excusemyobsessions

[excusemyobsessions]

This is what I do with my ability to write

Write the most self-indulgent texts you'll ever read

Can you feel it?

Zayne x Reader/You

Genre:  Smut, One Shot, Afab reader Word count: 1580 words

Little note: I'm so sorry for this. Enjoy.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, gender neutral enough but afab reader and there’s descriptions of female anatomy, no use of y/n, cock warming, sex toys (this is what I had in mind), protected sex, bodily fluids found in sex, mild overstimulation, your consensual very light dominance, orgasm, you cum, he cums, everyone cums, use of pet names (honey/baby/love), no evol abilities

(Also posted on AO3)

Minors, please do not interact.

“Don't pull out.”

You reached back, hooking your fingers on Zayne's hip, holding him in place.

His cock was still nestled inside you, half hard, filling, comforting. 

His breath hitched and came out shaky past his kissed red lips. You felt him twitch inside you.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nuzzling the skin right behind your ear.

“Yes, please,” you answered instantly.

He groaned against your skin, more air than sound. His arms circled your waist, pulled you flush against him and held you there.

You hummed your appreciation.

You moved your hips, getting more comfortable, nestling your ass right up to his hips, adjusting him further inside you.

“Go deeper,” you requested of him.

And he did, securing you further against him, his cock sinking just a bit further in.

“You're hot… and you're squeezing me,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“Yes, honey, stay right there,” you begged of him, voice slurred, words almost incoherent.

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his damp temple.

It was hot, very hot.

It was the peak of summer, the room was heated, from the weather and from your previous entanglement.

Zayne had tried being careful, his cock wrapped up in a condom, though it was indeed full, from cumming inside you before. You too were sensitive, your walls fluttered every so often around him.

You reached for the bedside table.

Zayne's head moved just a little, clearly following your movements with his eyes.

You dragged open the drawer and pulled out a dildo. A stimulator, air pulse one, a beautiful purple color.

You pressed the button to test it, smiling as you found it had a charged battery. Then you turned it off again.

“I just wanna try it…” you explained, sheepishly.

Your cheeks were definitely flushed, if not from the heat of your burning bodies entangled, then from shame, despite his cock being buried deep inside you.

Despite the many times it had crossed your mind, it was the first time you suggested using toys during sex. Zayne was aware you owned them, but you’d never introduced them to him. There was a certain shame to it, a fear he’d find it awkward or weird or be turned off. You’d imagined sending him pictures while he was on business trips, with your pussy wet and stuffed full with a dildo. Something always stopped you.

One of his hands moved, sliding up, wrist tucked between your breasts, his fingers sprawled out over your chest. You felt his shoulders curl in, encasing you in a protective, tender embrace.

“I don't mind,” he told you, kissing your shoulder. “Whatever makes you feel good.”

And then he suddenly chuckled.

“I can feel your heart pounding. You're excited,” he noted, voice laced with tender amusement, chest full of affection.

You nodded eagerly, smiling into a kiss he pressed on your cheek.

You moved one hand up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, securing his hand against your chest, making sure he kept a steady hold of your heart. He stroked your skin with his thumb, peppered a few more kisses over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he encouraged you.

He was perfect. That man was perfect.

You moved your leg a little, to slip the toy between your thighs, placing it right against your clit. It slipped right into place, aided by how wet you still were. Then you turned it on.

The little device buzzed to life, sucking right where you wanted it to, on that little swollen and needy bundle of nerves. Your hips rocked involuntarily.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Zayne groaned against your skin, and you could feel his thighs tremble against yours.

“I’m too... deep inside but I can feel it… at the base,” he responded, voice unsteady.

You pressed the button to up the vibrations. Both of you moaned, Zayne breathlessly against your neck and you, an open mouthed, delighted moan.

“I can feel it better now,” he mumbled.

“Stay right there, please,” you begged.

He hummed out his response or appreciation, or both at once.

The stimulator stayed pressed up to your clit, and with a few more pumps you could feel his hips twitch against your ass, with pure restraint. He was rock hard inside you and you could feel him twitch against your walls.

“You're squeezing me, love,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“Stay like that just a little more,” you asked.

Zayne was clearly holding himself back at that point, waiting for your permission to move. The kisses he pressed over the length of your shoulder were hotter, more urgent, with a clear need to taste your skin. His hand, sprawled over your chest, held you tight against him, pressed you back into his mouth. He nibbled on your skin, ran his tongue over the spots his teeth had barely sunk into.

You pressed the button again, upping the stimulation just a little more. Your hips buckled into the toy and you felt his cock slip out a bit. Unhappy, you groaned and pressed your ass back against him. His cock went in so deep you both moaned, Zayne noticeably shaking against you.

“Baby, I-...” he murmured, squeezing your body against his.

