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thebarneschronicles · 3 days ago

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Nine Lives

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore.

You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

Trigger Warnings: Bullet wounds, unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, dirty talk, BUCKY BARNES (he needs his own warning)

Author’s Note: I had been tinkering with a few scenes in this and the Thunderbolts trailer made me finish it. Hope you like it! B x

-- Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.

Whether it was because he got on your last nerve or because you were desperately, irrevocably, undeniably in love with him—either way, he’d be the reason your heart stopped beating.

And honestly? It might happen in the next five minutes. Because God help you, the man was insufferable.

The room smelled like burnt coffee and bad decisions.

Sam stood at the front, gesturing at a holographic map as he laid out the mission plan, his voice steady and patient—too patient, the way a parent speaks when they know their kids are about to cause problems.

You were paying attention. You really were. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed– and looking bored out of his mind.

Every once in a while, he flicked his gaze to you, not saying anything. Just watching.

And you knew that look. That I’m about to do something reckless and you’re going to yell at me for it look.

You gritted your teeth.

“—we’ll go in through the east entrance,” Sam continued, pointing at the building layout. “Stealth is key. No unnecessary attention.”

Bucky made a quiet sound. It wasn’t quite a scoff, but it was close enough.

Sam’s jaw flexed. “Got something to add, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged, like the whole thing was barely worth his effort. “I just think you’re overcomplicating it.”

Your brows shot up. Oh, here we go.

Sam closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten. “What part is complicated?”

Bucky shifted, pushing off the wall. “The part where we’re tiptoeing around like we’re on a damn field trip. We go in, take out the threats, get what we need. Done.”

You turned in your chair, slowly. “Take out the threats?”

Bucky smirked. “What?”

“What?” you repeated, voice rising. “You mean brute force? Like some kind of rabid raccoon?”

Sam sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

Bucky grinned, which somehow made it worse. “I’d say more wolf, but sure.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the table. “Barnes, if you go off-script, I swear to God—”

“Relax, doll,” he said, casual as anything. “I’ll mostly follow the plan.”

Your eye twitched. “Mostly?”

Sam exhaled sharply, muttering to himself. “I should start charging overtime for this.”

Bucky wasn’t done, though—he turned that damn smirk back on you. “You do love bossing me around, don’t you?”

And that? That was the last straw.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood, planting your hands on your hips. “We are sticking to the plan, Barnes. No improvising. No wandering off. No turning this into some solo hero death mission.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through gritted teeth as you fought for patience you absolutely did not have. “Why is your solution to everything brute force? Sam has a plan. A good plan. A plan that does not involve you punching your way through every obstacle.”

Bucky folded his arms across his broad chest, looking completely unfazed. If anything, he seemed amused. “First of all, rude. Second of all, my way works.”

“You mean it works when it doesn’t get us killed?” you shot back, voice rising. “Which, by the way, is not a guarantee.”

His mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. “C’mon, doll, you’re overreacting.”

And there it was. That goddamn nickname.

You felt it like a spark in your bloodstream, a rush of heat you refused to acknowledge. Instead, you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck. “Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I’m serious. We are sticking to the plan.”

“I am sticking to the plan,” he said, far too casually. “I’m just… modifying it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Modifying it?”

“Enhancing.”

“You mean ignoring it?”

He shrugged and you had never wanted to strangle and kiss someone in equal measure more in your life.

God, this man was going to be the death of you.

You took a slow, deep breath, curling your fingers into fists at your sides. “Bucky. No modifications. No enhancements. No Barnes-ifying the plan.”

He tilted his head, looking irritatingly pleased with himself. “Barnes-ifying? Huh. I kinda like that.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Of course you do.”

Sam, who had been observing this entire exchange with the long-suffering patience of a saint, let out a loud sigh. “Are you two done? Or should we clear the room so you can work out all that tension?”

Your head snapped toward him. “There is no tension.”

Bucky, the absolute menace that he was, had the audacity to murmur, “Oh, there’s tension.”

Your entire body went rigid. Your face felt hot. You whirled back to him, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “I will kill you.”

His lips twitched. “I’d love to see you try, doll.”

You weren’t sure what infuriated you more—the way he said it— doll —like it was his own private joke, or the fact that you liked it. Loved it, even. That it sent a pulse of something traitorous through you, something that made you want to either punch him or grab him by the collar and—

No. Focus.

You squared your shoulders, planting your hands on your hips. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Barnes. You’re going to follow the plan. No making things up as you go along. Got it?”

His blue eyes glinted with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

Bucky grinned, slow and wicked. “Kinda looking forward to that.”

Your breath hitched. Your brain short-circuited. You opened your mouth, then shut it again, because there was absolutely nothing appropriate to say to that.

Oh. Oh, that son of a—

Bucky chuckled, clearly enjoying the way he’d just rendered you speechless. Then he leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to something low and smug.

“Face it, doll,” he murmured. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”

You scoffed, even as your stomach flipped. “I’d miss arguing with you. That’s it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The knowing look on his face made you want to smack it off. But more than that, it made you want to—

Nope. Not going there.

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel. “I’m done. Sam, let’s go before I change my mind and let him get himself killed.”

Sam snorted, giving Bucky a pointed look. “See what you did? Now you’ve pissed her off.”

Bucky only smirked, watching you walk away. “Nah,” he said, mostly to himself. “She likes it.”

—

You didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

And do you know why? Because you knew—knew—he wasn’t lying.

Bucky Barnes didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t the type to play games with words, wasn’t the type to tease just for the hell of it. If he said there was tension, if he said you’d miss him, then he meant it. He knew.

He knew before you did.

And that was the worst part.

You had no idea when your constant bickering turned into something else, something deeper, something dangerous. One day, you thought you hated him—the next, you realized you couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

It had terrified you.

So you fought.

You fought harder, argued louder, refused to let him see just how deeply he had burrowed into you. You clashed over the stupidest things—his reckless plans, his stubbornness, the way he called you doll like it was a secret between you. Because if you didn’t fight, if you let the walls slip for even a second, you weren’t sure what would happen.

And it infuriated you.

How dare he?

How dare he make himself at home in a corner of your heart you didn’t even know existed? How dare he take up permanent residence there, until that tiny space expanded into the whole damn thing?

How dare he make you want him when you were supposed to be angry at him?

How. Dare. He.

The memory took over before you could stop it…

It had been a disaster from the start.

The mission was supposed to be a simple recon—go in, get intel, get out. No unnecessary engagement. No close calls. No getting shot.

But Bucky Barnes? He didn’t believe in simple.

You were fuming as you dragged him into the safe house, your grip tight on his arm, ignoring the way his blood seeped through your gloves. He was bleeding all over the place, but of course, he still had the audacity to smirk at you.

“You’re manhandling me, doll.” His voice was rough, teasing. “If you wanted to get handsy, you could’ve just asked.”

You pushed him down onto the rickety cot in the corner, none too gently. “I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t shut up, I will make your injuries worse.”

Bucky groaned dramatically as he flopped back, far too casual for someone who had just taken a bullet to the shoulder. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—should I be nice to the guy who just got himself shot?” You tore open the med kit, grabbing a pair of scissors and snipping at the sleeve of his tactical suit.

Bucky’s smirk vanished. “Hey, whoa—this is a perfectly good jacket.”

“You’ve bled through half of it, Bucky!” You glared at him, slicing the fabric open with zero hesitation.

Bucky scowled. “Still wearable.”

“Still ruined.”

“You’re ruining it more.”

“Oh my God—do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to keep you from bleeding out you reckless, metal-armed asshole?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, because of course he did, the sound painfully casual. “Little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Your hands shook as you tore open the med kit, fingers fumbling over the supplies. “Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, doll, it’s just a—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘scratch.’”

Bucky sighed, dropping his head back onto the cot. “I’m not bleeding out.”

“You got shot, you dick,” you snapped, peeling the fabric away to get a better look at the wound. Through and through, just above his bicep. A clean hit, but it would scar if you didn’t take care of it properly.

Bucky peered at the wound like it was barely an inconvenience. “It is just a scratch.”

Your eye twitched. You gritted your teeth, pressing an antiseptic wipe to the wound with zero mercy.

Bucky hissed, body tensing as he glared at you. “Jesus—are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, now you feel pain?” You didn’t let up, pressing a little harder just for good measure. “You didn’t seem too concerned when you ran into a hail of gunfire like a rabid golden retriever with a death wish.”

Bucky scoffed. “Golden retriever?”

“You just charged in, Bucky! What part of ‘stealth mission’ do you not understand?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t!” You grabbed a fresh gauze pad, pressing it against the wound. “Sam and I were handling it just fine before you decided to be stupidly heroic.”

“Doll, you were cornered,” Bucky argued.

“No, I was waiting for backup.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look. “You were outnumbered and had a jammed weapon.”

You locked your jaw. Because okay, maybe that was true.

But he didn’t have to jump in front of a bullet for you.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound unimpressed. “I was fine.”

“You were two seconds away from getting shot.”

“I know, Bucky!” You slammed the antiseptic wipe against his skin, not caring when he hissed. “But you didn’t have to—you didn’t—you— I told you not to do it!” you cried out. “But no, you just had to go full Terminator and jump in front of a goddamn bullet for me—”

You stopped.

Because suddenly, your throat was too tight, and your breath was coming too fast, and you hated that the panic was winning, that it was spilling over.

You weren’t just mad.

You were terrified.

Bucky blinked at you, actually looking concerned now, which only pissed you off more.

“Doll—”

“You think you’re indestructible, don’t you?” You threw the used gauze aside, grabbing another one, your hands shaking as you pressed it to the wound. “Just because you have the serum, you think you can—can take all these stupid risks—”

Bucky sighed, clearly exasperated. “I heal faster than you do, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky!”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“You think the serum makes you invincible?” you seethed, eyes burning. “Is that why you keep throwing yourself into danger? Why you never hesitate before taking a hit? Why you jump in front of bullets like it’s your damn job?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but you weren’t done.

“Guess what, Barnes? The serum doesn’t make you immortal! One day, your dumbass luck is going to run out! And what then?”

Bucky stilled, blue eyes searching yours.

But you were unraveling too fast to stop now.

“I swear to God, Bucky, I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep—” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice cracking. “I can’t—I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

Something changed in Bucky’s face. The teasing, the smirking—it all vanished.

You didn’t want to see whatever was in his eyes.

You dropped your gaze, fingers moving on autopilot, taping the bandage down over his shoulder. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but you pretended not to notice.

You felt him watching you.

For the first time since the mission, Bucky was quiet.

The weight of it pressed against your chest.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat. “Just—just try not to die next time, okay?”

Bucky let out a slow breath, something almost amused slipping into his voice. “Not really my style, doll.”

You snapped your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yeah, I noticed. You’ve got a real stubborn track record of coming back from the brink of death.”

Bucky grinned, slow and lazy, like he couldn’t help himself. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

Your jaw tensed.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be the one watching you zero out your nine lives.”

The smirk disappeared.

A flicker of something serious passed through his eyes—so fast you almost missed it.

For a second, you thought he was going to say something that would change everything.

But then, as quickly as it came, he shoved it away.

He exhaled a soft chuckle instead, shaking his head. “You worry too much.”

You clenched your jaw, standing abruptly. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Bucky watched you, his expression unreadable.

You grabbed the med kit and turned away, before he could see just how badly your hands were still shaking.

Because the truth was—

You weren’t sure what scared you more.

The fact that Bucky Barnes kept coming back from the brink of death—

Or the fact that, one day, he might not.

–

You exhaled sharply, shoving the memory aside.

No. Not thinking about that.

You couldn’t.

Because if you let yourself sit with it for too long—

If you let yourself acknowledge how much he meant to you—

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to breathe through it.

Bucky must have sensed the shift in you, because as you stalked ahead, fuming, he was suddenly there—keeping pace beside you, his presence entirely too much. Too close, too solid, too him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Maybe I just ran out of things to say,” you snapped, not looking at him.

He made a low sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “That’ll be the day.”

You whirled on him before you could stop yourself, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you enjoy driving me insane, Barnes? Is it, like, a hobby for you?”

His lips twitched, that damn smirk already forming. “I mean… yeah. Kinda.”

You let out a frustrated noise, turning on your heel, ready to put as much distance between you and that insufferable smirk as possible. But before you could take two steps, his fingers curled around your wrist—gentle, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

The warmth of his skin against yours sent a jolt through you. His grip wasn’t rough, wasn’t forceful, but it was steady, intentional. And for a split second, you couldn’t breathe.

When you looked up, his blue eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable, intense.

“I’m not trying to drive you insane,” he said, his voice softer now, but laced with something heavier, something that made your chest feel tight. “I’m just trying to figure out why you won’t admit it.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering. “Admit what?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying you like he was searching for something, peeling back layers you weren’t ready to let him see. His gaze dragged over your face, lingering—too long—on your lips before flicking back up.

Your breath hitched.

He was going to say something else. You knew it. Could feel it. But whatever he saw in your expression made him change his mind at the last second. His features shifted, the quiet determination giving way to something smug, teasing. A deflection.

“That it’s a good plan.”

Your pulse stuttered.

This wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not even close.

But he was giving you an out. Letting you pretend, letting himself pretend, like this was still just another argument. Another round of your never-ending bickering instead of… whatever the hell this was becoming.

And that? That scared you more than anything.

“It’s not,” you shot back, seizing the escape he’d handed you. You took a step back, yanking your wrist free of his grasp. “It’s stupid. It’s reckless, and it’s going to get one or all of us hurt if we do it.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, his smirk faltering for the first time. His eyes darkened, something unreadable flickering in them before he asked, voice quieter, but rougher—”Why do you never take my side?”

The question hit like a sucker punch.

It knocked the breath from your lungs, left you reeling in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I—” The words caught in your throat.

He wasn’t teasing now. Wasn’t throwing out some cocky remark just to get under your skin. This was something real, something raw, and it left you woozy.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Second time I’ve got you speechless today, huh? Must be a new record.”

His voice was light, teasing again, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely.

Then, before you could recover, before you could shove something sharp and defensive between you, he turned and walked ahead—leaving you standing there, heart racing, breath unsteady.

Completely, utterly furious at him.

And even more furious at yourself.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to breathe. In. Out. Don’t let him get to you.

