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always-just-red · 4 months ago

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A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about

Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅

Putting On A Brave Face

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)

| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.

You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.

You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.

Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.

You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.

Still nothing.

Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.

There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.

You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.

You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.

Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.

Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.

“Xavier!” you call back.

You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.

“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”

Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”

He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”

“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.

“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”

“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.

Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.

“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”

He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.

“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”

You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.

He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.

“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”

“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.

He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.

“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”

You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”

“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.

You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”

Zayne ❄

“I’m a doctor.”

You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”

“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”

None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”

“Is it?”

Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.

“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”

His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”

The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.

“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”

There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.

“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”

“Yes,” he says plainly.

“You’re delusional.”

“Ok.”

Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…

Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”

“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”

Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?

“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:

“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”

Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.

“You’re welcome."

Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.

Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.

“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”

You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.

“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.

“No?”

“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”

“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.

“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”

You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”

He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.

“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”

“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”

Rafayel 🔥

“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”

“Raf, who are you—”

He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”

You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.

He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.

All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…

But they don’t.

It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—

That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”

He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”

“Knew what? Who was that?”

“Zayne.”

“You called Zayne?”

“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”

The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.

Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.

“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”

“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”

You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”

“What?”

“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”

Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”

Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”

“Raf—”

“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”

You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”

Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.

“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”

“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”

You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.

“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.

His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”

“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.

Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”

“Help me out with this, cutie?”

“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.

A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”

“For the love of—” Thomas starts.

“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”

Heads turn. Cameras flash.

Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.

Sylus 🩸

“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.

“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?

“Last chance,” he growls.

“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”

He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”

“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”

“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?

“What’s wrong, Sy?”

He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.

“Sylus?”

“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”

The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”

“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”

He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.

That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.

“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”

“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”

Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”

You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?

“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.

“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”

Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.

“Come here,” he orders gently.

You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.

“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”

“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”

“What do you want to do today, Sy?”

His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”

There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.

“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”

…

“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”

He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Are the boys ok?”

The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”

Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.

“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.

“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.

#🖋rach is actually writing #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #shen xinghui #li shen #qi yu #qin che #lads #lnds #l&ds

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ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes · 2 years ago

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I am so confused, are they gonna solve everything in this episode???

#ep 100 #king falls am #I have zero self control I gotta finish this #my essays are suffering so badly right now #but I can at least finish this #me

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy.

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate.

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for.

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period.

Your cycle had been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag.

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military.

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it.

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response.

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood.

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration.

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.”

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man.

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work.

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband.

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending.

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie.

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!”

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath.

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-”

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.”

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door.

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway.

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood.

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear.

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants.

Your period had come.

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie.

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ”

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply.

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.”

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first.

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.”

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply.

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘”

“Oh shut up, meanie.”

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍”

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way.

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch.

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband.

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?”

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest.

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace.

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you.

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-”

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse.

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem.

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.”

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.”

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him.

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you.

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you.

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza.

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-”

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?”

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?”

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.”

“I think I can make that happen.”

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest.

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy.

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth.

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you.

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core.

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you.

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices.

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period.

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man.

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths.

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.”

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds.

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt.

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot.

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool.

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over.

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue.

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name.

“Frankie, holy fuck.”

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could.

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.”

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt.

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace.

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over.

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him.

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity.

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him.

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate.

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word.

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.”

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there.

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did.

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.”

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in.

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.”

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high.

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss.

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss.

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.”

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

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r0-boat · 7 months ago

Text

Ya know what fuck it NSFW Alphabet with Lycaon bc I just got him and I am in love

NSFW below mdi

Von Lycaon x Gn! reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

King of aftercare! Whatever you like, he will more than happily do, then he will check for any marks, and after that, he will give you words and affirmation telling you how well you did and how much he loves you. And he requires a little aftercare himself, holding you close and just having you for a while. He will always ask to keep you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. He takes great care of them they are soft yet strong, the same hands that will delicately clean and make everything perfect and clean, these same hands that make you writhe in pleasure and he likes that you like them.

Is it cheating to say he likes every part of you? If it is then he likes your hands. He likes pressing his hand against yours because it's a clear indication that he is much bigger than you. He likes to hold your hand,kiss the back of your hand... He likes hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When he wants to cum he will always want to cum inside you. He will even beg to fill you up. He doesn't care if he has to wear a condom or wait for your birth control. He just wants to fill you up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You will never know how much dirty thoughts he actually thinks about you. You'll never know how much fists his cock with his hand when he has a moment of peace to himself.

And you'll never know that he has ruts every early spring where he needs you so bad it hurts but he takes suppressants every time so you never notice because the thought of losing control (to Lycaon who values his self-control and discipline) Makes him angry.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's done it once or twice in his youth. So he's a little inexperienced. But he is a very quick learner, and very perceptive so he will find where all the right places to touch on your body are.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy ahah. Half joking. He doesn't mind any position however he does prefer missionary because he wants to see you and have access to your body so he can touch you, hold you or kiss you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He does not mind indulging a little bit when you're the one goofing off, petting his tail or touching his ears. but he is as serious as they come. If you get too distracted, he'll be the one to pull you back to what you're supposed to be focused on...