You turned your head to kiss the flexing bicep that served as a pillow for your head.

“You can move,” you told him.

And he groaned against your skin, thankful, very clearly nearing his limit from the brand new sensations. He rolled back his hips and thrust deep into you again, and then again and again. You moaned out his name and he groaned prettily against your shoulder.

You moved your hand down to secure the toy against your clit as he rocked his hips against yours. He slotted his chin on the curve of your shoulder, his temple pressed to your cheek, a very clear layer of sweat covering his skin. You were both sweaty and sticky but his cock, sliding in and out of you combined with the stimulation from the toy was too dizzying for you to care.

“You’re squeezing me so good, baby… I won’t last…”

You adored how his voice sounded. Strained, slurred, with a clear touch of bliss and the incoherence of someone who felt so good they could barely think. You too were in the same situation, tears prickling in your eyes, threatening to trickle down your cheeks, your mouth wide open, spilling the most embarrassing lewd sounds, the roof of your mouth dry by the desperate intake of air that seemed to not be enough for your lungs.

“Cum for me, baby,” you moaned.

Zayne groaned and pressed you even tighter against him, as if you could slip away if he let even an inch of distance between your bodies.

“Turn it up,” he slurred between thrusts.

And you did, pressing the button to up the frequency of the toy further.

Tears instantly flowed down your cheeks, sliding over the skin of his arm. His fingers slipped into your hair, tucked and secured your head against his collar bone as he drilled into your wet pussy. His thrusts were merciless now, the moans that fell from his lips unrestrained, the urgency in his movements palpable.

The sounds of his cock, wrapped in the condom, slipping in and out of you were as filthy as your moans, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He reverently ravaged your pussy until his hips were stuttering against yours, one last push burying him deep inside you to release. You came undone along with him, convulsing in his arms, having to instantly turn down the pulsing of the toy because the stimulation was far too great.

You rode out your height by rocking your hips against his at a slower pace now, milking him for all he was worth, his sweaty body trembling against yours in overstimulation, the sweetest hums of bliss coming from his throat.

You turned off the toy and abandoned it on the bed somewhere, reaching back to tap his hips. Zayne reached down to gently slip himself out, to allow you then to roll onto your back. Your pussy still clenched around nothing for a little bit.

He himself rolled onto his stomach, one of his legs slipping in between yours, your body comfortably half tucked under his. He slipped one arm around your waist and you allowed your hand to rest on his side, counting his ribs one by one as you ran your fingers over his damp skin.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple.

You reached up to cup his cheek, eyebrows furrowing just a little in confusion.

“What for?” you questioned, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He leaned into your touch like a spoiled cat, turned his face to drop a kiss on the palm of your hand.

“For trusting me enough to try new things, and for being open about what you want,” he responded.

His sincerity had your heart squeezing itself into a ball in your chest. You loved this man so much you could barely deal with it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him in for a kiss. First a peck, then another and then you held his mouth to yours, savored his tongue slowly. When you pulled back, he had that dreamy look in his eyes, as if all he could ever want was your mouth on his.

“Thank you, for trusting me too,” you told him.

[excusemyobsessions]

Can you feel it?

Zayne x Reader/You

Genre:  Smut, One Shot, Afab reader Word count: 1580 words

Little note: I'm so sorry for this. Enjoy.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, gender neutral enough but afab reader and there’s descriptions of female anatomy, no use of y/n, cock warming, sex toys (this is what I had in mind), protected sex, bodily fluids found in sex, mild overstimulation, your consensual very light dominance, orgasm, you cum, he cums, everyone cums, use of pet names (honey/baby/love), no evol abilities

(Also posted on AO3)

Minors, please do not interact.

“Don't pull out.”

You reached back, hooking your fingers on Zayne's hip, holding him in place.

His cock was still nestled inside you, half hard, filling, comforting. 

His breath hitched and came out shaky past his kissed red lips. You felt him twitch inside you.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nuzzling the skin right behind your ear.

“Yes, please,” you answered instantly.

He groaned against your skin, more air than sound. His arms circled your waist, pulled you flush against him and held you there.

You hummed your appreciation.

You moved your hips, getting more comfortable, nestling your ass right up to his hips, adjusting him further inside you.

“Go deeper,” you requested of him.

And he did, securing you further against him, his cock sinking just a bit further in.

“You're hot… and you're squeezing me,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“Yes, honey, stay right there,” you begged of him, voice slurred, words almost incoherent.

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his damp temple.

It was hot, very hot.

It was the peak of summer, the room was heated, from the weather and from your previous entanglement.

Zayne had tried being careful, his cock wrapped up in a condom, though it was indeed full, from cumming inside you before. You too were sensitive, your walls fluttered every so often around him.

You reached for the bedside table.

Zayne's head moved just a little, clearly following your movements with his eyes.