Except he had. He always did. And the worst part? He knew it.

You glared at the back of his head as he walked ahead like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just thrown you completely off balance and left you scrambling for solid ground.

Why do you never take my side?

You hated that the question still echoed in your head. That it stung in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

You stormed after him, your boots crunching against the pavement. “Barnes, we’re not done talking about this.”

He didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around. “Seemed pretty done to me.”

Your jaw clenched. “God, you are infuriating.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, his smirk still in place, but his eyes? His eyes were still sharp, still waiting.

You caught up to him in two quick strides, grabbing his arm to yank him to a stop. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Bucky arched a brow, glancing down at where your fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Thought you couldn’t stand being near me, doll.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the nickname. Ignored the way your traitorous hand lingered for a second before you let go.

“That plan of yours?” You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up. “It’s reckless. And you know it.”

His smirk faded, just slightly. “And what if reckless is the only option?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know that too.”

Bucky let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You think I’m some idiot who just punches his way through problems—”

“I know you are,” you shot back.

He glared at you, jaw ticking. “But maybe—just maybe—I actually know what I’m doing this time.”

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but something in his expression stopped you.

There was no smugness, no teasing. Just raw frustration, something worn down underneath.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast, the words dying on your tongue.

“Right,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “Should’ve known better than to expect you to trust me.”

The words weren’t loud. He wasn’t even looking at you when he said them. But they landed like a slap.

Your breath caught. “That’s not—”

“Forget it.”

—

Shockingly, Bucky had followed Sam’s plan.

And—even more shockingly—it had gone wrong.

In the end, brute force had been the only way to get all three of you out alive.

You weren’t sure when the dust had settled, when the ringing in your ears had finally faded enough for you to hear your own breathing again. But when your vision cleared, Bucky was still standing.

Standing over a pile of bodies, bloodied and exhausted, his chest heaving with exertion.

There was a split in his lip, a gash across his forehead, and a bullet graze along his ribs, the fabric of his tactical suit dark with blood.

And you hated it.

You hated how your stomach twisted at the sight of him hurt. Hated the way your fingers curled into fists at your sides to stop yourself from running to him, from touching him, from grabbing his face and checking.

Most of all, you hated that you had doubted him.

Bucky Barnes had a century of combat experience. He had spent his entire life surviving fights he shouldn’t have walked away from, and still, you had dismissed him. Still, you had refused to listen.

And now? Now all of you were bleeding. All of you were shaken.

But the worst part—the part that made your throat tighten and your breath shudder—was that Bucky wasn’t even gloating.

No smirk. No I told you so.

Just silence. Just his sharp, assessing gaze, scanning the aftermath like he was still bracing for another fight.

By the time Torres had you all back on the plane, you were shaking.

The adrenaline should have worn off by now, but the weight in your chest only grew heavier. You knew—you knew—Bucky would heal faster than you or Sam. Logically, you understood that.

But logic wasn’t stopping the tightness in your throat when your eyes landed on the bruising around his temple.

It wasn’t stopping the way your fingers trembled as you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down in front of him, against every warning screaming in your head.

Bucky exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the seat. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” you shot back, voice sharper than intended.

“So are you.”

You ignored that. “Just—hold still.”

For once, he didn’t argue. But when you reached for him, when your fingers ghosted over his skin, his gaze flickered—just for a second—to your hands.

He noticed.

Noticed the tremor in your fingers, the way they weren’t steady.

His brows drew together, just slightly. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his stare, felt the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Your breath hitched. You curled your fingers tighter around the antiseptic wipe, focusing too hard on dabbing at the cut on his forehead.

When he flinched, you huffed. “Big bad super soldier can take on twenty guys at once but can’t handle a little stinging?”

His lips twitched, but the teasing was half-hearted. “Not my fault you’re rough.”

You shot him a look. “I wonder why.”

His jaw flexed. “You do like making things difficult.”

“Oh, I make things difficult?” You shook your head, pressing a little too firmly as you cleaned the wound. “I don’t remember me running in headfirst with zero regard for a plan.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right, because your plan went so well.”

You froze, fingers stilling against his skin.

His voice hadn’t been sharp, but the words still landed heavy in your chest.

“You didn’t have to follow it,” you murmured.

Bucky let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Well. I did.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted.

You forced yourself to move again, forced yourself to focus on the cut rather than the way his eyes lingered.

Your throat was dry when you spoke. “You were right.”

His expression didn’t change, but you felt the shift in the air.

“We should have done it your way,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s fingers curled over the edge of the seat. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but you knew he was watching you.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice quiet. “Didn’t do us much good, did it?”

You pressed your lips together. “Would’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in.”

His eyes flickered. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy for it.

“You don’t have to say that,” he murmured.

“I do.” Your voice wavered, but you swallowed hard, pushing through it. “Because I was wrong.”

Bucky was still. Unreadable.

Then, after a beat, his voice dropped lower. “That an apology?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real fire behind it. “Don’t push your luck, Barnes.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

But his eyes? His eyes told a different story.

—

The hum of the jet was steady beneath you, the vibrations deep in your bones, but it did nothing to ground you. The cabin lights were low, throwing long shadows across the metal walls. Sam was already passed out in the back, his breathing even, the tension from the mission finally easing from his shoulders.

You should be doing the same. You should be closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over, shutting out the memory of the chaos you’d just escaped from.

But you couldn’t.

Because Bucky was still watching you.

He sat across from you, silent and unreadable, his blue eyes darker in the dim light. He hadn’t spoken since you finished patching him up, but he hadn’t stopped looking, either.

It wasn’t his usual sharp-edged irritation or teasing smirk. No playful bickering, no cocky remarks about how he’d been right. Just this.

Something softer. Something heavier.

Something you weren’t ready for.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.

You shook your head, fingers curling into your palms. “I’m fine.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, like he didn’t believe you. “Yeah? You don’t look fine.”

You hated that he could see it. The tremor in your fingers, the tension in your shoulders, the way you were still breathing too fast, like your body hadn’t realized the fight was over.

You hated that he noticed. That he cared enough to notice.

And then—because you were tired, because you were furious, because he had almost died and you were still trying to claw your way back from the sheer panic of it—you snapped.

“You could have died, Bucky.” Your voice was sharper than you meant, thick with something you didn’t want to name.

His brow twitched, but his expression didn’t change. His voice stayed infuriatingly even. “Yeah. That’s kinda what happens when people shoot at you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing out there?”

“That’s not—” You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

The question hung between you, thick with unspoken things.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched you—his gaze steady, patient, like he was giving you the space to say it.

And God, you wanted to.

But the words sat like stones in your throat, impossible to force out. You clenched your jaw, tried to shove them back down, but they wouldn’t go away.

Because the truth was, you weren’t just shaken by the mission.

You were shaken by the way seeing him bleeding had made your stomach drop, by the way his pained groans had made your hands shake, by the way you had wanted—needed—to run to him, to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

You were terrified.

Because this wasn’t just anger or frustration or a heated argument in the middle of a mission.

This was Bucky.

And you couldn’t lose him.

So instead of answering, instead of trying to put words to the panic still rattling inside you, you did the only thing you could do.

You reached for him.

It wasn’t sharp or defiant, wasn’t out of frustration or anger.

You just—needed to touch him.

Your fingers brushed over his wrist, barely there, hesitant. A point of contact. Something to anchor you.

Bucky stilled.

For a second, he just stared at your hand, at the way your fingers curled against his skin like you weren’t even sure if you had permission to hold on.

Then, slowly, he turned his wrist under your palm, letting your fingers slide over his pulse point. His skin was warm, his pulse steady. Alive. Here.

Your throat went tight.

Bucky’s voice was quieter this time. Rougher. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed hard, but you didn’t let go.

Your thumb ghosted over his pulse, barely a whisper of touch, but it still wasn’t enough.

You didn’t know what you needed, what you were searching for beneath your fingertips, but the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat wasn’t easing the raw ache in your chest.

Your eyes flickered around the cabin.

Sam was still dead to the world, Torres nowhere in sight. The only two people awake on this jet were you and Bucky.

Something inside you snapped.

One second, you were gripping his wrist, tethering yourself to him like that alone would make this feeling go away. The next, you were moving before you could stop yourself—sliding out of your seat, crawling into his lap, wrapping yourself around him like holding on tighter would somehow keep him safe, keep him yours.

Bucky made a sound—something low, something confused—but his hands came up anyway, large and warm and steady as they settled on your hips, instinctive.

His breath hitched, and you felt it against your temple, the subtle shudder of his inhale.

You buried yourself closer, curling into his chest, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of his neck. His scent was everywhere—gunpowder and metal and something distinctly him—and you could have drowned in it.

“If you ever tell anyone I did this,” you muttered, voice muffled against his neck, “I will find ways to kill you.”

There was no bite to it. No real threat.

Just you—raw and exposed in a way you didn’t know how to take back.

Bucky let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t shove you off like he should have.

Instead, his arms shifted, wrapping around you fully, pressing you into him like this was what he had been waiting for, like this was something he had been needing just as badly.

Like he wanted to.

His metal fingers flexed at your waist, pressing against the fabric of your suit, a steadying grip. His other hand flattened against your back, tracing over the curve of your spine as if he was committing the shape of you to memory.

His touch burned.

His warmth was everywhere.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers sliding from his hair to his cheek, brushing over the stubble there, the still-healing cut on his temple. And then—before you could stop yourself—you were tilting his face toward yours.

For the first time since the mission, since the gunfire, since you watched the blood dripping down his temple and felt your entire world tilt on its axis—you met his eyes head-on.

Bucky swallowed.

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips.

It was enough.

Your resolve snapped like a frayed wire.

And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could remind yourself that this was Bucky, before you could convince yourself that you didn’t love him like this—

You kissed him.

It was desperate, messy—nothing like the slow, sweet build-up you had imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

Your lips crashed against his, your hands fisting in his suit, pulling yourself closer, closer, closer, needing more, needing everything.

Bucky froze.

Didn’t move when your lips parted against his, when your tongue flicked against his bottom lip, when your teeth caught the cut there, tasting blood.

Didn’t react when you kissed him again, soft and searching, when your nose brushed against his, when you sighed against his mouth, the sound fragile and aching.

Didn’t kiss you back.

The realization hit slow, creeping in at the edges of your desperation, sinking its claws into your chest.

He wasn’t—

Oh, God.

The sting of rejection burned hotter than the wounds littering your body.

You tried to breathe, tried to steady yourself, but your lungs felt too tight, your hands shaking as you forced yourself to pull back, to put distance between you before you shattered entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a shaky breath washing over his lips. Your throat was tight, your vision blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Your voice broke.

Bucky was still silent.

And that was somehow worse.

It took a second to register the weight of what you’d done, to catch up to you.

You had kissed him.

You had kissed him and he hadn’t—

Your stomach plummeted.

“I’m—” Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your ribs. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

You tried to untangle yourself, tried to scramble out of his lap, to preserve whatever dignity you had left, to put distance between you before you completely fell apart in front of him—

But then—

God.

Then his hands tightened on your hips.

Hard.

Before you could even get further, Bucky dragged you back against him, fingers digging into your skin, like he wasn’t about to let you go. He maneuvered you until your legs were astride his hips, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed to his.

Your breath stilled, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs.

His expression had changed.

The shock, the hesitation—it was gone.

In its place was something darker.

Something heated and unrelenting.

Something like want.

Bucky’s breathing was uneven, his lips parted, his pupils blown wide as his gaze flickered between your eyes, your mouth, back up.

Then—

Then his fingers traced up your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His metal hand trailed over your ribs, up your arm, curling at the back of your neck, tipping your face toward his.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice wrecked and low. “Can you do that again?”

Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You swallowed, your pulse hammering against his fingertips. “You didn’t—”

“I froze,” he cut in, jaw tight. “I won’t now.”

Oh.

Your lips parted, heart stumbling over itself.

Bucky let out a breath, something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your hips flexed, strong and sure, and for a split second, all he did was look at you.

Like you were something he didn’t know how to handle.

Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour you or worship you.

Then—slower this time, more sure—he leaned in.

And kissed you.

You had been right.

Bucky Barnes would be your undoing.

He’d kill you with the way he kissed, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to ruin you, like he wanted to take you apart with nothing but the sweep of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

You felt it—every glide of his tongue against yours, every careful press of his lips, every sharp inhale between kisses—like a spark lighting up your spine, sinking deep, settling between your legs with a heat so intense you could barely breathe through it.

You shook on top of him, the way he touched you sending shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body. His hands were everywhere—tight, possessive squeezes against your hips, reverent drags of his fingers down your back and thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

A whimper escaped you, completely unbidden, and Bucky groaned, a deep, wrecked sound that vibrated against your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his lips left yours.

You gasped at the loss—until you felt him move.

Felt the warm brush of his breath against your throat, felt his nose skim along the sensitive skin there before his mouth followed.

“Bucky—” His name left you in a sharp breath as he kissed down your neck, slow, teasing, his lips dragging over every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

The problem was—there wasn’t enough.

Your suit covered too much, kept him from truly touching you, and it was driving you out of your mind.

You arched into him, restless, desperate. “Take it off,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Bucky stilled, his lips pausing against your collarbone.

His hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. Didn’t continue.

“Take it off,” you begged, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit, tracing over the zippers, tugging uselessly at the buttons, trying to feel more. “Please, take it off.”

His breath was uneven, ragged. “Doll, there are people—”

“I don’t care.” You tugged at his collar, leaning in, pressing another desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “They won’t see.”

Bucky’s hands flexed against your waist, like he was warring with himself.

You kissed him again, lips parting over his, trying to convince him, trying to make him understand, to feel just how badly you needed this, needed him.

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing to yours, his chest rising and falling unevenly beneath you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Please, before you change your mind—I need this. I need you.”

That did it.

Something snapped in him.

The hesitation vanished.

And then, suddenly, you were weightless.

Before you could even process what was happening, Bucky was standing, lifting you effortlessly, your legs tightening around his waist as he carried you toward the back of the jet, moving with a singular, determined focus that made your breath catch.

Your back hit the cool metal wall of the jet, the impact sending a shiver down your spine, but you barely had time to react before Bucky was kissing you again—hot, rough, devouring.