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Extremely well-groomed, He has a whole hair care fur care and facial care routine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance... Now that's what he truly shines, He is as romantic as they come, he sees sex as a very intimate act. And he works hard to set the mood just right for you He wants your eyes to sparkle and light up and he wants his heart to pound hard in his chest when he takes you to the bedroom. A romantic dinner, a night out beneath the stars. This man will think of it all he'll plan different dates for different occasions for different days and holidays.

You don't even want to know what he does for Valentine's Day or anniversaries... With his connections to clients and his high pay he will take you to jaw dropping fancy places. And like the gentleman he is he'll pay for everything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He was so busy that he hardly even thinks about it; however since he has you. He's been really struggling. His mind plagued with thoughts about you, and he could feel his pants already straining; he was afraid that you had awakened something inside of him that he thought he had outgrown. What have you done to him?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I've said it a few times before so you could already guess that He has some sort of size kink. With a creampie kink, slight breeding, pet play(with you being the pet) and master/servant.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, he will not do it anywhere else. You can try to convince him to do it at his desk.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wearing something extremely nice, like something as usual clients would wear He will try not to stare. Catching them off guard like a lingerie or discovering that you're wearing nothing underneath your clothing will also turn him on to no end.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not, under any circumstances hurt you. Whether it be biting or scratching . You are small compared to him so he fears hurting you too much. Even if you wanted he's extremely hesitant out of fear of losing control of his own strength. He will choke you lightly and he'll be rough with you but anything past that. No

He will also never ever fuck you in a bathroom, outside or in a hollow too dirty!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving, of course he doesn't mind receiving but, he'd rather be on his knees tasting you, He loves to see you ride and squirm on his time and he loves the taste of you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he stressed, However usually it's a good pace and sensual taking his time to feel every bit of you, but fast enough to satisfy you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

At first he didn't like them, but then after teasing him so much he dragged you into his office to teach you a 'lesson.' with a hang on your mouth and his teeth digging into your shirt, he now sees the appeal of quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes when your risky, but he's not the risk taking type. Well there are exceptions.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lots of stamina, he can last for a few rounds before he begins to tire.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, toys, Toys are that exception of risky. Since you like to be a little horny brat, then you shouldn't mind a vibrator inside you outside as he plays with the buttons

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He only teases when your bad and he has to punish you. Sometimes he teases when he wants to see you beg, But he doesn't do it often He's not cruel.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's quiet at first, Breaths and growls, he gets louder the longer he fucks you, louder when he's close to cumming, until he cums inside you with a howl.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lycaon admits, he hesitated when he first had you underneath him; all you were, he didn't want to hurt you. Now he's addicted to the way you take him, your tiny hole stretching around him, struggling to fit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big muscular Man, trains frequently at the gym.BIIG VEINY COCK, with a knot, he can't help but feel a little bit of pride at his big size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

At first it was almost not existent now that it has you he could barely contain it. He tries to control himself so he's constantly in the state of yearning for your touch.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After finishing he holds you close opens a book and reads until he falls asleep, finger threading through your hair as he gently pets you.

#smut #zzzero #zzzero lycaon #von lycaon #zzz lycaon #lycaon x reader #zzzero smut #zzz #zenless zone zero #zzz lycaon x reader

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n0cturnalp1g · 3 months ago

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Barely Even Friends

Summary: A marriage that wasn't even supposed to be the solution became the only solution to remedy the Wretched Hightower. Characters: Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader!Hightower. Otto Hightower. Alicent Hightower. Word Count: 1,775 Chapter Warnings: Not Edited. Otto being father of the year. Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prince Daemon Targaryen was an enigma that you wish never to be associated with since your return to King’s Landing, and yet here you were. Preparing for a marriage that you did not want nor did you even need. But your atrocities and your father’s conniving nature could not bend the King’s will as he was all the more convinced that the union between yourself and his brother would benefit the realm.

Two Hightower sisters wedded to the two Targaryen brothers. How pathetic of a house could they be to stoop so low for the sake of power.

“I’m sure it will not be as bad as you think it will be.” Alicent, as much as you had grown to resent her for choosing to accept the fate forced upon her by your father, there was still the worry of an older sister towards your baby sister.

“You are married to a King, Alicent. I am bound to a Prince that has no self-control and a reputation that precedes him.”

“No different from you, Sister.” Alicent pointed with a smile that immediately fell upon the sight of your pointed glare towards her.

“Do you truly believe that what our father wants is for our sake or of his own?” You inquired to your sister as you peered around the chamber that was your sister’s own since her marriage to the King, the former Queen’s bedroom to be more specific. “To live under the control of yet another man, giving him children upon children until you experience the same fate as the Late Queen?”

Silence lingered in the chamber. The frown deepens on your younger sister’s lips at the words you knew as her fears come to life. There was no escaping such a fact, not even a Queen could escape such a fate if the Gods were cruel enough to grant it to her.

“Everyone dies, Sister.”

“But not everyone tries to meet with the Stranger more than she needs to.” You quipped right back looking at her evident bump. “You’ve given him an heir as what was required out of you, is it duty anymore or just ignorance?”

You know well enough you’ve offended her. A momentary guilt spreads through your core at the sight of the little girl you had vowed to your mother you would protect with all of your life, from the cruelty of your father and of the world–yet somehow here you were, being the main source of the pain.