You dragged open the drawer and pulled out a dildo. A stimulator, air pulse one, a beautiful purple color.

You pressed the button to test it, smiling as you found it had a charged battery. Then you turned it off again.

“I just wanna try it…” you explained, sheepishly.

Your cheeks were definitely flushed, if not from the heat of your burning bodies entangled, then from shame, despite his cock being buried deep inside you.

Despite the many times it had crossed your mind, it was the first time you suggested using toys during sex. Zayne was aware you owned them, but you’d never introduced them to him. There was a certain shame to it, a fear he’d find it awkward or weird or be turned off. You’d imagined sending him pictures while he was on business trips, with your pussy wet and stuffed full with a dildo. Something always stopped you.

One of his hands moved, sliding up, wrist tucked between your breasts, his fingers sprawled out over your chest. You felt his shoulders curl in, encasing you in a protective, tender embrace.

“I don't mind,” he told you, kissing your shoulder. “Whatever makes you feel good.”

And then he suddenly chuckled.

“I can feel your heart pounding. You're excited,” he noted, voice laced with tender amusement, chest full of affection.

You nodded eagerly, smiling into a kiss he pressed on your cheek.

You moved one hand up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, securing his hand against your chest, making sure he kept a steady hold of your heart. He stroked your skin with his thumb, peppered a few more kisses over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he encouraged you.

He was perfect. That man was perfect.

You moved your leg a little, to slip the toy between your thighs, placing it right against your clit. It slipped right into place, aided by how wet you still were. Then you turned it on.

The little device buzzed to life, sucking right where you wanted it to, on that little swollen and needy bundle of nerves. Your hips rocked involuntarily.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Zayne groaned against your skin, and you could feel his thighs tremble against yours.

“I’m too... deep inside but I can feel it… at the base,” he responded, voice unsteady.

You pressed the button to up the vibrations. Both of you moaned, Zayne breathlessly against your neck and you, an open mouthed, delighted moan.

“I can feel it better now,” he mumbled.

“Stay right there, please,” you begged.

He hummed out his response or appreciation, or both at once.

The stimulator stayed pressed up to your clit, and with a few more pumps you could feel his hips twitch against your ass, with pure restraint. He was rock hard inside you and you could feel him twitch against your walls.

“You're squeezing me, love,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“Stay like that just a little more,” you asked.

Zayne was clearly holding himself back at that point, waiting for your permission to move. The kisses he pressed over the length of your shoulder were hotter, more urgent, with a clear need to taste your skin. His hand, sprawled over your chest, held you tight against him, pressed you back into his mouth. He nibbled on your skin, ran his tongue over the spots his teeth had barely sunk into.

You pressed the button again, upping the stimulation just a little more. Your hips buckled into the toy and you felt his cock slip out a bit. Unhappy, you groaned and pressed your ass back against him. His cock went in so deep you both moaned, Zayne noticeably shaking against you.

“Baby, I-...” he murmured, squeezing your body against his.

You turned your head to kiss the flexing bicep that served as a pillow for your head.

“You can move,” you told him.

And he groaned against your skin, thankful, very clearly nearing his limit from the brand new sensations. He rolled back his hips and thrust deep into you again, and then again and again. You moaned out his name and he groaned prettily against your shoulder.

You moved your hand down to secure the toy against your clit as he rocked his hips against yours. He slotted his chin on the curve of your shoulder, his temple pressed to your cheek, a very clear layer of sweat covering his skin. You were both sweaty and sticky but his cock, sliding in and out of you combined with the stimulation from the toy was too dizzying for you to care.

“You’re squeezing me so good, baby… I won’t last…”

You adored how his voice sounded. Strained, slurred, with a clear touch of bliss and the incoherence of someone who felt so good they could barely think. You too were in the same situation, tears prickling in your eyes, threatening to trickle down your cheeks, your mouth wide open, spilling the most embarrassing lewd sounds, the roof of your mouth dry by the desperate intake of air that seemed to not be enough for your lungs.

“Cum for me, baby,” you moaned.

Zayne groaned and pressed you even tighter against him, as if you could slip away if he let even an inch of distance between your bodies.

“Turn it up,” he slurred between thrusts.

And you did, pressing the button to up the frequency of the toy further.

Tears instantly flowed down your cheeks, sliding over the skin of his arm. His fingers slipped into your hair, tucked and secured your head against his collar bone as he drilled into your wet pussy. His thrusts were merciless now, the moans that fell from his lips unrestrained, the urgency in his movements palpable.

The sounds of his cock, wrapped in the condom, slipping in and out of you were as filthy as your moans, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He reverently ravaged your pussy until his hips were stuttering against yours, one last push burying him deep inside you to release. You came undone along with him, convulsing in his arms, having to instantly turn down the pulsing of the toy because the stimulation was far too great.

