Repressed Softie

Mel, she/her, 29, very queer. Blog Guide

[excusemyobsessions]

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:

Zayne:

Fluff/Comfort:

Did you have a bad dream? (Fluff, One Shot, Gender neutral reader)

Mr. Darcy!Zayne headcanons

I’m always here. (One shot, Scenario, Comfort/Fluff, Gender neutral reader)

What was it like to be in love? (Fluff with angst, Scenario)

My dearest Zayne (A letter to Mr. Darcy!Zayne)

Under a dome of ice (One shot, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Celebrating his birthday)

Smut:

Absolute Zeal (Smut, One Shot, Afab reader)

A Silent Poem (Smut, One Shot, Afab reader)

Will you read it to me? (Smut, One Shot, Afab reader)

Let me help you. (Smut, One shot, Afab reader, Requested)

Zayne is a lover. (P-links, Smut, Unholy thoughts)

Can you feel it? (Smut, One Shot, Afab reader)

Drabbles:

I like the way you look in my sweater. Keep it., (Fluff, Gender neutral reader)

You’re shivering. Here, let me hold you until you stop. (Fluff, Gender neutral reader)

Zayne's hands. (Fluff, Gender neutral reader)

Timestamps:

Fluff/comfort: 11:01pm

Sylus

Fluff/Comfort:

Come on, breathe with me. (Fluff/comfort, Scenario, Gender neutral reader)

You're safe. (One shot, Angst but comfort?, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

I missed you. (One shot, Fluff, Comfort, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

Does that mean you love me? (One shot, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

An Ode to You (One shot, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Celebrating his birthday)

(Affectionate) Love Bites (Drabble, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

Inspiration (One shot, scenario, gender neutral reader (this has violent descriptions but also fluff), Requested)

Smut:

Assistance (Smut, One shot, Scenario, Afab reader)

Drabbles:

Kiss me while the thunder drowns everything else out. (Fluff, Gender neutral reader)

Broken and tattered. (Angst, Comfort, Gender neutral reader)

Rafayel

Just say so. (Little scenario, Soft, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

The absolute masterpiece. (Fem!Rafayel, Drabble, Smut, Gender neutral reader)

Xavier

Rewrite the stars (Drabble, Scenario, AU(Prince!Xavier x Acrobat!reader), Gender neutral reader)

Home. (One Shot, Fluff, Comfort, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

All the boys

Fluff/Comfort:

LaDS boys and you as a kindergarten teacher (Headcanons, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

LaDS boys sleeping/cuddling positions (Scenario, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

LaDS boys reaction to you swallowing pills without water (Scenario, Fluff?, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

LaDS boys when you get home after one of those days (Scenario, Fluff, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

Who LaDS boys are for (Analysis?, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

Smut:

Touch starved (Smut, Little scenarios, Gender neutral reader)

LaDS boys when you struggle with their length (Smut, Gender neutral reader, Requested)

.

(I may create individual masterlists if I keep writing like a maniac)

.

(Old masterlists with texts that are still up: Old masterlist, Even older masterlist) (I do not write for these artists anymore, I just kept these up as keepsake)

[jiianie]

[deepspacebabyy]

<3

[ravenyibi]

[avananabread]

Thinking about Sylus who loves a particular kind of gentle skinship: pressing his nose on your skin.

Waiting in line for your sudden milk tea craving and he’s behind you nosing into your hair (he claims it makes the waiting better)

You’re preparing some food on the counter and he’s there behind you pressing his nose on your shoulders as he watches your hands move

You just wanna feed him some fries but he’s grabbing your wrist to press his nose there then playfully nip the side of your thumb instead of the fries

When he’s in a bad mood, just holding you and pressing his nose on your chest and he’s instantly cooled down

You wear an off-shoulder top and you bet he’s gonna be perching his nose there as if he’s Mephisto

Or nuzzling into the crook of your neck when he wants a cuddle

Or catching you right after a shower and he’s running his nose down your arm and giving little pecks

Maybe it’s the feel of your skin, maybe it’s your scent he wants to inhale all the time

Maybe it’s his dragon’s way of showing affection

You’re lying down on one side relaxing and he’d playfully rub his nose on your waist to tickle you and hear you laugh

And when your scent changes he knows you’re ovulating, it’s sweeter he says, with that hungry look in his eyes, because his very favorite place to bury his nose in is—

Wait am i ovulating? (ignores my empty period tracking app, opens Lads instead to consult his notes)

[excusemyobsessions]

Zayne is the kind of man who makes you want to let down your barricades.

He’s reliable and strong; sturdy enough to make you want to believe that this time you can share some of your weight.

