i’m glad i took the earlier train,” she speaks right into the crook of his neck. “wouldn’t have caught you so dead asleep otherwise.”

“bet i looked sexy.”

“mmm yes, you drooling on my pillow really gets me going,” she snickers, “you were really clutching onto it for dear life.”

he ignores her playful jab in favour of basking in the cuddles. “make up for yesterday, will you? stay in bed with me. stay like this?” 

“and what if i’m hungry and gasping for coffee?” 

“i’ll make it for you, i’ll get you breakfast in bed. anything, darling. anything to get you to stay.”

“thought i was supposed to take care of you today.” she shifts, places her chin on his shoulder and lays on her stomach. 

it’s better this way, he can really see every shade in her eyes in the soft, golden light; can see the precise length of her eyelashes and the exact shape of her eyes. he can see the tiny spot on her lip that she’s chewed on—it’s redder than the rest of her lip, has a tiny dent on it too and he wishes he were the one biting on it, wishes he could swallow up her soft sounds.

she flushes. “somehow i no longer think you’re hungover.”

“and what gave that away, hmm?”

the hint of shyness in her eyes gives way to a mischievous gleam. lithely, she slips out of his grip and gets on top of him, right on his lower stomach, hands between her thighs and on the sliver of skin visible from his t-shirt riding up. 

“you were right before,” she bites her bottom lip. the dent deepens, the red turns darker. “you did look sexy.”

“oh yeah?” he smirks at her lazily, feeling the heat in his stomach. “let's do something about that then, hmm?”

a heartbeat passes. she hums and nods. without losing another second, he grabs her hips. and then he pulls them both under the covers. 

[drippingmoon]

Remains of a Night | Aberration of Sunlight: Beta stage!

Hello to everyone! I'm super happy and excited to announce that another one of my wips has reached beta stage. It's a series of two books: with Remains of a Night being the first, and Aberration of Sunlight wrapping up the story. Like before, if anyone would like to give a wee fellow writer a hand, I'd beam in gratitude☺ If not -- if you could at least boost this post, that'd be delightfully kindly of you. ❤

Sign-up period: till April 10

Genre: sci-fi horror, taking place on either an icy planet, or in the dead of cosmic space, as we're on the runnnn

Long story long (both books' blurb):

In purple fields of forget-me-nots, a broken helmet rests. It's the Fourth Dive of Procyon.

The Beast of the Deep Night has long turned into a cataclysm. Now it vies to extinguish humanity. The stars are slowly being tugged its way, and one day they will all Dive inside its void maw. This is the current outlook, in the planets' neon nights of bleakness and numbness. Alexander Madigan, police Superintendent of his planet, is definitely not where he should be. But with the world at an end, and a distress call breaking the silence of his office, he decides to investigate the truth behind the cataclysm. Even if that may draw its lambent eye his way.

He doesn't think his life matters more than the young marine's on the other end, who he wishes he could bring home.

Ages before their reality, the crew of another ship does its best to preserve their own lives. Things have become complicated though: with the addition of a new recruit, and while the Beast is merely a cautionary tale in their time, their impression is that it might have just come to their ship. Nor does it bode well that they have the most selfish human on the journey with them.

Word count: 120k, 123k respectively (RoaN and AoS)

Warnings: gore, body horror, suicidal thoughts, ableism (intentional and unintentional)

This all started out of my love for Halo, (if you share it, I salute you!💞) and for the idea of a creature that could hear the whisperings of the universe to it. Boy, were they bloodthirsty.

What am I looking for?

It's an advanced draft, I went ham on the editing!🥳🤣 so if any typos have dodged my attention... (they always do, the little fuckers), I will be super grateful if you found them. Otherwise, the standard; characters, plot, odd phrasing (this isn't 'quiv, so the writing is standardly clear. Still, if there's anything that makes you squint, I want to know). I do have lists of questions for each chapter, but you can opt out of it and comment free style.

Honestly, I just want your direct thoughts, and if there happens to be someone who's an expert on people who have had one arm devoured... that's a sensitivity beta I could use!🤩

Inconsistencies! Orrrr... if something just so feels like it used to have 5 more chapters on it and now it looks like a visitor from another timeline. Whoops.

Your emotions! Let me eat them! What moments stayed with you, and which had you feel particularly meh! More than everything else on this list, this is the most important one to me.🥹

Very preferably, that you read both books. However, it's purely optional.

What can you expect?

