i jus' fell in love with someone toxic

rin - 19

[aeraminth]

𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞? …𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡

rin - 19 - in uni - semi-active .. sylus, caleb, suguru, atsumu.. eek!!

requests not open but thirsts encouraged // NSFW + dark content !! dni minors + ageless blogs + spam likers will be blocked. don't like? don't read!

works so far!

repair complete

no restraint

husband!caleb

[aeraminth]

too many ppl say zayne ir boring and im hear to tell u YKNOW DAMN WELL HES HOLDING HIMSELF BACK ALWAYS ALL THE TIME HE YEARNS FOR MC SO BAD LIKE ALL THEIR KISSES?? BE FR W ME. “it’s not the kind of need you think it is” BOYYYYYYY don’t ever say zayne is boring. sigh hes so perfect

[aeraminth]

ok i hc caleb uses like. apple blossom body wash because EVERYTHING abt him is apples. like omg if i see one more apple im gonna lose it 😓😓😓

[aeraminth]

NSFW—caleb who just loves the way your moans get all whiny and breathy when his hand closes around your throat, slightly applying pressure to your windpipe as you clamp down on his cock even harder, your hands curling into fists at how mindlessly good it feels. he admires how big his hand looks around your neck, squeezing the sides of your skin even more as he shoves his cock inside of you as deep as he can. he loves how tight you are when he chokes you, your hands coming to grab at his wrist weakly, as if you want him to stop, when you know full well you’re both enjoying it. “c-caleb,” you try, your voice quiet. eyes glossed over as you fall deeper and deeper, letting caleb take care of you as he hits the gummy spot inside of you. “c-close,” and with how quiet your voice is, there’s no way he would’ve heard you over the sound of skin against skin and his small groans—but caleb’s so attentive, so attentive to how you’re basically begging him to choke you even more, your thighs shaking as your vision goes blurry and you come all over his cock. the sight of it alone; your eyes rolled back, hands desperately pulling and grasping at the fingers around the column of your neck, to how your walls flutter and clench around him, it makes him come with a groan of your name, painting your walls without a second thought. it’s obscene, how dazed you look as you catch your breath and beckon him to come closer, as caleb releases the hold on your neck and meets your lips in a saccharine kiss.

you murmur something quiet and reach for his palm. he watches with curiosity before you silently position his fingers how they were before, the contact of his palm on your skin once more, with a look in your gaze he can’t say no to. “again?”

[aeraminth]

who said pirate caleb x siren mc myth. come forward now.

[aeraminth]

nsfw— panty sniffer caleb who gets rock hard when you catch him with a pair of your lacy pink undies slightly peaking from the pocket of his sweatpants n you’re like “what’s that” and he’s like “wouldn’t you like to know” and even though you know full well the piece of pink fabric can only be the missing pair or underwear from the past week, you still clench your thighs and feign innocence…then cockwarming w caleb where he strokes your cheek and says “my laundry mustve gotten mixed up with yours, sorry :( i meant to return it i swear” but you tell him he can keep it and he’s not stopping at all once he’s inside of you

[mizzfizz]

10 THINGS FOR PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER

thank you mick!! @solardrop for the tag!!

Last song: E.T by katy perry, but the rock version

Favorite color: umm... right now i think it's either a soft pink or the brightest yellow in the world (or black)

Last book: the scorpio races <3

Last film: alice in wonderland, the live action! it is a very nostalgic and happy movie for me. i love the insanity of it

Last tv show: smallville!! it's so good omfg (yes, i did start it for clark...)

Sweet/savoury/spicy: sweet!! love when it hits my sweet tooth real good, but i also crave savory foods sometimes,, need a mix of both fr

Relationship: clark kent's girlfriend <3

Last googled: "how to describe a college party" 😭 the life of a writer...

Current obsession: CLARK KENT!! from smallville... if you didn't know already... i need him so bad in every way shape and form oml... he is so stupid and i love him and i need to kill him.

Looking forward to: graduating highschool... i am so mentally done with it DAMN

no pressure tags!! @bonesnplywood @rigorwhoring @vaaaaaiolet @tojicide @starpoweredv1b @losermuse @myjiro @teddybeartoji + anyone who would like to join!!

[tojicide]

10 things for people i’d like to know better!

thank you for the tag, lea!

last song: dirty diana by michael jackson

favorite color: light blue

last book: i have no time to read outside of uni </3 i think it was my reread of the hunger games last summer LOL

last film: sonic the hedgehog 3 (fire btw)

last TV show: baddies midwest

sweet/savory/spicy: spicy all the way! i put hot sauce on literally everythinggggg i eat

relationship: yes! a little under two years :)

last googled: well!

current obsession: nerdjo !!!!!! i want to eat him

looking forward to: the spring semester ending in three months, FREEEE MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

no pressure tags: @aeraminth @catbolt @aomiiine @naammiii

[aeraminth]

HAI VIC TYSM FOR THE TAG!

last song: heartbreaker - justin beiber

favorite color: any shade of blue!

last book: the road (for school ☹️)

last tv show: xo kitty

last film: to all the boys ive loved before (are we sensing a pattern)

sweet/savory/spicy: unfortunately a mix of all three 😓 savory snacks but spicy meals and a sweet treat thats not too overwhelming!

relationship: soo single 😓

last googled:

was making cinnamon rolls LOL

looking forward to: spring break trip with some friends and finishing freshmen year at uni !!

tagging @umamaki @forcaleb + no pressure n feel free to do this if you want!