“I think it is best for you to rest for the night, Sister.” She dismissed you and it was enough to end the conversation you had.

You sighed and nodded.

“As you wish, your Grace.” You spoke before turning your way and leaving her chambers.

A sigh had escaped your lips at the sight of a handful of guards on watch–more for you than for the Queen herself. They were making sure you did not leave, not this time especially with the apparent betrothal to the Rogue Prince himself. Everyone knew you would escape–it was expected out of you at this point, but you were tired.

If it wasn’t one thing, it would be another. With the guards following her closely as she made her way to her chambers, the fury and annoyance growing ever more prominent in her skin with the three guards that followed just behind you. You could escape them if you wanted to–maybe you would just to spite everyone involved in this idiocy.

“Leave us.”

The hair at the back of your head stood at the familiar voice. Oh how you loathe the voice of the man that you now had the misfortune of calling your betrothed.

“You know it is frowned upon to have the two of us in private, Your Grace.” You quipped but the two of you knew you could care less about your reputation, but you did not want to be in his presence at the moment.

“And I am certain neither of us care of such a reputation, Lady Hightower.”

“But neither of us want to deal with our respective family at this time.”

Turning you were met with the smug smirk of the Prince. Your hand was aching to slap the smirk off of his face, but held yourself back especially with the guards that have yet to move from their position in front of you. The conflict of their duty to her and the position of the man in front of them all.

“I am in no mood to deal with you, Daemon.” You spoke frankly, no longer having the energy for his games. “You’ve done too much damage to what little grasp of freedom I still had in these seven hells you call the Keep.”

The smirk on his face disappeared at your words, his eyes turned once again to the guards that were here to control you instead of protecting you.

“Do not make me tell you twice, no one will like the blood I am willing to spill this evening.” His voice growing a tinge louder that physically had you taking a step back because of it.

It was enough to have the guards leaving you in the mercy of the man that you would be marrying in the following moon–whether you like it or not. You sighed seeing you were now alone in the hallway with the man that demanded a fate you would never give to your worst of enemies.

“Do you think so little of me?”

You stared at him, daring him to think about his words. Of the reality he forcefully bestowed upon you. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to be in King’s Landing, they should have stripped you of what little nobility you still had and left you to fend for yourself–it was better than the situation you had now.

“I would ask the same thing since you forced yourself into a marriage I did not want nor did I even need, Your Grace.” You spoke frankly. “But what I want does not matter, it is your will and I am bound to follow it whether I like it or not.”

Without another word, you turned and made your way to your chambers, refusing to wait for a response from your future husband and the fate he will place upon you.

“You truly can’t do anything to save me from such a fate?” You had asked your father as you finally readied yourself for your marriage to a Prince and Otto was to walk you down the aisle to your future husband.

It was not a happy affair, the skies were bleak and dark as your own mood. Marriage should be a happy affair, but it never was for you. It was a death sentence for a life that will never truly be your own.

“It is the will of the King and of your future husband.”

You snorted, refusing to look him in the eye anymore as your servant has finished with your dress. You chose to dress in your family’s colors of green, instead of the red and black of your future husband’s own. Even in the last moments of your future, you wanted to grasp into a small piece of hope of this not pushing through.

“Until the very end, you continue to be a lapdog for the Targaryen and their whims.” You spoke frankly. “I had thought you would be satisfied with pleasing the King with my younger sister, but for the life of me I cannot believe that for all the loathe and gripe you had for Daemon, you would use me as another one of your tools.”

Your father said nothing towards you, instead focused on the servants leaving the room and not hearing anymore of the words that would certainly land in your demise at the hand of the King’s Justice, a fate better than was already placed upon you.

“You placed me upon a family that I did not want to be a part of. And now you will pay for the consequence of it when the time comes that much I can promise you, Father.”

“What do you wish for me to have done instead?” He finally acknowledged you, eyes burning with anger and an emotion that you had never truly seen in your father–fear.

“You should have been a father to me,” You admit. “You should have kept your promise to Mother before she passed.”

He said nothing as you were both signaled to head towards the sept for the ceremony. You did not hold his arm even if he presented it to you. You couldn’t. You did not want to hold him as he fed you to the dragon. You did not want to give him the right to do so anymore.

“There will be a time that Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne will come, and I can assure you that I will make sure that all of your plans do not come to fruition. No one in our family or our bloodline will ever sit on the Iron Throne.”

As you both continued on to walk, the echoes of your shared footsteps muting the sound of your beating heart.

“When the time comes, I will ensure that my future husband will erase you and our name from the history books for what you had made me do today, Otto.”

It was a promise that you were certain you will keep, whether anyone likes it or not. Nothing fuels a resentful daughter more than spite.

You ignored your father’s gentle whisper of your name, as the doors to the sept opened and you were met with the sight of a handful of nobles present to the union that you never wanted.

Once again, your father offered his arms but instead you walked with him quick to follow the pace you made. Staring at the man by the altar with the septon. The smirk on his lips ever growing bigger, and in that moment the first line of tear fell from your cheeks.

As soon as you stood besides the man that will now be your husband, your world stills as the tears continued to fall from your eyes and the smirk on his face disappeared at the sight of you.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Even as the words escaped the Septon’s lips, there was no protection that would ever reassure you of the betrayal of your father and what he chose not to do for you and for the sake of what little control you still had in your life.

