#wants to be everything to a1

[hcnnibal]

When did A2 realize his feelings towards A1 were more/different than brotherly?

i think since a1 has been the only person a2 has felt… like.. any sort of attachment to at all, he can’t really tell the difference? like he just. loves a1 every way you can possibly love a person

[runningupthatvecna]

pip the magician

[flowerofmayhem-personal]

I actually much prefer a lot of how studio VOLN is handling Blue Exorcist over A-1, I know not a popular opinion in areas and get the places people say looks off but the vibes and heart is so good? also there is a lot of amazing shots and imo calling Rin "ugly" in it is an exaggeration to me, there's some wonky shots but there's also SO MANY he looks great! I think sometimes people forget that A-1 had equally bad shots and design choices like I think a lot are looking at the older seasons through rose colored glasses personally! not to mention they ruined a lot of scenes and how they changed them/adjusted them in their adaption that to me affected characterization and making some of the cast look almost dumb in a situation the manga version shows was more serious and dire!

ultimately my view has been: I'd rather an adaption feel like the heart is in the right place and the characters feel like themselves vs everything being pretty all the time and would rather deal with a few wonky shots of characters over a bad representation of a story and characters I love! visuals are not the only thing that matters to me ever

[janecafe]

getting to know your future spouse (a detailed reading)

1--2--3

˚⊱🍀⊰˚

to book a personal paid reading here

this reading was based on the tarot & oracle cards itself. it not totally foretells the future outcome however everything is yet not set into the stone, the reader is advised to read at their own risk. we still have the rights to make our own dreams and faith. peace!

i will use him or her, she or he as a general point of view of this reading from which is the strongest energy i'm gonna pick up for each pile. regardless of the gender, you can still view or change the pronoun by your preferred gender.

©janecafe 2025

POV: kudos to all hardworking tarot readers out there, it was my first time to read this big pack of energy and i never knew it would drain the hell out of me. it also took me weeks to complete and finished this reading so a big salute! 🍵

sections ⋆

- overall personality, traits & quirks

- physical appearance

- mentality, beliefs or habits

- zodiac signs, letters & relevant numbers

- places and directions

₊˚ʚ 𝐔𝐍𝐎 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

i. overall personality traits & quirks

he is focusing on himself more onto his financial needs. he is probably busy working on things he needs, despite the doubt, the percentage of faith is higher. i can't totally say, he is afraid to fail but he strongly wants to build stable finances and establish a name on his career.

he is probably someone that is highly respected in his career. someone who maybe abuses power somehow in his job and career. he got the position that is influential, leading or top-level. one of the reasons are- this is his way to protect his bubble, he worked hard for that. it probably took him years to build and achieve that position and life.

however looking on the brighter side, he is detail oriented, career focused, dependable and is willing to work collaboration with his co-workers and teammates. he wants his skills and experiences to contribute to the company for a better and productive work environment. high chances he may also be a business owner and entrepreneur.

i think people have harsh opinions and may have false accusations with your person. as you can see, he exudes a negatively impact from people's perspective.

he also has an obsession over his hair. for him, it must be clean and neat. (came out of nowhere ehihi✌🏻)

this person, is the one that will encourage and support you a lot but it seems like you were just numb enough to think of that, like to think that he likes you at first because you've heard people's opinions towards him that affect on how you look with this person.

you may work with this person, maybe a boss, a mentor or whatsoever it is, but the important recipe here is that they're known to your work and well-experience.

i can say that the connection may start as casual and hostile from the starting months or even years.

he also likes to yell at tv, it was the show he was yelling at as if he was going to be heard.

another description of him is- he is a cold-fish person but also a lone wolf.

signs you can look: feeling charismatic. being more creative than before. new friendships. felt satisfied with your own. a big house celebration. trust issues. desperate to live on your own. desperate to move.

ii. physical appearance

he has an immaculate appearance, even if he wears rags it's an A1 as it is. his hooded pair of eyes fits perfectly to his face. if i were to describe his eyes language it's beady and heavy, it more has sad emotions that describe his entire aura and mood.

as i said, the hair will be neat and clean. it is also thick and soft.

he may have dry and chapped lips. but the teeth are also prominent, maybe there's a gap between his teeth or like a vampire/fang teeth. his height is intimidating, someone who is gifted kinda lofty. (this is how i describe him bcs i am smol ehihi ✌🏻)

let's see what i can get more here. ohh, body yes. it's obvious that it's not attractive enough for most but i think it's healthy and i can't say that his body is very muscular but his chest and stomach is fine. it's not too thin nor fat.

iii. mentality, beliefs or habits

he is a volunteer of a new perspective and trials in life. he is a family-centric person, building a peaceful household is one of his goals and beliefs. i think, it's important for him to choose the right partner.

he is the type of person that won't get immediately in a relationship despite the connection and feelings may build he would likely withdraw or run away from it. it's like he knows himself very well, he knows when he's in love "he gives and risks it all"- so that's his way to avoid the ache feeling. he is knows he's boundaries.

he believes in learning and continues the improvement of every individual. he believes that there is kindness despite people's harsh opinions of him, he can't blame them if that's what they think or perceive him.

he is a thrifty person but is willing to spend money for branded things and important people in his life.

iv. zodiac signs, names, letters & relevant numbers

gale, abigale, francis, francisco, frank, kath, cath, kaye, kate, cecil, cecilia, maria, marian, marie, rich, richard, ed, edward, edwin, eddy, brent, bench, robert, romeo, rob, rock, julie, jillian, julia, julian, james, rey. that's all the names i've got. ✌🏻

6, 37, 28, 10, 19, 12, 88, 22.

scorpio, virgo, sagittarius (2x), aquarius and taurus (3x)

v. places and directions

park, office, lake, grand parents house or old (haunted) house, small town, simply north.

₊˚ʚ 𝐃𝐎𝐒 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

i. overall personality traits & quirks

she is a carefree person. someone who looks after a bigger picture. i think she knows how to appreciate things, she's just happy whatever life and people treat her. she has a very pure soul. it's like kindness is never a wrong choice, but for her perspective, it's priceless to receive kindness from others as well.

she's too optimistic. she's not that kind of person who bluffs and talks negatively to others. she's not into that negative vibe. she's balanced and mindful when talks.

her intelligence and fair treatment to others is absolutely beautiful.

as well, she loves to inspire others. when she works she's determined and goal-driven. she's loyal to those people who gain her trust, her selflessness shows no personal agenda. if she thinks you are trustworthy then you are worth risking.

i think she has an oily or sweaty face and body. well that's normal though maybe this is one of the reasons why she's always carrying tissues.

she has a deep love for nature, animals and rain.

just another secret to add, she likes to sing but i can say that her voice is good to hear. 😅

ii. physical appearance

okay, with the tower card. if i'm not mistaken, she's tall and this makes her incredible to people's point of view asides from her personality of course.

her eyes had a tinge of freedom and power, on the outer it's large and has a gentle expression.

her side profile and lips are perfectly fine. her overall aura is very zen energy. (jennie song, ehihihi ✌🏻)

i think she has brown skin or may have a dark complexion.

iii. mentality, beliefs or habits

she believes that passion is the one that makes us successful. if you love and enjoy what you are doing you are considered successful from her perspective.

she believes that love comes in the most unexpected way. the type of love that is slow burn- letting the faith unfold its unexpected moments because for her love will leave a big impact on life. those love that's hard to predict, that the divine intervention and power has do it's own timing to find her by grace and truth.

she also has an optimistic mindset.

iv. zodiac signs, names, letters & relevant numbers

names; sophia, susie, jake, jan, john, julie, jennifer, jen. biblical names like david and aaron.

moon and venus. libra(2x), pisces(3x), taurus, aries, cancer (3x)

18, 7, 169, 8888, 48, 9, 4, 25.

v. places and directions

cinema, library, cafe, street, under the table, under the tree, church, lake, underground, balcony, party, cosplay event. a place where most of the weather is scorching hot or summer in simple terms.