[aeraminth]

no one understands i need nightplumes and painful signal like no tmr 😓😓😓😓

[tojicide]

ABOUT YOU. ♥︎ SYLUS QIN.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. it was easy to get lost in the whirlwind of your new roles as first-time parents, and somewhere along the way, you nearly forgot about the other titles you held—husband and wife. tonight, that changes. for good.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem! reader, husband + dad! sylus, fluff galore, themes of insecurity, pet names, praise, fondling, oral ( fem. receiving ), soft sex, missionary, unprotected, creampie, aftercare. references to his nightplumes card. loverboy sylus is very prominent in this one. 𝑤𝑐. 5k.

𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. about you — the 1975.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Anticipation and anxiety were two sides of the same coin—at least you think so. 

Your heart pounded against your chest, the sound was a far cry from the peaceful silence that surrounded the extravagant lodge. Only the wind passing through managed to break that found quiet. 

Snowflakes slowly fell from the sky as you stepped out onto the wooden back deck, the brisk breeze threading through your hair in a way that forces a sharp chill down your spine. Goosebumps pricked at your skin, though you quickly cross your arms over your chest to remedy them. 

You were beginning to notice that it was almost too quiet. After all, by this time of night, you were accustomed to only hearing the sounds of your infant’s quiet fussing in between the soft static of the baby monitor. 

This was different. Different because it was the first time you were away from your daughter from the moment she was born, but also because it was the first time you were truly given alone time for yourself. It was a rarity these days, and you weren’t quite sure how to indulge in it. 

However, the quiet, careful sounds of your husband’s footsteps approaching you from behind quickly gave you an idea as to how you could. 

Sylus’s scent served as soothing balm, the rich essense of his cologne accompanied by a smell that was uniquely him wafted through the air around you. 

“Aren’t you cold, sweetie?” he quietly asks you, his hands coming up to run along the bared skin of your arms. 

You briefly glance over your shoulder, covering one of his hands with one of your own. “Hm? No, no… I like the cold.”

The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal you from the elements, though it was a sacrifice worth making in your opinion. It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity nor the time to dress up for any occasion apart from the mock tea parties that your babbling daughter puts on for both your husband and yourself.

“I mean…” your words trail, and you find yourself leaning back into his broad chest. “I know that I’m not exactly dressed for this climate. I just wanted to try and look nice tonight. For you, for this… for… for us.”

His hands smooth over the curve of your elbows as his eyes trace the noticeable bumps that the weather had brought to you. Pressing a longing kiss on the back of your head, he opts to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you even tighter against his chest. “You don’t have to try, sweetie. You look absolutely beautiful no matter what you wear.”

You slowly nod your head, your gaze moving over the vibrant hues of light that emerged from the darkness of the sky. The Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. It was beautiful, casting faint shadows over your conjoined form as the two of you admired the way the hues blend together.

“I know, I just… I don’t know,” you stammer, knowing that your words must sound like a jumble of incomprehensible words. “It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up for anything, since… since you’ve seen me like this.” 

Your temple is warmed up by the press of his lips, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning into it, earning you another peck. “I just… didn’t want you to forget, I guess.”

“Sweetheart.” All you could feel was his hold tighten on you ever so slightly, lowering his head just enough to brush his cheek against the soft skin of your own. “Do you think I’ve forgotten about you?”

For a moment, you were stumped. You weren’t sure how to respond to that question, even though you had inspired it to be asked in the first place. Everything has changed, and motherhood has had impacts on your life that you weren’t initially anticipating. It was tough and unsure at times, yet so rewarding and beautiful. 

Guilt set into your heart. You hadn’t meant to bring down the mood of your getaway before it had truly started, but you knew that the feelings you had needed to be lifted from your chest. Now was as good of a time as any.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, tilting your head to rest it against his. “I just… I’m afraid that we’ve forgotten about each other. That we’ll never be able to be like we were before. I feel like a mess all the time, I am a mess all the time.”

Carefully, Sylus takes a hold of your chin to give himself access to your eyes. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps it was only mere seconds, but you hardly felt the passage of time with those softened red eyes staring into yours and his hand running along your arm. 

“I don’t think that at all,” he states, his voice still soft yet resolute. “Change isn’t a bad thing, sweetie. Not change of this nature. We’re still learning. It’s only natural that we lose our footing for a small while.”

“You don’t think so?” Your question only has a split second to hang in the air before your words cut it off, and the shake of your head solidifies it. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… overthinking.”

“Then I will over explain.” His thumb brushes along the curve of your chin, his softened red eyes taking in the appearance of you with snowflakes in your hair and on your cheeks. “My heart is so full of you that I can no longer call it mine. For that reason alone, you will never be forgotten by me.”