You rode out your height by rocking your hips against his at a slower pace now, milking him for all he was worth, his sweaty body trembling against yours in overstimulation, the sweetest hums of bliss coming from his throat.

You turned off the toy and abandoned it on the bed somewhere, reaching back to tap his hips. Zayne reached down to gently slip himself out, to allow you then to roll onto your back. Your pussy still clenched around nothing for a little bit.

He himself rolled onto his stomach, one of his legs slipping in between yours, your body comfortably half tucked under his. He slipped one arm around your waist and you allowed your hand to rest on his side, counting his ribs one by one as you ran your fingers over his damp skin.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple.

You reached up to cup his cheek, eyebrows furrowing just a little in confusion.

“What for?” you questioned, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He leaned into your touch like a spoiled cat, turned his face to drop a kiss on the palm of your hand.

“For trusting me enough to try new things, and for being open about what you want,” he responded.

His sincerity had your heart squeezing itself into a ball in your chest. You loved this man so much you could barely deal with it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him in for a kiss. First a peck, then another and then you held his mouth to yours, savored his tongue slowly. When you pulled back, he had that dreamy look in his eyes, as if all he could ever want was your mouth on his.

“Thank you, for trusting me too,” you told him.

[excusemyobsessions]

I updated the blog guide with just a little information about me so people won't think I'm a child when I'm actually a shriveled old lady

There's links to everything there, including request guidelines.

I'm considering posting separate masterlists, but Idk yet. What do y'all think? Separate masterlists, or is it fine as it is?

Blog guide

Hi, I’m Mel.

She/Her, 29, very queer, and a little ball of anxiety with very specific hyperfixations.

This blog is not for minors, as I post explicit content.

Will block homophobes and assholes.

Here’s a guide to the main links you’ll need to peruse this blog.

Request guidelines

Love and Deepspace works:

Keep reading

[excusemyobsessions]

Little ramble but I think one of my favorite writers here blocked me and I'm really sad about it

But it's okay, they're right, I'm annoying as heck, I annoy myself too 😅

[excusemyobsessions]

What was it like to be in love?

Mr. Rich and Accomplished Doctor Zayne x Regular citizen(kinda broke) reader (you're trying your best)

Word count: 650 words Warnings: fluff mixed with mild angst, some self deprecating thoughts, economic power imbalance

Little note: mildly inspired by Rinny's work Folded.

What was it like to be in love?

You couldn't remember anymore.

People talked about butterflies taking off in their stomach, their hearts beating out of sync. 

It felt warmth all over from a single fleeting touch, they'd say.

They said you acted strange, weird, awkward in the face of your love interest.

You'd go to bed thinking of them and wake up still thinking of them.

You'd crave them in a way you'd never craved anything in your life. Yearn for them.

So they'd say.

Was that even pleasant? You couldn't remember.

You'd forgotten it all. 

Life moves in many ways, routines and fast paced days, one after another. When you're busy surviving you often forget how to live.

That's when he walked in. Mr. Accomplished Doctor Zayne, married to his work, successful and thriving.

While he seemed to have everything figured out; a house, a stable job, a career, you were still figuring out how to traverse society, how to be more than a stowaway.

He was a genius after all and you, you were just you.

Dr. Zayne Li was more than you could handle. 

Someone so far away from where you stood it was like looking up at mount Everest from the very bottom. 

You watched from afar as he got in his car and drove off to his own house while you walked to the nearest bus station to go home, to the house you shared with your family.

You watched him check the time in a watch that cost double the price of your rent.

His perfume alone would fill up your pantry for a month.

He went on business trips abroad, to study and observe. You went from the ground floor to the top floor to deliver packages to your bosses.

He went on vacation to a sky resort. You went to the park on your days off to get some fresh air.

They say you always want what you can't have, isn't that so?

Beyond all the money and accomplishments, Zayne was just… Zayne.

Sweet tooth Zayne, who got cavities and sucked up the pain because he hated going to the dentist.

Highly serious Zayne, who dropped the most ridiculous dad jokes with the straightest face.

Nature lover Zayne, who mentioned the flowers blooming in the park, the notes of jasmine in your perfume, admired the sun shining through the canopies of trees.

Observant Zayne, who noticed the little bruise on your arm, the rash on your hand, the way you cracked your neck because it hurt after a long day of work.

Careful Zayne, who offered to drive you home, who you watched regulate the thermostat when you didn't even mention you were cold.

And emotionally unavailable Zayne, who struggled with nightmares and inner demons, who barely ever let you see them.

You couldn't remember what it was like to be in love because you too were emotionally unavailable. Surviving was already too much for you and you barely had time to live.

You tried to reason with yourself, excuse the strange reactions you got when Zayne was around.

Your heart beat at a stupidly fast pace when he got closer.

It almost jumped out of your chest when you accidentally touched.