₊˚ʚ 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

i. overall personality traits & quirks

this is someone who trusts the flow of life. he is not afraid of what comes next even if it does not turn out well. he thinks that conflict, errors and challenges are a normal part of living. he understood of pushing himself through hard for the best because that's how he gets stronger.

he is uncommunicative about his plans and goals that somehow people seem to wonder what life he could have behind those eyes. his voice is all that matters to him.

anyway, he laughs a lot too. if you will personally know this person, you would think that they're the smartest, coolest and most beautiful person you've ever met.

he may have small eye glasses. he is interested in writing, reading and painting one of these might be his daily routine habits.

this person has a deep love and interest in historical places and the supernatural. to simplify, he is interested in the occult but not in black magic especially those called ritual to lure someone. he is not a big fan of that. he thinks love comes in a natural way and in divine timing.

he is not a typical person that gets carried away by his emotions. he is serious about handling his life, perhaps, time is important to him too. he doesn't waste time in a senseless chase.

ii. physical appearance

for his physical appearance, i think he is not into trendy, nice and branded clothing. he is more into casual and plain.

he has a round and cute face shape. there's some prominent detail on his whole body- it can be moles, scar or tattoo.

his hair is short and spiky or curly, it structured his head bone. i also think he has thick eyebrows that compliment his whole face. it was the first one to get noticed by people.

he is mature and old compared to his age, people get shocked knowing his real age because it seems like his appearance is not applying for his age.

overall, he is an attractive person.

iii. mentality, beliefs or habits

i think he's into smoking, lighting a candle or incense he may believe it will bring peace and knock senses.

he believes in organizing and cleaning workspaces because it helps him to determine and focus on work.

he may also be into chewing gum, it's just a habit of him that you can't take away.

iv. zodiac signs, letters & relevant numbers

sun and rising. capricorn (3x), pisces, aries(2x), gemini, scorpio, cancer.

harry, henry jacob benjamin blake juana olivia oliver ava amelia amira akira emile akasha aisha anne ann diane diana summer sophia sophie sai sey atasha, joseph, sky, ryan.

34, 13, 11, 9,5, 20

v. places and directions

cafeteria, school, hotel, casino, bat, beach, zoo, police station, lobby, hallway, south direction.

[slumbrr-r]

Entomophobia

An Operation Ichor AU Side Story.

(TW: Insects, body horror, blood, suicide, death.)

——————-+———————

Oh, feel free to theorize about the ending, all I'll say is everything in the comics happens for a reason. :)

On a personal note, this comic hits a little to close to home. At first I wanted to make Glisten A1 relatable and feel real, but I ended up getting attached to this story more than I originally thought.

I do hope you all enjoy.

[societyfolklore]

Favour - Part 3

Title: Favour (Part 3 of 3) Pairing: ClubOwner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  When your boyfriend messes up with the wrong people he offers you up as free labour in Bucky Barnes Club.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Violence,  Blood,  Noncon/Dubcon Elements, Dark Themes, Manipulation, Psychological Domination, Public Humiliation, Power Play,  Possessiveness, Rough Sex, Chocking, Degradation Kink, Fear Kink, Bucky Being a F**king Monster (And we love it!), Unprotected sex, Fingering.  NO BETA

A/N: Final part to series that was part of my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for Bucky 108th Bday event  This is the conclusion!   Part One Here & Part Two I don’t know if I’m going to do anymore parts for this… but we’ll see what happens, never say never.. Square: a1 – Clubowner AU Card Number: 4B003

The month had unraveled like a slow-motion disaster, each passing day tightening the noose around Brock Rumlow’s neck. He had made promises, excuses, spun lies into makeshift bandages, but in the end, none of it mattered. His time was up.

And you felt it.

That morning, you had woken to the sound of Brock pacing. The sharp rhythm of his boots on the floor, his muttered curses, the occasional snap of his knuckles cracking- it painted a picture of a man cornered. His frustration was a living thing, a beast clawing at the walls of your apartment, suffocating the space between you.

You had learned long ago when to step lightly. When to make yourself small.

So, you had dressed in silence, slipping into your clothes quickly, avoiding his gaze. His energy was volatile, his movements erratic, his words clipped when he finally spoke.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag. “Work.”

His nostrils flared, jaw ticking. He said nothing more.

You didn’t wait for an argument. You were out the door before he could sink his claws in deeper. 

You’d hoped that you’d be able to relax at your desk, but you didn’t. The idea of eating lunch just made your stomach twist with nausea. The tension from home, from Brock, seemed to follow you into your shift behind the bar. Everything felt just as wrong here as it did there. No one really looking at you. The girls you thought you’d made friends with exchanging glances, whispering when they thought you weren’t listening.

Something was very, very wrong.

It was 1 AM when a hand finally came down on your shoulder.

"You’re wanted upstairs."

Your mouth went dry. Your hands shook.

This was what they meant when they said ‘dead man walking.’

The hallway smelled of whiskey and old leather, but beneath it, the iron tang of blood coiled sharp in your nostrils. You could seen see the blood stains, dark on the burgundy carpets that weren't able to fully disguise it's presence.  The sounds filtering from Bucky’s office were unmistakable- flesh meeting flesh, the wet squelch of impact, the grunted responses of pain.

Then came the voice- low, controlled, laced with something far more dangerous than anger.

"One month. I gave you an entire extra month!"

Another wet impact. A groan. A sickening thud that made your stomach twist.

"Your girl’s bought in more than you have."

A muffled noise- Brock trying to speak, cut off by a sharp crack, followed by a wheeze of pain.

"Stop treating me like I’m stupid, Rumlow!"

Your breath stilled in your chest. Your fingers curled into your palms as you hesitated just outside the door, pulse hammering against your ribs. You knew what was waiting for you inside, knew that once you crossed that threshold, there was no looking away.

But Bucky Barnes had summoned you.

And you had never really had a choice.

You knew what you would see before you even stepped inside.

Still, the sight of Brock’s slumped, battered form made your stomach turn.

He was barely upright in the chair, wrists bound, head lolling forward. Blood painted his face in crimson streaks, dripping sluggishly from a gash at his temple. One eye was swollen shut, lips split, breath coming in wet, rattling drags.

Bucky stood near his desk, rolling his sleeves back down, movements methodical, almost bored. The contrast was staggering- where Brock looked like something discarded, Bucky was pristine, composed, a man who had never lost control a day in his life.

He wiped his knuckles clean on a handkerchief, exhaling a slow breath, before finally lifting his gaze.

Right to you.

“You’re out of options, Rumlow.”

The words slithered through the air, finality threaded in velvet.

Bucky took a step forward, and the weight of it settled over you, thick as smoke, as it pressed into your lungs. The air itself seemed to shrink, heavy with the scent of blood and the unshakable authority he carried in every movement. Your pulse stuttered, throat tightening as though his presence alone had wrapped invisible fingers around your neck, demanding your submission before he had even spoken. The way he moved- deliberate, assured- sent a slow crawl of heat down your spine.

Rumlow stirred, his remaining eye cracking open, gaze flicking between you and Bucky. His bloodied lips curled, voice thick with spit and venom.

“She’s mine, Barnes.”

Bucky hummed, something dark and knowing flashing behind his eyes. He lifted a hand, dragging a slow, lazy fingertip from your jaw, down your throat, over your collarbone.

“Not anymore.”

The silence pressed heavy, thick with unspoken truths.

Bucky traced the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the touch deceptively soft. A claiming.

“She’s not yours,” Rumlow spat, voice cracking. “She’s not- ”

“She is now. You practically gift wrapped her for me." 

Rumlow made a sound- half snarl, half choked breath- but he wasn’t fighting anymore. He was just watching. Watching as Bucky’s hand traveled lower, over the curve of your waist, thumb dipping just beneath the waistband of your skirt.