“But…”

Sylus shakes his head, kissing away your worry with a quick peck of his lips. “There are no ‘buts’ here, baby. There is nothing in this world that could ever drive me away from you, from the family that we have created together. Not busyness, not sleep deprivation, not anything.”

Relief must have been the first emotion to cross your features, because it almost immediately brought a hint of a smile to Sylus’s lips. Overthinking was a habit of yours, one that you couldn’t evade no matter how hard you tried. But he was perfect. When was he not?

“Not even me smelling like baby spit up half of the time?” you tentatively ask, a familiar humor lacing your words. 

He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble omitting from his chest. “Has the scent driven you away from me?” 

Your answer is almost immediate. “No.”

Sylus runs his hand over the back of your head, cradling it in his gentle grasp. “Well, there’s your answer.” He pecks your forehead. “Motherhood has looked good on you from the moment our little sweetie started to grow.”

“Little sweetie?” you ask. “That’s new.”

“It’s… something Luke and Kieran came up with. You’re my sweetie, so by default, she is… little sweetie.” A moment later, he clears his throat. “Don’t go telling the twins that I’ve developed a liking for the name. They may begin to venture out into unthinkable territory.”

You raise an eyebrow and faintly muse, “Maybe we can all call you big sweetie.”

He clicks his tongue with a squeeze to your hips. “You’re lucky there aren’t people around for miles, baby. Having that material in the wrong hands could be detrimental.”

Once again, a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. He unwraps his arms to reach for the zipper of his coat, slipping it off his broad frame to drown you in the thick, warm fabric instead. He smiles to himself, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he dips his head just enough for his chin to rest on the crook of your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, your saccharine voice filtering into the soothing ambiance of the winter night. 

He merely shakes his head, turning just enough to press a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “No need to thank me.”

You knew that he’d never accept your thanks, but you felt the need to say it regardless. His reassurance, his way with his words, his selfless gestures that were unending and unconditional—he deserved to hear that. You knew it. 

Tilting your head up, you can’t help but huff out a laugh that turns to condensation in the cool air. “You have snow in your hair, you know.”

Sylus smiles, raising an eyebrow as he lowers his head once more. “Help me.”

And you do just that, raising your hand to shake away some of the pesty fallen snow that had nestled in his silver locks of hair. You were sure that you would have had some too if he wasn’t constantly touching your head.

With that, he places his hands on either side of you on the wooden banister that outlined the luxurious deck. He rests his chin on top of your head, his eyes reflecting the green and purple hues of light that nature put on for the two of you. 

After a long stretch of peace and quiet, you hear the faint sound of scratching in the snow. When you look down, you find Sylus dragging his finger through the fallen snow on the banister to draw two small pictures. 

“What are you drawing?” you ask.

He smiles, kissing your cheek as he reveals the two semi-finished works of art to your gaze. With his pointer finger, he draws two carets on one of the circles. “A mother kitten,” he murmurs, drawing two smaller carets on the tinier circle. “And her baby kitten.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re silly.”

“Silly?” he soon echoes. Evidently, your habit of censoring your language around your daughter has even bled into your conversations with adults. It was a tooth rotting-ly adorable habit you had that Sylus adored. “That’s an interesting way to describe a man in love.”

Your skin tingles in the wake of his fingertips brushing your hair away from your neck, his other hand coming up to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “Oh? What would a better word have been?”

“Hmm…” He kisses your cheek. “Enamored.” He kisses your jaw. “Smitten.” He kisses your neck. “Besotted.” He kisses the curve of your shoulder. “Lovestruck.” 

A hearty laugh consumes you as you inch away from his ticklish kisses, your hand coming up to rest on the back of his head. “Okay, okay!”

He chuckles too, cupping your chin to turn your head to face him once more. “Though I must say, my original verbiage was the most accurate.” His breath was warm and comforting as it found your forehead, and the longing press of his lips followed it. “I am in love. With you, with the life that we created together, with the life that you have given me. Just… in love.”

Your smile is far too wide to hide now, a sight that threatens to bring your husband to his knees, right here on the snowy porch. “I love you too.” And somehow, your words still paled in comparison to the sweetness of your grin, the curve of your lips and the crinkle of your eyes. “Hey… aren’t you cold now?”

Entirely distracted, Sylus buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent that always managed to make his legs feel weak without fail. “Mm-mm. Not really,” he murmurs, one of his large hands curving around your waist. “Not when I have my beautiful wife to keep me warm.”

There was that damn smile of yours again. So gorgeous, so natural, so… you. If lovesickness could be medically diagnosed, he would be the first known patient without a doubt. It wasn’t until you spoke again that Sylus blinks three times in a row, forcing his eyes to meet yours once again.

“Not really isn’t a total no, though,” you simply say.

His thumb brushes away the few water droplets that the melting snow had left on your cheeks that are warm with a blush he’s sure the cold weather hadn’t produced alone. “In that case, what would be your preferred method of warming us up?”

“Well…” you say with a dreamy sigh, turning around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think I saw a fireplace in the master bedroom when we sat down our suitcases.”

