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babyleostuff · 4 months ago

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svt calling you "my girl" | ot13

𝜗𝜚 theme: fluff 𝜗𝜚 pairing: svt x fem!reader

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

does cheol call you „my girl” just because it’s cute, or does he have a hidden motive behind it? of course, it’s technically very romantic to add the „my”, but let’s remember choi seungcheol is a slightly possessive and overprotective partner. not in like a toxic way, no no, but cheol has his moments, and if he could, he’d announce it to the whole world that you were his and his only. it’s also very reassuring for him to be able to call you that, it’s like his heart fills with even more love as he introduces you as „his girl” (if you’d ever call him „my man” cheol would pass out).

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

a part of him does it to tease you and see you blush, because he’s very much aware of how his words affect you. but as much as he does it to get a reaction out of you, hannie just loves how the „my girl” sounds. yeah, she’s mine - and that makes him so so fluffy and just 🥰. bonus points if he uses the „my girl” if he’s slightly jealous. the way he says the words so nonchalantly while having his arm wrapped around you is just chefs kiss.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

i’ll go a step further and say that shua calls you „my darling” or „my love”. he strikes me as someone who’s really into those type of pet names (especially darling), and come on, that’s so him. very endearing, very gentlemen-y, very old fashioned yet romantic. he doesn’t pay much attention to it anymore - calling you pet names with „my” before is like breathing for him, but it never fails to turn your legs into jelly when he does so. it’s just so… ugh. the „my” beforehand makes everything so much more intimate and romantic.

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

jun doesn't call you "my girl" that often, and definitely not in front of people he doesn't know, mainly because of his shyness. but the beautiful thing is - jun doesn't have to say anything for you to know that you are his and he is yours. he calls you “my girl” silently, in a way that only you can hear and understand, and that’s more important for jun - for you to know, he doesn’t need anyone else to hear it.

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

oh, soonyoung is PROUD and LOUD with his „my girl”. there’s nothing that could stop this man from announcing to literally everyone in the room that you’re his girlfriend (like - okay, we get it). though that mostly happens when he’s around people he knows or is at least acquaintances with, because hoshi is still our shy introvert at times. still, he makes sure to mention at least once that „oh, that’s my girl”. soonyoung can’t help himself.

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

wonwoo saying „my girl” is so endearing and entertaining at the same time. endearing because hello? being called „my girl” by the jeon wonwoo is everything you could’ve ever asked for. entertaining because wonwoo gets so red after he realises what he had just said. essentially, wonwoo says before he thinks, it’s like his brain quietly whispers „say it, say it, say it”, and well - he has no other choice but to do it. and that results in a very shy and very red jeon wonwoo.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

jihoon as we know is not the most affectionate person out there and prefers to express his love through actions not words, BUT that doesn't mean you will never hear the words "my girl" from him. he definitely doesn't throw his words to the wind, so if jihoon says "my girl" he means "my girl". he especially likes to call you that when he sees that someone is too close to you for his liking, it's the perfect way to say "stay away" without coming off as overprotective or possessive.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

seokmin is filled with so much love, so it's no wonder that the words "my girl" are common in your relationship. sometimes you feel like your boyfriend has forgotten your name, because unless he's mad at you, he calls you by some pet name. and even though he doesn't use "my girl" as often as "baby" or "honey", you know that these words are even more affectionate than anything else.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

it’s so obvious for gyu to address you as „his girl” because… you are his, so? how otherwise should he call you? „my girl” is so normal for mingyu, like - if he spots you in a crowd of people he immediately goes: „there’s my girl”, or if he’s talking about your plans for the weekend he naturally says: „oh, my girl and i are going out of town”. you always die for a second when you hear those words come out of his mouth, because the way he says them so effortlessly is so *smashing the keyboard*. but hearing that also makes you feel so confident, like yeah, i pulled him and he’s mine :)

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

another one that i’m sure would adore calling you „my love.” don’t get me wrong - „my girl” is fine as well, but for hao, who’s not the most out there with his physical touch and affection, „my love” is the perfect way to show you the love and adoration he has for you. it’s also so romantic, and cute (sometimes he finds the „babe” and „baby” a bit cringe). bonus points for calling you „my + chinese pet name” because that happens often as well.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

boo would love the idea of calling you “my girl” to tease you BUT in reality he gets so so shy and blushy (bonus points if he stutters), because come on… MY girl (infinite heart eyes), especially if he’s with people he doesn’t know that well. imagine his lil smile and blushy cheeks when he introduces you “oh yeah, and that’s my girl”. hello??? can we get married already??? it’s honestly very endearing, and the boys love to tease seungkwan for that.

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

he does it so casually that many people don’t catch the endearment in his voice, which to you and anyone that knows him is so so noticeable. vernon doesn’t call you “my girl” that often, but it’s only because it’s the highest form of affection for him, so he prefers to use it rarely but put all of his emotions into it when he does.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

he does it unconsciously, there’s no single thought in his mind when he calls you „my girl”. if someone was to ask him „why do you call her that?” chan would be like „like what?” (very confused puppy expression). the words „my girl” come so easily for him, it’s so natural which makes it even more endearing. besides, chan is a big big simp, and he loves you so much that he does not see another option but to call you „my girl”.

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puppyeared · 11 months ago

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i spent years asking myself why it felt shallow if i gave my ocs a design or personality that felt cliche or oversimplified and just now i remembered i watched hetalia in middle school

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

#also noelle holiday exists and has an xmas theme while managing to be a complex and deeply interesting character. which flat out proves that #those two things are mutually exclusive and absolutely exploded years of something i taught myself to believe. damn #for the record i. hate remembering that i watched hetalia and buried it so deep that i forgot abt it lol #but i always get mad at myself when it feels like not writing a character 'realistic' or giving them 'enough' depth is unacceptable #especially whenever i see someone talking abt people getting a character 'wrong' and pointing out smth i never thought of very meanly #unless its smth like making a fat character skinny or whitewashing or typecasting etc then yeah you have every right to be angry #also i didnt make hetalia so its fine #and!! everyones abilities are different. im not much of a writer so its hard for me to think abt how a character would interact with #others or act in a situation or even behave in general. also i suck at reading people #but im pretty open to learning because half of the time i didnt notice or even realize smth abt a character bc i just didnt know #i think part of my fear to write or draw badly comes from fear of getting a character wrong that i just find it hard to try at all #although its also on me to find information myself instead of relying on other ppl to correct me. and of course to the best of my ability #huh!#yapping #oc

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jessica-problems · 6 months ago

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Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

#aj oc #dungeons and dragons #D&D #ttrpg

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel�� seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

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brunchable · 1 month ago

Text

The Marriage Bet - Part Two

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant f!Reader

Themes/Warnings: Y/N in labor. Childbirth but NOT detailed, more focused on Bucky's presence and what he's doing.