When he looked at you with those Spring-like eyes, all his attention focused on you, listening to your ramblings as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, how could you control your fleeting thoughts?

Was there a way to shoo away all the butterflies who fluttered their wigs furiously when you laid eyes on him?

It was tiring wanting what was so far away from you. Wanting what you couldn't have.

Because he was high up, cherished and worshipped and you, you were just you.

You'd rather continue not knowing what it was like to be in love.

Being in love sounded rather unpleasant anyway.

[excusemyobsessions]

What I wanted.. wasn't it obvious enough??

Surfing gone wrong (nobody cares)

[excusemyobsessions]

My headcanon: MC sewed Zane snowman pajama pants

[excusemyobsessions]

My dearest Zayne,

(A letter to Regency!Zayne aka Mr. Darcy!Zayne)

My dearest Zayne,

It is my utmost wish that this letter finds you well. Be not alarmed upon receiving this letter a mere few days after your departure. It is not my intention to burden you with trivial matters, however, I find myself obliged to communicate my current stance. I find myself afflicted by a sickness. A great sickness. A sickness of the heart caused solely by your absence and I beg of you, sir, to not extend my suffering furthermore than necessary. I find within myself this great sadness that I cannot see you. Sleeping or eating come as a mere obligation, imposed by you as my physician, as I do not find enjoyment in both. When I close my eyes, I find myself engulfed in thoughts of only you. I yearn for the sound of your gentle voice every night when I lay in bed. I find no respite in books for every written word brings this unfathomable boredom to my mind, if they are not written by your hands. You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I find these times in which we are apart to be utmost difficult to bear. I beg, sir, that you may offer me a diagnosis within your vast knowledge and propose then a treatment to this ailment that afflicts me. For it is most inconvenient that my heart aches so without you. I shall wait patiently for your response, hoping that it shall be delivered in person. Yours truly.

Zayne set down the letter, with a tender smile. 

The candle lit by his side illuminated your handwriting and the little pressed flower you'd included with your letter. He picked it up between careful fingers and lifted it up to his nose. The little jasmine still carried its gentle scent; a scent that was so characteristic of you.

His chest rose and dropped with a deep sigh. After setting down the flower, he let his digits run over the ink on the paper, over your playful whines, and true pleas.

He let himself sink into the chair, looking out the window to the great expanse of night sky.

He too wanted to go home.

Just a few more days.

Just a few more hours.

Just a little more until he could finally deliver his response in person. As per your request.

[excusemyobsessions]

😍🧡

Cr: http://xhslink.com/m/299SuzDekPj

[excusemyobsessions]

Xavier would skip the white lines on crosswalks with you and race you to the other side.

(He'll also either play fair or purposely slow down to let you win)

He'll buy you treats when you win the race.

[excusemyobsessions]

2nd work of yours I reblog today but I just happened to catch this right as you posted and damn, I felt it

The body issues, the weight of a whole damn day at work, the need for domesticity and tenderness

This was so gentle and soft and domestic

I need my own Sylus 😭😭😭

What a man he is.

You write him beautifully 🥹💘

Behave

Sylus x fat!fem!Reader

Sylus with a fat partner supremacyyyyy

Warnings: fluff, comfort, silly, established relationship, fat reader, body image, showering together, undressing, nudity, kissing, swearing (I just say ass a few times)

Word Count: 1,679

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third - Fourth LADs Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

You sigh heavily as you drape yourself across Sylus's back. Work was hell. All day, all you could think of was coming back home and being with your beloved boyfriend.

He loosely holds your wrist where your arms circle around him, rubbing his thumb along your pulse. "That bad?"

"You have no idea." You press little kisses along his exposed neck. He smells so good - warm bourbon and sweet vanilla, mixing with a musk all his own. It's addicting. You really should spray his cologne on your sweatshirts (well, technically his sweatshirts, but you practically own them now), even if it can only vaguely emulate being wrapped up in him. "'M gonna take a shower."

"Would you like some company?" You can feel his smirk as he kisses your hand, your wrist, the inside of your elbow.

You playfully pinch his collarbone and he chuckles. "I would if you can behave yourself."

He lets go of your arm. You pull away, leaning your hands on the couch instead as he stands up. Whatever work he had is forgotten. Whatever mission or deal or plan, abandoned without a second thought as he rounds the couch and ducks down to lift you over his shoulder. You laugh despite the weariness in your bones. His arms wrap firmly around your thighs, keeping you secure, as he walks you to the bathroom.

The first time he picked you up hadn't been as carefree as now. You'd been gripped with anxiety and insecurity, squirming against him and hitting his back, demanding he put you down because you're "too heavy". He'd scoffed, as though what you said offended him, and said he would carry you all day if you'd let him. That it wouldn't be any strain on him to do so.