(Correction: Sylus carried and sat the bags down, and you watched with lovestruck eyes as you marveled over how this man could be even more perfect. It honestly worked best that way.)

“I like the way you think, sweetie.” 

In one swift motion, he scoops you up off the deck and carries you to the sliding glass door with one of his arms while his free hand reaches for the door handle. Pulling it open, he walks inside, but he has no clear intent of setting you down.

“Hey,” you say, poking his cheek. “I have two working feet, you know.”

He smiles, kissing your finger while his free hand expertly works at the straps of your heels. One by one, they fall onto the hardwood floor as the two of you make your way to the bedroom.

“I know,” is all he replies with.

“So… why haven’t you set me down?” you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Just because my beautiful woman has two feet doesn’t mean she should be expected to use them,” he murmurs, crouching down to turn on the electric fireplace in the room. “Maybe I enjoy being your in-home transportation service.”

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

He can only nod, peppering a few kisses along your cheek that was now illuminated by the warm lights flickering inside of the fireplace. “It is.”

Sylus takes a seat on the edge of the bed, setting you sideways in his lap as he holds you close to his chest. Your head finds its familiar home on his shoulder, and he tilts his own to lean against yours. 

One of his hands settles on your back while the other runs long strides along your legs, the chilly feeling of his wedding ring gliding along your skin makes your muscles involuntarily tense. 

A nearly silent laugh spilled from his lips, his hand slipping beneath your closed thighs so that the metallic band would warm up. His eyes flit to you, the way your skin glows in the hue that the fire is casting onto the two of you. 

You were a sight for sore eyes. You were so perfect that he was inclined to believe that you could have been a figment of his imagination, a physical embodiment of his deepest desires. But you were here, in his arms. His wife. The mother of his child. 

Every lifetime with you had led him to this moment, and he would do it all over again if it meant that you were his. Because here, in the world that you two created, you were real. You were here. All that he has ever wanted, all that he could ever want—it’s you. 

Tears glossed over his eyes and he hadn’t even noticed. His hand gave your thigh a small squeeze, his head turning just enough to kiss your forehead. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “So are you.” After a beat of silence, you turn in his lap to face him. “I’m warmed up now. Are you?”

He nods with a single jerk of his chin. “I am.”

Shifting around, you move to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his hands settle on your hips. “I think it’s getting too warm in here.”

Sylus chuckles, giving your sides a gentle brush of his thumbs. “Are you suggesting I take you back outside and leave you to the elements? You’ll catch a cold, sweetie. We don’t want that, do we?”

You shake your head with a huff. “No, we don’t. But… there are other ways of cooling off you know.” 

To emphasize your point, your fingers find their way to the buttons of his shirt, slowly and tentatively popping them open one by one. His eyebrows raise, watching your expression as inch after inch of his toned torso is bared to your eyes. 

Curving a hand around your waist, he pinches the ribbon tying your dress together in between his thumb and forefinger. He inches closer—close enough for you to feel his breath on your lips—until he speaks. “Can I?”

Without hesitation, you nod and give him your permission. In turn, he slowly tugs on the fabric, watching the way your dress loosens and how it slowly begins to fall down your shoulders. 

Your eyes meet, and a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth as you notice the rosy hue that crept up onto Sylus’s ears and cheeks. It was something you never got tired of seeing, that blush of his. 

It was almost comical how his eyes lit up the moment your chest was revealed to his hungry gaze, and his fingertips gently brush over the fabric of your bra that covers your nipple. 

“Is this new?” he asks you, giving both of your breasts a firm knead.

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as the straps slowly fall down your arms. “Yeah. You like?”

“I love,” he replies, lowering his head to kiss along the valley of your breasts. A low groan leaves his mouth as his tongue laves over your skin, tasting you for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve missed these, pretty girl.”

His hands work at the clasp of your bra, undoing it in one swift moment before slowly tugging the garment down and off your arms. A sudden gasp leaves you as his lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the pointed peak. 

Your hand snakes up the nape of his neck and into his hair, earning a deep groan from his mouth that vibrated against your skin. You could feel his cock quickly hardening beneath your bottom, the fabric of his slacks doing very little to conceal his more than obvious arousal. 

“Sy,” you whine, your hips instinctively working to grind your clothed sex over his bulge. You needed more, needed to feel him in a way you haven’t in so long. 

His hands latch onto your hips, halting your movements as he presses a faint kiss on your nipple after he releases it. “Don’t squirm,” he states, his voice low and full of command. “I need to take my time with you.”

And you believe him. This far surpassed want for him, this was a need. His need. His tone leaves very little room for argument or doubt, no matter how much you wish it did. Another sound of impatience and need leaves you as he sucks your neglected peak into his mouth, his iron grip still holding you still in his lap. 

In one swift, dizzying motion, he lowers you onto the bed. Your back hits the plush comforter, and he shifts to settle between your legs. He kneels on the mattress, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt that you had begun to remove earlier. 

His hands then pull your dress down your legs, letting the fabric slip onto the floor near the bed. His lips press to your ankle as he looks down at you, his hands mapping out the skin of your thighs and calves as he hoists your legs up until the heels of your feet rest on his shoulders. 