Summary: How has a small bet lead to this? Y/N goes into labor and Bucky does everything he can to be as supportive as he could.

A/N: For those who asked for Part Two, this is for you ^_^ I hope it lived up to the expectations. . . I took inspiration from my own experience so yeah.

taggies: @rcarbo1 @ozwriterchick @mrsnikstan @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

You roll your eyes as Bucky keeps a skeptical gaze on you, watching you step up and down on the curb for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Doll, you’ve been at this for days. I’m starting to think this kid’s staging a sit-in,” he teases, leaning against the lamppost, arms crossed.

“Well, she’s not paying rent, so she doesn’t get to stay. Curb walking is happening whether she likes it or not,” you snap back, determination lacing your tone as you continue stepping. But deep down, you’re tired, exhausted from trying to nudge your body into labor.

Bucky grins, but he still offers you a hand as you make your way back toward the house. “I’m just saying, if I see you out here tomorrow morning, I’m calling the National Guard.”

You elbow him lightly. “Very funny, Buck. This baby’s coming today. I can feel it.”

When you both step inside the house, Alpine is on you immediately, practically glued to your legs, rubbing her soft, fluffy body against your ankles more persistently than usual. You frown, looking down at her.

“What’s with you today, girl?” you ask, gently shooing her away with your foot. But instead of backing off like she normally does, Alpine meows loudly and circles you again, her tail brushing against your legs.

“Hey, come on. What’s going on with you?” you murmur, reaching down to pet her. But Alpine’s not interested in affection—at least, not her usual kind. She rubs harder against you, weaving in and out between your legs, forcing you to shuffle to avoid tripping.

“Bucky, I think Alpine’s lost it,” you call out, trying to step away from her. But she follows, her constant meowing beginning to sound like scolding. You can’t help but feel like she’s trying to tell you something.

Bucky, in the kitchen, is half-hidden in the fridge, rummaging around for something. “Maybe she’s just mad you’re about to replace her as the center of attention,” he quips, not looking up from his snack hunt.

“Yeah, well, she can wait her turn,” you mutter, trying to step around Alpine. But the cat is relentless. She rubs against your legs even harder, circling you tighter, her meows getting louder. You try to move, but she darts in front of you, making you stumble.

“Seriously, Alpine, what is going on?” you huff, trying to sidestep her again, but it’s no use. She’s practically glued to you, brushing her entire body against you, her eyes wide and focused as she continues her odd dance around your feet. You glance at Bucky, now distracted by Alpine’s odd behavior.

Bucky looks up, finally noticing how insistent the cat is. “You think she knows something we don’t?” he asks, his tone shifting from playful to curious. “Animals have instincts about this kind of stuff, right?”

Before you can respond, Alpine meows again, louder this time, and you feel a sudden, sharp tightening in your belly. You stop in your tracks, your hands immediately going to your abdomen as the pain intensifies.

“Ooo, ow!” you gasp, bending over slightly as the contraction tightens your entire stomach. “Bucky!”

Bucky’s head shoots up from the fridge like a missile, his eyes wide. “What?! What happened? Are you okay?!” he blurts, slamming the fridge door shut. He’s by your side in seconds, almost slipping in his haste. “Is it time? It’s time, isn’t it?! Oh god, okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe.”

You clutch the edge of the counter, nodding through the pain. “I think… I think it’s happening.”

Alpine, still rubbing against you, lets out another loud meow, as if confirming your suspicion. You glance down at her, and for a moment, it’s as if the cat knows exactly what’s going on. She gives a final rub against your legs before darting out of the way, clearing the space for Bucky to swoop in.

Bucky’s eyes go even wider.

“Okay, okay, uh—hospital. We need to call the hospital.” He pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with the screen. He stabs at the screen with his thumb, almost dropping it in the process. “Where’s the number? Why don’t I have the number saved?!” he mutters to himself, glancing at you for reassurance as the line finally connects.

He paces as he talks to the hospital, his free hand anxiously running through his hair. “Yeah, hi, it’s… Y/N? Y/N Barnes? um, it’s happening. She’s in labor. What do we—what do I do? No, we’re at home, but we’re coming in—should we come in now? Or…? Okay. Okay, got it, yeah, we’ll head there in… five minutes? Yeah, five. Thanks.”

He hangs up, looking like he’s just run a marathon. “They said we can wait a bit until it gets stronger, but we can go now if you want. What do you wanna do?”

Before you can answer, another wave of pain washes over you, and you double over again, gripping the counter tighter. Alpine meows and brushes against your legs again as if trying to comfort you, her tail swishing with determination.

Bucky glances at Alpine, then back at you.

“Okay, bath! I’ll run you a warm bath. That’s what they said, right? Warm bath to relax? Just—stay right here, doll. I’ll handle this.” He bolts off toward the bathroom, slipping slightly but catching himself at the last second.

You hear him turning on the water, his voice slightly frantic. “Warm bath, warm bath. I can do this. Where are the towels? Of course, we have towels. Focus, Bucky. Towels, water, perfect.”

You chuckle softly, despite the growing discomfort, glancing down at Alpine, who is now sitting by your feet, watching you intently with those big, bright eyes.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you mutter, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She purrs loudly, as if proud of herself.

A moment later, Bucky’s back, nearly tripping over Alpine as he rushes to your side. “Okay, bath’s ready. Nice and warm. Let’s get you in there before another one hits,” he says, gently taking your arm and guiding you toward the bathroom.

Alpine follows behind, meowing in approval as Bucky helps you into the tub. The warm water does wonders to ease the tension, but the contractions are still coming, and you know it won’t be long.

Bucky kneels beside the tub, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and panic. “You okay? Should I call someone? Maybe I should recheck the bags. Oh, and snacks—I need to grab snacks.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You and your snacks, Bucky. We’ll be fine.”

Alpine, still close by, gives one final approving meow before curling up on the bathroom mat, keeping a watchful eye on both of you.

× × × ×

The car ride to the hospital was a blur—Bucky, in full mission mode, had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping yours as you breathed through each contraction. Every time you winced, his brow furrowed deeper, a mix of panic and determination on his face. Even as you swatted him away, insisting you didn’t need him hovering, he stayed glued to your side.

By the time you arrived at the hospital, Bucky had already called ahead, barking orders like he was leading a rescue mission. He parked the car, rushed around to your side, and had you in his arms before you could argue.

“No hero moves, Buck, I can walk,” you huffed, trying to push through another contraction, but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Not a chance. Just let me handle this, doll. I got you,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice cutting through the pain.

Inside the hospital, Bucky was glued to you—holding your hand, rubbing your back, scratching your head soothingly, offering water. Every contraction, every wince, he was there, wide-eyed, on alert. He spoke to the doctors, double-checked every word they said, like he was memorising their instructions for later. He wouldn’t even blink unless he was sure you were okay.