And yet he’s fragile and delicate enough to make you see you are not the only one trying to let down your walls.

As you peek over your own barricades, you look over his, which are as high as yours, equally as solid.

And yet, as willing as you are to help him take them down, he’s as equally willing to climb over yours.

And just this once, you want to believe you can let him in.

[signoreratto]

Today is my birthday! 🎂 If you like my art, you can repost this post or any other and it'll make me happy 🥰

[fairbrooke]

Ummm… Yeah, these shots are my favorites 🫦

[pzxce]

sylus says stop wasting water w ai smh

[leighsartworks216]

Broken Glass

Zayne x gn!Reader

Inspired by real life events I would have *loved* to have a Zayne here for

Warning: blood, injury, feet, guilt, self-deprecation, insecurity, swearing, kissing, established relationship

Word Count: 1,252

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

A loud crash has Zayne on his feet in a heartbeat. He runs to the kitchen, standing in the doorway to assess what happened. Glass fragments - big, small, and smaller - litter the floor in a staggering display to your mistake. You’re at the center of the mess, crouched down to carefully pick up the larger shards. Barefoot.

“Be careful. Stay right there.” He disappears from the door to grab his shoes.

God, you feel awful. There’s something so entirely horrendous about breaking a glass object like this. It’s not easy to clean up, for one. You’d have to check under the cabinets and counters to make sure you got all the big pieces, and then sweep the smaller pieces up with a broom, and then vacuum thoroughly to make sure you got it all. And secondly, you never get all the pieces, no matter how thorough you are. Which means the hazard lingers for a while after. It’s a small mistake that has lasting consequences that all add up to make you feel like shit right now.

Sharp, shimmering edges of glass rest against your skin, threatening to dig in if you’re the slightest bit too careless. It glistens across the floor like a stunning array of gems on white tile, catching the glow of the overhead light and refracting it back to you. Zayne’s work shoes crunch over the fragments like thin ice as he carefully makes his way to you. His hands support you by your elbows as you stand. He transfers your small collection to his hands and goes to throw them away. Next to the trash can is a broom and dustpan.

You’re not really sure when it happened. Somehow, between the few seconds it took for Zayne to cross the kitchen and throw the chunks away, and him returning with the broom in hand, you cut yourself. You don’t feel the sting, but you do see the blood on the floor. Zayne quickly props the broom against the counter and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you all the way to the bathroom. He sets you on the countertop and sits on the lid of the toilet to check your feet, which, sure enough, are bleeding.

“Did you step in the glass?” His voice is sharp, straight to the point. He gently dabs a wad of tissue over the cut on your big toe that just seems to keep welling up with more blood, growing into a dark red bead that gets soaked up just before it gets the chance to succumb to gravity. You hiss when something sharp pokes into you at the site. “You have a piece of glass in your foot. Be still.”

“I must have, but I don’t know when…” you answer the mostly-redundant question. Your stomach sinks deeper and deeper with every second. If you didn’t feel like shit before, you definitely do now. You hiss again as he uses his thumb, wrapped in tissue, to pry out the small piece of glass. He wraps it in the spent tissue and grabs a fresh wad to hold tightly to the cut.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He keeps a hold on your one foot while lifting your other one by the ankle to see the bottom. There’s a trail of blood sliding down to your heel from the middle of your foot. He sighs softly, taking in the damage.

“I’m sorry,” you meekly apologize.

He lifts the tissue away to check the bleeding. It’s slowed considerably, allowing him to focus on the other injury you’ve sustained.

You love Zayne, with every ounce your afflicted heart can give, but when he’s this quiet, snapping into his doctor mode, you can’t help but feel like you’ve royally fucked up. “I can put on some shoes and help you pick up the pieces,” you offer.

He shakes his head slightly, gently feeling for any embedded glass in your skin. He, thankfully, doesn’t find any. “I can take care of it,” he dismisses.

And your stomach hits rock bottom with a quiet fwump, weighed down by the guilt of your stupid accident.

Needing to find something to do to distract yourself, you turn your upper body to open th medicine cabinet and retrieve the box of bandaids on the bottom shelf. They’re covered in fun designs and colors, but they don’t bring the same joy right now as they normally would when you use one to cover up a paper cut. You pick out a few of the bigger ones, unsure what shapes he’d need.

He takes a long, fat one and removes the paper tabs, wrapping it securely around your toe. He rests that foot on his thigh as he turns to the other one. He takes a square bandage this time, and sticks it to the bottom of your foot.

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

His hands rest on the back of your ankles, keeping your feet on his thighs as he looks up at you. “You’ve already apologized.”

“I know, I just… Are you mad at me?”

“For breaking a glass?”