Later on, he'd even made a point to take you down to the gym and work out with you as his weights. You sat on his back while he did push ups, held onto him as he did pull ups, and watched from a safe distance as he doubled your weight for an effortless set of hip-thrusters. You'd never doubted him since.

You trace mindless shapes against his shoulder blades as you watch the rooms go by. He kisses your thigh beside his head, chaste but no less affectionate. "Want to talk about it?" he asks.

"Nothing new: stupid customers with no common sense and all the audacity."

"That's common across all work, I'm afraid." He sets you down on the cold marble counter top, beside the sink. He cages you in with his muscular arms and a smirk. "Let me help you forget about it."

"Behave," you remind him.

He chuckles and dips down to press tender kisses against your neck. "This is me behaving."

"Uh-huh."

With a teasing nip at your pulse and a playful smack to his bicep, he pulls away to start the water. With a few adjustments of the knob, the temperature is perfect. He knows just how you like your showers. You think he has it down to a science, calculating the exact angle of the knob to reach the exact degree for ideal relaxation.

Once the shower is ready, he finds his place between your legs again, the best place in the whole damn mansion. His fingers are rough and calloused, but his touch is tender and sweet. He slips off your shirt with ease. Unclasps your bra with practiced familiarity. Holds you up with one hand while the other drags your pants and underwear down your legs. For as salacious as the man is, this is anything but. It's domestic, comfortable. You know he's not just undressing you to have sex; he's doing it because he loves you and wants to take care of you after the hard day you had.

Once you're bare, you reach out for him. Untuck and unbutton his shirt, slipping it off his arms as he watches on. You undo the button and zipper of his fly. Lean forward as your hands slip into the back of his pants to grab at his butt, pressing little kisses over his heart as he chuckles. "Who needs to behave?"

"These buns hold the secret to perfect relaxation," you murmur against him through giggles. You squeeze his cheeks playfully. They're so juicy. "The best way to end the day, right here."

He kisses your head, grinning wide, at ease with the world. "I’m flattered, sweetie, but the water will get cold if you take your time admiring them.”

You sigh dramatically. But, you relent. You slip your hands out and properly push his pants and underwear down, before sitting back. He kicks them the rest of the way off, discarding them with everything else.

He offers you both of his hands, helping you down off the counter and opening the shower door for you. It's huge, large enough to fit at least 5 people in it. His products are lined up in a row on one shelf, and yours on another. Loofahs - one red and black, one in your favorite color - dangle from little hooks on the wall.

Sylus guides you under the spray first, facing him. You close your eyes, completely surrendering to his care.

His fingers, dangerous and calloused and large, work gently through your hair. He's mindful of any tangles as he scratches soothing patterns into your scalp. You can't help humming in delight. Pleasant shivers tingle down your arms, contrasting the warmth surrounding you - in the steam, from his body, the water.

He pulls his hands away to lather some product in his palms. He works it in perfectly, cleaning away the stress that had you pulling out your hair today. It's all washed away. Washed down your back, down the drain, gone.

He enjoys the process, you think. The routine of caring for you. The order you use your products in, the times to leave them in, the technique of applying them. Loving you in this way is easy for him.

He scrubs your soap into your skin in gentle circles with the loofah. It suds and lathers, cleaning away all the dead skin and grime. He washes your shoulders, your arms, your chest and stomach. Has you turn around so he can wash your back, lingering in spots when he finds an itch you can't reach to scratch. He kneels down in front of you, letting you play with his damp hair as he cleans your legs and mound with reverence. He kisses and nuzzles into your stomach, ticklish, as he reaches around to clean your ass with playful squeezes.

You eagerly rinse the bubbles off to finally take care of him.

He stays kneeling so you can wash his hair without struggling to meet his height. Just like you, he puts his full trust in your hands. His eyes are closed, head tilted back as though he's looking up at you, hands caressing and massaging your aching legs. You scratch his scalp as you incorporate his shampoo into his hair. He hums lowly, almost a purr, as he enjoys every second of it.

Once you've finished his conditioner, he stands, towering over you once more. You put soap on his loofah and get to work: his shoulders, arms, chest and abs. Back, butt. His legs and crotch. You can't help leaving little kisses wherever you go. On his bicep, over his heart, above his belly button, between his shoulder blades, on one ass cheek and then the next. He laughs fondly when you do.

Even once you're both fully cleaned, you linger a while longer. Under the water, holding one another, lazily swaying back and forth, lingering in the moment. You yawn once. Then again, a few moments later. He gently pulls away.

"Come on, sweetie."

From the warm shower to the cold bathroom. He dries you off first, with the fluffiest towel money can afford, nice and warm from the towel heater. He takes care when drying your hair. Wipes away the water on your face and body. Wraps it around you so you're all snug. He doesn't mind drying himself tonight, but he does purposefully leave his hair damp, just to have you roll your eyes and tie your towel around yourself so you can assist. He loves leaning down while you ruffle his hair up, squeezing out the excess moisture from silver strands. You know he does it intentionally, but you can't even pretend to be mad when you love it just as much as he does.