“Bucky, I’m fine. You need to relax,” you grumbled between deep breaths, squeezing his hand through another wave of pain.

“I’m relaxed! This is me, relaxed!” he responded, his voice a little too high to be convincing. He had one hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as if he could somehow ease the pain just by being there.

When another particularly strong contraction hit, making you groan in agony, Bucky’s face crumpled. He looked like he was ready to jump in and fight the pain for you only if he could.

"You're sure you don't want the epidural?" he asked, glancing at you as another contraction hit, his face creased with concern. You could see the tension in his jaw, his helplessness in not being able to take the pain from you. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

“No. I am doing this my way, okay?!” You shook your head, gripping his hand as the pain intensified, your voice coming out in a growl.

He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, no epidural. Got it. But if you change your mind, I can threaten someone. I can be very convincing."

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile through gritted teeth. “Pretty sure the nurses don’t need to see the Winter Soldier just because I’m in labor.”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Oh, come on. It’d make for a great story. I could throw my arm around, scare a few people… you know, just your typical Tuesday.”

Hours passed, and Bucky hadn’t moved from your side. He wouldn’t sit, wouldn’t close his eyes, despite you insisting—between contractions—that he at least take a nap.

“You’re gonna fall over if you don’t get some rest,” you grumbled, squeezing his hand through another wave.

“Fall over? Pfft, I don’t need sleep. I’m like a machine.” He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. But every time you winced, his whole body tensed, as if he could feel the pain with you. “You, on the other hand, are doing amazing. I mean, you’re practically doing this like a walk in the park. The park of… childbirth.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, resting your head back against the pillow. “That was terrible, Buck.”

He smiled wider.

“Was it? C’mon, don’t lie to me. You were laughing inside.” He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “I’m not leaving you.”

He looks at you with such fierce determination that you know there’s no convincing him otherwise.

“Besides, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. What if you need something? Or what if you crack and ask for that epidural?” He smirks, trying to lighten the mood.

You roll your eyes at him, wincing as another contraction comes. Bucky’s immediately there, squeezing your hand, pressing his forehead to yours as you breathe together.

“I’m serious,” you mutter when the pain subsides, “you need sleep.”

Bucky grins, though his eyes are soft with affection. “Sleep? Who needs sleep? I’m living on love right now, doll. And adrenaline.” He winks at you, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Who’s gonna be here to remind you how much of a badass you are?”

Despite the pain, you can’t help but laugh a little, which makes him smile even wider. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You know, this is probably a good time to tell you that you’re way stronger than me. I’d probably be begging for the epidural by now. And ice cream. Definitely ice cream.”

You snort, trying not to laugh too hard as another contraction builds. “Yeah, and I’d let you have the epidural just to shut you up.”

Bucky chuckles, but his smile fades as he watches you breathe through the pain again, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

He’s quiet for a moment, then softly whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You look up at him through heavy breaths, your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the world. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hand, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re doing so good, doll. I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

When the contraction finally passed, you slumped back, exhausted. Bucky’s fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead, his touch light as a feather.

“You want some ice chips? You want me to grab the doc again? Steal you another pillow? You name it, babe, and I’ll make it happen.”

Another contraction hit, and you groaned in pain, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him wince. But instead of complaining, he leaned down close, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, “you’ve got the strength of ten supersoldiers right now. You could probably take me down with just one hand. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help but snort through the pain, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the overwhelming sensation. “That’s… your idea of sexy?” you panted, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Hey, I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” he teased, winking at you in that playful Bucky way, trying to distract you from the pain. “And you, sweetheart, are the strongest woman I know.”

Even though the pain was still there, the tension in your shoulders eased just a little.

“See, that’s what I’m here for,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand as another contraction started building. “You focus on bringing our kid into the world, and I’ll keep trying to distract you with terrible jokes and my rugged good looks.”

“You’re lucky… I love you…” you muttered through the next wave of pain.

By the time the contractions were coming faster and more intense, Bucky was still right there, leaning close, murmuring encouragements. His fingers intertwined with yours, his other hand brushing through your hair as you worked through the pain.

“You’re doing amazing, doll. We’re almost there. I’m right here.”

He didn’t sleep, didn’t sit, not even when you begged him to rest. His only focus was you, and every time your face twisted in pain, his own features mirrored it. But somehow, even in the toughest moments, he kept trying to make you smile, whispering about baby names, promising to make up for every second of pain with the biggest, most elaborate breakfast you could dream of.

“We’ll get pancakes. Or waffles. Or pancakes and waffles. With ice cream. I’ll even eat kale if it’ll make you happy.”

When the doctor told you it was time, Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, you expected to see that familiar flicker of panic in his eyes. But it never came. Somehow, in the face of what was about to happen, Bucky remained steady, his expression calm and resolute. He didn’t waver. His focus was entirely on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes as you gathered the last of your strength.

The room bustled around you—nurses preparing, the doctor giving instructions—but it all seemed distant. The only thing grounding you was Bucky. His eyes never left yours, a silent strength radiating from him, as though he were willing to carry you through the final stretch. Every time the pressure built, every time the exhaustion weighed on you, Bucky was there, his presence unfazed, holding you steady as the moment grew closer.

Even as the intensity of labor reached its peak, he didn’t flinch. Not once. His grip remained firm but gentle, anchoring you in the chaos, his face composed, his breathing in sync with yours. He was there, unwavering, a rock against the storm. The room could’ve been crumbling around you, and Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.

His whole world was you.

Then, when the cry filled the room—the unmistakable sound of your baby’s first breath—it hit him like a tidal wave.

They placed her on your chest, and for a second, Bucky was still. He was looking at her—his daughter—for the very first time. His mouth opened slightly, and you saw his eyes widen in awe. His tough exterior began to crack, the strong front he had maintained throughout crumbling under the sheer weight of the moment.

Suddenly, Bucky turned away, almost abruptly, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Ugly crying. His hand left yours for the first time as he tried to rub the tears away, his back to you as he choked on his emotions. But he wasn’t fooling anyone. You could hear the soft sniffles as he struggled to pull himself together.

It only lasted a moment before he spun back around, tears still streaming down his face, though he tried—so hard—to stop them. The sight of him, attempting to be tough through the tears, was endearing and, in its own way, a little bit funny. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched as he looked at the baby resting on your chest.

He tried to smile through the sobs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but every time he looked at her—tiny, perfect, and so much a part of both of you—the tears came again, harder this time. He was completely undone, staring at his daughter with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was here, real, and his.

And though Bucky was crying harder than ever, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears mingling with yours, both of you laughing at the raw, overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He was a mess, but a happy mess—ugly crying through the most beautiful moment of your lives. And, despite it all, he never let go of your hand.

× × × ×

When you and Bucky finally stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your place welcomed you back. It was strange being home with Julianna now, like the world had shifted but stayed the same. You glanced at Bucky, who was carrying the capsule carefully, his expression softer than usual.