You gasped against his lips, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life.

His hands roamed down your back, over your thighs, squeezing, gripping—and then, finally, finally, he found the zipper of your suit.

“I’m not changing my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick, edged with something raw that made you shiver. His fingers curled around the fabric, tugging just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. “And you’re not changing yours.”

You nodded without thinking, without hesitation, without fear.

There was a faint awareness of the reality around you—the steady hum of the jet beneath you, the wall of gear shielding you from the others, the knowledge that Sam and Torres were mere feet away. The fact that you were both bloodied and bruised from the mission, that maybe this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place.

But then Bucky moved, and all of that faded.

The zipper came down in a slow, deliberate slide, the rasp of it against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His hands worked quickly, efficiently, but gentle, pushing the suit down your arms until you could shake it off completely. The moment it was gone, he pulled your arms around his shoulders, guiding them to hold onto him, like he needed you to keep him close.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost reverent, before dropping to his knees.

Your breath caught, your pulse hammering as his hands gripped your hips, firm and unshakable, guiding the rest of your suit down your legs. His head dipped, his lips grazing the fresh bruise blooming along your hip. He kissed it once, then again—soft, lingering. Worshipping.

You swallowed hard, your fingers threading into his hair as he nuzzled along your thigh, your knee, before rising back to his full height.

“Not getting these off,” he muttered, his fingers ghosting over your soaked panties. You’d be ashamed if it weren’t for the way his lips parted, like he was desperate to get back on his knees, get his mouth on you, There was also something else. The look on his face - regret, you thought - like he wanted to take his time with you, but was disappointed he couldn’t.

His hands moved up your body, skimming over your waist, tracing along your ribs. You shivered at the sensation of warm and cold, flesh and metal. His eyes darkened at the sight of you trembling under his touch.

“We have to be quick.”

You nodded, obedient, but there was something clawing at your chest, something making your breath catch, making your hands shake as you reached for his belt, undoing it with frantic fingers.

“This—” You took a breath, sliding the zipper down, pushing his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You ached at the sight of him. Ached to drop to your knees and taste him.

Instead, you swallowed hard and met his eyes. “This isn’t how I imagined doing this with you.”

Bucky let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “Me either.” His voice was rough, wrecked, breaking apart at the seams. His lips brushed your ear as he groaned, deep and ragged, when you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slow, teasing. “Fuck, sweetheart—”

A shudder rolled through him, his forehead pressing to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, voice thick with something dangerous, something devoted. “I promise.”

His arms wrapped around you again, lifting you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your hips rolling forward to grind against him.

“Bucky—”

“You want this?” he asked, pressing you back against the cool metal wall, the contrast making you gasp. His mouth was everywhere—dragging down your jaw, across the swell of your breast, open-mouthed and hungry.

“I do. I—”

The words faltered on your tongue.

Your heart was hammering, your chest was aching. This was reckless. This was insane.

This was everything.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing his with every ragged breath. “I want you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “All of you.” Your fingers twisted into his hair, tugging just enough for him to feel it. “Please.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “You have me.”

His words were iron, unbreakable, true.

Something cracked inside you.

And then—there was no more hesitation.

His lips crashed into yours again, raw and consuming, leaving no space between you, no air, no room for anything but him. His free hand slid down, tugging at your panties, dragging them to the side. Your own hand moved between you, wrapping around his cock, guiding him to where you needed him.

“Jesus, doll—”

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

It was one full thrust, his cock pressing inside you inch by inch, filling you completely, stretching you to the edge of pain. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your head falling back against the wall as a gasp tore from your throat.

You felt full. Too full.

Your legs shook around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, the overwhelming stretch making your eyes slam shut, your mouth parting on a silent moan.

Bucky groaned, deep and wrecked, his forehead pressing to your temple. His body was shaking too, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps against your skin.

“Fuck,” he ground out, metal hand locking around your thigh, keeping you open for him. His other hand tangled in your hair, his grip tight, desperate. “Fuck, you feel—Jesus, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, your arms trembling as you clung to him. “I can’t believe you’re inside me,” you whispered, voice barely there, overwhelmed and ruined. “Oh my god, Bucky—”

He snapped his hips forward, and your world split apart.

The pleasure was sharp, blinding, a lightning strike surging through your veins. Your body clenched around him, gripping him so tight he groaned against your neck, his rhythm faltering for a beat. His hands tightened on your hips, metal and flesh both possessive, both desperate to hold on.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he choked out, voice strangled, roughened with something close to reverence. He thrust deep, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, every sensitive place that made your stomach coil so tight you thought you might shatter.

“For you,” you confessed, arching into him, letting him feel it, letting him know. “All the time. Every time you look at me—”

Bucky snapped his hips forward, harder, deeper, tearing a cry from your lips.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice breaking, cracking at the edges. “Shit, shit—”

“You’re so deep,” you gasped, barely able to breathe. Your nails raked down his back, desperate, pleading, needing. “Bucky, I—I can’t—”

“I’ve got you, doll,” he groaned, pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing every sound you made as he ruined you completely.

Every thrust was a curse, every breath a kiss, and you were careening toward the edge so fast it was dizzying.

The pleasure ripped through you before you could warn him, before you could even process it. Your walls tightened, pulsing around his cock, body shaking so violently that he had to pin you to the wall with his hips, burying himself to the hilt, his hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you as you contorted in his grasp.

His mouth devoured your cries, catching every broken, pleading gasp as the orgasm tore you apart. It was an explosion that didn’t stop, that kept rolling through you, wave after wave.

You rocked against him, desperate for more, still chasing, still needing, barely hearing the way he rasped your name, telling you to slow down, telling you to look at him, warning you that he was—

“God, you’re heaven,” Bucky breathed against your ear, grinding deep inside of you, his voice wrecked, every syllable tinged with something broken, something beautiful. As you slowly came down, you could feel how close he was, how tightly he was holding on, trying to keep himself from falling over the edge. “I can feel you—fuck me, I should pull out.”

“No.”

It came out fast, urgent, a whisper laced with something dangerous. Your legs locked around his hips, keeping him trapped in your hold.

His entire body went rigid. His breathing stilled.

“Baby.”

Bucky’s voice was low, frayed at the edges, filled with disbelief. The word hung in the air between you, unspoken until now.

You froze.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t have given that away. Shouldn’t have let it slip, shouldn’t have handed him something so fragile, something you couldn’t take back.

But what was a drop to someone who was already drowning?

Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. If he wanted to, he could have pulled you off of him without lifting a finger. You had always been painfully aware of how much stronger he was, how easily he could overpower you.

And yet, he stayed still, locked in your hold. Completely at your mercy.

You swallowed, your fingers shaking as they curled into his hair, pulling him closer, refusing to let him run.

“C’mon, doll,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours, stealing a kiss that felt like it was more for him than for you. “Let go.”

His hips rolled, his pelvis grinding against your clit, making you whimper. Your body was still trembling, still oversensitive, but fuck, if he kept going just a little longer—

“I want you to cum inside me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, your nails digging into his skin.

Bucky froze.

The words echoed between you like a shot fired into the silence.

His hips stilled. His breath hitched. His hands trembled where they held you.

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out, from begging him to move.

“Doll,” he rasped, warning in his tone, his forehead pressed to yours. He looked wrecked, as undone as you felt.

“Stop arguing with me,” you shot back, voice shaky, grinding against him, dragging your soaked, sensitive heat over him, pulling a moan from his throat so deep it made every hair on your body stand on end.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his grip on you bruising.

“I want this.” You tightened your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer, wrapping him in you, cocooning you both in the moment. “I’m begging you, Bucky. Please.”

“It’s—” He swallowed thickly, voice strangled.

“Irresponsible, yes, but what’s a little irresponsibility?” A breathless laugh escaped you, but your voice broke at the end, too raw to keep up the teasing. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m on the pill.”

His jaw clenched.

“I need this,” you whispered, the truth clawing up your throat before you could stop it. “I need you.” Your voice cracked, your breath hitched, emotion swelling too fast, too much. “You don’t get it, I—”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he softened.

Something in his eyes clicked, something changed, and suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you tighter, his hands cradling your face like you were precious, like you were fragile, like he had to hold you together before you broke apart completely.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

And then he moved.

His thrusts were slower, deeper, his lips brushing yours between each movement. His hands wandered, soothing, worshipping.

“Giving you exactly what you want, yeah?”

You nodded frantically, breath labored, losing yourself in the way he felt, the way he surrounded you, consumed you.

“Don’t pull out,” you begged, voice barely there, a whisper of devotion, of desperation.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, forehead pressed to yours. “I won’t, baby,” he promised, voice breaking. His pace picked up, hips rolling against yours, pushing deeper, harder, dragging against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you whimpering. “Gonna fill you up like you wanted.”

Your toes curled at the words, at the image, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips, needing, aching.

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back as his rhythm faltered, as he snapped his hips harder, chasing the end, giving you what you wanted, giving you everything.

“Fill me up, baby,” you pleaded, your voice a broken, desperate thing. “Make me yours..”

And that—

That was what finally broke him.

Bucky snapped.

A curse tore from his throat, his grip on you bruising, unrelenting as his hips slammed into you, chasing the inevitable, giving you everything. His rhythm turned frantic, needy, his body demanding what you had just offered.

And you took it.

You craved it.

Your body tightened around him, coaxing him deeper, begging for more. Every thrust was an answer to a question neither of you had spoken aloud, a declaration in the language of skin and breath and longing.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath hot against your mouth. His hand slid down between you, his metal fingers finding your clit and pressing, rubbing tight circles, dragging you back to the edge with him.

Your body shook, every muscle tensed, the pleasure sharpening into something unbearable, something deadly.

“Bucky—”

“I know, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges, his own body trembling as he held himself back, as he waited for you. “Give it to me.”

You did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs, blinding in its intensity. Your body locked around him, your hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as the pleasure ripped through you in violent, unrelenting waves.

And that was it. That was everything.

Bucky followed, slamming into you one last time before breaking, burying himself as deep as he could go, a shuddering groan torn from his chest as he spilled into you, filling you like he promised. You felt it as his warm cum Costas your walls, so much of it you weren’t sure there wasn’t some spilling out.

His body trembled, his arms locked tight around you, holding you close as he gave in, as he let go, as he let himself have this.

For a moment, there was silence.

Just the sound of your breathing, labored and uneven. The quiet, lingering shock of what you had just done.

Bucky’s forehead pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his suit.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved.

You stayed like that—wrapped around him, his cock still twitching inside of you, his arms cradling you like you might disappear if he let go.

You let your eyes drift shut, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the back of his neck, the weight of him comforting, grounding, even as reality started creeping back in.

You should let go.

You should move.

You should say something.

But when Bucky finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to frame your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones—

The words died on your lips.

Because he was looking at you like you had just ruined him. Like you had just changed something fundamental inside of him.

Like you had just made him yours.

And you had.

Slowly,, Bucky eased his grip, his arms still wrapped around you, his hands still mapping the shape of you, like he needed to memorize every curve, every ridge, every place he’d touched.

His lips brushed your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw—soft, tender kisses that made your heart clench, made something deep inside you ache.

It felt too big.

Too much.

But you couldn’t stop touching him.

Your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, the stubble rough beneath your touch. You pushed damp hair out of his face, ran your knuckles down the slope of his nose, his cheekbone, memorizing him the way he was memorizing you.

A hand slid up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheek, his expression unreadable.

When he finally spoke, his eyes were soft, but serious.

“You meant it,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, lips parting, breath hitching.

“Bucky—”

His other hand was still pressed to your lower stomach, like he could feel himself inside you, like he could brand this moment into your skin.

“I felt it,” he whispered, almost to himself. “The way you—” He exhaled sharply, like the words were too heavy to get out.

You closed your eyes, trying to give yourself some kind of reprieve from the enormity of it all.

“Don’t run from this.” His voice was so calm, but it cut through you like a knife. “Please, doll.”

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was the aftershocks of pleasure or the overwhelming emotion of it all, but your body was still trembling—and Bucky felt every bit of it.

His arms tightened around you, securing you to him, anchoring you.

“I’m not running,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to search your face, like he didn’t quite believe you.

And maybe you didn’t quite believe yourself.

Because what came next?

What happened after this?

There was you before Bucky Barnes.

There was you after Bucky Barnes.