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sm-baby · 1 year ago

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MASTERPOST - Piece by Piece ♟️

NEW MASTERPOST DROPPED!! The name is subject to change~ don't worry~

Characters:

Meet Mei-lyn!

Rolandus!

Meet The King and Queen!

Queen (Pre-evolved)

Meet Councilwoman Mars!

Meet Mr. Weiss!

World Building:

Cards and Chess pieces!

Card personalities

Different species!

Evolution Guide

And yes, they evolve like pokemon.

Black Chess pieces

Black and White kingdom

Time frame

SILLIES!!!:

Yes, Mei-lyn gets paid well

SLUTSHAMING!!!

Dont talk to me until I had my coffee

Morning entertainment

no bitches! 🎉🎊

oh shi character ai

HONK!!!

Little Fuckface Shithead

Human centipede🎶

Party Tension (oopsies!!!)

Give my girl a break

╔══ ❀•°❀FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

" How old is Mei-Lyn?" - Mei Lyn is 23 years old! Started working for the king and queen at 17, got the cock-blocking job at 18. " How tall is the cast?" - MAN... HEIGHTS ARE A HEADACHE... I DON'T WANNA THINK ABOUT THAT "Will we ever see a black king and queen?" - They come when they come! I don't think they'll be any time soon though. " Do the King and Queen have an heir?" - Naur, though they know that they'd have to at some point. Either way, they'd be very neglectful parents.

"Did the Queen and King love eachother?"

- Bro was a cheater from the beginning and the queen knew damn well. That did NOT stop her from marrying him and becoming queen tho. She's greedy and wants power.

"Why is Weiss' sister a black chess piece?'

- Weiss is mixed!

" Are black chess pieces african coded?"

- Nope! Black/White chess peices are a secondary ethnicity. There are white chess peices that are african coded.

" Can I rizz up Mei-lyn?" - Mei-lyn doesn't believe in true love. She's uncommitted and will leave you at the altar.

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In PTP?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay! Just keep Mei-lyn out-- she was originally a sona and-- while I'm detached from her enough to not take the simping personally, NSFW would still make me uncomfortable. - Other than that, everyone else (WHO IS LEGAL AND NOT PROSHIPPED) should be free! Please just be sure to tell and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - - Yes and please show me!! That would be lovely!! " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Same as NSFW! Everyone is free but Mei-lyn! Though I find one-sided crushes and the simping endearing and funny (PROSHIPPING IS ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOWED.)

" Gender and sexualitie headcanons?" - I don't like labels. All my characters are straight until said otherwise-- and I am uncomfortable with people headcanoning my OCs with genders and sexuality. I wish to have control over that. - Though, I'm flattered with mlm/wlw OC x canon shipping with the OCs! That's different in my brain for some reason!

#Piece by piece #mei #mei lyn #mei-lyn #meilyn #clownsona #persona #queen #king #masterpost

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vamptarot · 6 months ago

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Why I Think Your Insecurity Is Beautiful | PAC

𐀔 pile one 𝜗𝜚 pile two ✮ pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose whichever you feel drawn to or ask your guides to guide your eyes to the one that is meant for you! ᡣ𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ accidentally turned out as a pep talk pac </3 well, not completely, but I apologise 🫡 not proof read.

𐀔 pile one : – teddy gems !

𐙚 : knight of swords rev. , eight of swords rev. , knight of cups rev. , king of swords rev.

bottom of the deck : queen of swords rev.

♡ ⢷ why I think your insecurities are beautiful

I can see from the cards that people in this pile have body image issues due to bullying, self harm, e.ds or simply being put down by family members through inappropriate comments.

This especially could be true if you are not average weight for your height, don’t like the way your leg looks or don’t enjoy the way your stretch marks look on your body. It could potentially make you feel like you aren’t attractive, and that the people you are interested in wouldn’t even give you a second look.

Well I am here to say it’s not true, and it also doesn’t matter.

Your life shouldn’t revolve around romantic validation. Of course, you can care about the opinion of your romantic interests, how they view you and what not, but your life is yours. Whether or not there is someone to love you in a romantic manner you are beautiful, valid and possess a wonderful soul.

You are uniquely you, no one can do it like you but you only.

There is so many wonderful things about you, who gives a (what) about the opinion of people who won’t even matter in five years?

Don’t stress yourself out over things that are not worth your time beautiful.

Besides, I do think that your body is very pretty. “Oh but you don’t even know what it looks like! “ Yes I do, I have the gift of clairvoyance baby.

Of course, I do not mean this in a creepy way at all. [for those with uncomfortable or horrifying looks on their face.. ] Rather, what I mean is that your insecurities don’t take away from beauty at all, I would argue they add even more to it.

Your scars? They are here to tell us that you went through something horrible and came out winning. Or will. You don’t have the energy of someone that would lose themselves completely anyway, my beautiful pile one is a fighter!

Regardless, I just think that you are so cool, you went through all that yet you are still here today, trying your best to survive. Even if you don’t see it that way, I just think you are so strong.