Blinking twice, you feel a heavy sense of anticipation swirling in your lower stomach. You reach out, hooking a finger inside of his belt loop to try and tug him closer. He doesn’t budge. 

“Sylus,” you whine.

He can only grin, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your inner legs—your calves, your knees, your thighs—until he flattens onto his stomach. “I’ve never known you to be so impatient, baby.” 

You huff, tilting your head to the side. “And I’ve never known you to hold out on me.”

Clicking his tongue, he nuzzles his cheek against the warm skin of your inner thigh. “Holding out? No, that can’t be right.” His voice has a teasing lilt, one that would make you want to say something snarky in reply, but his mouth quickly distracts you from the idea. 

His lips leave soft kisses along the damp fabric of your panties, pointing his tongue to leave light kitten licks around your clit. You squirm, but his grip on your hips returns to keep you in place. 

“I’ve left my poor wife so pent up,” he whispers, ending his sentence with an open-mouthed kiss on your cunt. His fingers hook beneath the waistband, tugging them down your legs just enough for them to dangle around your ankles. “It’s only right I pay you a personal visit.”

And you almost scream when his mouth meets your pussy directly, dragging the muscle up and down to gather your slick on his tongue. He groans unabashedly, grasping onto your thighs to yank you even closer to his hungry mouth. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Your hands fly to his hair, hips bucking off the mattress as much as his grip on your thighs would allow them to. Grasping onto his soft silver locks, you nearly lose yourself when he fucks his tongue inside of you. 

“Sylus!” you pant, thighs pressing in on his head as he groans. “I—I can’t—I’m going to...”

Your warning is cut off by yet another whine, one that his groaning brought on. The hot sensations of his mouth and the trembling vibration of his voice stimulates your sensitive pearl, his words limited to coos of “I know, I know” that force you to come with a particularly hard grasp on his hair. 

All the while, he slows his movements, opting to give you faint licks as you come down from the intensity of your orgasm. A sigh of relief leaves your lips, and your smile returns with it. 

Kissing your mound one final time, he crawls up to meet you once more, his forearm bracing his weight as he towers over you. He chuckles as you bring your hand up to wipe away the wetness on his chin, prompting him to capture your wrist and kiss your palm. 

And when your hands then run down his toned torso to reach the belt of his slacks, a strained laugh leaves him. “Ah. Do you still feel that I’m holding out on you, sweetie?” 

“No,” you answer, undoing his belt and popping open the button of his trousers. “I just want to feel you.”

Sylus smiles, his biceps tightening up as he lowers himself just enough to leave a longing kiss on your lips. “I can do that for you, baby.”

As he begins to undress, all you can feel is a ball of nerves settling inside of you. You haven’t been intimate in this way in what felt like years, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. After all, much has changed since the last time and…

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, as if he had noticed the worry set into your beautiful face. “Sweetheart,” he softly whispers to snap you out of your thoughts. “I need you and your beautiful mind to stay with me. Can you do that?”

Sucking in a short breath, you nod your head. “I can do that.”

Kicking away the last of his clothing, he settles in between your parted thighs once more. “Spread your legs a little more for me, there you go.” 

His hands map out the dips and curves of your body, settling back onto his forearm beside your head while the other runs along his aching length. He runs his tip along your folds, gathering your slick for lubricant. And then, he slides his arm beneath your back, holding you firmly against his chest. 

“Hold onto me,” he murmurs, his breath hitching as the head of his cock catches your entrance. You listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His cock slowly nudges inside of you, stretching you open with a sense of familiarity. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts in your wake. He keeps his movements slow and steady, easy rolls of his hips to fuck you long and deep, letting you feel every inch of him. 

“Feeling alright, sweetie?” he asks you, peppering soft, reverent kisses along your jaw and cheek as he begins to find a steady pace. 

You quickly nod, one of your hands delving into his hair. “Yes,” you breathe, clenching around him like a vice. “Feels so good, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I’ve missed you so much, pretty,” he whispers, kissing your skin from your cheek to your jaw to your neck, his plush lips brushing against you in time with each snap of his hips. “You feel so perfect. I love you. I love you so much.”

His mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss, one that was messy and disorganized but undoubtedly perfect. A whirlwind of whimpers and gasps leave the both of you, but the feeling of your thundering heartbeats pounding against your chests is what grounded you both. His hand next to your head strokes over your hair while the other grasps onto your hip. 

“I love you too,” you say against his lips, your nails on his back, holding him impossibly closer to you. 

One of Sylus’s hands shoots up, grasping firmly onto the headboard in an attempt to hold himself back. He needed this to be perfect—for you, his perfect wife who only deserved his best. 

You can feel the way his back muscles contort in the new position, prompting you to grasp onto him even more. “I’m close,” you manage.

His fingertips dig into the wooden frame enough for the sound of splintering to rip through the air, but Sylus pays it no mind. His attention is on you, the softness of your eyes and the parting of your lips. 

And when you clench around him and your sweet sounds fill the air, he knows that holding back is no use. It’s impossible. His pace staggers as he chases his own orgasm. Tensing up inside of you, you feel the way his seed floods inside of your inner channels, filling you up with the proof of his undying love for you.