And they weren’t the same.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan

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readwritealldayallnight · 2 days ago

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It’s been months since Simon has been home

All he wants is to see you, his sweet girl, so much so that he loses track of what the actual date on the calendar is, in favour of counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you’re in his arms again

That’s why Simon’s surprise when he walks in to the local shops is genuine, before quickly turning into annoyance, when he notices that almost all the shelves are stocked with things for Valentine’s Day

Bright red, pink, and purple gifts covered in glitter and sparkles, sequins and jewels, all of them screaming out one word, over and over and over again for shoppers to see

Love

It’s a word Simon tries not to think about too often, in spite of it being part of his daily vocabulary

Yes, while your hunk of a man’s favourite pet name for you has always been love, it’s a word he has yet to say to you outside of being anything more than a name, a word he has yet to say he feels for you, even though his heart spells it out with ease each time he is with you

It’s hard for him because he can remember exactly the last time he told someone that three word sentence

Christmas Eve, a lifetime ago, he’d just gotten off the phone with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, hearing the young boy shout out into the receiver that he loved his uncle Si, a light hearted chuckle slipping past the Lieutenants lips before he’d replied back without issue that he loved him too, before he hung up and never heard his family’s voices ever again

He wants to say it to you because it’s true

He does love you more than anything, but he just can’t bring himself to say it

Those memories have become so tangled up in trauma, his mind associating darker times with those three goddamn words, the ones he knows would mean so much for you to hear he just can’t bring himself to speak aloud

He has dreams where he forces himself to say it, where he tells you a thousand times over that he loves you, whispers it in your ear, shouts it from the rooftops, writes it down everywhere for you to see and even etches it into his flesh with a needle and ink, until the dreams become nightmares and he’s yelling those words at your bloody corpse, writing it in the snow dusting your tombstone, waking up in a cold sweat, dreading the day you say those three words to him and he can’t explain why he can’t say them back

And while he can’t yet explain to you all of the demons that continue to call his skull their home, he finds himself not needing to, not with you

With you, there is no pressure to say things that cause him more pain than joy, there is no need to explain things that he struggles to fully comprehend himself, there is no need to perform or act in any way that isn’t true to him, not with you, his sweet girl who somehow understands him more than he feels he understands himself most days

Instead, with you, he gets to say things that are his own version of I love you, no matter how grand or small:

“I see you”

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had”

“I can’t believe I get to call you mine”

“You make me so happy”

“Let me carry that for you”

“Put your seatbelt on”

“I made dinner”

“I’ll do the dishes, you go sit”

When the 14th of February eventually rolls around, you aren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, never having acknowledged the upcoming gimmick of a holiday with Simon

Which is why you’re so surprised when you wake up to find the spot next to you in bed empty, noises in the kitchen letting you know Simon hasn’t gone far

Bare feet slowly padding towards the sounds of a grand breakfast being prepared with much frustration from a seasoned soldier who struggles to use seasoning, you can’t help the overwhelming grin that takes over you face when you see nothing more than a simple card standing up on the dining table, no bells or whistles, no flower petals thrown all over the flat, no orchestra serenading you awake, just you and Simon, all you need, all you want

Reading the card stretches your smile further than you thought possible, quickly sneaking up on your love to wrap your arms around him from behind, his own matching smile etched upon his face as he scrambles up the eggs, imagining you enjoyed the card, which reads in his scratchy handwriting:

“ I ♥️ you ”

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #readwritealldayallnight #ghost x you #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fanfic #cod simon riley #simon fluff #simon ghost riley x you

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lilianne-tarot · 3 days ago

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PICK A CARD: Your Future Spouse’s First Impression of You? ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

Hey there! Welcome to my first pick-a-card reading on this blog page—I hope you all enjoy it! If I make any mistakes, please bear with me. Comment down what you felt about the reading and if it resonated with you and show some love, Your support means everything to me!<3

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

⊹₊⟡Pile I

First Things First: The Vibes Are Mysterious AF. Your future spouse’s first impression of you-Intriguing. Confusing. Obsessive. You are not someone they can just glance at and move on. this spread is screaming mystery, but not in a “cold and distant” way—it’s more like "Who ARE they? Why do I want to know everything about them?" There’s something about you that feels just out of reach, like you’re showing them a version of yourself, but they can sense there’s way more underneath. And that? That’s addictive. It’s the kind where they need to figure you out. They want to know what makes you tick, what you’re thinking when you glance away mid-conversation, and what you’re dreaming about at night. And it’s not in a shallow, superficial way—this person is genuinely captivated. But here’s where it gets interesting— because while The Moon makes them curious about you, the Eight of Pentacles makes them respect you. They see someone who’s dedicated, who works their ass off at whatever they care about. Whether it’s your career, hobbies, or just the way you present yourself—you give off this “I put in the effort” type of energy. Like, they can tell you’re serious about your stuff and that immediately makes you stand out. That alone makes them take you seriously. Okay, But Here’s the Gag—They Lowkey Feel a Bit…Uncertain? Now, listen—The Moon is also about illusions and uncertainty, so while they are intrigued, they might feel like they don’t fully “get” you at first. And that? That’s messing with them. They’re probably used to reading people easily, but you? You’re hard to pin down, and they love it…but also hate it?? It’s like, are they flirting with me or just being nice? Are they interested, or am I making this up? The Two of Wands here tells me that they immediately start thinking about possibilities with you—but they hesitate. Not because they’re uninterested, but because they’re trying to figure out where they stand. They respect you and your dedication, seeing you as someone with substance. They feel pulled toward you but also slightly intimidated or uncertain because you’re not easy to read (Love that for you😂). And darling, let’s be real—when someone is this intrigued by you from the jump, That’s a recipe for obsession. You might notice them observing you before making a move, trying to decode you.

This pile has the most unpredictable energy among the three. Your future spouse is unsure where they stand at first but feels a pull towards you. LOL, they might initially think “Whoa, Do they even notice me?” They might even romanticize you in their mind before truly knowing you (CUTE ngl) because your energy leaves so much to the imagination.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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⊹₊⟡Pile II

Ooooh, okay, let’s get into it. Babe, your future spouse’s first impression of you is giving emotional enigma meets graceful chaos, and I’m obsessed with how this energy is playing out. The moment they lay eyes on you, there’s an instant curiosity. You come across as graceful, emotionally intelligent, and balanced, but here’s the kicker—they know there’s more going on beneath the surface. Like, they can tell that you keep your cool externally, but they sense this quiet storm of emotions underneath. It’s intriguing to them because it’s like, "damn, how do they juggle everything?" when you meet them, or they just get the sense that you’ve got a lot going on but still show up with poise. It’s giving “this person could be drowning in responsibilities but would still remember to send their bestie a ‘drink water,’ text.” 😭There’s this duality to you that catches their attention. You seem emotionally available but also like you’re carrying something—like you’re transitioning into a new chapter, leaving something behind and they feel that energy before you even say a word. They immediately respect you but they also feel this lowkey urge to protect you, Because on one hand, you’re exuding this soft, nurturing energy but on the other hand, they can tell you’re used to handling your own business and might not even need them like that. And WHEW—does that intimidate them a little? Yes. yall pile 2 give me the energy of a particular line I heard on TikTok, which was something like "lead me when I want to be lead"😂So when they meet you, your future spouse immediately clocks that you’re in transition—maybe you’ve recently moved, changed jobs, ended a relationship, or you’re just shifting into a new phase in life. But here’s the real tea—they don’t just find you attractive, they find you mentally stimulating. Like, you’re not just another pretty face; you make them think. Your vibe is that of someone who has been through some shit but has learned and grown from it, and they immediately wonder, What’s their story? What shaped them into this person? And suddenly, they’re invested. “Holy shit, I need to know more.” You make them think—they don’t just want to know you, they want to understand you.

SO OVERALL This pile is soothing and warm, but also very self-aware and mature. Your future spouse feels safe and understood with you, like you’re someone they could see themselves building a peaceful life with. This is wayyyyyyy less confusion here compared to Deck 1; they pretty much immediately know you’re a rare find.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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⊹₊⟡Pile III

Your future spouse’s first impression of you? WHEW, they’re looking at you like you’re a whole standard—not just “crush-worthy,” but someone they gotta step their game up for. Their First Thought? “Damn, they’re sharp.” Like, no joke, the moment they meet you, they immediately pick up on your sharp mind and no-BS attitude. You give off this queen-level aura that’s like, “I see through people. Don’t play games with me". 💅. love it—but also have no idea how to approach you at first because you don’t seem like the type who’s easily impressed. Your whole energy screams “I’ve got my shit together.” And babe, they feel that. They’re looking at you like, “Okay, so this person is intelligent, confident, and carries themselves like they own the room—how do I not embarrass myself in front of them?” But it’s not just about confidence—you also have this elegance about you. You’re not loud or flashy; you’re just refined, polished, and unbothered in a way that makes people want to impress you. LOL also one thing, you make them feel like, "“Are they always this serious? Or do they have a goofy side?” You walk in, and it’s giving the main character energy without even trying. Here’s where it gets really interesting. Because at first, they see you as this composed, independent person who doesn’t need anybody. But then, there’s this subtle warmth about you that catches them off guard. I can feel that you’re someone who values fairness, generosity, and kindness—but only for the right people. You’re not out here wasting time. You know your worth, but when you do let people in? You’re the type to genuinely care, support, and uplift those around you. And that contrast? Whew. It messes them up in the best way. It’s like, “Wait… they’re not just powerful and intimidating… they’re actually thoughtful and kind, too? What kind of dream person did I just meet???” Your future spouse is immediately caught up in their head about you. Their first impression of you isn’t just “oh, they’re cute.” It’s deep admiration mixed with a little bit of panic.

Honestly, This is the type of first impression that lingers. They’re not just walking away thinking “Wow, that was a cool person.” No, no. They’re going home, replaying the conversation, trying to figure out how to impress you next time, and probably texting their best friend like, “I think I just met the most unreal person ever.”

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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#tarotblr #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #tarot pick a card #future #boyfriend #loa #tarot reading #pac #pick an image #pick a pile #spirituality #divination #spiritualgrowth #free readings #astrology #shufflemancy #pap

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sheepispink · 1 day ago

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lt simon riley x hybrid!reader in which you're forced into his life and he cant handle it, ignoring your existence until you talk to inanimate objects to make up for it. angst ofc

sorry if this is lowkey bad, my writing has been flopping rn (inspired by a mdni’s work summary, i have removed the link because i am unsure as to how to address this properly.)

edit: i am aware that the og had more than a few similarities to the op who i credited’s work. I have responded here

The news of a hybrid being assigned to him was the worst possible, maybe even comparable to the time he had to wear full gear in the middle east. There was just something about it he didnt like, not that he wanted to stereotype their kind but some could be so clingy, so needy and to think he’s have that, following him around? . But what he hates more is the way you’re sitting outside his flat door when he hears the knock, wide eyes trying to entice him to your outstretched hand. Though unfortunately for you, he just closes the door again.

For the first week, you tried over and over again. He didn't seem to want to talk to you at all, let alone acknowledge that you were in his house. The only instructions he ever spoke was to not leave the house nor damage anything inside the house. It wasn't like you’d attempt to test either rules on purpose anyway. Instead, you tried to be useful by cleaning up where you could, even if you couldn't help but get distracted by how fun sliding across the freshly mopped floors were. Plus, blanket forts were so fun to make, what do you mean they made more mess? You switched to cooking soon after, attempting to make him breakfast except every time you tried to wake up early, he was always already gone. So, you wake up extra, extra early, finding out he wakes at five and so you wake up at four the next day. You decide on sizzled meat rashers, a fried egg and a toaster waffle because you don't really understand how the oven works. It’s not your fault his has so many funny buttons.

Unfortunately for you, his hearing is almost as good as yours, or perhaps he just never sleeps properly. That’s why he walked in just when you were nodding off in a bowl of cracked eggs, the time too early for a young one like you, even if you were well into your twenties. He left the house with a slam that day.

After that you stopped trying, noticing it to be clearly obvious that he didn't want anything to do with you in the slightest. He didn't even glance at you, or ask if you wanted to eat anymore. The only reminder that you actually lived here were the remnants of your fur on the fluffy pillow that was your bed, and your name written on your pre-bought meals since he didn't trust you in his kitchen anymore. Questions were left to hang in the air, soft whines echoing around the empty room each night and only the dim TV for company.

Ghost had returned early today, a problem in base had left the place in slight disarray and the task force thought it’d be better if they just packed up for the day, maybe do paperwork at home instead. He clicks open the door, surprised to actually hear noise in the usually silent flat, though he’s already dreading whatever mess you’ve cooked up. As he enters the hallway, the noise becomes clearer, sounding like a voice, your voice, actually. “This is a super secret covert meeting, alright everyone? No one can know!” You squeak, and he’s raising a brow, mind already jumping to conclusions of you being a double agent sent to spy on him. He should’ve known they’d pull a dirty trick like that, especially with how Graves has been acting, there’s bound to be others to follow. But to infiltrate his own home is something that brings him great anger, making him all the more silent when he sneaks around the house, mind running through potential ways he’ll interrogate the information out of you.

A double agent was far too much credit for you though. You were just a silly animal who was sitting on the sofa opposite a tatty teddy bear, a pillow with a messily drawn paper face stuck to it and a t-shirt that you had draped over a pillow, the cartoon cat staring back at you. They have mugs in front of them, albeit not full of anything apart from your own mug of tea. “Just kidding, let’s order then we can start.”

You hum, pretending to take a list from the bear though it’s actually those takeaway menus that come through the letterbox. He watches carefully as you pick up one at random, eyes squinting as you attempt and almost fail to read the text. Facilities never bothered with educating their hybrids, only intent in teaching them the arts of being loyal and desirable so they’d get their pay.

“Men….u? St.. art…eer?” It’s near impossible to understand any of it, and eventually you have to put it down, huffing out a complaint. “Okay fine, i can't read at all.” Frustrated, you pull off the t-shirt, leaving the pillow to fall on the floor. You’ve watched countless videos, only with the help of the voice recognition function on the remote control, and have attempted daily for this whole week. “So what have you guys done this week?”

He notices now that you have the tv displaying an episode from those random TV series, you probably don't even know the name of it. You’re almost attempting to recreate the same scene of the friends sitting around the table, eyes flickering at the TV as you eye how they sit. You mimic a squeaky voice, holding the teddy bear by the scruff as you move its head around. “I went to the park with my handler.”

Somehow your eyes light up despite the fact you had made that up yourself, clapping your hands together. “Wow, I love the park! I wish I could chase the squirrels…” Your expression falters for a second, eyes drooped until you shake your head, moving to puppet the pillow in the middle instead. “I went to the movies with mine, and then we got icecream.”

You smile again, retracting your hand and placing it on your hips. “Damn, icecream too! ..Um.. It doesn’t matter what I did. We should do something together, but it has to be something easy.. and not too fun because if we leave a mess Simon will be mad.” He almost feels bad, but it’s not his fault, you will make a mess, and he’s already tired enough as it is. What he hadn't expected was what you’d say next.

“I don't think we’ll be able to do these meetups anymore guys.” You mumble out, frown growing on your lips as you puppeteer the bear. “What, why?”

“I-i think I’ll be getting kicked out soon. Or maybe I should just run away.. Should I? I mean, it’s not a totally bad idea and Simon won't have to deal with me!”

You stare back at the two fake people in front of you, the silence hanging heavy in the air until you reach forward, plucking the paper smiley face off the pillow and sticking on a sad face instead. “I know, I know— running away is bad and I'll only get hurt. What else then?”

The silence is long again and for once Simon can feel the distraught look on your face as you clench the hem of your loose sweater, nose wrinkled. It’s clear you’re not feeling too good, especially if you’ve resorted to talking to your own stuffed animals about running away to make him happier. It’s a pitiful sight to say the least but he can't blame you either, he’s purposefully ignored every single one of your feeble attempts to talk to him. It’s not like it helps that you’ve been cooped in a house for two weeks straight, not able to talk to anyone else. Now that he’s forced to notice, forced to think about it, it’s clear he’s torturing you, in some sick unintentional way. You’re locked away, a prisoner, a ghost— someone no one even knows exists despite how much you cry and beg for a sound to be made.