Some people in this pile are also underweight, due to health issues, one unrelated to e.ds. You could be insecure about that, especially if your bones show. [Around your shoulders, is what I see for most of you.] I would like to say, please don’t beat yourself up about things that are out of your control. You are literally so pretty!! I like your eyes, and I am pretty suuure many people like your lips too. People that are romantically interested in you. There is quite a few, you just don’t notice due to being in your head a little too much. You kinda remind me of Bella Swan, but just a bit smarter and more mature. I just so happen to love twilight and find her sooo pretty… I am sure it’s hard to go through the things you do, but your personality, soul and outter appearance is full of beauty because it’s so clear that your heart is so full of love. So what if you are not someone’s type? Fu.. them, who cares lol You gonna be naturally beautiful regardless of their opinion.

You could also hate your stretch marks because they remind you of a time of your life where you didn’t like yourself, or for some of you they remind you of a part of yourself that you aren’t proud of.. Well guess what, I got them too, now we are matching baby girl / baby boy / baby 🙂‍↕️🤞🏻 [in a platonic way, of course <3<3]

No but seriously, you tell me WHY wouldn’t it make you more beautiful? If you don’t like them that’s okay, but beating yourself up and bullying your own self over something like this is not okay!

Your health comes first baby, don’t be the main cause of your misery. I think your stretch marks are beautiful, they wrap around your body like a hug.

Besides, if you don’t like it you can get rid of them.. but I don’t feel the need to, after all they can be a sign of your hard work. And I mean that! I don’t look at those sort of things, but if you pay closer attention to the instagram pics of some body builders I am sure you will be able to find a few with stretch marks. Also some artists! I love looking at concert stages, and I am pretty sure if you do too you will see some people, both women and men, have stretch marks regardless of size.

It’s really not an indicator or shame, it’s the indicator that you have a human body with human needs and reactions. It will never make you ugly no matter how much you want to believe it will. It just won’t, matter of fact a lot of you in this pile are sexy af but don’t even know it because you care too much about what other people think. 😵‍💫

It’s okay tho, I get it. Just don’t be too much in your head.

On that note, if you have a darker skin complexion please try body glitter on your stretch marks. I am specifically seeing yellow and blue. You will look pretty / hot af trust 🙂‍↕️ [ only calling adults hot also 🫡 ]

♡ ⢷ what you can do to be more confident

This will make me sound like a b!tch, and I don’t mean to be.. But a diet could possibly help and make you feel more confident. [Why are you getting mad, I told you it will make me sound like a b!tch!?] Of course, I don’t mean this with any sort of malicious intent.

A lot of people think diets consist of depriving yourself from food. Which is not true at all, diets depend on multiple factors including your health, weight, lifestyle, eating habits and so on. That’s why dieticians exist!

The sort of one I am thinking of is actually just balancing your meals. Now, I am no control freak so I won’t give you a whole schedule or ‘dos and don’ts’.. I just want to tell you that it is okay to eat both healthy and unhealthy food. That way, your immune system will be healthier and you will get more energy to actually do the things you want to enjoy and participate in. Whether that’s working out, going outside on walks or to the mall, drawing, painting, writing… is not my business! You can do whatever you want, I am only here to remind you that you don’t need to starve or deprive yourself in order to be healthy. It’s actually bad for you.

If you want to eat a kinder bueno after your avocado toast, or eat a burger bc you ate a home made meal the other day you should go ahead and do that baby girl / baby boy / baby mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️

Don’t take away good things from yourself just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.

That goes for food and other things you enjoy. If you wanna buy a cute lipgloss, buy the cute lipgloss. Don’t worry about overconsumption. I am being so serious, most people in this pile worrying about it have only a few lip products that are pushing being 5 years old or even older.

Spoil yourself, you deserve it. Even if you don’t in your eyes.. who gaf ? There will always be someone who thinks of you as undeserving of things because of their own misery. So just do what you wanna do, live life for yourself. Maybe it’s your last. Enjoy it!

So what if you don’t know how to use it? lol.. You will learn along the way. No one starts out perfect, and if they do, they are lying! [If you do really struggle tho, @/clownmakeupmua on tiktok did help me a lot!!]

If you wanna buy that artsy stuff.. do it! I promise you aren’t wasting money if most of your stuff can be bought for 5-10$ and then that one thing is like super expensive. You deserve nice things whether you like it or not!!! Your mental health matters and if you need to pamper yourself to feel better that’s okay!!! It’s not a crime to love yourself, neither is it a sin!! 😤 No, seriously, I mean those things.

You are wonderful, the world is already cruel, so you shouldn’t be that to yourself. I know getting out of habits and thinking patterns can be hard, but eventually you will need to have a different perspective of them to heal. It’s okay if it takes long, do it step by step at your own pace. You will eventually get there.