"You’re the only thing he’s got left to give me,” Bucky mused, voice low, edged with satisfaction.

Your breath hitched. You wanted to protest, to say something, but your body betrayed you, frozen beneath his touch.

Rumlow's breathing turned ragged, his body tensing against the bindings, his fingers twitching uselessly where they were tied. His chest heaved, each breath coming out in thick, rattling bursts, fury barely held beneath the surface. He shifted against the chair, as if testing the strength of the restraints, his shoulders bunching, his jaw clenching so tight it looked like his teeth might crack.

But he wasn’t struggling to fight anymore.

No, this was different. This was a man trying to cling to something already slipping through his fingers, too slow to stop it, too weak to change the outcome. His good eye darted to you, frantic, flickering with something ugly- accusation, betrayal, the last remnants of his pride bleeding out alongside his dignity.

And then, the realization hit him fully.

He had already lost. He saw it, too.

"Christ, you fucking whore!" His voice is a wet rasp, thick with blood and fury. He spits in your direction, and you feel it hit your hand, warm, sickening. Your stomach clenches, but you don’t move.

"Knew it! Knew you'd been putting out for him! Fucking slut!" The venom in his voice is weaker now, laced with something that sounds almost like fear. Like he’s realizing too late that he’s already lost.

Bucky doesn’t even flinch. His fingers only tighten against your waist, his amusement evident in the smirk that curls at his lips. "That’s it, Doll," he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "Look at him. Not even worth the effort, is he?"

Bucky leaned down, breath fanning against your ear, his words for you alone. “Tell me, sweetheart… did he ever deserve you?”

Your pulse pounded. Your fingers curled into fists. And you hated that you didn’t have an answer. Brock had used you, stomped you down, sold you off. Hate sizzled under your skin. 

Bucky’s lips ghosted against your jaw. “Didn’t think so.”

He chuckled, low and dark, the sound curling around your spine like smoke. His fingers trailed along your cheek, smearing a streak of Rumlow’s blood across your skin. His touch was deceptively gentle, reverent almost, a stark contrast to the brutality he had just unleashed.

“Just a sad, sad loser,” he purred, thumb pressing against the curve of your jaw, tilting your head back to him. “Who threw away the only thing that should have mattered.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers toyed with the button on your blouse before he started to undo them. The cool air of the room kissed your exposed skin, but the heat of his palm followed, searing in its wake. His fingers lingered, tracing over your collarbone, dipping lower, teasing, claiming.

“Want someone better, don’t you?” he murmured against your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver. “Someone who knows what you are.”

A soft whine escaped your throat as he guided you toward the desk, his grip firm but never forceful. His hands knew their way around your body, knew exactly how to make you tremble. Your shirt hanging open. 

“Loyal till the end, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he mused, lips dragging over your temple. “Would’ve let him drown you to save himself.”

Your stomach twisted because you knew it was true. Brock never would have taken the fall. Never would have bled for you.

Bucky’s fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, teasing at the sensitive flesh beneath. His smirk was lazy, knowing, pleased.

“I know a prize when I see it,” he whispered. “Know when something good comes into my life.” His fingers pressed, slow, firm. Your lips parted in a sharp inhale. “And you want to be good, don’t you?”

Your knees felt weak, your body betraying you, betraying everything you thought you knew about yourself.

“Want to show him what he’s going to miss?” His teeth scraped along the shell of your ear, voice thick with amusement. “What you’ve needed?”

You should have pulled away.

Your mind had screamed at you to move, to step back, to reclaim the last shred of control you still had. But your body betrayed you- breath shallow, fingers twitching at your sides, legs weak beneath the weight of his touch. The heat of him, the scent of leather and blood, the quiet, possessive hum vibrating against your ear- it held you there, trapped between defiance and surrender.

Bucky had given you a choice.. 

But it wasn’t really a choice, was it?

You could fight, but what would that change?

You could run, but where would you go?

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of you that wants this.

That wanted to hurt Rumlow back for everything he’d done to you. That wanted to let go, let someone else take control for once. That wanted to belong to someone who wouldn’t throw you away when it was convenient.

You didn't answer.

You didn't need to.

Bucky knew.

His hands moved slow at first, teasing, testing the waters, making you feel every second of his touch. The rasp of his calloused fingers against your skin. The heat of his palm as it pressed against your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh.

He slid your blouse off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor in a whisper of fabric, his fingers grazing along your bare skin as he went. His touch was slow, deliberate, reinforcing the control he had over this moment since the second you stepped through the door. Your breathing was sharp, shallow, your pulse thundering against his lips when he dragged them down the side of your neck.

Rumlow shifted in his chair, hands curled into fists. You could feel his anger, his humiliation, but you didn't look at him jsut threw him. 

Because he had never really looked at you.

Never really saw you at all.

“Look at her,” Bucky murmured, fingers pressing under your chin, tilting your face toward Rumlow. His voice was dark, cruel, intoxicating. “She was never yours.”

His hand slided under your skirt, rough fingers pushing aside the thin barrier of your panties. Your body betrayed you, your hips shifted into his touch, breath catching when he draged his fingers along your slit.

“She’s dripping for me,” Bucky chuckled. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Shame burned your cheeks, your body trembling against his as he stroked you, teasing, relentless.

Rumlow watched, silent rage carved into every muscle. His breath came fast, shallow, his chest heaving. He hated this. Hated you.

You hated him back. 

This was his mess, Brock had pulled you into this whole circus. 

Now you were stuck, trapped in world you never wanted to be part of. 

A tangled mess of emotions coils in your stomach- shame, defiance, something darker still. The heat of Bucky’s touch branded you, claiming, unraveling you inch by inch. You should resist. You should hate this. But the way Rumlow seethed - it stirs something primal, something that makes your thighs press together but Bucky parted them instead. 

And it only made you wetter.

Bucky’s grip tightened, his other hand curled into your hair, dragging your head back so he could nip at your throat. “Good girl,” he murmured against your skin. “That’s it. Let him see.”

His fingers kneaded the soft flesh of your chest, cupping, squeezing, rolling your nipples between rough fingertips as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “Take it off,” he whispered, voice thick with command. “Show him.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your fingers trembled as they reached behind your back, unclasping your bra. The fabric slid down your arms, baring you to the cool air of the room, but the heat of Bucky’s touch was already there, claiming every inch of exposed skin.

“Look at her” Bucky purred, his hands finding their way back to your chest, massaging, teasing, reveling in the way your body responded to him. “You threw this away.”

Shame burned at the edges of your mind, tangled with something deeper, something darker. You hated Rumlow- hated him for dragging you into this, for making you a pawn in a game he was too stupid to win. But more than anything, you hated the way your body responded to Bucky’s touch, the way his control settled over you like something inevitable.

Bucky’s hand slid down your stomach, over the curve of your hip, gripping the waistband of your skirt before spinning you around and bending you forward over his desk. The sound of his chair scraping across the floor as he kicked it away sent a shiver down your spine.

One large hand pressed firm against the back of your neck, keeping you in place, while the other slid down, tracing the swell of your behind before slipping between your thighs. His fingers pushed inside you with ease, stretching, exploring, claiming.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, voice deep and satisfied. “And he gets to watch every fucking second of it.”

Bucky worked you open with slow, torturous precision, curling his fingers just right, his touch unrelenting as your body betrayed you further. Your breath hitched, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as heat coiled low in your belly. His grip on your neck eased slightly, but only so he pressing possessively against you.

“Yeah, Doll,” he purred, the deep rumble of his voice sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. “Bet he never did this for you.”

A sharp pang of resentment twisted through you, shame tangling with reluctant pleasure as you realized- he was right. Brock had never touched you like this. Never made you feel like this.