“For getting hurt.”

His thumbs rub mindlessly over the lateral malleolus of your ankles. “No, I’m not angry,” he says softly. “I was worried. If the glass went deeper into your skin, you’d need to go to the hospital to have it removed. There wouldn’t be anything I could do for it here.”

You stare at the box of bandaids in your lap, putting away the ones he didn’t end up using. One of his hands slides up your calf to rest just under the crook of your knee. Soft lips press against your knee.

“Look at me, my love.”

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

He offers you a soft smile. Dr. Zayne has been replaced once more by boyfriend Zayne. “I forgive you for breaking the glass, and for getting hurt. I only ask that you be more careful next time you break something.” He squeezes the meat of your calf affectionately, massaging the strong muscles underneath as he presses another sweet kiss to your leg. His other hand massages your ankle, tracing shapes up and down your Achilles tendon.

You set the box aside. The tension in your chest eases up as you run a hand through his hair. Getting so upset over this is so stupid, you know that. There’s just something so demeaning about breaking not just a drinking glass, but something of his. He looks up at you with something that kills the apology bubbling up your throat. You brush his bangs out of his eyes and say instead, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“I know you will.”

He presses a final kiss to your other knee before slipping your feet from his lap. He stands and throws away the bloody tissues in the small trash can. You wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up, holding on as he carries you to the living room couch. “Stay here. I’ll clean up.”

You grab his sleeve, stopping him before he can get far. You pull him until he’s leaning over you, with one hand supporting himself against the back of the couch and a raised eyebrow that silently asks what you’re doing. You lean up to kiss him softly, trying to pour all your gratitude and love for him into the kiss. “Thank you,” you murmur when you pull away. “I love you.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I love you, too.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44

[excusemyobsessions]

Oh to have this kind of reassurance in my life 💘

[tokamiart]

Good little nap😴

I felt like practicing shading skin. Tho, the next multi will give me some more chances👀🫧

[excusemyobsessions]

Still freaking out over the stickies 😅😂

[medicli]

hnbgghnhghh zaynes back… oh zaynes back unghhh hnghgh zaynes back mmmphhhh fuck zaynes back

[mayweholdhands]

March Comics˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

[excusemyobsessions]

(Unholy thoughts and p-link) This is what mornings with Zayne look like.

Slowly waking him up with soft touches and kisses.

Him latching on to your nipples as soon as he's awake.

His hands all over you, brain still foggy with sleep.

Many, many kisses, gentle touches and pushing the sheets away haphazardly.

Strange positions because you need him deeper but he can't keep away from your lips for too long.

You cum at the same exact time, so drunk on each other.

And then you've exhausted the little bit of morning energy you had and you lay there, in each other's space, listening to each other breathe, basking in each other's scent.

He breathes out an "I love you".

You whisper it back to him. And you smile at each other, so stupidly in love.

[artsyririblobbu]

he has something for u

[excusemyobsessions]

"Come here."

(A little 360 words drabble about kissing Zayne's scars. All fluff and tenderness.)

"Come here."

Zayne turned his head, gazing at you.

You didn't command, you asked.

You watched his head tilt curiously as he stepped closer to you, answering your request.

When he stopped right in front of you, you took hold of his hands. First one, then the other, you led them to your lips and kissed their back.

"What's that for?" he questioned, watching you curiously.

You didn't answer at first. Instead, you pressed your lips to each knuckle and then turned his hands to kiss his palms, over his deep set life lines.

"You deserve to have your scars kissed," you told him.

You saw how his breath got caught up in his throat, how his chest halted for a few moments. 

You kissed his wrist and he let out the breath trapped in his lungs very slowly.

It was like he was breathing out all the tension in his body, his muscles visibly relaxing as he did, shoulders no longer squared like he carried the weight of the whole world upon them.

Gentle hazel eyes watched you as you pressed your lips over and over on his skin, kissing every scar, small or big, deep or superficial. All the way to his elbows, you left no scar untouched, no old pain unloved.

And he let you, breathing slowly through his nose, allowing himself for once to bask in this tenderness life offered him; in the affection you so graciously presented him with.

Slowly, he melted before your eyes, deflating over your tenderness. He kneeled on the floor between your thighs, sitting back on his calves, one gentle hand caressing your face as you kissed the other.

Lovesick he stared at you, eyelids heavy over his eyes, completely at your mercy.

You let go of his hand to cup his cheeks instead. You felt the weight of his head settle onto your palms when he leaned into your touch with no reserve.

“My darling,” you murmured.

He melted into a smile, one that made his eyes turn into little crescents, their green sparkling behind his long lashes.

You leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“My gentle darling,” you cooed.