♡ ⢷ five things that are cool about you

one - you remind me so much of the song dancing queen by abba.. or you know, from mama mia if you aren’t familiar with the name. I think you are just like that song. many people think it’s not something they would vibe to.. but then they hear it and can’t stop singing along. with you, people think that you might not enjoy them around since you are introverted, but as soon as they get to know you better they crave your presence, they want you to be around. over and over, they want to spend time with you whenever they can.

two - the body is BODYIIIIING. I do not care what you say, it does, you are beautiful! you look soooo beautiful in red! let that be a shirt or lipstick.. this is especially true for someone reading this pile that’s into vintage fashion! 20s - 40s? whichever decade it is, trust you would KIIIILLL that look. [you know, like, slay..] try it if you wish 👀

three - do you have the sort of relationship with your friends where you are like siblings? the one where you can tease them or mock them, but if anyone else does you will make sure that they will regret it? because that is so cool about you. as I was growing up, I had a very close friend who was like that to me too. they always made me feel safe, and that’s what you remind me of. the feeling of safety. I am sure people around you are very comfortable. and that’s so cool!

four - you have such a good music taste I am hearing, mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️ matter of fact, if you chose this pile pleaseee recommend me songs you like regardless of when you see this. even if it’s months or years after upload!! I feel like your music taste is so fun, it could definitely get people hyped up or in their feels.. the people around you for sure always listen to whatever you recommend! it’s like, they can’t really go wrong with it

five - fashion on poiiiint, like you just ATEEEE.. no I am serious, I do think your accessories are very cool and put the whole picture together. it can be your shoes, nails or jewellery, you always choose well! it suits you and it suits your outfit. this especially goes if you are a guy / man, because it’s hard to dress fashionable by default but you do make it work so well 🙂‍↕️ and the ladies in this pile have such an unique sense of fashion they stand out from any piles 🙂‍↕️ my fashionistas 🙂‍↕️

— ✮⋆˙ : girl groups , lolly by maejor, juicy j & justin bieber , sweet tooth , adele (hell yeaaaaah) , messy hair , box dyes , long nails , ‘my babysitter is a vampire’ , 00s , mango , amigo , the statue of mother Mary crying , fertility issues

that’s all for now my beautiful pile one! your reading made me sooo sad because you are literally such a cute, cool and pretty person and yet you don’t see that.. do you want me to get that talking mirror from snow white so he can tell you himself?! bc imma get it 🤨 jokes aside, idgaf if you are the fairest of them all or not, you for sure are the loveliest! mwa <3 thank you for reading!

paid readings

𝜗𝜚 pile two : – sweater !

𐙚 : nine of wands rev. nine of pentacles rev., ten of pentacles, seven of pentacles

bottom of the deck : five of swords

♡ ⢷ why I think your insecurities are beautiful

You know what, I actually started out your reading sweet and kind, thinking it’s about being behind in life and about financial issues. Even gave you a song recommendation. Then tumblr deleted the entire section… 🫡

So, I spent more time looking at your cards.. meditated, connected to your energy. Eventually, I figured this is my troubled pile.

Simply, you are not proud of the person that you are. Lucky for you, I am the ‘I can change him’ sorta gal 🙂‍↕️

Of course, I am just joking. I am not here to change anything about you, I am here to uplift you.

Before I will do that, I will tell you about a celebrity that I used to like as a kid. I do not care if you don’t know much about celebrities, because that’s not really relevant! I am bringing him up because many people in this pile can relate to his story. If you can’t that’s okay, it’s not a message that was meant for you but for someone else.

Either way, have you ever heard of Kim Jisoo?.. No, not the blackpink one, but the actor! He was accused of doing bad things in his childhood, which he admitted to and apologised for because even if he changed as a person, guilt and anxiety always followed him. Even though he did that because he did think it’s the right thing to do, to be fair and honest, people made more accusations against him. Heavy ones. He was then kicked out of the company, and black listed from being an actor in Korea. You know what’s the thing though? Each and every accusation after his apology was false, the person didn’t even know him. Yet, many people still blame him for things he has not done.

My dearest pile two, I can see you not caring.. at least some of you. However, I did tell you this because you remind me of him in a sense. You know you have made mistakes, some worse, some almost insignificant by now. You own up to it, you have made the apologies necessary, you are the sort of person that doesn’t shy away from accountability because you are pretty mature in your own right. Yet, people like to lie about you right? Twist your words. Ruin your reputation as if it was nothing but fun to them. Then they call you crazy when you get angry, potentially even gaslighting you. It’s annoying.

The sort of regrets people have here are different from one another. Some is just things like yelling at a loved one, while others are much more graphic to the point I do not believe it’s appropriate for me to detail them. Though, not as vile as you might believe.

Enough of that though, I should get the the point.~

Your insecurity seems to come from deep within, from your soul. You worry that you are truly a bad person, not able to change.. That there is something inherently rotten inside you.

I am here to tell you that’s not true. I think you are pretty neat. Yeah, sure, everybody has regrets.. so what? They are regrets for a reason, it’s not truly who you are but mistakes you have made when you were in a vulnerable state of mind. That is not a sin.

Making one bad decision doesn’t mean you are immediately a bad person. Neither is making several. Especially if someone else forces or pushes you to! Come on now sweetheart, think from a higher sense of your being. Truly bad people don’t care they are bad even if they know, they just enjoy the pain and discomfort they have caused for other people.

That’s not you, I can see that you have a such a kind soul. I know what you did, and I do not care, because I still see the good in you.

You are kind to kids, the elderly, strangers on the street.. even if they don’t necessarily deserve it. Seriously, you are the sort of person that gives up seats for other people. (Especially if they are vulnerable, such as someone pregnant, elderly or injured.) The kinda person to stop to pet puppies, to feed stray animals and not care if they come back because it just means you can feed them again. You don’t see an issue with it. The sorta person to hold younger people’s ears when there is a fight so they aren’t scared. You just give and give and give.