He lifts you up with one arm under your bum for support, your arms around his neck keeping you from falling. You lean into him, resting your tired head against his shoulder as he carries you the short distance from the bathroom to the bedroom.

He sets you down on the edge of the bed. You watch as he gathers your clothes, then his. He kneels down once more to help you dress, slipping your underwear and some shorts up your legs as you draw an oversized t-shirt over your head. When he stands, you help him pull on underwear and sweatpants, playfully kissing his stomach before he can hide it away under a tank top.

He pushes you back onto the mattress, where you land with a soft oof. He crawls over you, framing your head with his hands as he rests some of his weight onto your body, pressing gentle kisses to your lips. “How’d I do?” he hums.

You sigh with pure contentment. Each kiss tastes so sweet. Feels so soft. Feels so special. Each one stealing away every minor annoyance from work; that customer that wouldn’t listen to a word you said just to keep complaining, that coworker who starts drama for no reason, your manager that does nothing to stop either.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him further down on top of you. He lowers himself to his elbows, laying more of his body along yours, pressing you down into the soft bed below. “You were perfect.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @flamedancer13 @moonlight-inthe-sea @persepolys @satorubabee @sleepykittycx @perla-drg @17chuuya @slovesyouuu @atinymekanie @astheskycries @nm4565natty @thegreawizards @zeldaisapuppy @ocharavitys @gaychaosgremlin @aenishas @leiakitty @lemonn015

[excusemyobsessions]

I had this saved for a later time and when I tell you my heart warmed and butterflies took off finally reading it

This was beautiful

His repeated "I love you. I love you. I love you." 💘💘💘

Ahh, Sylus, the man that you are

And listening to Cavetown singing "my love mine all mine" made it better, for sure

There Is No Love Purer Than Mine

Sylus x gn!Reader

Based on a video I can't find where a girl on one of those dating tv shows says "I love you" to a guy, and he asks her to repeat it again and again as his voice cracks. It's always stuck with me, and now I'm pulling it out of cold storage

Warnings: kissing, crying, declarations of love, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 625

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The words stole the air from your lungs. You stare at Sylus, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to breathe, while he has the audacity to lounge nonchalantly against the sofa and watch.

He smirks at your reaction. His arms are stretched along the back of the couch. His sweater steals the intimidation from his face and invites you to curl into his side. You had been, moments ago, but then he said… He said…

“What’s the matter, kitten?” he asks. It’s playful, but his arm falls to brush a hand against your cheek, betraying the real concern behind the bravado.

You swallow. Your voice comes out as a whisper, still breathless and shaky. “Say it again.”

His smirk softens into a smile. He brushes some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Again.”

This time, he sits forward. His other arm reaches out to hold your hand where it sits in your lap. He says it reverently. “I love you.”

It feels like your body has been dunked in a cold bath. Chills run up your arms. Your chest feels tight. He pulls your blanket tighter around you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. “Again…”

“I love you.” He leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I love you.” He cups your cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb. His eyes never leave yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch - pressing your forehead insistently against his, tilting your face into his hand, shifting closer on the couch. Tears stick to your eyelashes before they fall down your cheeks. He brushes them away diligently. You squeeze his hand tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

You nod immediately. His long fingers curl around your jaw, fingertips in your hair, holding you to him.

“I love you.”

It’s so soft you almost don’t feel it. The brush of his lips over yours. If you hadn’t feel his breath warming them, you wouldn’t have realized at all. You crack your eyes open to watch when you tilt your chin up, seeking a full, proper kiss.

He answers your demand. Stuttered and solid breaths merge, gasping every time your lips separate, preparing for the next moment they connect. Over and over. The salt of the popcorn clings to his lips, complimenting the salt of your tears. His tongue carries the distinct fruitiness of his wine as it seeks yours out. Tempered moans and sighs pass between each other.

When he pulls away, you strain your neck forward for more, but he presses his thumb to your lips instead. You blink your eyes open at him, glistening and red from crying.

For a second, you’re scared. Scared he’ll take it back. Scared he’ll toss you aside, laugh in your face, leave you behind. Scared he’ll leave a scar on your heart that will never fully mend.

But he doesn’t.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Under your eye. Over your closed eyelid. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far.

“Come here, my beloved,” he coos as he pulls you into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, bury your wet face into his sweater. He wraps both arms around you, too, a silent promise not to let go.

The movie is just background noise now. You have no idea what’s happening in the story and you can’t give a damn. When you rest your chin against him to look at his face, he’s not watching either.

“I love you…” you whisper, tentative. Testing the shark-infested waters and trusting he’ll save you.