The small shuffle of your steps is sad, the way you put everything into position perfectly in case he gets annoyed, not that he’d ever express it anyway– sometimes you wish he just would say something, anything. But he doesn't, and you take the tatty teddy bear, hugging it to your chest. Not even your tail can bring you much warmth, the matted fur rough against your skin as you’ve failed to upkeep it’s maintenance the more miserable you grow.

You wont stay here for long, you’ll be moved elsewhere and grow older, less ‘desirable’ as you lose all your hybrid fluffiness until you’re finally left on the streets, scavenging bins for food like your parents did. A cycle that only repeats for you.

—————-

part 2 (coming soon, ask to be tagged)

other hybrid drabble i did

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x gender neutral reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod angst #simon riley angst

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okwonyo · 1 day ago

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日语─── BEST PART ❜

RIPIRDENRE ੭୧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾.

husband!enhypen & wife!reader 8OO non-idol au fluff established relationship 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏｡ mention of kissing

지아 ⠀⦂⠀credit to my amazing girlfriend kimibae for the idea ><

✶ rbs&feedbacks！ DAILY ˊᯅˋ archive

HEESEUNG it happens when he is talking to his colleagues— his phone rings inside of his pocket and, as if it was a national instinct, he takes it immediately. he doesn’t hesitate much before accepting the call when your name appears, leaving his colleagues hanging. “yes, baby?” he answers, in the softest tone anyone has witnessed him use before. it’s something he only does with you, picking up the phone no matter what. no matter where he is or what he is doing, if you call, you can be sure that he will always answer. his abrupt disappearance makes the people he was talking to a tad bit confused. they ask him who he was talking to as soon as he comes back. “who?” he smiles. “i was talking to my wife.”

JAY “what are you doing here, princess?” he smiles gently, resting his back on his chair’s backseat— getting comfortable as soon as he sees you. with a happy expression on your face, you walk toward your husband. you hold the lunchbox in your hands in a way that makes his heart swell, with such love and care that he might melt. “you forget your lunch at home, so i bought it to you.” he lets you settle yourself on his laps as you talk, “am i bothering you?” and he can’t tell you that he left his lunchbox on purpose, just to see you. “no, i love your visits.” so, it’s never really confirmed or said out loud (until a work party), but the way he looks at you, the shining ring on his finger says it all.

JAKE there isn’t a day where he stays quiet— he is always bringing your name up somehow. in every conversation he has, no matter how brief they can be, you will always get mentioned at some point of it. therefore, he is the first to find it a bit surprising when people find out that is married to you, several months after the wedding happened. people ask him with wide eyes about what he means by ‘my wife’ and he looks at them with the exact same expression. “well, i am married?” he answers, as if it was obvious. to his defense, he really thought it was. to his words, he adds the action of showing off his ring when he speak again, “i have a wife, i talk about her all the time. do you even listen to me?”

SUNGHOON doesn’t talk about you much. although, you are on his mind from the moment he wakes up to when he closes his eyes at night— he likes to protect his privacy at all costs. however, when he gets married, he assumes that everyone already knows about it. the ring on his finger accompanied by your picture on his desk makes it quite obvious (he even catches himself staring at either of them quite often). he discovers that it’s not the case at all when he tells his colleagues about how he has to leave early because he has a date. he’s bewildered when someone asks him with whom, he thinks they are joking at first, but it doesn’t seem like it. “with my wife?”

SUNOO your husband is handsome. you’d say that he is pretty, ethereal even. you know that already— how gorgeous he is and how magnetic is aura can be. so, it doesn’t surprise you when he tells you that his colleagues spend half of their time trying to match him up with someone and the other half hitting on him with barely any shame. he always denies their offer with a sweet laugh—until he comes back from his honeymoon. he looks refreshed, he can’t stop smiling whenever he thinks about you, which makes him ten times more attractive. this time, when someone tells him that one of his colleagues likes him, he denies again but with a brand new formula. “i am a married man, now.”

JUNGWON can’t leave home without the satisfaction of your lips touching his. even if it’s not necessarily his lips, he wants a kiss somewhere on him. your complaints about how it’ll ruin your lip combo or take off your lipstick doesn’t affect him at all. your husband gets a kiss from his wife no matter what. sometimes, he even leaves before you can tell him that your lipstick is on his mouth, because he shuts you up with another peck before running away. usually, he notices it and take it off but not today. this time, it’s when one of his colleagues asks him who he got those stains from that he remembers. “oh, it must have been from my wife.”

RIKI he doesn’t understand why people don’t believe whenever he brings you up. he always talks about you— while making sure the use the term ‘my wife’ ever since you got married. however, it doesn’t seem to get into his colleagues’ head, for some reason that he either doesn’t know or that doesn’t make any sense. “i can’t go out with you guys today,” he tells his colleagues, already looking for his car somewhere in the parking lot— his mind is only focused in on coming home to you. “my wife is waiting for me at home.” today he decides to directly show pictures of your wedding when they ask what he is talking about. he was right, ‘but you are so young!’ is a stupid argument.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 days ago

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hair - february 10 - black brothers - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 425

“Hey, Sirius?” Regulus asked, quite sure he was going to pass out.

He’d been building up to this for weeks. Talking himself up to this moment, sending letters to Pandora and Dorcas and Evan and Barty, trying to get the courage to speak his mind. But he was terrified. Sirius was the only family he had left, and if he hated him….but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep quiet.

Sirius, completely oblivious, stared at the chessboard in between them and pointed at a few pieces, whispering to himself, before murmuring, “Yeah?”

“What…” he swallowed and steeled himself, “what would you do if I cut my hair short?”

His brother’s eyes flickered up to him once and back down to the pieces. “Nothing. I mean, you’d probably look a bit like a boy, but I’d get over it. Why?” He picked up a pawn and moved it.

Regulus let out a shuddering breath. “What if…what if I wanted to look like a boy?” he asked, gnawing at his lip so roughly he tasted blood.

This time, when Sirius looked up, his eyes lingered. “What? Why?” he asked, his voice not judgemental, but curious.

Gods, he was going to make him spell it out. Regulus looked away, stomach roiling. “Because I…” he swallowed again, wanting to melt into the floor. “Because I am….a boy,” he answered, voice barely a whisper.

There. He’d said it.

For what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds, Sirius said nothing. But he nodded and cleared his throat. “Alright, then. It’s your turn, yeah?”

Regulus met his eyes and gaped. “It’s-what?”

“It’s your turn. I’m about three moves away from slaughtering you, mind,” Sirius repeated, completely casual.

“Did you just hear what I said?” Regulus demanded, sure he was dreaming.

“Yeah, I mean…not much for me to say about it, yeah? I start calling you my brother and- oh! You probably want a different name, yeah?” Sirius rambled, still completely unbothered. “But other than that, it’s whatever you want. Just tell me what to do to help and I’ll do it,” he shrugged. “After I beat you in this game, of course.”

He took a long time to digest that before replying. “Regulus,” he mumbled. “Hmm?” Sirius hummed, distractedly looking at the chessboard again.

“My name’s Regulus.”

“Alright. Regulus, then. Make a move so I can kill your king, yeah? Then we can cut your hair and do whatever else you need,” Sirius grinned.

And, giving his brother a small, relieved smile, Regulus moved his queen.

Note: obviously being trans/transitioning is much more than just a haircut. this is just one small optional facet.

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dumbbitchgalore · 3 days ago

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Old Man!Price with an equally Insane!Reader as him 🧚‍♀️✨

TW: Slight mention of faux miscarriage (honestly not that bad imo)

Price is a quiet man, a cautious and calculating man. Every action, thought and plan ever conjured in his sick mind has always been well thought out.

Even when he decided to cheat on his wife of 20 years with you, he thought everything. John chooses the right moments to cheat on his wife, strictly following his wife's schedule allowing him to sneak away without suspicion. He uses burner phones, makes reservations under fake names, hell John will even have a separate car to pick you up to drive you to motels and dinner dates.

He’s a sneaky bastard that's for sure but cheating wasn’t his mistake. It was the mistake of cheating on his wife with you.

The moment you found out that you were his mistress, you decided to take things slow. You never made John realise that you’ve found out the truth, letting him enjoy your body to the fullest as you stayed in blissful ignorance.

Nights when John came to you became even more extravagant. Lingerie becomes more sensual, more for his taste. You take up the role of ‘wife’, fulfilling each aspect of John’s marriage that his actual wife lacked in satisfying.

You’d cook him home-cooked meals, re-filled his beer for him, sucked his cock exceptionally well while he watched the footy match on TV. You let me fuck you, fill you up with his cum. You submit, willingly accepting all his flaws that John’s wife would nag him about.

You became John’s ‘perfect little wife’. Not to mention you were younger, hotter and more lively- according to his words.

His sense of security and trust bloomed for you and now it was time to break it.

You find his address and go to his house when his wife opens the door and you happen to be looking for John.

His wife gives you a weird look.

“Oh, I’m John’s girlfriend, well actually-” You smile at the Missus patting your belly. “Hopefully ‘wife’ once I tell him about the little babe. And, you must be… his sister?”

You were fucking with her. You knew John didn’t have a sister but oh God, did you love how huffy and puffy the Missus looked. You feign a look for confusion as you tilt your head to the side.

The Missus slams the door in your face and not a minute later, shouting erupts from inside of the house . Booming voices of the missus and John reverberated through the walls and is carried outside but the wind.

All you do is simply get into your car and drive home.

A few hours later in the dead of night, aggressive knocking can be heard on your apartment front door, you go to open it only to be met with a fuming John. Without even acknowledging you, he forces himself inside your flat as he paces around shouting and yelling at you as if you were the problem.

Once again you feign ignorance, walking up to him and hugging him from behind to still his movements while you nuzzle your face into his flannel clothed back.

“I didn’t know, John. It was an honest mistake. I just… I needed to see you…” You whisper against his shirt, a sniffle follows.

John sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “Is it true… are you…” his voice begins to shake.

You turn him around to face him, tilting your head up to look into John’s cerulean eyes as you give him a slow nod.

“I didn’t mean to, John. I swear it just-” Your pleas were swallowed by John’s hungry kisses, desperation creeps into them as he tries to find any faults in your words. Alas, he couldn’t.

You kissed him back with the same fervour as he’s shown you clinging into his shirt and John makes his mind up right there. He was going to leave his wife and John was going to take care of you and the baby and this time he was going to do everything right.

The following week, John files for divorce. A few months later, just as John and his Missus’ annulment was finalised, you just happened to have a miscarriage.

There was no turning back from this now. John could go back to his wife as if she’d take him back but his one reason for committing to you was now gone.

Oh well, not like the pregnancy was real anyway.

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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago

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…Dad!König and his chunky as hell baby… perhaps Dad!König wanting… chunky baby number two? I mean, get a load of this guy (literally)

I think we can all agree that König kinda fuckin’ REEKS of only child. So I think in his mind, it would be best to have more than one. Less likely that they turn out all fucking awkward, like he did.

And of course he gives you huge babies. Look at him. You probably bruised his hand during labor and cursed him to hell and back for doing this to you. Absolute unit of a baby.

And he loves a bit of symmetry. Having a baby in one arm just makes him want to have a baby in the other arm.

He’s worshipping the ground you walk upon during your pregnancy, by the way. But it’s even more extreme right after you give birth. He knows it was extremely difficult, and that you’ve given him something he’d never dreamed he’d have. Something he thought he was past the right age for. And, a bit selfishly, he pampers you so intensely because… he wants you to look back on this time with your fresh new baby as fondly as possible. Because that will increase the chances that you’ll be willing to go through one of those hellish labors for him again so that your baby can have a sibling.

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #konig #konig x reader #könig x reader #König

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malsmind · 2 days ago

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favorite pillow

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris uses your ass as a pillow

warnings: swearing, biting

author's note: i feel like i write too much smut... also have way too much of chris being obsessed with ass sitting in my drafts so

wc: 576

english is not my first language!

soft mumbles came from the TV, making it the only sound audible in chris's room other than the sound of either of you watching a tiktok or instagram reel on your phones. you were laying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows, mindlessly scrolling trough your phone with chris's head rested on your buttcheek, doing the same thing. you could feel his breath fanning over the bare skin of your ass, your shorts barely covering the smooth flesh of your backside.

whenever you shifted in your position, laying your head on the matress to help the ache in your elbows from holding yourself up on his bed, chris would groan out, complaining over you disturbing his peacful scrolling while he used your ass as a pillow, his favorite pillow. it was only a matter of time until chris would grow bored of holding his phone up and scrolling trough the same apps over and over again, but you? you could do it all day long, most of the time at least, now was one of those times.

chris put his phone down with a sigh, his head still comfortably resting on your buttcheek, one of his arms sprawled out over the back of your thighs, the other one next to your body on the matress. chris shifted, moving his hand up to your other asscheek, tracing patterns on it with his fingertips, making you giggle a little, turning your head back to look at him over your shoulder. "don't let me disturb you, m' just enjoying my favorite time of the day." he mumbled, meeting your eyes.

you shake your head at him with a smile, turning your attention back to your phone. chris continued to trace soft circles on your skin, tilting his head slightly, placing soft kisses, his stubble tickling your skin, making you giggle again. his lips continued to press kisses to your smooth skin, fingers fiddling with the lace of your shorts innocently. "we can do something if you want chris, i don't have to be on my phone" you let him know, but he hummed, declining. you continued to scroll trough your phone, letting him do his thing, you never minded it. he was smiling to himself, happy in the place he was in, using his favorite pillow during your guy's favorite time of the day.

his kisses faded, replaced by a sudden sharp sting on the skin of your buttcheek, not sharp enough to really bother you though. however, when the small, gentle bites turned into more forceful ones, aching with the aftermath of chris's teeth sinking into your flesh, your head snapped to look at him again. "ow, chris! seriously?"

"what? you're just biteable, not my fault!" you shook your head in disbelief at the exaggerated pout on his lips, feigning sadness at your protest to him showing his love for you and your ass. you turned your head back to your phone, continuing to watch whatever tiktok you'd paused. when chris sunk his teeth into you again, you put your phone down, pushing him off fo you with your legs and laying on your back. "enough of that, yeah?" you warned, raising your eyebrows at him.

he groaned, crawling up on the bed to lay between your legs, his head resting on your chest. you laid back, wrapping your arms around his body, cuddling him back.