You are so unconditionally generous, it’s actually shocking. With your time, money, food, resources, abilities.. is there something you don’t give? [I do not mean this in a mean manner 🫶🏻, it’s a praise. I adore generous people.]

Even when you are hurting, even when you are angry.. you hold it back and think of the happiness of other people. It’s like hurting other people is your greatest fear.

Yet you keep on emotionally hurt yourself, like a bully. Please stop with it, I don’t think you deserve it. Why would you judge someone based on the lowest part of their life? I know you wouldn’t, and since you are a person you deserve the same kind of respect you give to others. From within and from outside.

You are not a doormat, you are not an animal, you are just you. It’s okay to treat yourself gently, I just see a hurt kid when I look at your soul. You remind me of a little lamb. So vulnerable, yet so mistreated.

If you need to, please find yourself a safe space, a support net. It’s okay to rely on other people, I think if you allow yourself to heal the beauty in your heart will be seen in every step you make. You remind me of a pretty flower field as well, so sunny and bright.

I am sorry for the amount of comparisons in this pile, you are seriously so beautiful, chic, elegant, talented and lovely. I don’t want you to think, not even for a second, that you are anything less than deserving of love and peace.

You are so beautiful, constantly trying to make up for your past mistakes.. making sure that people don’t end up hurt like you do. There is so much nurture and worry in your heart.

The past is the past, live in the present.

♡ ⢷ what you can do to be more confident

Defend yourself. It’s okay.

Like genuinely, if you feel like someone is being too much it’s okay to defend yourself. You have a right, and just because someone doesn’t like you it won’t make them entitled to lie about you or hurt you way beyond what any human should take.

Speak your truth, but be disciplined. That way, who truly can say anything about you? Even if they won’t like you, people won’t bother you if you keep true to yourself, if you speak from your heart honestly.

You are not deserving of being bullied or hurt. If someone treats you as a pushover or looks down on you show them that whatever little ill fantasy they have created in their head of you is wrong. You are much more than what you let people on, I truly believe that.

You are really cool, ya know? Of course it’s okay to have doubts, but I think one of your beauties is that you have so much mental strength in you. Just don’t surpass it, as it could make things harder to deal with.

Something that you can really benefit from is to not let your feelings and emotions build up over time, especially if you struggle with anger issues. This could lead to you being so pent up with frustration that you end up letting it out on other people 😞

It’s okay to be angry, but you shouldn’t let it consume you. Feel your emotions for 20 minutes, then just let them go, allow yourself to let them go and not cling into them as that’s unhealthy for you. You can learn and grow, but you have to actively choose that for yourself.

If you experienced past violence, bullying or anything of the sort… also let them go. You don’t have to forgive them, it’s your choice to make not mine.

Do you know that saying that goes sort of like, “ there is always a man watching you, even in your mind/fantasies “? If you live your life continuously remembering the people that hurt you, you cannot heal. So please do yourself a favour, just live for yourself.

If that abusive person kept telling you to dress modest, stop hiding yourself. Dress however you want, if it’s revealing, it’s okay! If it’s modest good, that’s what you are comfortable in. If you are nervous to go to xyz place because it reminds you of them.. that’s fine, you go there now because that’s where you wanna go to, to make new memories. If not, just go wherever your heart desires.. or stay home. Living for you is not a sin, and it will never ever be selfish. Your life is yours, it belongs to you.

From now on, if you have the strength to, have yourself in mind when you do things. [It’s of course fine to be considerate and thoughtful of people, that’s not what I am talking about here.] Allow yourself to live.

♡ ⢷ five things that are cool about you

one - bad b energy mhm mhm 🙂‍↕️ there is a sort of air surrounding you that just screams ‘don’t mess with me’, which I think is soooo admirable. you are definitely not unfriendly at all of course, but it’s obvious that people shouldn’t make enemies with you. not because you are a bad person, but because of your sense of justice.

two - adults only message, sorry kiddos 🫡 this isn’t necessary a sexual thing, but I felt the need to put that addition.. like a gut feeling, ya know? I don’t want to be misunderstood 😤 anyway, your guides are saying that you have a really pretty tummy? like your tummy. your belly.. it’s pretty. I don’t know if you work out but it also doesn’t matter because I am seeing this for all sort of people.. those who work out, those who have a soft tummy, the chubbier ppl, the skinnier people.. men, women.. matter of fact if you happen to be pregnant rn you are extremeeeely beautiful! I think your guides wanted to help out with your body image issues is all <3 so cute, you really are pretty.

three - hair? something about your hair is so beautiful, it makes you look like an angel. very pure and loving as well. I am also seeing an encouragement to go ahead and change it if you wish to do so. you look pretty either way, with whatever hair colour!!! <3

four - you are so persistent!! you work so hard ??? like there is nothing that can bring your spirit down baby. unstoppable force kind of energy!! that is so cool, just make sure to watch out to not overwhelm yourself 🫶🏻

five - YOU LIKE TO GIVE ACTS OF SERVICE 🫵🏻 mhm you are the sort of person to peel fruits for your loved ones, put their phones on the charger, prepare their clothes and do these little things to make their life easier on harder days 🙂‍↕️ that’s so admirable, I look up to you in this case!