Alpine was the first to greet you. As soon as the door opened, she trotted over, her tail swishing with curiosity. She stopped at your feet, looking up at both of you expectantly, as if asking, “So, what did you bring back?”

Bucky set the capsule down gently on the floor, his movements slow and careful.

“Look who’s here, Alpine,” he said, glancing down at the cat with a smile tugging at his lips. “We brought someone new.”

Alpine inched closer, her nose twitching as she inspected the carrier with cautious curiosity. Bucky crouched beside the capsule, lifting the cover slightly so the cat could get a closer look. Julianna stirred inside, her tiny face peaceful, nestled in blankets.

Alpine took a few tentative steps forward, her nose brushing against the edge of the blanket. She sniffed softly, clearly curious but cautious, still unsure about what exactly this new little human was.

Bucky smiled, watching Alpine for a moment before reaching down and gently lifting Julianna out of the capsule. He cradled her carefully in his arms, glancing at you for reassurance before holding her closer to Alpine.

“Come on, girl, get a good sniff. She’s your new sister.”

Alpine paused, her eyes wide as she leaned in to sniff Julianna’s soft, downy head. The cat's whiskers twitched, her nose brushing against the baby’s tiny forehead as she took in the new scent. Julianna stirred slightly, but her eyes stayed closed, her peaceful expression unchanged.

After a long, curious sniff, Alpine let out a soft, sweet meow as if giving her approval. Then, to your surprise, she rubbed herself affectionately against Bucky’s legs, purring gently, as if acknowledging that her place in the family was safe.

You watched the whole interaction, a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something sweetly funny about seeing this big, tough Bucky Barnes gingerly presenting his newborn daughter to a cat, as if it were some kind of sacred introduction.

Bucky chuckled, glancing down at Alpine as she rubbed against him again, her purring growing louder. “Looks like she approves of you too, kid,” he murmured to Julianna.

Satisfied with her inspection, Alpine backed up a few steps, her tail swishing lazily. She sat down nearby, watching with half-lidded eyes as if content that all was well in her world.

Bucky stood up carefully, cradling Julianna in his arms and grinning at you. “Looks like she passed the test,” he said, his voice soft, but with that usual Bucky charm. He glanced down at the baby, his eyes softening even more.

“Welcome home, Jules.”

× × × ×

Bonus scene: Flashback - A few months earlier…

You were lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Bucky’s lap as he absentmindedly massaged your ankles. A notebook was open on the coffee table in front of you, filled with scribbles of baby names. None of them felt right so far, and you were both at your wits’ end.

“Alright,” Bucky said, tapping his fingers on your leg, “we gotta figure this out. This kid’s gonna be here soon, and we can’t just call them ‘Hey, you.’” He gave you a crooked smile, but you could tell he was dead serious about the baby name situation.

You sighed, flipping through the pages of the notebook. “I know, but nothing seems to fit. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Bucky looked up thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. “How about... Buck Jr.?”

You stared at him for a solid second, deadpan. “Buck Jr.? Really? What if it’s a girl?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Then... Buckletta.”

You burst out laughing, nearly kicking him in the stomach with the way your feet jerked. “Buckletta? Are you serious?”

Bucky shrugged with a smug grin. “Hey, it’s versatile. Buck Jr. for a boy, Buckletta for a girl. Easy.”

“I am not naming our child Buckletta!” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. “That sounds like a medieval torture device.”

Bucky smirked, leaning back on the couch. “Fine, fine. What about something... strong? Like, you know, a name that’s got some weight to it.”

“Okay, hit me with it,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

“Rock,” he said with confidence.

“Rock?” You blinked, wondering if he was messing with you, "Already with the Dad jokes?"

“Yeah! Think about it. No one’s gonna mess with a kid named Rock Barnes,” Bucky explained, grinning as if he had just come up with the best name in history. “It’s tough. It’s solid.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “We are not naming our baby after an inanimate object!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? But you like Ruby.”

“Ruby’s a gemstone, Bucky. It’s different,” you argued, trying to hold back a laugh.

He finally laughed along with you, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! I'll stop. But we still need a real one, so...” He grabbed his phone back from you, scrolling through the list with a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Okay, let’s see... Princess Consuela Bananahammock?”

You smacked his arm, laughing again. “Are you picking names from Friends now?”

Shaking your head, you leaned over and grabbed the notebook, flipping to a clean page. “Okay, how about something more traditional? Like... Hazel for a girl?”

Bucky paused, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. “Hazel? I like that. It’s... nice.” He nodded thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea.

“Yeah?” you smiled, glad that you’d finally stumbled onto something that wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“Yeah, Hazel’s good. But what about a boy’s name?” Bucky asked, shifting to a more serious tone.

You thought for a moment.

“What about James?” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.

He immediately shook his head. “No way. Too many bad memories tied to that name.”

You frowned, understanding. “Alright, then something classic but strong... like Julian?”

Bucky tilted his head, considering it. “Julian’s not bad. Strong, but not too over the top. I could see that.”

“And it works for a girl, too. Julianna,” you added with a smile.

Bucky’s face lit up. “Julianna Hazel Barnes.” He let the name roll off his tongue, testing it out. “That actually sounds really nice.”

You grinned, feeling like you were getting somewhere. “Right? It’s got a good flow.”

He nodded, then leaned back against the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But seriously, you’re sure we’re ruling out Buckletta?”

You threw a pillow at his head, laughing. “Absolutely. 100% no to Buckletta.”

Bucky caught the pillow and chuckled. “Okay, okay, no Buckletta. But just so you know, if we ever get another cat, I’m naming her Buckletta.”

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kingkaizen · 6 months ago

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𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓭

∘ desc: various scenarios on how the jjk men treat you during that time of the month

∘ ft: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, + toji

∘ includes: blood, suggestive themes (toji)

Gojo

↠ Gojo always finds himself completely unprepared when your time of the month comes around

↠ He usually finds himself being your errand boy and getting everything that you need

“Babe, what size pussy do you have?”

You sat on the couch with the phone on speaker in disbelief. The amount of times that Gojo has seen the exact pack of pads that you wear and still couldn’t remember is unbelievable. “Satoru. I hope you know that they aren’t based on how big your vagina is.”

Gojo stared at the large array of pads in confusion. “I surely hope not because these overnight ones look very scary.”

“Please just get the third size for me,” you sighed, already feeling your headache coming on.

“Okay baby, I’ll be there soon alright? I’ll pick up those chocolates that you like and maybe some ice cream too.” Gojo hurriedly made his way around the store to pick up everything else that you’d need.

“That would be great, thank you” you replied, throwing your head back against the end of the couch as you waited for Gojo to come back and take care of you.