Your hips had rolled back against his hand before you could stop yourself, seeking more of the friction he so cruelly teased. The motion made you aware of the thick, hard press of his cock against your backside, straining through his pants.

Bucky chuckled, a dark, knowing sound. “That’s it, baby. You want more, don’t you?”

Your answer came in the way your thighs shook, in the way your body arched instinctively into his touch. He let go of your neck then, his hand snaking around to your mouth, fingers pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You hesitated only a second before he slid two fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, letting you taste the remnants of your own arousal.

“Oh yeah, let me feel that tongue,” he groaned, his fingers thrusting in slow, deliberate movements, his other hand still buried between your legs, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

That idea made your core clamp down around his fingers, the rush of heat twisting low in your stomach. Rumlow made a noise- something between a growl and a choked breath- but you couldn’t focus on that. Not when you were so close.

Bucky felt it, too. "That's it, Doll," he murmured, voice thick with approval, fingers pushing deeper, curling just right. "Go on. Come for me."

Your body betrayed you completely, the pleasure crested so fast and sharp that you barely recognized the sounds spilling from your lips. The air thickened around you, every nerve alight as your thighs trembled, your hands scrabbling weakly against the desk for something- anything- to anchor you. The sharp tang of sweat and musk filled your senses, your pulse hammering in your ears as your mouth fell open in a choked gasp, your body wracked with sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. Your nails dug into the desk as your legs trembled, a strangled cry escaping as the tension snapped and pleasure crashed through you in waves.

Bucky groaned low in his throat, feeling the way you clenched around his fingers, dragging it out, letting you ride every last ripple of sensation. And then, just as you sagged forward, boneless and panting, he pulled his hands away.

The loss made you whimper, but he only chuckled, lifting his fingers to his mouth. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, slow and deliberate. "Sweet," he mused, smirking as he turned his gaze back to Rumlow. "Bet you never even tried, huh?"

Brok snarled, but he was powerless, his bindings holding him tight. His face was twisted in barely contained rage, humiliated, but Bucky only laughed, rubbing his slick fingers together before finally reaching for his belt.

The sound of the buckle coming undone made your breath hitch, anticipation and something darker pooling between your legs. You barely had time to process it before his wet hand- still damp from your mouth- pressed down on your shoulders, guiding you forward until your chest met the cool surface of his desk. His other hand tangled into your hair, tugging your head up just enough to make you face Rumlow again.

"Look at her, Rumlow," Bucky murmured, his voice dark and mocking. "You're going to watch. Like a good boy."

Then he pushed into you, the stretch of him immediate and overwhelming. Your fingers clawed at the desk, your breath coming in quick, uneven pants as your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- "

Bucky’s grip tightened in your hair, keeping you steady, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. "No, no," he corrected, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're going to take it. You're going to love it." 

The stretch was too much. He was too much. Your walls clenched around him instinctively, body trying to fight the intrusion even as another part of you surrendered. The burn made your breath hitch, made your nails scrape against the wood of his desk as your legs trembled beneath you.

Bucky felt it. Felt the way your body fought him, trying to adjust, trying to take him. And he loved it.

“Easy pretty girl,” he murmured, his tone mockingly sweet as he dragged his cock out a fraction before pressing in again, forcing your body to yield. His grip in your hair tugged your head back, keeping you from burying your face in the desk. He wanted you watching. This time you whined loudly, your eyes getting wet as tears pricked in the corners.

“Shhh, Doll. I know it’s a lot,” he purred, his chest pressing against your back as he leaned down, lips just by your ear. “But you’re gonna take it for me, aren’t you? Be a good girl and let me ruin you?”

You let out a choked sound, half whimper, half moan, your body torn between resistance and something darker. The pressure, the overwhelming fullness- it was too much and not enough all at once.

Bucky groaned, his grip shifting from your hip to the nape of your neck, pressing you down harder. His is fingers flexed, tightening, possessive. “That’s it, baby. Stop fightin’ it. Just let me in.”

You whimpered, body finally starting to give in, your muscles loosening, letting him sink deeper.

“There you go, sweet girl,” he cooed, his thrusts turning slow, deep, merciless. “That’s what I thought. You just needed me to break you in a little, huh?”

"Buck-Auh." 

Your legs were shaking now, your breath coming in uneven gasps as your body stopped resisting. It was all too much, too overwhelming- the feeling of him stretching you, filling you, owning you, the weight of his body that pinned you down, the way his voice slithered into your ear, hot and filthy and so damn cruel.

And Rumlow. Watching. Seeing everything.

Bucky made sure of that.

He tugged your hair again, tilting your head enough that your blurred gaze met Brock’s, that he could see the way your lips parted, the way your eyes fluttered shut every time Bucky pushed deeper.

“See that?” Bucky grunted, his voice sharper now, his thrusts harsher, shaking the desk with each movement. “See how much she likes a real man fucking her, Rumlow.”

Your whimper had only made him smirk. His other hand had left your hip, dragging up your stomach, up your chest, gripping your throat, holding you still.

Bucky wasn’t  done teaching.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” he murmured again, his hand tightening around your throat, forcing your head up, keeping your back arched as he pounded into you. “This is what it means to be owned.”

A strangled moan tore from your throat, your vision blurring as the sensations overwhelmed you. You didn’t know when the fight left your body- when your resistance melted into submission, your hips pushing back. “That’s  it Doll,” he groaned, satisfied. “That’s what I wanted. Knew you’d learn.” His pace didn’t slow, hips slamming into yours, forcing you to feel every inch of him, every stroke dragging along your sensitive walls, making your nails dig deeper into the desk.

Your body was burning, your legs weak beneath you, pleasure a tightening coil in your stomach. The desk holding you up more then your legs did.

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You got to learn, too, Rumlow.” Bucky’s voice was mocking, dripping with cruelty as he pulled you back by your hair, your neck arching, your chest lifting off the desk. “You watching? You paying attention?”

A low, muffled noise- Rumlow’s disgust, his helpless fury. But it didn’t matter.

Bucky owned this moment. Owned you.

His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight, slow circles, teasing you, making your thighs tremble.

“You’re gonna come for me,” Bucky ordered, his breath hot against your ear, his thrusts unrelenting. “You’re gonna come while he watches. Gonna show him what it looks like to be fucked by someone who knows what he’s doing.”

Your body shook, heat cascading through you, your muscles locking as the pressure inside you snapped. Your orgasm slammed into you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your body tightening around him like a vice.

Bucky cursed, his fingers digging into your hip, riding it out with you, his thrusts never stopping, never giving you a moment to breathe.

“Oh god, oh god..”

Then his hand left your hip, sliding up, fingers to wrap back around your throat. Not just to hold you this time. The pressure was immediate, firm but controlled, cutting off just enough air to make your head go light, your pulse pounding against his palm. Your vision blurred at the edges, black creeping in like ink seeping through water.

"That’s it, Doll," he groaned, his grip tightening. "Give it to me. Let go. Give me the another one."

Your body spasmed around him, muscles clenching, the sharp pleasure twisting with the darkness creeping into your mind. You barely heard your own ragged moan, barely felt the last desperate pulse of your orgasm before the world faded, before you felt him spill inside you- hot, claiming, absolute.

Bucky held you there, his cock buried to the hilt, his hand still wrapped around your throat as he emptied himself into you. The last thing you felt before the blackness swallowed you whole was the deep, satisfied hum of his voice against your ear.

"That’s my girl."