— ✮⋆˙ : teacher’s pet , my little pony , ‘a whole new world’ / ‘ can you feel the love tonight ‘ , ‘icey, wifey, haters wanna fight me. ‘ , lotto , number one , trampoline , today’s tickets (?)

my beautiful pile two, please stop looking down on yourself or heaven is gonna have a problem 🙂‍↕️ IT WILL BE MISSING AN ANGEL 🫵🏻 no but seriously, no kidding, I do think many of you here think that I am being fake nice to you in order to get people to interact more or read my pile and what not.. but I don’t care about how many people read my pile, I care about my messages being sincere from the heart and as accurate as possible. besides, I mean the things I said! don’t underestimate how forgiving my heart can be.. like I am fr a hater but I don’t hate you, so what does that tell you? 🧐 anyway, give yourself a rest beautiful, you have been enough harsh already. thank you for reading!

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✮ pile three : – book !

𐙚 : page of cups rev. , page of swords rev. , five of pentacles , knight of wands

bottom of the deck : nine of cups rev.

♡ ⢷ why I think your insecurities are beautiful

Hii my sweet, sweet pile three! Your energy is the most private, I thought I would let you know before you begin reading ᡣ𐭩

Out of all piles, yours is the one that had me stunned the most. Not because of any sort of bad reason, but this is such a sensitive and hard breaking topic my beautiful pile three..

Your insecurity is related to your dreams, worrying if you are enough. Enough young, enough talented, enough lucky…

It left me speechless because I can feel the pain in your heart, this can affect you on such a deep level. Most likely ever since your childhood. For some of you guys, you were made to work hard at something that you didn’t even care for, possibly still are, just to please your parents or other people around you.

It’s heavy, right? You are worried that if you actually go for something that you want you will worry the people around you.

I see your struggles, you don’t want to be selfish. Though, I don’t see that in your heart, rather I see something so beautiful. Love! Sounds cliché or whatever, but it’s still in your heart.

For the people around you and for the dream that you have for a long, long time. This is different for everyone, some of you dream of being a mom, some of you a ballerina, for most of you it’s related to music in one way or another.. I don’t think you are too old. At all. You never are.. only death can hold you back from achieving your dreams. Who knows, maybe not even he can.

For some of you, who are unable to live them out, this is a confirmation to reality shift / timeline jump.. That’s for only a very few people reading this though, most of you can and will achieve your dreams in this lifetime even if you give it your all.

I do not care if you are over 30, 40, 50 and so on.. I won’t promise that it will be fast, easy or that you will immediately get whatever you want; but the fire in your heart is burning with so much passion that it’s impossible to ignore.

The love that you have towards this ideal life of yours is so beautiful, I truly love it. Your eyes get so bright and full of life when you talk about the things you love and enjoy, yet you don’t even know it.

I would say it’s tragic, but that’s not true, because a sad ending doesn’t suit you. You are meant to be happy, and I hope that you will remember this.

♡ ⢷ what you can do to be more confident

Just do it. ✓

No, but for real, the cards here are incredibly supportive. So if you feel like you are ready for it and it’s the right call do what your heart calls you to do, that childhood dream of yours that you always dreamed of.

[Of course, I mean this as an encouragement for arts and such, not anything that can harm someone… let that be you or others.]

Do that art form, start to learn that subject, work towards that profession… who cares if people will like what you do or not? You do, you have passion and appreciation towards it in your heart. So the rest doesn’t matter, because you have this in your hands. Your destiny is under your control, whether you like that as a fact or not.. You are waaaay more powerful than what you think.

Your message is simple, so unfortunately I cannot write a lot here.. I think your guides are just intending this to be a wake up call, that you can always start anew. Your past is not you, neither is your present.. you can always change it. You don’t have to be stuck.

Just be you.

♡ ⢷ five things that are cool about you

one - you can get things done so easily.. muuuuch easier than other people, through sheer will and that’s all you need to get things done. it’s so admirable, tbh.

two - your art!! even if you aren’t into art or such stuff, it still has many many forms. you possibly like creating things, something that’s special to you. while it’s different for everyone in this pile, I think it’s so insanely cool you can just create something so perfect with so much attention to detail.

three - your posture! this is especially for people who are into dancing and actively practicing, I do think that you improve a lot day by day even if you don’t necessarily notice it. you could be perfecting the moves through hard work and be hella proud of it because you worked so hard. I am proud of you too!

four - your ability to just tune out, and be calm despite the hardships that you face. not a lot of people are able to stay still when they are hurting, or keep completely calm without losing themselves.. you are very mature and grounded. I adore this about you.

five - you have so much unconditional kindness it’s so remarkable and impactful. you probably don’t know this, but you are genuinely such a safe space for people.. your energy is so comforting.

— ✮⋆˙ : 50s diner , elvis & priscilla presley , pepper , paperbackpress , ‘one in a billion’ , sneezy from snow white, ballet shoes , paintings , true crime stories , jack the ripper , green apples , kiwi without it’s skin

my beautiful pile three.. I am so sorry that I couldn’t say more, your energy is a bit closed off and shy due to the things that you are going through and I didn’t wanna be forceful. though, I do hope that you can start healing soon and see the beauty in your passions… It’s important what your loved ones want, but you yourself should be a loved one as well. so don’t ignore your needs sweetheart 🫶🏻 thank you for reading!

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