Geto

↠ Geto is a very mature man and things like periods don’t make him squeamish at all

↠ He understands why you could be embarrassed about having it in front of him but he tries to calm those nerves as much as he can

From the moment you opened your eyes, you could feel an immense amount of pain coming from your abdomen. With the pain in your lower back mixed with the sticky feeling between your legs, you already knew what was happening. However, it came a little early this month and you unfortunately weren’t even in your own bed. Embarrassment washes over you quickly as you turned to look at your boyfriend sound asleep next to you. You slowly nudged him awake.

“Suguru, I’m sorry” you whispered quietly as he opened his eyes, pupils making their way to his ruined sheets underneath you. Without even missing a beat, he got up and went straight into the bathroom.

Your first thought was that he was either about to throw up from seeing your blood on the sheets or he was too mad to even speak to you. Regardless, you sat there, too uneasy to even move. Before you could overthink any longer, you could hear the bathtub running as Geto made his way back to you.

“Let’s get these clothes off of you, princess.” He kissed your forehead as he helped you rise from his bed, peeling your night outfit off of you slowly. He led you to the now perfectly warm bathtub, helping you get in.

“Are you mad at me?” You felt so ashamed of yourself in this moment, not even able to look at him in his eyes. His fingers rested underneath your chin as he lifted your head to look at him.

“Why would I be mad at you for something so natural?” He kisses you again, a peck on the lips this time. “My sheets are temporary, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Nanami

↠ Nanami is complete boyfriend material when you’re on your period

↠ He has the tracker on his phone so that he knows ahead of time and is prepared

↠ He always has your favorite snacks and things ready for when it’s time

Walking into your shared home with your boyfriend after getting off from work, the last thing that you expect is to see him sitting on the couch, blankets folded next to him with some popcorn and a movie ready to play. Nanami always manages to do things like this for you, being incredibly attentive to your needs.

“Babe, what is all of this for?” You ask as you take off your shoes, watching as he walks towards you to shower you in kisses.

“I know you’re probably in a bit of pain so I wanted to make sure you could relax as soon as you got home today.” He helps you take off your coat before leading you over to the couch. He brings some wine from the kitchen before sitting down next to you.

“Thank you, my love.” You give him a sweet kiss before snuggling up against his warm body, feeling his arms wrap around you. He starts the movie, rubbing your tummy, the heat from his hand feeling incredibly soothing.

“How did you even know that I was on my period babe?”

“I track it on the app sweetheart. I like to be prepared, you know.”

Sukuna

↠ sukuna cannot stand when this time of the month rolls around

↠ he hates having to deal with your constant mood swings but he still tries his best to not catch an attitude with you

↠ this is the only time that he will ever allow you to boss him around, just for a little while

“RYOMEN!” you scream at the top of your lungs for the third time, growing increasingly impatient by the second. You’re laying in bed, cuddling up against your pillow as your face cringes in pain. Your cramps feel as though they’re getting worse by the second, annoying you to no end.

“What, woman.” Sukuna strolls into the room, chocolate covered strawberries in hand. “You wanted me to make these for you yet you’re rushing me back in here.” He places them down next to you, hand calmly rubbing your back. “What is it now?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Ryo’.” You pout at him, “I feel like such a bother to you, do you hate me now?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes at your dramatic question, sighing in response. “I could never hate you. You’re my queen and I’ll do anything for you, no matter how bitchy you’re being.”

“I’m sorry,” you could feel yourself tearing up at the thought of being mean to your boyfriend, “I’m just in so much pain.”

“Shhh, just lay down and eat your strawberries.” Sukuna picks one up and guides it to your mouth as you take a bite. He reaches for the remote to turn on your favorite show before getting up to leave the room once again. “Just relax while I go get you some more water.”

“But, I want to cuddle” you request in a pleading tone, tilting your head to the side in persuasion as you tap the empty spot on the bed next to you.

“Fine, just don't complain that you're thirsty in two minutes."

Toji

↠ Toji has dealt with his fair share of girlfriends and periods

↠ This time of the month usually marks a very happy time for him as he realizes that you are in fact not pregnant

↠ Regardless of that, he ensures that you’re okay in the best way that he can

“I’m officially not pregnant!” You smile as you walk into the kitchen where Toji is cooking, walking up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Got your period huh? I’m actually a little disappointed.” Toji replies, putting a top over the rice that’s currently on the stove before turning around to face you. He gives you a kiss on your forehead before lifting you up on the counter.

“Oh please, all you tell me is how much you don’t want another kid, you should be celebrating.” You roll your eyes at your him, watching the smirk slowly creep up onto his face. His large hands grip your hips, massaging them firmly.

“From the way things went last time, I’m surprised that you don’t have a little one in there.” He smiles, placing a hand on your tummy.

“You gonna let me try again?”

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spidey-webs · 3 months ago

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The real tragedy of the whole “Batman contingency plans” thing escaping containment into the wider cultural zeitgeist is that it’s become completely divorced from the original context of, you know, the Tower of Babel story-line happening after a beloved member of the Justice League did in fact go mad, become all-powerful, and destroy all of reality.

Which is devastating because it loses so much when you take Hal Jordan out of it! In both adaptations and fan discussions!

Despite only being mentioned by name once in the story, Hal haunts the whole narrative in how unspoken he is. The whole theme of the story is the failure to communicate and how it destroys trust, and an essential part of that is how the whole League won't (and can't) talk about Hal.

When Kyle finally tries to bring him up, Wally shoots him down. He is the forbidden topic at the heart of the League's breakdown of trust!

When the contingency plans plot is removed from the context of Hal's fall from grace, isn't proceeded by a JLA founding member doing what was supposed to be unthinkable, Bruce's actions lose their emotional core. It becomes just "Batman is the coolest and smartest and also a huge untrusting asshole" instead of "Bruce was already on the knife-edge of crippling paranoia regarding his powerful allies, and then one of those same allies started slaughtering people and he couldn't do a thing to stop it, confirming all his worst fears and sending him right over the edge"

You take Bruce's feelings of very personal betrayal out of the equation. He's not operating on just hypotheticals, but fears that were heartrendingly justified!

Bruce claims the reason for his plans on some past mind-control incident, but Clark calls Bruce out on it being an excuse.

Maybe that's how it started, but there's a reason the fail-safes aren't against mind-control and possession. The fail-safes are ways to permanently stop your friends should they willingly or unwillingly become a threat.

And they both know it. They've argued about Hal several times before.

Bruce has a lot of unresolved feelings about Hal. He's still hurting.

The contingency plans are not some cold, clinical necessity. They are the product of pain.

I think all readings and tellings of the Tower of Babel should be followed by the JLA/Spectre story.

It provides the necessary emotional conclusion to the unspoken conflict! Because they finally have to talk about it! They heal the broken trust! Bruce admits how much Hal's betrayal hurt him and his faith in heroes, and gets past it! Instead of letting a former and potential future threat be eliminated as his fail-safes say he should, he invites the threat back, even if he can't guarantee it won't happen again, because he chooses to believe in his friend!