For a long moment, all you can do is hold each other close. You breathe heavily into each other’s warm skin, exchanging stolen kisses and the smallest of smiles. 

Sylus finally releases the headboard with a huff, prompting you to tilt your head up and look at the damage. A gasp leaves you, your brows furrowing together. “Sylus!”

His eyebrow quirks up as he follows your gaze, finding that he had, in fact, splintered the wood under his vice-like grip. He sucks on his teeth, turning to face you again. “It’s alright. It’s just a… happy accident.” 

“A happy accident?” you echo, watching as he makes his way over to the en suite. “This bed frame probably cost a fortune.”

When he returns, he has a damp cloth in his hand and both of your bath robes. He settles between your legs once more, carefully wiping up the mess that he had made of you. “Mm-hmm. That it did.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

He shrugs, wiping himself clean before disposing of the cloth in the laundry hamper. He then wraps you up in the silken robe, following suit for himself. “Because I bought it just for us, sweetie.”

A gasp of surprise leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he scoops you up into his arms and walks you both towards the kitchen. “You did? But…we’ve never even thought of staying here until now.” 

“When we first started dating, I ensured that the furniture at each of my properties was well equipped to handle two guests,” he states as if it were obvious. “Though now, I should begin the furnishing process again to make plenty of room for three.” 

Your smile widens. “You’re such a softie.”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The following morning, sunlight cut through the maroon curtains that drape over the gaping windows of the bedroom. You rolled over onto your side, only to be met with Sylus’s back. 

Your eyes finally crack open, your fingertips slowly tracing over the scratches that you had left behind last night. Then, you snake a hand around his waist. He places his hand on top of yours to give it a lazy squeeze. 

“Good morning, sweetie,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

“Good morni—”

Your voice was cut off by the sound of Sylus’s cell phone ringing on the bedside table. With a groan, he reaches out, tapping on the pesky green button to answer a call from Luke and Kieran. 

He winces at the sound of their loud and excited voices, rolling onto his back to throw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

“Boss!” their voices cut through the speaker at the same time. “We came up with something that has little sweetie cracking up! Wanna hear it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Watch this, watch this,” Luke says into the receiver as if Sylus could see their escapades through the voice call. “Your mommy is the original sweetie, you are the little sweetie, and you daddy is the…” His voice cuts off for dramatic effect, before it blares through the speaker once again. “Big sweetie!”

You find yourself laughing at the sound of your daughter cracking up over the line, evidently having a great time with Uncle Luke and Uncle Kieran and their jokes that only an infant could find humorous. Sylus glances down at you with a glare, as if he were silently asking you a question.

You shake your head. “What? I didn’t tell them anything.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. not that anyone asked but i’ve been working on my first series on this app and i’m motivated to write for the first time in forever :,) it’s for love and deepspace (of course) and it revolves around caleb. i’m lowkey nervous to post thoooo i might try and get a few beta readers to see if it’s any good. anywho thank you for reading, rb/comment if you enjoyed <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[aeraminth]

VIC 😓😓😓😓

[aeraminth]

nsfw— zayne who can’t help but praise you the first time you two are intimate. his hands trace the curve of your breasts and his broken sigh gives him away, his gaze never leaving as he cups your tits and you squirm in his lap. “such a pretty girl,” he coos, and his fingers trail down to where you need him most. “so perfect for me,” and he’s sliding two fingers in, committing your scrunched up expression and breathy whine to memory. and when he curls his fingers and rubs your clit, he tells you “look at you, taking my fingers so well—hm? does it feel good, love? should i keep going?” you enthusiastically respond, begging for the feeling of his cock deep inside, and he unravels at the seams. “so needy, hm?” he would tease, even though he rushes to line himself up with your glistening folds, a ragged breath escaping him as he runs the head of his length in your arousal. “so, so wet, and just for me…” he’s so lost in the way you feel that it takes you grabbing his wrist and pleading with him for zayne to realize how long he’s kept you waiting. your eyes, with tears pricking at the corner from desperation staring back at him as you try to move your hips, whines and whimpers falling from your lips with reckless abandon. “don’t worry, baby, i got you,” he murmurs, sliding into your tight heat, his eyes knitting shut from the pure pleasure of your warm walls clamping down, sucking him in and never letting go—he could die happy, enveloped by your heat and blessed by the sounds of a long, drawn out moan from your lips. and you’re not faring much better, with every bit of imagery being put to shame with how good the stretch is, how his cock pulses with need in your pussy and how hard he grips your waist to stop himself from losing control. “m-move-hhngh-zayne..” you mumble, delirious from the feeling, and he snaps, pulling out only to fill you up to the brim. he chases his high, driven by lust as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “d-dirty girl—fuck! taking me so well, hmm? ahh- shit— you feel so good around me—mm—squeezing me..” and all you can do is clench around his cock, his words making your mind go blank. zayne plunges deeper and deeper, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars, babbling how you need him to come inside of you. “please, please zayne, i’m so close—!” and he reaches down, rubbing quick circles into your bundle of nerves in a chase to see you come undone. your hips jerk with the added stimulation to your clit, squirming even more as he pins you down and fucks you even faster, only stilling when he feels you squeeze around him impossibly tighter. your release washes over you, leaving your skin warm and your mind hazy. zayne’s no better, emptying himself and coating your walls white when you tell him to come inside, and his shallow thrusts make you shove at his chest, feeling overstimulated. he can’t help it though, the sound and sight of where you connect puts him in a frenzy, where he can’t find himself to stop even when it becomes to much. “z-zayne—‘ts too much!” but he needs to see you cream his cock one more time, and he’s not stopping until you’re both spent.