"you're so fuckin' mean, y'know that?" he mumbled into your chest.

dividers by @issysh3ll !

@middlepartmatt @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @rcklessheavn

#𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader fluff #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

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rebelfell · 1 day ago

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Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k

Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

Unintentionally, of course.

It was never something he planned to do.

He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities.

But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”

Eddie absolutely loses it.

He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.

(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)

Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)

He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—

There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.

They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.

“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”

“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”

Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.

“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.

“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows.

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.

The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.

Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.

He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.

He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water.

But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.

Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness.

You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?

How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?

“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.

There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.

“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.

“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.

A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.

He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.

You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.

Then you get to the card.

Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.

Then you read it, and your smile falls.

Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.

“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.

“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”

“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.

You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”

Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”

“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”

Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.

“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”

Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.

“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”

His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours.

But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

He sure would think about it, though.

Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.

I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.

also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things

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rafesslxt · 2 days ago

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beach night

DAY 1 valentines special <3

SUMMARY: it‘s your first valentines day together and rafe wants to do something special for you, even asking his sister for help.

WARNINGS: make-out session at the beach, rafe being the cutest ever, romantic date, emotional gift, rafe crying, mention of rafe's passed away mom

WORD COUNT: 2,4k

NOTE: english isn‘t my first language, thank you all for reading! Every like, comment or reblog is appreciated! <3

"What are you doing?“ Sarah‘s voice echoed through the steamy kitchen as she appeared in the doorway, which was filled with smoke and cursings coming from Rafe‘s lips as he tried to scratch the last remnants of noodles from the pot that was now pitch black.

"I‘m cooking." his voice was tight, his jaw tensed as he thossed the ruined pan into the kitchen sink. "fuckn‘ shit" he mumbled under his breath, running a hand over his buzz cut and then across his face.

"Yeah.. and why are you trying to cook?“ Rafe sighed, now looking at his sister's amused face. "It's valentines day." he answered, as If that would explain anything.

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "I wanted to surprise her with a.. romantic dinner." A smile crept onto Sarah’s face at her brother’s words.

"Oh I should‘ve known this is about y/n. Why else would you be in the kitchen the first time after 20 years. So, what did you have in mind ?"

Rafe glanced back at his culinary disaster. "I wanted to surprise her with dinner tonight – i know i can‘t cook, so I thought I’d practice beforehand to avoid ruining it.”

"Why don‘t you take her to a nice restaurant? You know she appreciates everything, no matter what you do." Sarah should know, she‘s your best friend. But Rafe already knew that you would be happy even if you both just sat on the couch watching movies all night long.

"I know that. But she deserves more. She deserves everything. And I don‘t want to do something with money, that‘s not impressing her." He sank into a chair, running both hands over his head, his elbows resting on the desk in front of him. “Can you help me?”

"What?", Sarah looked at her brother in surprise. "You heard me. You‘re her best friend, you have to have an idea come on." "Well -", she began, walking over to sit across from him.

"I mean let‘s brainstorm. What does y/n like? What is she talking about the whole time when you two are together?"

He leaned back, letting memories of their conversations, dates, and time spent together flood his mind "I mean she loves her family, her dog, her friends.. she likes clothes and makeup.."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Not like that. That‘s what every girl likes. I meant stuff like.. her passions."

Rafe nods. "She loves animals, always talking 'bout them. Loves trying new food, experimenting with it while cooking. Uh – she also loves the beach, the ocean in general."

Sarah smiled at him, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "What?“ "I didn‘t know you could be such a listener."

"Come on, Sarah, I don't have time for this." his voice tighter than before. "Alright alright.. what about a date at the beach?", she suggested.

Rafe's eyes widened, "Yes yes yes! She once showed me some tiktok's of a picnic at the beach 'n stuff. Bet she would love that." Rafe stood up from his chair and began pacing around the kitchen, excitement coursing through him at the thought of her face when she saw a full picnic spread out on the beach.

"But how do I get the food to be warm when we get there ? I would have to pick her up." His gaze landed on his sister again. "Can you pick her up?"

"Yeah gonna do. John B and I aren't meeting until 10 pm." "Okay great. Uhm - okay I need to go and get everything. Just text her you wanna do something with her since John B doesn't have time for you -" "Uh - he does have time; he's just-" "Yeah yeah, broke ass boyfriend who's late so he has to push the date to 10pm to get everything sorted."

He had literally thought of everything. He even enlisted Topper’s help, since that idiot hadn’t managed to secure a date aside from a little hookup that never happened because she dumped him.

Topper assisted him in setting up four fire torches adorned with fairy lights, and he also brought over the food while Rafe continued arranging the rest. He arrived exactly five minutes before you were supposed to show up with Sarah.

“Thanks, man.” He gave his friend a light slap on the shoulder, surveying the setup.

"No problem man, I like y/n. Even though she's a pogue." Topper chuckled before he turned towards Rafe. "Okay bro, gonna leave before the princess arrives. Call me up If you need anything else alright?" He nods and starts walking backwards while Rafe gave him thumbs up and a little smile.

Topper hopped into his car and drove off the beach, taking a different route to avoid crossing paths with you and Sarah.

Meanwhile you and Sarah laughed in her car to a joke she just told you. "I can't believe he said that!" "It's JJ, what do we expect I guess?", you giggled, glancing outside the window for a short moment. "Yeah, touche."

You noticed Sarah taking a turn toward the beach instead of continuing down the road to her place. “Where are we going?” you asked, curious. "I don't know, felt like taking a quick stop at the beach. Romantic at Valentinesday.", she joked, wiggling her eyebrows.

A small laugh left your lips at her corniness. "Stop, you're almost acting like JJ when he wants Rafe to get mad at him for flirting with me." "I know, saw it last time and I had to listen to Rafe ranting the whole day at home how he's gonna punch JJ in the face so he never can talk to you ever again without a tongue."

You both hopped out of her car when she parked near the ocean. Just a little bit of sand separating you from the waves.

You quietly walked down towards the shore, Sarah taking a turn around a little cliff. That's when you saw it. Him.

"Have fun.", Sarah whispered into your eyes before disappearing behind you.

With your heart racing, you walked down theshore toward your boyfriend, a smile stretching across your face. “Rafe... what did you do?” you asked, clearly shocked, your breath taken away as the view became clearer.

As you reached him, he instantly reached out, pulling you close, his hands finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Thought surprising you with something different than expensive stuff.", he smiled like a fool, full of love.

Tears of joy tingled in your eyes as you looked over his shoulder. It was breathtaking, like something out of a movie. Therewere various plates of food: one filled with your favorite fruits, another with candy, and a third brimming with crackers,cheese, olives, and everything he had found on Pinterest. Next to the plates sat a large pizza box and a bottle of your favorite wine, accompanied by two glasses.

Everything was beautifully arranged on a large white blanket, adorned with rose petals scattered among the different items.At the end of the blanket was a massive pile of pillows, every cushion Rafe could find around the house, except for those on the beds.

"This is - I don't even have words like, wow. It's so beautiful Rafe, thank you. Thank you so much." He reached down and tilted your head upwards, looking right into your eyes. "Everything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.", he whispered before crushing his lips against yours.

The kiss was tender and full of love, his lips moving slowly and intensely against yours.

He teased your bottom lip,smirking against your mouth as he felt you open up for him. His tongue found yours, and within moments, the kiss deepened,your hands exploring his chest and wrapping around his neck. Your body pressed against his, feeling his heart racing beneath his chest..

You felt your stomach getting all tingly, heat slowly pooling low in your stomach when you felt his hands greedily wandering over your stomach and right side, down towards your ass cupping it and pressing you even tighter against him.

A moan slipped past your lips, which he swallowed down like the air he needed to breathe. "Shit, stop doin' this shit or I'm gonna have you before we even made it to the blanket." he murmured against your lips, brushing his against yours.

Your eyes locked with his and a little smile formed on your lips. "Hmm, we wouldn't want that to happen, right?" A cheeky grin spread across Rafe’s face, revealing his mischievous thoughts.

You playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours, pulling him toward the picnic. As you settled down, you glancedover your shoulder. When you turned back, Rafe was already hovering over you.

"I'm hungry.." Rafe grinned, looking at you like you were his last meal. "Rafe stop!", you giggled and pushed him off you so he tumbled beside you.

"Come on, let's eat before it gets cold.", you suggested, opening the pizza box. You took a piece and put it on a plate, placing it in front of Rafe while he uncorked the wine and poured each of you a glass.

"To us. To you, the most beautiful girlfriend on this planet.", he said with a cheeky smile, clinking his glass with yours before taking a sip.

You two started to eat and drink, the night filled with you guys laughter and chatting. "I know we said no big gifts and stuff but I still have something for you.", Rafe started when he placed a strawberry in front of your lips. "Rafe.." "Don't start baby doll, you're my girl, I can gift you what I want, alright?" A sight left your lips before you wrapped your lips around the strawberry, sucked it in a little bit and bit off a peace.

Rafe watched you intently, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. "Damn you wanna get me high and dry tonight huh?" "What the hell?" you let out a loud laughter at that quote. "Weirdo.", you smirked at him while he pulled out a little box from the pocket of his jeans.

He pulled you into his lap, putting his head onto your shoulder from behind. "Here, open it.", he whispered inside your ear, putting it into your hands. You smiled at him and slowly took the lid off the small boy.

A small gasp left your lips when you looked at a beautiful shell that was threaded onto a golden necklace. "It's the shell you gave me when we first crashed into each other at the beach – the day you moved here, remember?" he kissed your cheek.

You could feel your heart aching with love, your troat slightly throbbing, trying to hold back the little sob. "You still have it?" "Hmm, always had it the top drawer beside my bed." his lips brushed against your cheek before he placed a gentle kiss there.

"Can you put it on me, please?" you asked, your bottom lip slightly quivering. " 'Course." he softly brushed your hair over your shoulder, took the necklace from your hand and placed it around your neck, securing the little clasp before placing your hair back over your shoulder. "Done."

You looked down at your chest and smiled at the little shell that hung now right above your other Necklace with an "R" on it. "It's beautiful, thank you. Can I give you yours now?", you smiled up at him, bending your head a little to look at him.

Before he could protest that you shouldn’t have gotten him anything, you pulled out something from your little purse. "Close your eyes." He obeyed, waiting patiently. You took his hand and opened it, placing the cool item in his palm.

"Okay, open now." ´, you told him, waiting for him to look at it. he opened his eyes and looked down o to his hand, a little golden necklace placed on it. He let out a chuckle and looked at you.

"Seems like we have similar tastes, huh?" "Open it, Rafe.", you said softly, knowing what's inside the golden pendant. He raised an eyebrow at you before taking it in both his hands and opening it up with his fingers.

His smile fell as he stared at the little black and white picture that was placed in it. He felt as if he were frozen, unable to move or even breathe. "Rafe? Baby..", you careful asked him, not sure If it may have been a bad idea to ask Sarah for that picture.

You saw his eyes filling with tears until the first one dropped right down his right cheeks, his lips starting to quiver. "I -" he tried to talk but his words were cut off by a little sob that made its way out of his throat. More tears followed down the first one on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry, Rafe. Shit I -" He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting against your shoulder as he sobbed like a child, clutching the necklace in his fist.

"Thank you.", he cried out, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure "Do you want me to put it on for you?", you asked softly, kissing his cheek while your arms were wrapped around him.

You just nodded, causing you to get up a little and carefully taking the necklace from his fist he had opened for you. You put it around his neck like he had earlier around yours and placed the pendant on his chest, a soft smile on your lips.

He looked down at it, opening it again and looking down at a little photo of his mom inside of it, smiling brightly at the camera.

"I asked your dad for it. He told me it was -", you corrected yourself, "is, his favorite picture of her." Rafe took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before meeting your gaze again.

"I love you so, so much, y/n. This is - it means so much to me." He said, his voice still trembling. "I love you too, Ray." He pulled you in for a sweet kiss, both his hands cradling your cheeks. "Best Valentine ever.", he chuckled against your lips, making you giggle.

Best Valentine indeed.

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

taglist: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017 @lizzysmith110 @mattyskies @my-name-is-baby @synicaljah @tiaajosephin @gxdsfavgal @whyamireadingthis @starkeycore

xoxo sarah <3

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submattenthusiast · 3 days ago

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record shy!matt

"cmon baby show the camera that pretty face" you coo, angling the camera towards his burnt red face. his head turned away from the lens, and into the sheets beside him. he brought a hand up to cover the side of his face that was still in frame. your hips were relentlessly pushing into him while his cock bounced from the force of your thrusts. "can't—fuck please from the ba—oh" he stuttered, mind going to shit as the tip of the silicon repeatedly hit his prostate. switching the angle you focused on his cock and showing the precum that leaked from the top and had a place on his stomach from the repeated contact.

a grunt escaped from the boy one that sounded like a poor attempt to regain control. his back arched off the bed and his head flew back into the pillows below, the stimulation fogging his brain and controlling his body. you smile into the camera once you realize his hand fell from his face, quickly you move the camera to catch a glimpse of his red and fucked out face. "flip over please— not my face" he whined, avoiding eye contact with the camera. switching the focus again you show the camera how well the skin toned dildo moved in and out of him. "taking me so well aren't you. look at how easy i'm sliding in"

his cheeks flushed at the praise and a small smile plastered across his face. you rub at his sides comfortingly as you pulled out while so he could get on all fours for you, for the camera. you set the camera aside but never switched it off meaning that the camera caught everything, caught the lip that was already forming in his sore legs, caught the shake in his arms as he tried to balance himself and the way he didn't want to back at you but couldn't keep his eyes away from the sight. the sight of you gripping the base of the cock and coating it with a new layer of lubricant, it made his stomach turn.

molding your hands into his hips you steady yourself behind him, knees pressed into the bed as you push back into him. a pathetic high pitched moan left his lips at the reinserting of the silicone, the stretch putting the arch in his back once more. your hips slap against his rear as you work to build up the pace you had before. all matt could do was cry out, no words no thoughts just sounds of pleasure, over and over again.

i picking up the camera again you show off his sweat glistened body, starting from where your bodies met to the his slightly toned back, and stopping at the back of his head. your fingers tangled in his hair roughly to catch his attention, needing his ears opened for when you spoke. "this is my favourite way to fuck you matt, seeing the arch in your back, and even when you try to hide from me i can always find you" you remind, pulling his head back and into the view of the camera.

#matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sub matthew sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #sub!matt #sub!matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #jules writes ★ ˙📓 ̟!!

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connorsui · 2 days ago

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UNLIMITED ACCESS!

This was wonderfully requested by my beloved @madam8 who gave me such a beautiful idea for a sylus date and I couldn't let go of it until I completed it 😭😭🩷🩷 like it's so cute that even when I was studying I kept thinking of new ways to end the fic or new scenes to add into it. --- it was ...AAUGH- my heart ...tho I do apologize for how long this one took out ur girl was busy trying not to fail classes 💀💀 ...lol 💅🏻

p.s if you see my corpse surrounded by flowers anywhere you can blame it on this ask ✨️ I LOVE IT

It started, as most things with Sylus did, with...

extravagance.

He had a habit of planning nights that felt more like events—private rooftops overlooking the shimmering city skyline, candlelit dinners in places that required reservations months in advance, evenings where the very sky seemed to bend to his will.

Luxurious. Impeccable. Always grand.

And while you loved those moments—loved him—there was something else you had been craving lately.

Something... simpler.

So one evening, as he idly twirled a glass of dark liquor between his fingers and casually mentioned taking you to a private villa on an island, you leaned into his space, resting your chin on your palm, and asked—

"Why don’t we do something more…plain? Just for the day—I mean."

Sylus stilled slightly, red eyes flickering toward you, waiting.

"Don’t get me wrong, I love our dates," you continued, "but I think it’d be nice to just do something fun. Silly, even. Maybe a little childish?"

A playful smile curled at your lips.

"Just… something where you don’t have to rent out an entire skyline to impress me."

He raised a brow, surprised. "You wish for something plain?"

You grinned. "Exactly. So let’s just have a normal date. Like—oh! What about an amusement park? Or an arcade? Or the fair!"

Sylus exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a measured movement. "Your ideas are enjoyable… I wouldn't mind indulging in them."

"Yeah! It’ll be fun, I promise. We can see what rides you like, if you’ll actually tolerate roller coasters, or if you’re one of those people who insists they’re too predictable." You smirked. "Oh, and you have to try winning me something from one of those carnival games."

He regarded you with that ever-neutral gaze, quiet and considering, before finally murmuring—

"For you, I wouldn’t mind fulfilling that request."

You smiled, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek, already excited for whatever simple, carefree date he would plan.

Or so you thought.

Because somehow—somehow—things escalated.

Instead of just buying tickets like a normal person, Sylus had decided the best course of action was to…

Buy. The. Entire. Damn. Park.

Your favorite amusement park, to be exact.

And now here you stood at the entrance, staring up at the massive sign that should have been buzzing with families, groups of friends, and screaming children running past in excitement.

Instead, it was silent.

The ticket booths? Closed. The parking lot? Void of life.

The only people here were you, Sylus, and the staff, who stood patiently, waiting only for the two of you.

You turned to him slowly, your brain still buffering.

"Sylus… I—when I said I wanted a fun day with you… this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

Sylus, as usual, looked completely unbothered. "Did I get the wrong park?"

You blinked. "…No, but—Sylus, what—" You gestured at the empty surroundings, struggling to form a coherent thought. "You didn’t have to—How did you even do this?"

He tilted his head, as if you had asked a genuinely confusing question. "I bought it."

You took a deep breath. "No, I know that, but why?"

Sylus blinked at you, expression calm yet calculating, like he was trying to gauge whether you were actually upset.

"Would you prefer a different one? I can acquire another if this one isn’t to your liking."

You choked. "Acquire—Sylus, I meant let’s just have a normal day at the park! With other people! Like… buying tickets, not—not monopolizing an entire amusement park for us!"

He hummed thoughtfully. "That would be inconvenient. I don’t like crowds."

Your brain short-circuited. "Okay, fair, but I’m not even sure how to react to this." You ran a hand down your face, staring at the vast, empty park. "Do I just… accept this? Should I ask you to sell it back? Is it even going to open to normal people when we're not here?"

Sylus exhaled softly, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His red eyes, sharp yet steady, held an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I wanted you to have the best experience," he murmured, his voice low, deliberate—like he was peeling back the layers of his thoughts just for you. "No interruptions. No strangers ruining our time. No one else pulling your attention away."

His thumb ghosted along your jaw, his touch as careful as it was possessive.

"I wanted today to be ours. Every moment, every ride, every second—only for us."

Your heart squeezed at the weight of his words.

Sylus was always confident, always in control—but this was different. This wasn’t about power or extravagance.

This was about ...you.

He had done this for you.

Damn him.

Damn him and his ability to turn something so ridiculous into something that made your heart melt.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples before looking up at him again. "You really don’t do things halfway, huh?"

His lips twitched, almost smirking. "Would you expect anything less?"

You huffed, shaking your head. "Not at all."

His hand slipped from your chin to your wrist, fingers curling around it as he tugged you toward the entrance.

"Then let’s stop worrying about it and enjoy it as much as we can."

You let him pull you forward, your brain still catching up to the fact that this was happening. That you were about to experience an amusement park that was literally all yours for the day.

And honestly?

You weren’t going to complain.

But as you walked in, something felt... strange.

The park was…alive?

Despite the complete absence of other guests, the workers were still here—acting as if today was a completely normal day.

Vendors stood at their booths, flipping burgers, making cotton candy, lining up pretzels under warming lamps. The game stalls were manned, workers casually leaning against counters, ready to hand out prizes.

The park’s parade performers were still marching down the street. A princess in a poofy dress waved at you. Mascot characters moved in synchronized greetings, despite the fact that no one was here but you.

It was… surreal.

Sylus squeezed your hand as you slowed to take it all in. "I told them to proceed as usual. It would’ve been eerie if everything was frozen."

You turned to him. "So… it’s like the park is still running, but we’re the only ones who get to experience it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Don’t you think it’s better this way?"

You inhaled deeply, looking around again.

Sylus watched you carefully, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Are you alright?"

You hesitated, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Of course! I mean—” You hesitated again, glancing around as your expression softened. “It’s nothing wrong, I promise! I love that you did this, I do, but…” You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before looking up at him again.

“I just—I wanted this day to be special not just for us entirely, but to have a moment together surrounded by everyone and everything.” Your voice was gentle, thoughtful. “The chatter, the energy, the crowds moving past us. The chaos of it all.”

You shrugged, a little sheepish. “I know you don’t like being around too many people, and I love that you wanted to make this day perfect for me, but part of what makes an amusement park so special is the shared experience, y’know? That feeling of being one in a sea of people, laughing together, screaming on rides, getting bumped into by kids running past, standing too close in lines because there's no choice…”

Your words trailed off as you searched his gaze, unsure how he’d react.

For a moment, Sylus didn’t say anything. His red eyes remained locked onto yours, unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way his fingers idly traced over your knuckles, as if considering your words carefully.

Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose—slow and measured, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“…I see...I- ” His voice was as calm as ever, but there was a shift in his tone.

He glanced around, taking in the completely empty pathways, the stalls with no customers, the parade performing for no one but you two. The sight of the workers, stationed and waiting, but missing the usual life of the park.

Sylus was pragmatic. He saw a problem, he solved it. Simple. To him, the best way to ensure you had an amazing day was to remove all obstacles—the crowds, the noise, the inconvenience of waiting in lines or dealing with other people.

But now, as he watched you, something seemed to click.

“…Would you like me to open the park?”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—you mean, like, right now?”

He nodded once. “If it would make you happy.”

Your heart stuttered. "Sylus—I didn’t say all that just to guilt you into—”

He raised a brow. “It’s not about guilt. You wanted to share this moment with people and I took that possibility from you” He pulled out his phone as if he could undo an entire park shutdown with a single call—which, knowing him, he probably could.

You stared at him, then let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching to stop his hand before he could dial. “Okay, hold on, let’s think about this rationally—”

Sylus merely looked at you, waiting for what you were bound to say next.

You exhaled, lacing your fingers with his properly. “Look, it’s okay. I love what you did, and I will enjoy this day with you.” You squeezed his hand. “I just needed a moment to process it, that’s all.”

Sylus was silent for a moment, his red eyes scanning your face as if committing every little twitch of emotion to memory. Then, his gaze flickered past you, landing on a nearby booth.

A teddy bear stand.

Without a word, he turned, gently tugging you along by the hand.

You blinked in surprise. “Wait—where are we—?”

He stopped in front of the booth, staring at the rows of stuffed bears lined up in varying sizes, from tiny keychains to ones nearly as tall as you. His jaw was set, unreadable, but his grip around your hand was firm.

“Sylus?” You tilted your head at him, watching as he eyed the game—a classic ring toss setup.

“I failed to give you what you really wanted,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You should at least receive something in return.”

Your chest tightened at the way he said it.

Soft, but laced with frustration.

Like he was genuinely bothered that his attempt to make you happy had missed the mark.

“Sylus…” You squeezed his hand, stepping closer. “You don’t have to win me anything—”

He ignored that, already rolling up his sleeves with practiced ease. His focus was entirely on the game now, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the distance, the weight of the rings stacked beside the booth’s attendant.

Your lips parted in disbelief.

Sylus said nothing, simply holding his hand out for the rings. The worker—completely unphased, as if watching an overpowered, absurdly rich man win rigged carnival games was just another part of the job—wordlessly handed them over.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Sylus, you really don’t have to—”

The first ring landed perfectly on the bottle.

Your mouth snapped shut.

Another.

And another.

Without missing a single shot.

The worker gave a small, almost-impressed nod. “Pick your prize.”

Sylus turned to you, expectant.

You stared between him and the game, caught between laughter and disbelief. “This your way of an apology gift?

“And would that change anything if I said yes?”

“Sylus –”

You huffed, shaking your head before pointing to one of the bigger teddy bears—one with a white soft, plush face and an oversized red ribbon around its neck.

Sylus retrieved it without hesitation, turning to face you fully as he held it out.

“ you sure you didn't have me in mind? ” he said simply.

You giggled at him, your fingers curling around the soft fabric as you accepted the gift. “mayyybee”

It wasn’t about the bear. It wasn’t about the game.

It was him.

Sylus, who never half-assed anything. Who overthought in ways you weren’t always aware of. Who, despite his arrogance, still hated feeling like he had let you down.

Your heart squeezed painfully.

“…You’re too much at times” you murmured, hugging the teddy bear to your chest.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Says the one getting emotional over a stuffed animal.”

You shot him a playful glare, but when he reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, you softened.

“....Still,Thank you, for everything-- I mean” you murmured.

Sylus didn’t say anything, but his grip lingered—just for a second—not thinking of letting you go.

But as you continued walking, you caught the way his fingers brushed against his phone once more, a brief flicker of thought crossing his expression.

You narrowed your eyes. “Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not secretly opening the park back up again ….behind my back…are you?”

His lips curled, amused. “...perhaps”

#suiwrites🍒#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #lads x you #lads x mc #lads sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus x reader #lnds sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader

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vamptarot · 1 day ago

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TMIs about your future spouse | PAC

pile one 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 this pac was inspired by soobin, as well as my own love for tmis! tmi means ‘too much information’, so things that could be awkward to share but are still entertaining or interesting to talk about! please keep in mind that this is a general reading still, so these aren’t necessarily something unique, just fun! so something that happens to a lot if people, but not everyone. so it’s supposed to show your future spouse’s/soulmate’s unique charm! this reading is intended to make you feel closer to them, to help you realise they are an actual person and not just an idea of a possibility that could happen in your life! <3 I am also sorry for the colour theme for this pac, I admit, I haven’t properly thought it through.

pile one : books

𐙚: 8 of cups,page of cups reversed, three of pentacles, the devil reversed, ace of cups reversed, five of cups, six of wands

bottom of the deck: seven of swords reversed

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ the very first thing I would like to mention is that the cards almost formed a big zero, but suddenly the cards fell out in a way they formed the number ‘10’. so this leads me to believe that your person grew up in an environment in which they were bullied for their looks but grew up ‘to be a 10’ because they put in the work to take care of themselves. this could be something some of you will be able to relate over with your person, you two could stay up and share your experiences with one another. the number 10 is significant here in general as well, for some of you their birthday is on the 10th! so the 10th of any month, but the first 4 cards fell out in a way they mirrored one another so I assume there are actually quite a few people here whose spouse was born on October 10th. - or maybe even you, which they find cool. - for a very small amount of you, your person is 10 years older than you. most people in this pile will definitely only have a 1-4 years of age gap with their love, but I am specifically picking up on a few people who will have a 10, or even 10+ year age gap with their lover. don’t be scared though, if you aren’t into it then it’s more than likely not you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could potentially have an anxiety that is related to money! so there is a bigger possibility here that they grew up poor. I realise that there could be people in this pile who can’t relate to that, but regardless I wanted to mention it because it seems to be a part of their life that shaped their personality on a greater scale. they could be more attracted to people - both platonically and romantically - who can appreciate the little things in life, that are grateful for what they have and can take care of it well too. they seem to dislike people who take money for granted, but at the same time they don’t like it if people give too much power to it. it’s just that they wish to surround themselves with humble people who have a lot of gratitude.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could have great potential to be really successful at life, at whatever they set their mind to and become ambitious towards. however their own doubts could at times stop them from completing tasks at hand that they subconsciously deem as difficult. they know they will be successful, but there is still that doubt at the back of their head that just yells ‘what if’, continuously building up the anxiety inside of them bit by bit. so they are quite the over thinkers, sort of scatter brained because they have thousand of thoughts and they are all going at light speed. - I almost said Godspeed, so they might have this term in their everyday vocabulary. - don’t get them wrong, they are still very disciplined and hardworking, their mind just presents them with several situations so they can be sure to take the right one. for some of you they could even have imposter syndrome.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have an irregular sleeping schedule! of course, there are many people in this pile so the reason why for the irregular sleep schedule isn’t going to be just one thing. for some it’s insomnia, for another group is hypersomnia and for some people’s soulmate it’s really just because of their work. so you will really just have to wait and see! although I still think they prefer to stay up til late at night and wake up early. - sometimes they don’t even wake up but just continue the day.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ for some of you! they have special interests in different times of history. honestly Egypt and tudor era England is coming in strong! - yeah, typical/basic I know. they can still like it tho, up to them! - but also ancient China and Japan, especially the clothing. honestly, there seems to be a focus on the past. the cultures, fashion and social behaviour that were alive then. it seems to fascinate them how much people have changed yet stayed the same all at once! they just seem to have favourites. - this could be true in general. some of you will definitely have the ‘I hate everyone but you’ trope going on. - regardless they are highly intelligent and always willing to learn and educate themselves in every and any topic. they enjoy knowing things even if they seem useless to others. you can never know when you need to know something.