And he does.

“I love you, too, kitten.”

---

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41

[excusemyobsessions]

[excusemyobsessions]

Bringing this back after so long because I just posted a revised/edited version of this on AO3.

I wasn't 100% proud of this one so I decided to go through it again, especially after posting a text with Zayne's version of this same theme.

Edited version is around 1k words.

Wondering if I should edit this version too, to match the one on AO3 tbh

Come on, breathe with me.

Sylus x MC/You

Scenario; Sylus helps you calm down a panic attack, fluff, comfort Word count: 740 words

Warning: description of panic attack, use of pet names (sweetie, kitten)

Edited version on AO3.

You couldn't breathe.

Panic gripped at your chest so tight, it squeezed out the air inside your lungs.

In your mind, you kept telling yourself it was okay over and over again, like a mantra.

You kept trying to remind yourself of your own grounding techniques, the ones that would work every time you were alone.

But you weren't by yourself this time. You craved Sylus' touch, craved his voice like you had never craved it before. All you wanted was to see him, have him tell you it was okay.

You were shaking heavily as your legs carried you towards his office where you found the door slightly open, the gentle melody of a vinyl record drifting out of the room.

Usually, you'd rap your knuckles against the door before you entered but there was just this tightness in your chest, an inexplicable urgency.

When you burst into the room, Sylus' eyes lifted from the stack of documents he was holding to meet yours.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he questioned, instantly standing up.

The stack of documents he was analysing was instantly discarded onto his desk and in a few quick strides he was standing right in front of you, catching your hand which reached out for him within his gentle fingers.

As you told him what had triggered you to the best of your abilities, tears started flowing down your cheeks heavily, blurring your vision and making it hard for you to focus on the crimson eyes which gazed back at you attentively.

He listened to you closely, low encouraging hums rumbling from his chest, a big hand cradling your chin, the pad of his thumb wiping away the heavy tears as they kept falling from your eye.

"Oh, kitten," he cooed and even through the tears you could see his eyes soften.

Their usual cold crimson was warm, a vermillion ocean, so deep and tender.

You squeezed his hand and he let you, without a flinch, his thumb tracing over your knuckles back and forth at a slow, mindful pace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he reassured you in a low tone.

You sobbed and choked all at the same time, the emotions flooding you far too great.

"I c-can't breathe," you told him miserably, gripping onto him like a lifeline.

"Yes, you can. Come on, kitten, breathe with me."

The steadiness in his deep voice was soothing and you felt it in your racing heart.

"Come on, breathe in," and he did it with you, taking in a deep breath at the same time you attempted to.

When you shook your head, assaulted by another wave of sobs, he kept catching your tears, squeezing your hand in his.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he told you, gentle and firm. "There's no rush, take your time."

You wanted to close your eyes and focus on the slow stroking of his thumb over your knuckles but you were terrified he'd slip through your fingers if you did.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Sometimes you were thankful for his ability to predict just what was going through your head, through your heart.

"Come on, breathe with me."

Sylus wasn't demanding but his tone was firm, always steady, like an anchor.

"Deep breath in, can you do that with me?"

And you did, shakily so, along with him.

"That’s it, good. Now out, slowly."

And you let out the air trapped inside your lungs, feeling his warm breath against your wet cheeks as he breathed out along with you.

"Come on, you can do it again. Deep breath in."

And he kept coaxing mindful breaths out of you, his hands never leaving you, eyes locked onto yours the whole time.

When you were finally able to breathe on your own, he reached back for the box tissues on his desk, plucking a few out. Always keeping a point of contact, with his hand still within yours.

"My sweet little kitten," he cooed, turning towards you again.

With a gentle touch, he helped you clean the remains of tears and snot off your face.

"How about we go get you some snacks and huddle up on the couch? We can watch that movie you mentioned?" he offered, thin lips curved by a small, gentle smile.

"What about your work?" you questioned, already being led out of his office.

"It can wait." He shrugged.

[excusemyobsessions]

Telling LaDS men you're gay

Zayne: "Hmm... yes, I know."

*pushes glasses up his nose*

"I'm sorry, did you want me to make a big deal out of it? I've always known, dear."

Xavier: "Oh, congrats. Should we get rainbow cake to celebrate your gayness?"

Rafayel: "Gay as in very happy or gay as in *limp wrist 💁‍♀️* queer? Because either way, good for you!"

Sylus: *rich man laugh* "So am I, sweetie. So what?"

Caleb: "Pipsqueak, I know. I knew the moment you became obsessed with Megara when we were kids."

[excusemyobsessions]

Courtesy of tiktok again. Does it count as murder if you're just bad at your job?

[excusemyobsessions]

Myth Li’s!!!💜💙🩷❤️🧡🤍

Drew these for keychains!!! :D