Two pretty word documents! We can talk as much or as little as you want. I do enjoy making friends, though🤭

No deadlines. Having been a beta reader myself more than a handful of times, I know how hard it is. Nevertheless, please do make sure you actually want to do this, and genuinely like the sound of this series.🧐 I will expect you to keep me updated about your progress (nothing fancy; once per month), so I know I'm not being ghosted. It goes without saying you can drop it whenever you want! Just inform me. That way, I'm not waiting, and I can move ahead with my baby. And you've something off your conscience. Win-win.

!! Since I've never shared snippets here, you can absolutely ask for a sample two chapters and decide.

That's it! Thanks for eyeballing this post, and I hope to see some of you! I am genuinely curious and excited about your thoughts, and hopefully someone will have the time🤩💞 for the sign-ups, you can contact me in my DMs, or comment here, and I'll reach out to you! Ta-ta, I'm out! Have a great day!

[coffeebooksandmore]

I’m making it a habit to write in my journal everyday again. It helps so much even if I only write one sentence.

IG: coffeeandbookss

[lorkai]

Concept I have to post before I feel asleep: NRC hosts a Parents' Day for the students' parents to visit their children and everyone is having a relatively fun day with their siblings, every but you. And so you hid yourself in the only place that nobody has a reason to go; Ramshackle. Thing is there's someone else who also has the same line of thought. Leona Kingscholar.

Leona, who is always second to Farena. Always the second prince, never just Leona. Leona, who efforts doesn't mean anything and nobody really tried to understand him, this Leona, who despite being smug and sarcastic all the time, doesn't want to meet his family.

And you both have an interesting chatting while drinking (whatever you want really but I just got back from my cousin's marriage and wine is a really good choice). By the end of the night you may have found you a new bestie or lovers, or whatever you want y'all to be, he feels seen by you and you have someone you can confide in on your darkest hours. This arrangement couldn't be better for the both of you.

[fallminlove]

[01:45]

This was one of the biggest moments in your life, you stood in the middle of the unfurnished living room, surrounded by various cardboard boxes and plastic tubs, you have moved in to your very own house.

You looked around the place, this was a house you toured a little while ago. What really made this place sold on you, was how much natural lighting you get from the large french windows that peers into the backyard.

The weather was starting to feel a bit more warmer, the grass, the trees are slowly coming back to life. You walked to sit next to the windows, allowing yourself to bathe in the sunlight.

When you sat your feet accidentally kicked a beautiful gift box, you don’t recognize where that is from but the content of the box starts tumbling out.

Scattered around you were envelopes of various sizes and colors, you picked one up and saw the front and immediately felt flustered, “To: Seokminnie”, the front reads, it was a love letter you wrote to him when you first started dating.

You started writing letters to Seokmin because you guys became long distance. Yes, cell phones existed but sometimes you see a silly little card in store that reminds you of him, or when you go on vacation and wants to send him a postcard of where you are now, sending letters to each other was just a normal thing in your relationship.

It has been a while since you guys wrote letters back and forth with each other, since just a couple years ago Seokmin has moved back into town and moved into your apartment. And while seeing each other everyday, the letter sending tradition also faded out.

You opened up the envelope, to see the letter that was inside. In that letter you basically made it sound like a diary, telling him what you did through out the week, and how much you missed him.

You went through a couple of of the envelopes to see all the letters and cards you’ve written him or sent him, some were heartfelt, some were straight up for giggles, some were even just encouragement notes you left him when you lived together in your last apartment.

You were so immersed in looking through all of the letters, you didn’t even hear that Seokmin was huffing, carrying in the last moving box in and setting it next to you, “you’re already unpacking without me?!” Seokmin says with a pout, “what are you reading and smiling about?” He peeks from your shoulder.

“I’m going through all of the letters and cards I sent you!” You said as you held them up for him to see, “I didn’t know you kept all of these!”

“Of course I kept these! I used to read them when I felt homesick, but now,” He pauses, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into an affectionate hug, “I have my home with me.”

[sunlight-s0ngbird]

Don't fall away from me

Yandere Cowboy/bounty hunter x Female! Reader first time meeting headcanons This was requested by @lavandulawrites Summary: Elio had gone around the entire west for his job, meeting new people and knowing hundreds. It's odd that he's now meeting poor, sweet you. Warnings: Toxic relationship, yandere content, mention of violence but not descriptive, not specifically feminine and can be seen as gender neutral but has female reader in mind. Word count: 1.1k ⭒✮⭒

Elio knew the west like the back of his palm, it was almost instinct. He knows the faces of hundreds and knows how they celebrate him and his captures. Sadly, that day wasn’t today. He found himself in a saloon in Nevada, having yet again let an outlaw named Daya Gallager slip between his fingers.

It was almost immediately that he noticed you. You swooped into the room, selling objects you got from a pawn shop, which he didn’t fully believe was legal but that didn’t matter. Elio had never seen you before, he knew nearly everyone that was anyone and he didn’t know you.