TAG: @swiggityswoody52

[enhaeil]

CATER 2 U! ☆ 박종성

"cause baby this is your day, do anything for my man, baby, you blow me away. i got your slippers, your dinner, your dessert and so much more..anything you want.. let me cater to you.."

cater 2 U - destiny's child

a/n: if u know me, no u dont. first time writing smut tho! this nasty

spoiled!wife! reader x husband!jay

cw: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, praise kink, lap dance, oral (both f&m) uhm yea thats all i think

✩ ₊˚ —

jay loves to spoil you. ever since you got with jay, you've never paid for a date, your nails, your hair; whatever you needed, he provided. he'd give you his last if you asked him for it.

jay who gets off to you spending his money. he loves seeing you in a new dress he bought. he loves seeing the nails he paid for wrapped around him in the night. he loves seeing you full of dinner from a fancy restaurant he took you to.

when asked how he does it, his explanation is quite simple:

"it's easy, love. I pay for your hair, and in return, I get a beautiful smile on your face. I buy you designer heels, you model them for me. I pay our rent, you get bent over the bed later... it's a win-win!" he says matter of factly.

but what jay fails to bring up, and what you've come to notice about the beautiful man you call husband ...

he secretly enjoys being spoiled, too.

and what better day to do it than his birthday?

— more under the cut

jay's in the mirror fixing the last few buttons on his shirt, still deciding to pick up a shift on his day because 'how else will he take you to the bahamas?'.

you lay in your shared bed, still naked and somewhat sweaty from the 'good morning, happy birthday, just because' sex that just occurred 10 minutes ago.

you tried to convince him to stay for another round, or two, or three or four, but to no avail. that's okay. y'all have till 12 AM anyway.

'alright baby, i'm off to work. i should be back soon,' he says, making his way over to your vulnerable form in the bed.

he presses a goodbye kiss to your lips, but you being needy, tries to turn into round two.

jay pulls away hesitantly. 'you're gonna make me late, love. i'll be back later, and we can have all the fun you want.'

and with that, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and he's out the door.

the moment you hear his car leave the driveway, you're up out the bed.

you take a quick shower before throwing on something casual to run a few errands. jay gets home around 6:30, so you need everything to be A1 by then.

one of the most important stops you had to make was the music shop.

your man loved guitars, it was known to everybody. so, for his biggest gift, you got him a custom-made guitar. it was made of the perfect materials and even had his initials engraved in it.

on the way back home, you also stop at a grocery store and a lingerie store, wanting to have something new for your loving husband to unwrap later.

time flies quickly, and before you know it, there's thirty minutes until jay comes home.

you take in your surroundings, giving them one last scan. you look at the giant '23' balloons you have floating around, the streamers, the flowers, the food. everything looks just how you imagined.

you spritz on one last squirt of pheromone perfume and wait on the couch for the sound of his keys.

a few minutes pass and you hear him approaching, causing you to stand up and smooth out your dress.

the door opens, and jay doesn't immediately notice everything, focused on taking his shoes off.

but man, his face when he realizes ... should've recorded that shit.

'baby... what's all this?' he says, looking around.

'happy birthday, jay. it's for you... !'

he stands there stunned, with the dopiest smile on his face. your heels finally click towards him, pressing a kiss on his lips.

'come on, let's eat.' you say, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the kitchen, purposely swishing your hips as you walk, definitely drawing attention from jay.

he tears that food UP!

he leans back in the chair, stuffed with the meal you made for him. you swiftly grab his plate and yours, throwing them on the sink, making them tomorrows problem.

you sneak behind him, rubbing his shoulders, feeling the tenseness leave his body, as he throws his head back. (if you know you know.)

god, he looks so good ... eyes blown out from being a little wine drunk, hair a little messy from work ... yea, it's time to get him up in that bed.

you lead up to your shared bedroom, stopping at the door.

'I have one more big surprise for you..'

you open the door, reveal a beautiful guitar sitting on its stand.

jay's mouth drops open before he dashes over there, picking up the instrument.

'baby... how ... you didn't have to do this for me...' he says, studying the guitar design, thick fingers grazing over the strings ... those thick... beautiful fingers ..

you stride over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.

"of course I did, jay. you've given me everything i've ever wanted ... this is the least I could do.' you reassure him.

he sets the guitar back on its stand before wrapping his arms around your waist. you can tell he's been hitting the gym lately, his strong arms wrapped against you. he buries his face in your shoulder, taking in your scent.

'geez baby, you smell heavenly, this a new perfume?' he says going back in to press some kisses on your bare shoulder.

'it's a secret' you smile, parting from him, guilding him to sit on the bed. 'now wait here, i left something in the bathroom..' you say sneaking away. little did he know you had something planned.

you freshen yourself up in the bathroom and strip your dress off, revealing the black lingerie you hid under. you then hit play on your phone, cater 2 u by destiny's child blasting through the bluetooth speaker in your room.

you strut out the bathroom and make your way towards jay as the intro plays. just when this man thought you couldn't wow him more.

"Baby I see you working hard, I want to let you know I'm proud, let you know that I admire what you do. don't know if I need to reassure you, my life would be purposeless without you.."

beyonce sings through the speaker as you sway your hips and roll your body to the music.

"You inspire me to be better, you challenge me for the better, sit back and let me pour out my love letter"

jay leans back in awe, adjusting his position in reaction to his pants, starting to feel tight.

"remain the same chick, you fell in love with. I'll keep it tight, i'll keep my figure right I'll keep my hair fixed.."

you point towards jay as you make your way towards him, bending over in front him, giving him a closer look at what you have to offer him.

"when you come home late, tap me on my shoulder, I'll roll over.. baby, I heard you, i'm here to serve you. If it's love you need, to give it is my joy, all I wanna do, is cater to you boy"

you finally plop down in jay's lap, rolling your hips on top of him, chest right his face as you grind right against him.

the song continues, you feeling jay get harder underneath you with each verse as his hands rest on your hips.

you grab his face, looking right into his eyes. you see lust, want and need. but even behind that, jay's eyes are filled with so much admiration and love. as the song comes to an end, you see his eyes become glossy, causing yours to water as well.

you press a passionate, needy kiss to his lips as your hips continue to the beat.

the song finally ends, but your hips don't. dangerously in love comes on next in the recommended songs, perfect.

you and jay's kisses progressively become more rushed, both of your bodies falling back onto the bed, you straddling him.

your hips never stop moving, as you grind on him through his pants.

'fuck, princess ... keep moving like that.'

you do exactly that, hands trailing down to the buttons of his shirt, exposing his bare chest. you lean down to kiss down his chest, leaving marks as you go down.

you finally get off him, giving jay a second to catch his breath. your hands fly to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling down his pants, revealing what's underneath.

typically, jay is the one going down on you. one of his favorite activities, truly. he won't even ask you for head, for he feels its degrading, but that never stopped you and it definitely won't tonight.

you rid his boxers and lick a stripe up his length, making him groan out loud.

you've been needy for your husband since this morning, so you don't waste any time taking him in your mouth.

jay let's out another strangled groan, almost as if he tried to hold it in but couldn't anymore.

you use every trick you know he likes, trying to have him hurdling towards the edge before he can even realize.

'mm... i love this dick..' you say taking him back into your mouth.

you notice jay had a physical reaction to that ... this man has a praise kink. you decide you're going to use this to your advantage tonight.

you wrap your hands around what's not in your mouth and hum against him.

'my handsome husband... treats me so fucking good. just wanna suck him dry as a thank you ...' you say looking at him throught your lashes.

jay's hips jerk up. you can tell he's really close.

you take him all the way to the back of your throat, tears brimming at your eyes as swallow around him. jay's hands hover over your head, his stomach contracting.

'fuck baby i'm gonna cum..' he says, breathing increasing.

you hum against him again, moving your head up and down, sucking him like it's your life's mission.

you take him to the back of your throat one more time before he releases, shooting down your throat with a loud moan.

you continue to work him through his orgasm, happily swallowing what he gives you and continuing to lick him up.

you finally get up from your position, giving jay a goofy smile like you didn't almost end him.

'bring that ass up here, pretty.' he says as his hands, signal for you to come closer.

he pulls you in for a nasty, lustful kiss, one that says everything you need to know. he pulls apart, readjusting himself on the pillow, giving you a look you know all too well.