“the first time i’ve ever seen you like this,” he comments, his voice barely over a whisper. his finger swipes up and down your damp folds, playing with the cum that oozes on to his finger, “but not the last. never.”

[aeraminth]

im gonna tell everyone a fat secret i actually don’t play lads and i actually just watch all the content in order on YouTube and yell at tobias even tho i’ve never touched abyssal chaos in my life!!!!!!!

you can all cancel me now. you can stone me and tell me i am the devils spawn himself.

ok i jist wanted to admit that early on bc ill probably start playing it soon LOL

[aeraminth]

little did i know 😕

[aeraminth]

yeah so lads took me out for 3 weeks but i have 4/5 tc22 cards 😋 don’t play

[khioneee]

zayne hates the way you look in a hospital bed.

the sheets are too white, the room too sterile, and the iv in your arm makes his stomach twist in ways he won’t admit. you look smaller like this.

too still, too quiet. it doesn’t suit you.

‘you should get some rest,’ he says, his voice even, professional. detached, like a doctor should be. but you know better. you always have.

‘you’re here again,’ you murmur, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he adjusts the blanket over your shoulders, making sure it covers you properly. it’s a useless gesture because the room is warm, and you’re not shivering.

but he does it anyway.

a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. ‘you should be more careful, doctor,’ you tease, voice quiet but laced with something familiar, something warm. ‘the others might think i’m your favorite patient.’

he should roll his eyes. scoff. say something sarcastic like he always does. but this time, he doesn’t. instead, he just shakes his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looks away.

for a second, you swear he almost says something. but then he pulls back, his hand leaving your blanket, his presence retreating ever so slightly.

you let it go.

it’s late when he comes back. the overhead lights are dimmed, the quiet hum of machines the only thing filling the room. you’re half-asleep when you hear the soft click of the door, but even in the haze of exhaustion, you know it’s him. you always do.

‘you should go home, zayne,’ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. ‘get some rest.’

‘i was.’ his voice is quiet, careful. ‘didn’t feel right.’

‘you care for me too much.’

‘nonsense,’ he said instead. ‘there’s only way too much or none at all.’

you force your eyes open, blinking up at him. he’s standing at the foot of your bed, hands in his pockets, his coat slightly wrinkled like he’s been running on autopilot all day.

‘zayne—’

‘you said something earlier,’ he interrupts, and there’s something in his tone—hesitation, maybe. or something heavier. ‘about being my favorite patient.’

you let out a tired huff of laughter. ‘what, did it offend you? i can take it back.’

he exhales sharply through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not quite nothing. then, after a beat, he moves closer, just enough for his voice to drop into something barely above a whisper.

‘you’re my most important patient.’

the words settle between you, sinking into the space where exhaustion lingers, where unspoken things have always gone unsaid.

you study him, taking in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you.

‘yeah?’ you murmur, softer this time.

his gaze flickers to yours, steady and certain. ‘yeah.’

you don’t say anything after that. but you don’t need to.

instead, your eyes drift to the chair beside your bed. ‘you’re staying, aren’t you?’

he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. with a quiet sigh, he lowers himself into the chair, shifting slightly to get comfortable. not that he ever will. the chair is stiff, unforgiving, and he’s been running on too little sleep for too many days.

but he doesn’t complain. he never does.

you watch him for a moment longer, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes linger on you even as he leans back.

‘go to sleep,’ he murmurs, closing his eyes. ‘doctor’s orders.’

you want to argue, to tell him he should be the one sleeping somewhere comfortable, but the weight of exhaustion is already pulling you under. the last thing you see before you drift off is zayne, slouched in that uncomfortable chair, his breathing steady, his presence unwavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel alone.

because you never knew it. never realized it.

but zayne became a doctor for you.

when you were little and scraped your knee, he was the one who pressed plasters to your skin, his hands careful, his touch gentle. when you sniffled from the sting, he’d ruffle your hair and say, ‘there. all better.’

when you climbed trees too high and got stuck, it was zayne who came running, scolding you under his breath as he helped you back down. and when you fell, because you always fell, he was the one who knelt beside you, wiping the dirt from your palms before you even had the chance to cry.

when you got sick, he was the one who snuck into your house with soup he swore wasn’t that bad, sitting by your bed even when you told him to go home. he would press the back of his hand against your forehead like he had seen adults do, frowning like he could will the fever away just by staying close.

when you started training to be a hunter, he was the one who patched you up after every battle, every wound, every brush with death.

he never once told you to quit, but every time he stitched a cut or wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands would linger, as if memorizing every scar.

and now, when the world threatens to break you, he’s still here.

still taking care of you. still choosing to stay.

you wake up hours later, the room still cloaked in soft, early-morning silence. the first thing you notice is the warmth around your wrist.

zayne.

he’s asleep in the chair, his head tilted slightly, dark circles visible beneath his eyes. his hand is wrapped around your wrist, fingers loose but still holding on, like he fell asleep taking your pulse.

like he needed proof that you were still here.

still breathing.

you shift slightly, just enough to tighten your fingers around his. he stirs for only a second but doesn’t let go.

and neither do you.