The contingency plans are a cool and interesting concept, but again, you can't just...take Hal out of it. You can't make it about some evil alternate versions, or about Clark. By doing that, you lose the most heartbreaking part of the story. Batman isn't in the right or the wrong, but he's not heartless. He's brokenhearted.

#bruce wayne #batman #green lantern #hal jordan #i dont know what to tag this lmao #just mad ravings about the emotional through-line of the comics #i just have many thoughts about hal and parallax

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nicromancytarot · 9 months ago

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ALL ABOUT YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE 18+ themes, lots of information!!

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

(This took me 3 days lmao, please like, follow and reblog)

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to know about your future spouse, pick a pile to find out!!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1 (TW sexual abuse)

“I need to take time for myself” “let’s take this to the next level” “i don’t want anyone else”

Their appearance

I’m seeing lighter hair, light brown to a blonde-white, I’m seeing they may have muscles, or just a nicely toned body. It also looks like their back may be very prominent to their appearance, they may work out extra to achieve really nice back muscles. They could honestly have a large top half and skinny bottom half (Miguel O’Hara for example.) I’m seeing someone quite tall, they may have an interesting shaped head, like not in a bad way, it might just appear more prominently on them. For a guy, long third leg.. (They allowed me to say this one.) Possible big ears, or maybe even wears earrings or something to highlight them. The right side of their face is the best for them lmao, they might pose showing their right side for pictures.

About them

They‘ve have been through some hardships in their life, they’ve been fucked over pretty bad in the past, and while they don’t like to dwell on it, I wanted to bring it up. It’s seeming like they may have gone through sexual assault, I’m seeing that they used to appear quite sexualised in the past, something they did themself, however, someone close to them felt valid enough to abuse their power and cause harm to your partner through their self-expression. This hurt your partner a lot, they’re still healing, I’m heading “please take your time with me” when it comes to sex, they have some extreme vulnerability about it, they need you to understand that; they’re begging me not to sexualise them, and they’re asking you nicely to do the same, give them the respect that someone thought was ok to steal from them.

Due to this mass betrayal, they appear very closed off to new love, they have a lot of people that want them, and fawn over them, but this situation has completely made them turn a blind eye to those who see them. It will take you a while to crack this person open, however once you do, it will be more than worth it.

They will be very slow to start this connection with you, but once they are sure that you can be trusted, and they feel safe around you, they will set up camp by your side, and they don’t plan on leaving.

Their career

They’re very financially successful, but I see that this took them a while, I think they began building up financial abundance due to wanting their family to be there for them, and take notice in their achievements.

In work I think they may be underestimated, appearing as the lioness, I can only be reminded of the over glamorisation of lions, and the societal irrelevancy of lionesses, even though they do more for the lion population than the lion, as a collective do for themselves. Unfortunately this being said, I see they are idolised for their body, rather than their talents (I’m getting Sidney Sweeney, and Vinnie Hacker for this, both talented people, who are only seen as pieces of meat, or some type of chew toy.) Your person is really disrespected and it’s making me so mad, man. They’re trying their hardest to break out of the stereotype, however I feel as though there are colleges of theirs that constantly sexualise them, making them feel very uncomfortable. Again, I’m getting the same message as before, they are yearning for someone to treat them like a human being, and not just a vessel of sex organs.

Their family

Mentioned prior, they do not have the best relationship with their family, I think there’s some deep-rooted and ínstense trauma from possible childhood, I see they were the type of child to get all perfect grades to try and impress, and make their parents proud, however I don’t think it worked. Their parents seem very self focused and absorbed in their own life, and business.

They assumed that becoming even more successful, making a name for themself, earning masses of money would make their family proud, but it never worked.

They may have cut their family out of their life, or they are considering it. If they don’t decide to cut their family off, it most likely comes from hope and fear, they are scared that their family won’t notice all their biggest achievements if they cut them out, and they hope that eventually they will be able to achieve something big enough so their family is proud of them. They blame themself a lot for “not being enough” and not making them proud.

How they are in bed

I was not able to get much for this, but I do see that they need to really be able to trust you fully before getting into bed with you, they need a lot of time and reassurance, they really need you to understand their fears. The first time you guys have sex, you may unintentionally bring up some hidden wounds, they’re telling me to tell you not to worry, they’ll look into your eyes and it’ll be gone. They may need eye contact the first time, they need that constant reminder that it’s you, and that you won’t hurt them.

They gave me a few explicit messages, so for that I got

“Cum on your face”

“Make a sex tape” (I feel like they would burn this onto a hard drive and keep it in a place only they know about, only showing you if you asked them to.)

“Food play”

When I got these messages, I had a fan on so I needed to put the papers under something so they didn’t fly away, I unknowingly put them under the chariot card, so I’m really getting again that you will need to work for this. The chariot was also the only sexual illustration I got.

Another thing is that they don’t want you telling your friends about your guys sex lives, they don’t want more people to sexualise them.

They also may finish very fast the first time, this could be out of sensation since I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a very long time by the time you guys meet and start dating.

Their love language

Acts of service, they enjoy doing things for the people that they care about, unfortunately it seems this has stemmed from their neglecting childhood, they feel as though they must do something for someone to feel loved. They do not quite understand that love is not a give to receive, you may have to be the one to teach them this. Your future spouse only believe people will love them if they do something for that person in return.

Quality time, they like to be with the people they care about, i’m seeing two people sat in silence on some arm chairs, one person is resting their head on their arm while scrolling aimlessly on their phone, meanwhile the other is reading a book, holding it with one hand as the other plays with the hand belonging to their counterpart, their fingers tracing the skin of their lover’s hand gently, fingers only just intertwining.

Their shadows

Your future spouse does not see their own self worth, they do not value themself as a person, or even a creator, whatever they do in life, they are a very creative and diverse person, yet they don’t feel that way. It’s as if they suffer from imposter syndrome, they never feel worthy of their achievements, because no one ever made them feel as though their success mattered.

They can be very closed off with their feelings, they become resentful towards their emotions and just wish they could rip the feelings from their body. They may say things they don’t mean in the moment, mostly because they don’t feel worthy of your love, but as soon as they realise what they have done, they will bring you to their chest and hug you tightly.

This reaction will never escalate further than a shout of anger.

I sense they might refuse therapy, you may have a lot of arguments about this, they try to tell themself that they do not need therapy, but this is mainly because they fear they will be laughed at, for coming to this person with trauma that even they struggle to understand, even after having gone through it. I would encourage you to try your best to get them to go to therapy, maybe even both of you together so you can get to know each other on a more intimate level.

Please be gentle with them my pile 1, they are truly a blessing of a soul.

PILE 2

“I’m not ready” “you’re too good for me” “let’s take this to the next level” (you may have been attracted to pile 1, if so maybe go check it out.)