You had made your way to the barstool next to him, setting your bag of trinkets in front of you and getting a drink for yourself with the money you were given. Elio couldn’t help staring.

“You from around here?” Elio asked you suddenly, his accent thick with each word. He knew it went against code to randomly ask someone about themselves, but he just needed to know! Turning his attention from you to the bottle in his hands, his lips drew back to a smile to make you feel a little bit more willing to answer.

“Yeah,” you nod and take the glass the bartender gave you. Elio slowly nodded and drank again. He should have known you; he knew everyone… maybe he missed you when he would have traditionally met someone. Oh well.

Elio spent the rest of the time getting to know you, learning you were a traveling pawn shop, getting things from buyers and going around the west with beautiful golds, silvers, and pearls. You were fascinating, truly. He couldn’t pinpoint what felt off about you. Maybe it was because you were nomadic or that you dressed so differently than he was traditionally used to. He couldn’t register why but didn’t want to let that feeling go.

He is beyond obsessive and knows about it. Hell, his father told him “If you want things done, you can’t take a simple no”, so why is it bad that he wants you on his arm? It’s not harming anyone, especially not him. He’d enjoy it beyond words.

When the night ends and you go off to leave the town, something just makes him want to follow suit. It’s your softness. Yeah, that’s the reason! You’re so kind and Elio has met so many cruel people, you need to be kept safe or else you’ll die like so many innocent people already have.

You had left for northern California since you heard some towns were getting larger populations and you felt they would be interested in your finds. It was only half the trip there when you found Elio following you through the woods.

“Elio?” You call over the sloshing of the river water. You move to sit on your knees, moving your legs from the water. He froze behind the trees before moving out from behind the greenery.

“Isn’t it odd seeing you. You’re moving northwest too?” He remarked and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets to stop them from getting so sweaty. He could only hope you didn’t ask questions about Daya’s whereabouts or if he was really following a bounty.

Once he gets the courage to confess his love for you, it could go one of two ways. You accept and he’s a lot kinder to you or you decline, and he starts following you around the west.

Elio is far kinder when it comes to you accepting, placing a kiss on your knuckle before stating (not asking) where you’ll go to have your first date. He’ll be extra sweet to you. He wouldn’t allow your hands to his face for a while, if you dared touch his face, you might have asked if he was sick. It wasn’t his fault, of course, it was yours for being so pretty.

Though, he doesn’t have a good history with relationships at all. Elio doesn’t believe you truly love him. He knows he’s nice and good at many things, he’s had women ask him out before, even some men too. But there’s only so much he can think is your own doing, especially when it comes to loving him.

Elio would hear you say, “I love you” and wonder if you truly meant it, and it would lead to so much distrust with constantly needing to prove that you should be satisfied with being with him and not needing to be with him just because he said so. That isn’t to say Elio doesn’t get jealous easily. He’s obsessed with you, why wouldn’t he get jealous when you talk to another man, whether he’s a buyer or not.

Declining wouldn’t have the same reaction though. He’s already shown so many signs he’s in love with you, so it just doesn’t make sense in his head. Elio would freeze and start asking why you did not love him. Was it because you realized he had been following you? Or was it his clothes or his history?! He wanted every single reason and detail as to why you wouldn’t want him. He won’t accept it, obviously. There must be something wrong with your mind if you can’t see that he’s a good person. Elio’s a good man and a good fit for a husband. He’s a good fit to be your husband.

He will treat you like cattle on several occasions. Elio was raised by a politician and knows how to be a good leader, but he also learned how to be a good herder. You’ll go down to the river, trying to leave his home, and you’ll find yourself right back in his bed. You plan on going to the saloon for a drink, wouldn’t you want to stay with him instead? It’s not safe anyway!

There are positives to living with him, he’s never yelled at you. Elio grew up learning kindness and patience and knows that someone isn’t as willing to listen if he gets so caught in his own feelings. His voice is naturally soft and tender to you, he needs to make you swoon before he really needs to take you.

Elio is naturally a soft and tender person. Even with the violent nature of his job, he’ll be able to lay in bed with you and talk so naturally, as if he didn’t feel like his heart needed to consume you.

“I love you,” you state with a smile, your eyes looking up at the stars hanging above the both of you. The heat in Elio’s cheeks flared at the suddenness of your statement. His deep brown eyes were only seen so wide by the silver stars above. They seemed to match the silver of your items.

“Prove it to me.”

⭒✮⭒

Yandere cowboy/bounty hunter masterlist Welcome board Thank you so much for reading, make sure to request if you feel you have an idea or any questions!