'jay... tonights about you only..!' you say, rubbing your hands on his chest.

'exactly ... and right now, I want to taste you.

the look he gives you sends shivers down your spine as you climb your way up to his face. you hover over his lips before he pulls your set to the side, grabs your waist, and forces you down.

you let out a sharp moan as you feel him work his magic on you. this man truly is good at everything he does.

he eats you like he's starved. like he's been denied the taste of heaven for years and doesn't know if he'll ever have it again after this. like he's been waiting for this moment.

'yes- fuck, jay ... it's yours, baby i promise.'

he hums against you, only speeding up his actions, head moving side to side.

you would be embarrassed, you know, at the amount of slurping and wet noises coming from down there, but he doesn't even give you the breath to. before you know it you're cumming all over his face.

jay pulls away with a pop before you hop off him.

'still got another round in you, baby?' you say grabbing his length and getting it ready for you.

'i'm ready to put a baby in you if anything. you look so good like this.' he says, rubbing your ass as you get ready to arch for him.

you giggle at his comment, but luckily, he didn't see you clench at the thought of being filled up.

you make your arch as deep as possible before wiggling your ass in front of him. he gives it a slap before rubbing himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick.

he finally slides himself in, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. he gives you a second to adjust before he pulls himself nearly out and slams back into you.

jay knows your body like the back of his own hand, so it doesn't take him long to make you feel like your gonna cum.

'fuck baby ... you're s-so fucking deep.' you say as each thrust lunges you foward.

jay sounds angelic as he moans every few thrust. that's enough to get you pregnant right there.

'yea baby? 's too much?" he says, slowing down, making you feel every ridge and inch.

'mm-m no ... fuck it's so good..'

he picks his pace back up, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

'you close, baby? you gonna cum for me?" he speaks as he reaches for your hand.

'yes jay fuck... keep fucking me like that.. this pussy's all yours..'

''m gonna make you a daddy.."

jay's pace falters immediately, thrusts becoming uneven.

'fuck, y/n, you can't just say that.' he says eyebrows scrunching. you can tell he's close.

'please jay ... i want it so bad ... want you to cum so deep inside me ... wanna give you a baby jay ... you're gonna be such a good father..- fuck you're gonna make me cum.'

jay lifts your leg up, forcing himself deep inside as he releases right there, triggering your release right after.

after a few minutes, jay finally lifts up off you and pulls out, being careful not to waste anything.

'you really wanna have a baby?' he says as you guys lay there, catching your breath.

'jay, you're literally the best man I could ask for. i'd give you 9 kids if you asked me to."

he laughs at your statement before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

'9 kids it is.'

[alotofpockets]

Final four | Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Dutch!Reader

Summary: Playing against your girlfriend was never easy, but playing against her team for a spot in the final four of the nations league was tough on another level.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8k

-----

Playing for a different country than your girlfriend meant that you would have to play against each other from time to time. You had never been a fan of having to play against her, since it always meant that only one of you could win. Playing with Leah was much more your cup of tea. Arsenal was where the two of you had met and fell in love, you had played there together for years now. 

Going into the Nations League, you knew that you were going to be competing in the same league, but you cursed yourself when you found out that both The Netherlands and England had been drawn into group A1, meaning that even if everything went well for both your teams, only one of your teams was going to make it into the final four. 

You were nearing the end of the group stages, just two more matches to be played, Scotland vs Belgium, and The Netherlands vs England. The Netherlands and England shared the first position in the group, only England taking the lead on goal difference, meaning that the winner of tonight’s game was going to qualify either Leah’s team or your team.

In the locker room you were gearing up nervously, your mind stuck on the fact that it was going to be either you or Leah. You sat in your cubby next to Viv, the only person who knew exactly how you were feeling. While neither her or Beth were captaining their teams, she was in the same boat, it was either going to be her or her girlfriend moving up in the competition. Viv was a close friend of yours, as you played for the same club and county, you had known her for years, and she knew how to read you well. “The high’s and low’s of football are so close together. I know it seems stressful right now, but no matter what happens, it is going to be okay.” She said with a reassuring hand on your knee. “Thanks Viv.”

You didn’t feel like you should be the one giving the pre-match speech right now, but as the captain it was your duty to do so. “Alright team, listen up.” You stood in the middle of the room. “This is a big game. As you all know, only the winner gets a spot in the final four. We have been performing well, but don’t forget that they have been as well. I want each and everyone of you to give it your all out there.” You looked around at your team proudly. “Let’s show them what we’ve got. Team on three.” Everyone stood and put their hands together, “One, two, three.” You count off, and the room fills with one loud “Team.”

The team starts lining up in the tunnel, you put your game face on and try to get in the game zone mind wise. The England squad lines up next to you, this was really happening. When Leah stood next to you she reached out her hand, with her head still facing the field in front of her. You take her hands, and give it a squeeze, before looking up at the sky and closing your eyes. The moment of the two captains was of course filmed as the camera crew was ready to film the teams entering the field, a moment that you would forever treasure no matter today’s outcome. 

With one last deep breath, you let go of Leah's hand, as you both lead your teams out onto the field. Both national anthems are sung, and one more quick team huddle was held, before you made your way to the middle of the field. You shake hands with the referees as well as Leah of course. 

Before you walk back to your respected places on the field, you give her one last hug. “Give it your all.” You whisper in her ear. She gives you a final squeeze with the words, “You too.” While it was stressful playing against your girlfriend, it was reassuring to you to have moments like this with her before.

The teams were well matched, possession of the ball was switched around constantly. It was getting frustrating for you as a forward to not get the ball further onto the field than a little past the halfway line before it was intercepted by an England player. 

When Jackie intercepted the ball from a bad pass between Keira and Georgia, she lifted her eyes to see you running along the flank. Her pass came in your direction, and with a perfect first touch, you managed to run forward. It was the first time either team had really been able to build up an attack, and you wanted to make the best of it. Though before you could build up further Leah slid in with a slightly late tackle, making you crash into the ground. “Shit, are you okay?” Leah was by your side instantly, her hand placed on your back as you fell face first onto the pitch. The referee blew the whistle for a free kick, while you answered her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Leah helped you up and patted your back. 

Sherida lined up to take the free kick, and you made your way into the penalty area with the rest of your teammates who had already made their way over. Since the game had been so even, without any shots on goal, this free kick from a promising position had to be taken advantage of. So, when the ball came soaring your way at the far post, you headed it with all the power and spin that you could give it. You didn’t see the ball hit the net, but by the eruption of the crowd you knew you had scored. Your teammates flooded in around you, patting your head and cheering you on. “Come on, let’s keep this up, ladies!” 

Sadly your lead on the opposition wasn’t for long as Alessia made the score not even two minutes after your goal. The half time whistle sounded and the score was still level as you made your way back into the tunnel. Time in the locker room flies by, after short pep-talk and some hydration, you head back onto the field. 

The sixtieth minute was coming closer and subs from both teams were warming up along the sidelines, getting ready to replace some of the tired legs on the field. The speed of the game seemed to pick up again after the substitutions were made, as England came charging forward. Beth tricked one of your defenders and the goalkeeper by making it seem like she was going to set up Alessia with the ball, but taking the shot herself. Her ball hit the back of the net, way out of reach for Daphne. 

Your team wanted to get the ball moving again quickly, waiting in the middle of the field for the whistle to blow. Luckily it didn’t take long for Daan to shoot the ball over the top, for Damaris to pick up. Damaris ran forwards as Mary came charging forward to get the ball, with one swift motion she lobbed the ball over the English goalkeeper, to once again make the score level. 

Both teams were fighting for the goal to put them ahead again, but as the minutes passed by, that goal didn’t seem to come. The ninety minutes had been played, you had just four more minutes of added time before you would have to go into extra time, something you really weren’t hoping for. You knew your teammates well and could see that they were exhausted from the match already. 