Their appearance

Lighter hair, for a select few of you, it’s black. I think they might have longer hair, and like to wear it up, or they enjoy covering their head with a hat or other accessories. I’m getting medium height, maybe even shorter than you, or possibly only a little taller than you. I think they enjoy dressing more provocative, perhaps having shirt buttons undone, or just not wearing a shirt at all, they really like their body, and they know they have a good one. If they have abs, I would say they are there but quite faint, not toned, just enough to show. Their hair could be curly, or it’s just the first thing you notice when you meet them. I’m getting pirate vibes, they might dress up more like a pirate honestly, buttoned down blouses, a bandana on their head, their hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. The area of their nose, lips, philtrum, and chin is very prominent, a main focal point on their face. Their eyes make them look tired and drunk, the classic sleepy eyes. They may wear a lot of jewellery, specifically gold. Their skin seems more into the tanner tones for the dark haired individuals, they may be part of the latino/a community. For the people with lighter hair, I see they could be based around Europe.

About them

I hate fuelling delusions like this, but multiple cards are pointing to this person being an ex, it seems like they had your heart at one point and came back for more, after having messed up the first time. They do seem very remorseful for their previous mistakes, they want you to know that they were naive and selfish, they didn’t know how to treasure something as important, and valuable as your love, however they want you to know that they are ready now. I see they could have cheated on you in the past, left you for another person, or just been toxic with you, and just treated you badly. Please take in mind that I do not want you to get back with any super shitty ex, you have free will so don’t do that, however I do think this person has changed for the better. With the chariot, and hanged man, I’m seeing they worked on themself to be able to be good for you, it may have taken them a few years.

For those of you who’s future spouse is not an ex, I would say that the first time you guys met, there was a sense of competition and it turned you completely off from them, or they just came across rude, and arrogant while trying to impress you, and you just weren’t feeling it. They’re coming back around to show you how serious they actually are about making this relationship with you work. They will need some time, one sided enemies to lovers lmao.

Their career

I feel as though they have a good amount of material wealth, they seem to have everything they could desire, they could be a little bit of a workaholic, which possibly can cause some drama between you, you will need to remind them of how important spending time together is, they will listen, they are always willing to compromise with you.

Their job is one filled with a lot of competition, I’m honestly getting technology, they could work with technology, they could be under a tech company position, or maybe they even work from home doing their own thing on their computer.

They can appear secretive when it comes to their job, they’re not trying to keep it a secret, or hidden from you, they simply just don’t really think to talk about it that much. Lowkey, they could be a moderator for some type of famous streamer, (lmao??) or they could work in a position where they help people with managing publicity, like an agent or something.

This job does seem interesting, but it does come across a little like they do it more so for the money, than for an actual enjoyment that they find. Some of them do enjoy their job, but I don’t think they would stick with it, if it didn’t offer them the money and exposure that it does.

Their family

I honestly feel like it was their family’s influence that got them to start working on themself, I get the sense that their mother was possibly the one to force them into therapy, she may have even sat through his first session lol.

I think he’s mainly closest to the woman in his family, I’m getting a close friendship with their 1-2 sisters, possibly older, rather than younger. Im getting that they see them a little puppy that needs training, if you guys get into an argument, and they go to their sisters, the oldest one would be quick to correct your future spouse on their mistakes, and convince them to talk to you again and apologise for whatever they did.

Their family love you, if it’s a second chance scenario, they are so happy that you guys get another chance at loving each other, they truly want you to stay part of their family.

I’m seeing a young girl, possibly around the age of 5-6, you will be very close to her, I’m feeling it’s a niece or cousin, who is constantly around when you visit the rest of the family.

How they are in bed

They honestly appear quite vanilla, all bark no bite to be honest, they will say the flirtiest things to you, and they appear quite sexual, but once you get into the bedroom, they become all shy and reserved, there is a potential for you to bring them out of their shell however.

I’m seeing that sex for them is more-so about their own pleasure, they can seem a bit selfish during sex because of this, they may also see it as a way to compete with others, I’m hearing “I have them in a way that no one else ever will,” they may deal with a little bit of jealousy when it comes to your relationship, they are you as a very desired person, so they worry that someone will steal you away from them, being intimate with you is like proof to them that you are there’s and no one else could have you in such a compromising position.

They may finish really fast, I’m seeing someone who is struggling to keep their attraction in, the way your eyes penetrate into theirs will have them a stuttering mess, unexpectedly pushing them to their climax, though I feel like you will be nowhere near your own. You may need to help them with how to pleasure you, so you also reach your destination!

They could be a virgin, they don’t seem very experienced, they may have even waited for marriage, so this could be the night of your wedding.

They’re on top, it makes them feel more masculine and in charge of the situation, I also think they need to be able to pick their own pace to make sure they don’t overwhelm themself the first time.

They will be bursting with anticipation every time you initiate something with them.

They may have a desire to watch you touch yourself, they know about the important places of pleasure for people of your gender, however they don’t know exactly how to treat those places, so they may ask you to touch yourself to show them, this could lead to an intense session of mutual masterbation, for the select few of you, this will come before your wedding, they’ll ask you about how they should pleasure you on your wedding night, and you will show them, they will get into the mood as well and join you in the bed, this will almost make them cave in and take you there and then.

“Pull my hair”

“You make me so hard/wet”

“Let me taste”

Their open to whatever you’re into, just give them time to adjust to the new sensations of sex first, before you spring any random kinks onto them.

Their love language

Physical touch, they enjoy being around you and putting their hands on you at any chance they get, they like to hold your hand, to wrap their arms around your waist, they just like how you feel under their touch, if they feel like they’re working too much, they will invite you to sit with them, possibly on their lap so they can have you with them.

They like their bare skin to touch yours, I don’t think they sleep with much on, maybe shirtless with a pair of underwear, they will press their front of your back, making sure their bare chest hits your bare back, and back of shoulders.

Gift giving, they like to buy you things, I think it’s in a way of trying to make up for how they treated you in the past, they use their money to prove to you how serious they are about you and their relationship with you, they’re very possessive of their material wealth, so sharing it with you is something massive, and unexpected. If you see something in the store window, they’ll notice you even as much as glanced at it, and they will make sure it belongs to you in no time.

Their shadows

Their can appear a little selfish at times, I think they’ve had to protect and defend themself all their life, so now they feel as though shutting people out and not letting them in is the best answer to cure and keep away any upcoming insecurities.

Your future spouse needs to lose things to understand how much they actually mean to them, they don’t appreciate things enough until it’s taking away from them, luckily for them, they tend to work hard enough to manage to get this back, ensuring that it will never be taken away again.

Their downplay their transformations, they don’t exaggerate, but honestly the complete opposite, they feel as though their past and their future and two completely different identities, they need constant reminders that their success is still their success, no matter how long ago it was.