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might not be the most experienced when it comes to sexual things. it’s not that they aren’t experienced at all, but they much rather would prefer to control their desires than to give into them and waste time. it’s like they don’t want to do it if it’s not necessary. really hard to turn them on too. this is because… they are demisexual. if you don’t know what that is, it’s basically only being turned on if you are in love with the person you are sharing your experience with! - which no, it’s not normal for everyone! some people are aromantic and bisexual for example. - so they just pick their “battles” really carefully. for some of you they could even have purity ocd </3 that’s only a very selective few of you though!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I will be honest with you, they have been seriously in love before.. well, at least what they believe to be love. however, I genuinely can’t tell if they had a relationship or not because they overcomplicate the energy surrounding them and get all sentimental. this has also happened two times, but I am sure the second time they didn’t date.. it’s the first one that they overcomplicate, more than likely due to romanticising the idea of first love. hold on ✋🏻 don’t click off, I know you are annoyed. - rightfully! - this feeling of theirs won’t last forever, as they meet you they will mature and realise that ‘oh, this is what true love actually feels like’. - a channeled thought of theirs! - so by the time they are around they won’t think about that person! 🩶 they are also very single, so that’s that.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have a tendency to get insecure about themselves sometimes! not their body, I think there are body parts they are very confident in yet humble about. it’s rather about their personality and their being as a whole. they might question if they are good enough to be with you or if they even deserve your love. it’s not that they wonder because they know they don’t, past experiences just left them scarred. they could have been put down a lot mentally, possibly even bullied and told that no one would want to have them anyway.. so that experience just stuck. it makes them wonder if it’s true or not. you know? tries to keep their cool but at the end of the day they are a sensitive soul. very shy too!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ abandonment issues 🔥 sorry, I thought I would just be straightforward 🫡 they are really scared of being left behind by the people they love. though, it’s not an irrational fear at all to be fair. most people’s spouse/soulmate in this pile has divorced/separated parents. not gonna lie, it could have been the mom that’s left but of course that is personal to everyone’s experience. regardless, they could self sabotage and distance themselves if they believe that you will try to leave them. ‘I will leave before you can ever hurt me’, you know? so they could just need a lot of reassurance! nurturing is fine too, but it could make them embarrassed because they might feel like ‘they need to be stronger than this.’ - to point out, enjoying getting nurtured or giving it is completely fine and nothing you should be ashamed of, I am telling you how your person feels. - I do think they can heal from this habit tho! they are also an introvert. I wasn’t sure how to fit it, but I thought it’s important for someone here to hear it 🫶🏻

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ is interested in feminine people! no, you do not have to wear pink, bows and act like someone you are not. by feminine I mean someone with a gentle nature. kind, sweet, playful, well mannered, caring and a person that’s protective without being overbearing with it. a person with a silent strength. of course they might like it if you have feminine mannerisms too - as in your body language - but they don’t really consciously care about it, it’s a rather subconscious attraction of theirs! they care more for the person’s soul and not the body. - for some of you your person is religious, but I am sure that only applies if you yourself are religious as well! 🩷 - regardless, if you don’t think you embody these don’t worry about it too much. - I fully believe you do, you might just second guess yourself. -

— ✮⋆˙ pink , jang wonyoung , afro hair naturally but currently braided , ginger , shooting star , cosmos , cosmo and wanda , 90s shows , someone here likes niche movies (apes, star wars, kid shows ect.. bluey to be specific) , ‘timmy was an average kid that no one understands’ being stuck in your head , milk being spilled , starting the day of bad , red lipstick , April 4th , old fashion style? like classy 20s - 40s , swim - chase atlantic , smoke but from a candle , Aphrodite worshipper 🫵🏻 , bows but like dyi? on nails , leopard cubs , glamour , merida/brave , bears , a dog named bear ? black but not completely , ‘I got a pocket full of sunshine ‘

pile one, hold on because I got things to say. ✋🏻 I know most of you are girls/women but there are guys/men here that think I forgot them based on my reading style. I did not, the most manly men I have ever met had some sort of feminity to them. I felt your energy the whole time. 🫡 also, I know most of you doubt that I could actually get some of that information out bc ‘oh but you can’t get tmis with tarot’.. baby, I know you saw some other readers not being able to but I can. I am not saying this from a place of arrogance. as long as the person’s higher self is willing to share something with me I can channel it just fine. I am gifted and I WILL use it to help you because you deserve to have help, guidance and most important of all fun. obviously, these tmis are heavier than I expected, but if you wanna know more about your person who am I to stop that? I will channel to the best of my abilities for you 🫡 even tho I know some of you didn’t like some of the tmis and you know what? that’s fair you don’t have to 🤧 take care beautiful don’t let anyone dim your lights that even the sun would be jealous of mwa thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile two : soobin

𐙚: the magician, three of coins, hierophant reversed, the lovers reversed, wheel of fortune, eight of coins reversed, knight of wands

bottom of the deck: ten of pentacles

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem to be a rather pessimistic person. it’s not that they can’t have fun, it’s just that they are pessimistic without even noticing it you know. the kind of person to say ‘what if we won’t like it?’ when you suggest trying out something new. not bothersome though, could just lead to bickering or non serious fights in their daily life.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I don’t think this person is an adult yet.. ? as in, I don’t think they are any older than 20. so my best guess is the majority of the people who chose this pile are quite young as well 🫡 if you are an adult tho, it’s just that your person is very child like. it’s not that they are not mature, but they haven’t exactly experienced things yet that would make them view life in a serious manner.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ not that talk active. they talk, but they probably use a lot of slangs as of now and have a rather casual tone when talking with anyone. you know how teenage boys talk? kind of like that. not completely though, I don’t think their vocabulary sounds like brain rot. they know how to speak respectfully to people if that makes sense.. ? like they can let go of the slangs if they want, they just use it to sound more friendly. - or if they are really young they are trying to sound cool. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ outside a lot! they are pretty extroverted so they enjoy going outside with their friends, or to work. which is great, they honestly seem very disciplined even though their energy is carefree and young. it’s not that they are not home at all, but being inside all day could overwhelm them a lot.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they more than likely have a fake friend that wants no good for them. they are blissfully unaware of this, but this “friend” seems to be quite manipulative towards them because they enjoy the control that comes with it. :/ - hope they break free from people like this. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ has player tendencies. I am saying tendencies because they aren’t very successful with their attempts; although they would like to tell you otherwise lol they are unsuccessful bc at heart they are a lover boy/girl, they just didn’t embrace this part of themselves yet.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ doesn’t believe that there is genuinely someone out there for them. it stems from insecurity but also the fact that they don’t really seem to believe in true love. it’s like they wish it would exist, but in their eyes it does not. you will change this tho!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ honestly wants to have a big family of their own when they are older and feel ready for it. do you know those kids who say ‘when I will have a family I will have 11 kids so I have a football team’? your person could’ve been like that lol like I don’t think y’all will have that many kids, but you guys will still have a pretty little family.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might be a really cuddly person! not in public of course, but definitely in private. wants to cuddle with you as much as possible, especially when watching movies together or just chilling. might like the idea of you snuggling into them under their shirt or them doing this to you. - just depends on who is the more masculine one in the relationship. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ could honestly be very protective of you. not in a controlling sense, but your person is very brave and knows almost no fears. they will definitely be ready to call out anyone who disrespects you. maybe physically fight as well, but that’s incase you get harassed. probably has fantasies of being a protector. 🫡

— ✮⋆˙ brazil , ‘go ahead and cry’ (song), cold , tan skin , tiktok comment section , jump - p1h , rap songs , nose bleeds , football , sweat on forehead & hair (very specific thing to be attracted to. not judging, clarifying. ) , strawberries on pink shirt , chase ocean , choosing 2 piles (I see you) , hooves? as in hooves on horses , sailors ! , ⚓️ , purple eyeshadow , glittery eyeshadow , someone here is a latina , dandadan (esp the ost) , ‘love of my life’ , horror! , uzumaki by junji ito , book reader 🫵🏻

I am not going to lie to you, I am pretty much a big yapper but your partner was trying to be nonchalant so bad their energy affected what exactly I could say, how and just didn’t want to let me in on much. I think they like the idea of being mysterious so they force it even though they aren’t like that at all. also, I think they have a lot of tendency to lie bc throughout this whole reading their higher self tried to go ahead and lie to me in order to appear more cool and well mannered in front of you. if you are into mature men this is NOT your pile at all, this person is very immature and if they aren’t making you feel good this person isn’t for you my dearest. hopefully in the future I can do a better reading for you! thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile three : eye cream

𐙚: nine of wands rev, four of wands, ten of wands, the empress reversed, ace of wands rev, the hanged man, the sun rev, queen of swords rev

bottom of the deck: queen of coins

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ manspreads a lot. it could be that they are comfortable this way or that it’s to assert dominance quitely.. or, you know, just for space. I do feel like the reason is different for everyone, regardless there are many people in this pile who could perhaps find this gross. I understand, it’s not the most pleasant thing to imagine a random person doing.. but your future spouse is your future spouse!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might have a tendency to get depressed easily, perhaps they could even have a depression that’s related to a season like winter, or summer. this is different for each person but it’s winter for most people, it could drain their energy and they could feel rather exhausted.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their view on religions isn’t exactly mature, they view it as limiting and at times they could be disrespectful while completely thinking that they are justified. this doesn’t apply to only christianity, they could think most if not all religions are completely out of touch and could potentially grow their ego by saying that ‘they don’t need religion to be a good person’ while completely missing the point or without bothering to further learn about whatever subject at hand. although I want to point out, this is only the case if you yourself are the same way. for the religious people in this pile - especially if you are muslim - your future spouse still isn’t religious but is very much open to learning and hearing you out. they could potentially have big puppy eyes while smiling as you tell them about your religion, experiences and what they mean to you. there is a little divide in this group when it comes to this matter but I wouldn’t worry much because you attract the kind of people who are pretty much similar to you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they don’t have too much creativity to them - no shade - but they are incredibly good at analysing things and media literacy! they might like to take apart scenes in a movie or show or perhaps even notice things other people normally wouldn’t. they have really sharp eyes and are incredibly good at understanding context that can sometimes fly by peoples head. they are quite intelligent and observant, they appreciate it when there is meaning or reason behind things.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are a foreigner! I cannot tell where they are from, but it’s certainly a different country from yours. the country they are from seems to be known from their climate honestly, much different from what you are used to. for some of you it’s hot, for some it’s cold. for most of you they are from a hot climate and the owner of a tan skin! for the winter lovers, your spouse is from a cold climate! - while you might think I am making this up I am matter of fact just channeling the sort of person you will be pulled and attracted to. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ hopeless romantic, their higher self was not able to wait til I get to this point 😭 definitely the sort of person who loves spoiling you rotten with a whole lot of love to give! one of their love languages is words of affirmation 🙂‍↕️ I almost said ‘love of affirmation’ - lmao - so I am pretty sure they will tell you they love you every single day either directly or in their very own way.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem very confident on the outside but tend to get very insecure due to past traumas caused by someone that they once loved. they don’t like to be open about this, and they don’t enjoy the vulnerability that comes with it. they don’t like to be pitied but also get sad while recalling the memories. since their feelings are left unresolved there might be a few issues that come up in the relationship between you. they no longer love the person, of course, but they will at times wonder if they are good enough for you, if you love them or you pretend. they seem very scared of betrayal.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their type is a rather feminine and submissive person who can still stand up for themselves and be reliable. someone trustworthy, gentle, nurturing and kind hearted. yet, at the same time not really naive. someone wise, intelligent and nurturing. I feel pulled to say a ‘real women’ bc SOMEONE’s future spouse in this pac is very stubborn with mentioning that but for most people in this pile they are bisexual, so I don’t actually want to say that, but I am mentioning it just incase. - If you are a guy do not worry they are obviously a boy kisser my sweetheart - Eitherway, your spouse is very dominant. So that’s that! - Yes even if it’s a woman. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have incredibly high standards. they are picky and they like to choose their partner well. so because of this they are a tad bit inexperienced. not insanely, but they would rather value themselves than to give themselves to someone who can’t see their worth. - their words, not mine. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are family oriented, aka you oriented. they are incredibly open minded, understanding, not forceful and will try to be open and accepting even when it’s hard or they don’t exactly understand you or what you are going through. let’s say you start out the relationship wanting a big family but down the line get scared of pregnancy and become unsure if you actually want a big family or not, they will be accepting and try to understand; and if you aren’t ready to talk about it they will wait for you to slowly open up bit by bit no matter how long it takes. they are patient, and they are loving. of course, this was only an example but I figured this would be a good way to show how much your spouse adores and loves you for the person that you are, rather than what you can give them.

— ✮⋆˙songs from your childhood, ‘tell me it’s you’, someone here has a new crush, a drama starring kim soohyun, mbappé, smudged eyeliner, your waterline having some sort of issue? 🧐, painted glittery nails, reddish orange, cracking your fingers, blond - bleached - hair, storm, prominent eyebrows, leia/leila/layla, recently bought yourself clothing, X, pearls - maybe pink ones? -, collecting seashells from a beach/shore, malaysia/indonesia, milky skin, sad puppy eyes by default

alrighty mighty my beautiful pile three I KNOW everyone in this group has read something they perhaps didn’t like but please know it’s because your group is the most diverse one, so many energies came through. either way I hope you could still enjoy this pile 🤧 I would NEVER purposefully say anything to upset any of you. 🩶 thank you for reading.

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