You were in the last minute of stoppage time when Vic managed a clean tackle earning her the ball. She looked up and kicked it to you, but you were quickly surrounded by England jerseys, so you passed the ball off to Esmee. The young player didn’t even look before lining up her shot, knowing that if she took her time she would be surrounded the same way as you were. You watched the ball fly into the penalty area where Viv and Damaris were ready to head the ball towards goal. It was Damaris who managed to connect her head to the ball. Time seemed to slow down as the ball moved towards the goal, and right over the tips of Mary’s stretched out hands. It sped up again once it hit the back of the net. 

Damaris ran to the  rest of the team at the sidelines, with all the players on the field following behind. Ending in one big group hug, with people jumping on each other, and tumbling over in excitement. A stoppage time goal to send you through to the semi-finals. 

Celebrating that moment with your team came first, but once you stepped away from the group, you looked for Leah instantly. You found her standing on the other side of the field, her hands on her thighs as she was leaning over in defeat. While you were happy for your team to make it to the next round, you were also gutted for her. 

You hug the England players you meet on your way to her, all of them being your friends as well, since you’ve been with Leah for years. When you made it to your girlfriend she had fallen onto her knees in the grass with tears falling down her face. You sit down on your knees in front of her and wrap your arms around her, “You played so well, darling.” You knew that no words were going to stop her from feeling this tough defeat, but you wanted her to know that she did good. “Made your team, and your country proud.” She buried her head into your chest, and you held her while rubbing your hands up and down her back. 

When Leah’s tears stopped flowing, the two of you sat down together. You wiped the tears of her cheeks, “I know that right now it might not feel like it, but you can be proud of yourself for your performance during this competition, both as an individual player, and the team captain. I know that I am, Leah, I am so proud of you.” 

Even though the defeat stung, Leah wanted to make sure that you knew that she was happy for you. “We’ll since we’re on the topic of being proud.” She started and you saw a slight smile appear on her face. “You did incredible, and you deserve to be a part of the final four. I am very proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself as well.” She hugs you tight, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

While playing against each other wasn’t easy, you knew that you would always be happy for the other, be supportive, and be proud of each other, no matter what. Your love for each other was bigger than the highs and lows of football.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[saikiflm]

My favorite part about sambucky is how unsaid everything is, those stares, brief moment of contact between them, those toothy grins whenever one of them makes an A1 comeback. It’s all airy, light, something they can sit in forever and never get tired of.

Yet god forbid one of them even has the thought of trying to contextualize it—scared that if they say it out loud everything will fall apart. All those moments read wrong because they both can’t commit to their obvious desires, desires that feel so far out of reach ever since their respective tragedies. But the heart wants what the heart wants and theres no way neither of them can will themselves to back away or put some type of distance between each other because fuck—that lingering touch, those stares, those smiles its all too much but so little it craves them wanting more, way more than they allow themselves on a good day.

It’s ironic that they both aren’t the type to dwell on feelings especially one that makes them this restless. So really, it’s only a matter of time before they feel as if in that moment tomorrow won’t exist when things are left unsaid.

[cyren-myadd]

AVATAR 3 TEASER RELEASED AT CINEMACON!!!

ITS AN EXCLUSIVE EVENT SO THE TEASER WON'T BE RELEASED PUBLICLY UNTIL MAY, BUT SOME OF THE FOLKS INVITED TO THE EVENT SHARED WHAT THEY SAW ONLINE AND HERE'S WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY...

🚨🚨🚨SPOILER WARNING BELOW THE CUT!!!🚨🚨🚨

I am so fucking excited right now, it sounds like everything I was hoping to get out of Avatar 3 and more!

-"We can't live like this, baby, we can't live with this hate," looks like the speculation about Neytiri having a character arc dealing with her anger towards sky people was right! Give this girl the character development she deserves 👏👏👏

-"there's a tense confrontation between Neytiri and the leader of the Ash People," yes please lets take a break from Jake and Quaritch constantly beefing and get a new arch nemesis! I bet Varang will be a narrative foil to Neytiri just how Quaritch is to Jake.

-We already knew the action and worldbuilding was gonna be jaw-dropping, but I'm just dying to see the windtrader ships, the aerial battles with the Ash Na'vi, and whatever happens in the final battle! I absolutely loved the water-based action in A2, but I'm dying to see more aerial stunts!! Hopefully something as grand as the battle of A1!!

-"Your goddess has no dominion here" kiri baby get behind me 😭 if the ash people are against eywa I'm scared they may target Kiri!

-Quaritch in Ash People paint!! Hell yeah 🔥🔥🔥 character development timeeeee

-"Jake hugs Spider" 🥹🥹🥹 please give that boy what he deserves Jake... though I'm a little concerned that it's mentioned right after the description of Jake confronting Neytiri over her anger. It makes me think the speculation about Jake wanting to take in Spider and Neytiri wanting to get rid of him are true, and part of the confrontation is because of Neytiri taking her anger out on Spider.

-And last but not least, the thing I'm most hyped about... "Spider is shown passing out with his helmet falling. He falls down a cliff."

ITS HAPPENINGGGGG THE LEAKS WERE TRUE! Spider's mask will break and Kiri will give him the ability to breathe (and possibly a kuru, but that one's still very much up in the air) Never thought I would be so hyped to hear about my favorite character falling off a cliff lmao, but that scene lines up perfectly with the leaks!

I'M SHAKING LIKE ONE OF THOSE LITTLE RAT DOGS IM SO EXCITED PLEASE KNOCK ME OUT UNTIL THE TEASER RELEASES I WANT TO SEE IT SO BADDDDD

[hcnnibal]

and what qualities does a1 fear having assigned to him?

a1 thinks about what people are thinking about him all the time so the list is quite long:

-uneducated and/or dumb

-poor

-unattractive/undesirable/unpopular

-behind on trends

-weird/unpleasant/out of place

-his authority not being recognized

-incompetent/inexperienced

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

“ and he gets A Look that makes your stomach flip “ i actually stopped breathing reading this bit. everything you write about karasu makes me so shy to think about. i’m gonna chew thrru the mounds of snow outside imagine the a1 banter and the tension i’m WDYM CRAZIEST DICK OF UR LIFE ????????? im hanging on by a thread

can't describe it's like... his eyes just get sooo intense and he has a smile on his face that is meant to read as more playful but just sooo obviously is not. you just know instantly you can't deny something so blatant rip.

and it really is the craziest dick of your life. karasu is just exceptionally gifted with foreplay while also playing it cool. so you're spread out in his lap getting fingered and stretched out by like. four of them and he's just talking you through the whole thing. you're naked and he's clothed and all of the other stuff you do is like that. it's just insane like truly. puts you on all fours and fingers you like he's fucking you with a hand pulling your hair a bit and asking what you want. just speak and he'll give it to u but u cant make out a sentence JKSDFK

he eats you out for good measure too for a long while but the dick is the crazy part. stroke game that is like indescribably perfect. i cant explain it. for a guy that thinks he is not very special his dick is terrifying

[donnyclaws]

THEY CALLED IT GODLAND

A1 posters for school, using my spec bio setting idea as the backbone. Only had 6 weeks to make everything you see here, truly and honestly drug me through the mud in a My chronic pain is much worse now kind of way. Happy with the work, bitter about how hostile university is ect. I'll post more development stuff from my backlog later, and it's something I want to keep working on. For now enjoy my penguins and open this in a new tab to read 🦭

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄  SITE   Kofi   Zines   Patreon  

[pommepom]

fun fact! pomme was originally meant to be kidnapped by elquackity but due to problems regarding the timezones they replaced her with egg a1.