PILE 3

“I don’t want anyone else” “do you feel the same?” “you’re the only one I want in my life” (again, you could’ve also been attracted to pile 1, I wouldn’t recommend going back up however, I think it may have been the warning that caught your eye rather than the pile itself!)

Their appearance

I’m getting chestnut brown, to black hair, for a woman, it’s casts down her back, quite long. For a man, It’s around medium length, maybe just above their shoulders. Their back is very prominent in this pile, I feel like they have nicely defined back muscles, however I do not think they are an incredibly muscular person. They could honestly dress more punk/emo, wearing black leather jackets which are decorated, and bedazzled with silver spikes, I do see a possibility for a more alternative style for men, feminine outifts for women, types of styles that accentuates their hips and bust.

They might like going outside a lot, they’d be the type to suggest a camping trip, so they wear clothes that are suitable, and durable for being outside for extended periods of time. Big black boots is another thing I’m getting, their hair could also be spiked up for a select few of you. (I’m honestly picking up Johnnie Gilbert similarities for this pile, maybe Johnnie’s future wife is watching, and they just don’t know, that’s crazy.)

About them

They know better than to overwork themself, they may be the type that needs to mentally recharge after being around people for too long, they also seem to take in a lot of energy when around people, they’re like a little portable charger, however this does mean that they get burnt out very quickly. Luckily, they are not one to ignore the signals of their body and mind, so if they need to rest and be alone for a little, they will do that, this can however make them appear a tad aloof.

I don’t think they’re the best at expressing their emotions, they keep them hidden for a reason, I believe out of fear of judgment, or getting hurt again. I’m seeing someone who may have been cheated on by an ex partner, I don’t imagine they got closure on whatever this situation was, if it wasn’t cheating, it was some type of intense betrayal. They may appear a bit condescending at times, this is their way of trying to push you away before you find out about their feelings, they weirdly think you will leave them or condemn them for showing any natural, human emotion.

Their hardworking in all areas of their life, mainly self improvement, they want to become the best version of themself, so their partner can be comfortable with them. I do see that they will have a dramatic change of circumstance, or just who they are as a person, around the time that they meet you, which would be done for you, or for some of you, they will improve themself right before you guys meet, this change in their life will bring you to them.

Their career

They have a job where their workload and work time is flexible, they have the ability to not work one day, and pick up the work the next day if they so please. This is good because it means they will be making sure they always have time for you, to make you feel appreciated.

Their job is focused around nurturing responsibility, they are a leader of their area, but not a leader overall, they may have some type of job where they have to be a role model for people of a younger age, mild fame or influencing is showing strongly (bro which one of you are Johnnie’s wife, this is getting too specific.)

The job brings in a lot of material abundance, I don’t see they have to worry about too much, other than understanding that their work can be overwhelming, and that they need to pace themself, allowing themself to take breaks is super important with this pile.

It’s a job that offers them long term stability, and more money with the higher their position gets, if this person is mildly famous, or some type of influencer, the more fame and fans they gain, the more money they will be raking in, however they do need to remember where their loyalties lie, and always make sure to appreciate the fandom that gave them what they have now.

Their family

Their family are so different from them lmao, like polar opposites, I’m seeing the sweetest mother who always makes baked goods, sometimes they can appear a little interesting, but taste good nonetheless. Their father calls them by a nickname which your future spouse hates, their father is really sweet, I’m getting someone a little more laidback, who would rub your partners hair to mess it up for absolutely no reason.

You will feel very welcome into this family, they do not discriminate since their son/daughter/child has gone through some intense stuff in their life, and they are just thankful that you are able to bring them security, and safety, your person could’ve struggled badly with mental health, and it may have worried their family, so their parents are super happy that you’re able to keep them happy. However, please remember that someone’s mental health is not your responsibility solely.

How they are in bed

I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a while before you guys got together, I think they may have done some type of sexual cleanse, they were possibly a fuck boy/girl in the past, so they quit it to help themself improve and be the best version of themself.

They may need a little while to really get ready to be intimate with you, it might come as a conversation that the two of you share, explaining that you would like to have sex with them, and them setting a date for it so nothing can go wrong. I see them prepping by shaving their entire body lmao, they’re going all out, if it’s a man, they’re going to get so many cuts in all the wrong places, and they will definitely complain about it to you. They do expect you to be as prepared as they are, so get yourself ready, find yourself a nice, new perfume and get to it.

I do not think they will have sex with you outside of the relationship, I feel as though they have so many sexual requests from people, it makes them feel only valuable for their body, they don’t want to be seen as just a warm body that you get to lay under, the first time you are intimate with them. You have to prove yourself before sex, and even then, it may take a while. I’m getting around eight to ten months after dating, they really don’t want to be fooled and used for their body, especially after their sexual cleanse.

They like to be on top, they may honestly end up sweating and shivering at the end of it, like that one scene from Titanic when Jack is shaking in the carriage while laying on top of Rose with a blanket.

The sex will get progressively more rough and interesting over time, but the first time is just pure love making.

“Look into my eyes”

“Fuck you silly”

“Tie you up”

I’m getting that they will need aftercare more than you will, while both of you will be giving it to each other, they are a lot more in need of it, I feel like you would be fine to just go into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, meanwhile they desire to be in your arms for the next couple of hours.

Their love language

Physical touch, they need to be at least holding your hand at all times, they would lowkey like to wear a lipstick stain you created on their cheek or jaw, they like people to know that you are theirs, and they are yours. They may also really like when you give them hickeys, they will absolutely allow those to be on show for everyone to see, they are too proud to hide them. They like to hold your stomach? Perhaps it’s when you sleep, they like to rest their hand on your stomach, or perhaps they want to get you pregnant, they may be very serious about having kids sometime in the future.

Words of affirmation, they really appreciate when you tell them how good they look, or how the outfit they’re wearing is amazing on their body. They specifically enjoy your compliments, you have a way with explaining things, that makes it seem so much more authentic and honest, they trust your judgment a lot. I do see they have a tendency to feel very insecure, and although so many people tell them how beautiful they are, your future spouse struggles to believe them, thinking it’s some kind of sick joke, but they know you would never joke or make fun of them about that. You’ll be very surprised to find out about their insecurities, you may even think they’re playing with you the first time they mention it, this could make them feel invalidated, so be careful how you tackle this!

Their shadows

They constantly ignore their problems, they have an “out of sight, out of mind” way of thinking, which is just barbaric because it means they don’t sort through their issues and instead push them out of the way. You may need to help them with healing from some past trauma, and realising that they are allowed to feel hurt and anger from those past situations, as they were not at all ideal.

Your future spouse is quick to push people away when they feel as though they’ve said too much, and opened up more than they desired to, due to this, there may be a few times when you feel helpless, and they seem helpless, this is something you can work through together.

They get very defensive, very quickly, if you say something that unintentionally triggers them, they will shut off, going into some type of hermit mode until they feel ready to talk about whatever it is that bothered them.

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