[aeraminth]

me n @aomiiine can make a caleb n zayne love club fr

[aeraminth]

not only does zayne have like a 6 figure income fs but he’s like so fine and only ever shows his soft side to mc im so done

[aeraminth]

man this sylus boycott so real fuck the devs for being so greedy w his content. ALL I WANT TO DO IS FARM SYLUS. ALL I WANT IS A DECK OF 5 STARS!!! AND THE DEVS DONT WANT ME TO HAVE IT. THE DEVS DONT WANT ME HAPPY.

[aomiiine-deactivated20260202]

PRAEDATOR CALEB who was assigned for you to monitor and investigate down in at his prison, chains on restraining his wrists together behind his back. His demeanour was menacing, cruel, infuriatingly teasing—overall unfriendly. Yet despite it all, he keeps fishing for your attention.

you were enforcer, someone tasked to take care of praedators like him. Your prisoners were supposed to be yours to control, but somehow with Caleb, it was like you were his plaything instead.

Ridiculous, you thought. He should be under your rule. And that was exactly what he wanted too.

So here you were, in the darkness of his confines, defined jaw in your firm grasp as he bared his teeth at you, attempting to fight against his muzzle. His dog tag was nestled into his mouth, your thumb against his lip making sure it stayed there. Caleb was frustrated, no doubt. Sexually so.

“Think putting your pretty heels on my thigh’s gonna do something, dear enforcer? You’ll have to get bolder,” the chained man taunted, suppressing a groan that threatened to erupt from his throat at the feeling of your sharp heel pressing down hard on his inner thigh, the flat surface of the sole grazing close to the raging erection he had throbbing in the confines of his pants. But it seemed like he refused to acknowledge it, keeping fierce eye-contact with you shamelessly even at his unsaid intentions to use your anger to get him off.

MDNI (18+) -> you get him off with your heels, perv/shameless caleb, light dirty talking, restraints (he’s chained up), eye-fucking your tits, he’s so fucking down bad lol, dom-ish reader but caleb intends to regain control

“You’re a sick perv,” you spat with a glower.

“Quit talking as if you aren’t one too,” caleb scoffed with a sneer, spitting the dog tag out with canines gleaming under the fleeting white lights of the officers light-tower.

Your face heats up a fraction at his swift response, brows knitting in disbelief at his brazen words, foot pressing harder in retaliation.

“Fuck, cat really got your tongue, huh?” The praedator hissed at the pressure, hips rolling in search for more of that delicious friction he desperately needed. He didn’t care if you were an enforcer tasked to tame him—his heart and mind demanded your attention and touch, regardless of how he gets it.

“If that’s the case, then you should really give me the opportunity to bite it next,” he said soon after he adjusted to the new sensation, feral eyes now flickering frantically between your eyes and the heel on his cock—soon to be, on his cock.

“Unbelievable,” you exhaled sharply, finally deciding to put him out of his pitiful misery for friction and using the flat surface of your shoe to press of his hard on, making little to no effort to rub his aching flesh up and down, earning a deep moan from him.

It was almost like he was on the brink of ecstasy already, lips parted for quick breaths through gritted teeth. Caleb’s chains rattled wildly, forearms and biceps flexing from how much he wanted to move much more, to grind up against the firm surface of your heel. The sight mesmerised you, leaving you entranced and sinfully wanting to see more of your unpredictable praedator.

so you exerted more force, showing mercy by setting up a steady pace that would surely get him. And true to thought, it did. In seconds, he was panting like a dog, chest heaving up and down and hips jerking forward desperately.

“Goddamn, officer, you really know how to please a rabid stray,” he grunted, head thrown back then forth when he felt his cock twitch in his pants, growing painfully aroused that he could feel the pre-cum drench his boxers. “Gotta do this more often, officer,” he huffed, drawing in you in with a glance up to you, a dreamy smile that felt more seductively mischievous and less scheming.

“Hmph. Dream on, Caleb,” you tsked, crossing your arms over your chest, amplifying the curves of your tits that he began to eye-fuck the rest of the time. What was worse is that you knew that he was doing it—you just didn’t say or do anything to stop him. You liked it, seeing him having to swallow the saliva that collected in his mouth in his attempt to not drool at the sight of your standing tall over him. It made you feel in control, wanted—even though the control was truly in his busy hands rather than yours. He’ll take you down from that high as soon as he gets the lock of those chains binding his wrists open. Then, you’ll be the one seeing him from above.