''Pomme was supposed to be kidnapped (and lose a life) at one point as well. but because everything was delayed, and it was already 2/3 a.m in france and i was explaining to them that FR streamers were tired and wanted to go to sleep, it was replaced by 'Egg A1'''

[slumbrr-r]

(I'm sorry not sorry for spamliking ur blog lol)

Okay so you said that all A1s have the star emblem to signify them as such. We'll I was looking through the ref sheets and the only character who didn't have one is Shrimpo (and brightney) ik its prob just a case of you forgot but you said everything is done for a reason and now I'm just digging a deeper hole and probably overthinking this (oms that's a lot of words)

Brightney's (A1) star charm is on the left side of her head (near the ribbons)!

Shrimpo has a charm, but he keeps it under his uniform near his heart. He doesn't want it getting ruined since he's constantly dealing criminals and such.

[societyfolklore]

Favour - Part 2

Title: Favour (Part 2 of 3) Pairing: ClubOwner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  When your boyfriend messes up with the wrong people he offers you up as free labour in Bucky Barnes Club.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Smut (eventually) DubCon (squint), forced labour, Jerk boyfriend, groping, (hinted) domestic violence, swearing, threatening behaviour, eventual violence and blood.   

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for Bucky 108th Bday event  Will be posting the whole fic over March (hopefully)  Part One Here I'll admit this one feels a little clunky.. please be gentle, sometimes you just got to go with what you got (otherwise I'd been on this one for DAYS and I have other plans..) Square: a1 – Clubowner AU Card Number: 4B003

The Winter King isn’t just any club- it’s Bucky Barnes’ empire, and each night when you got behind the bar, you felt the weight of it.

You thought bartending wouldn’t be too bad. You’d done it in college, handled the late nights, the occasional grabby hands, the customers who slurred their words by the third drink. But this?

This was different.

The men who came here didn’t get drunk and rowdy the way they did in other places. The crowd only got loud on weekends, but even then, it wasn’t the same kind of chaos you’d known before. These people didn’t stumble over their own feet or slur their words until they could barely order. They knew exactly what they were doing.

They didn’t shout for your attention. They expected. Expected their drinks to be poured before they asked. Expected silence when they discussed business. Expected you to know when to disappear and when to stay put.

The club pulsed with something electric, dangerous. Even when you didn’t see him, you felt Bucky Barnes. His presence was woven into everything- the way the staff moved, the way conversations hushed when he walked through, the way people seemed to breathe differently when they caught his eye.

Your days still followed the same pattern- waking up, dressing in your office clothes, sitting in your tiny cubicle, sending emails, attending meetings. Your nights, however, had become something else entirely. It had only been a few weeks. It felt so much longer.

But some things didn’t change.

Brock. He was still making this harder for you than it needed to be.

You barely had a second to breathe before you saw him- slouched at the bar like he belonged there.

Brock didn’t wave you over. He expected you to come to him.

You hesitated, just for a second. A fleeting pause that wouldn’t mean anything to him, but you felt it- the weight of it.

It wasn’t just that he expected it. It was the way he always did. Like it was your place, like you had no say in it. Like he owned you.

But you still moved, because you always did. Because fighting wasn’t worth it.

You didn’t want to. But you did. You had to.

You were supposed to be working, taking care of the people who actually paid, barmaid to your boyfriend. But that never seemed to matter to Brock.

You set a glass down in front of him- one of your two staff drinks for the night.

He smirked, lifting it like it was some grand gesture, like you were doing him a favor instead of him taking what he always did.

"Skirt’s getting high, sweetie."

Your fingers curled around the bar’s edge, but you didn’t answer. He always did this- commented on the uniform Barnes had given you, like you had any choice in what you wore. Like you had any choice in anything anymore.

not playing

"Thought you only wore that lip color when I take you out," Rumlow tilted his head, his eyes tracking your mouth like it belonged to him. "What are you wearing it here for?"

When was the last time he had actually taken you anywhere?

"It’s for tips," you muttered. "You know- to get us out of this mess."

Rumlow laughed. Loud. Arrogant. Like the whole situation was funny.

Your shoulders locked tight, the muscles in your back tensing as if bracing for impact. A bitter taste crawled up your throat, but you swallowed it down.

He wasn’t laughing at the situation.

He was laughing at you.

Like you were the joke.

"I gotta go see to the tables. Don’t be a nuisance."

You turned before he could say anything else, leaving him there with his drink, his gaze burning into your back as you walked away.

Rumlow found you before he left.

He had already blown through his free drinks, but that was never enough. He always wanted more- more attention, more control, more of you.

His hand landed heavy on your hip, fingers curling into the fabric of your uniform like he had every right to touch you. You flinched, but he didn’t let go. His grip tightened, fingertips pressing into your skin, possessive, claiming.

"Don’t wear your legs out, baby," he murmured, his fingers slipping lower, gripping the inside of your thigh, pressing his palm against you through the thin fabric. "Wouldn’t want you too sore to spread 'em for me later. me to start feeling neglected would you, huh?"

The words slithered down your spine like oil, thick and suffocating. The weight of his breath, hot and reeking of whiskey, fanned across your neck. You swallowed the nausea bubbling up your throat.

Too much. Too close. Too public.

You forced yourself to stand still, to stay composed, while his hands lingered where they shouldn’t.

"Brock," you warned, voice a whisper edged with unease.

He didn’t care. He never did.

His chuckle was lazy, confident, laced with that same sickening entitlement and ownership he always carried. "What? You embarrassed? C’mon, sweet thing, gimme a kiss before I go."

You tensed as he leaned in, the stench of alcohol thick on his breath. His lips ghosted over your cheek before dipping lower, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your jaw.

Heat crept up your face- not from desire, but from humiliation. Your skin crawled under his touch.

You wanted to shove him away, wanted to yank his hands off you, break free.

But the club was watching.

Eyes were everywhere.

So, you smiled instead- thin, tight, something that didn’t reach your eyes.

Like always.

And as Rumlow finally pulled away, muttering something about seeing you later, you caught a glimpse of something in your peripheral vision.

A shadow. A presence. Watching.

Bucky.

His gaze was unreadable from across the room, but you felt it settle over you like a second skin.

He saw everything.

And for the first time that night, a different kind of unease curled in your stomach. A cold shiver traced its way down your spine, a prickle at the base of your neck. The weight of Bucky’s stare settled over you like a second skin- unshakable, inescapable. He had seen everything. And he wasn’t looking away. *#*#*#*

It was your third weekend working when Brock decided to make another appearance, this time bringing the 'boys' along. You suspected he had stopped by to 'drop off' to Barnes before making himself comfortable in one of the booths. You were used to most of them- used to the crude language, the obnoxious jokes, the way they carried themselves like they owned every room they walked into.

You’d sat them in a corner, hoping to contain them, to keep their presence from spilling over onto the rest of the floor. If anyone was going to deal with them, it should be you. They were your burden.

As you bent over to place their drinks on the table, Jack pushed it too far.

It started with a brush of his fingers, a light touch at your waist as you leaned forward to set a glass in front of Brock. You stiffened as his hand moved lower, sliding over the small of your back. You tried not to react, to ignore it, to hope he’d stop on his own.

He didn’t.

You straightened, stepping away. Jack followed. He stood, crowding into your space, his scarred face split into a lazy smirk.

"Aww, don't get all shy on us now."

The table laughed.

You held the tray against your stomach, fingers tightening around the edges. God, his whole expression reminded you of a shark. You turned, looking at Brock, waiting for him to say something, to intervene. But he didn’t. Didn’t even look.

Jack’s hand slid lower. A bold squeeze at your hip, fingers digging in like he had a right to you.

You stiffened. "Stop. Jack..."

God, they were always like this when they drank. You should have cut them off a round ago. But Brock had already started grumbling when you hesitated to serve them their last round.

Jack tilted his head. "Make me."

The laughter swelled around you, loud and taunting. Rollins grinned. Brock crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat, still not caring.

Jack’s hand moved again- firmer this time, testing, lingering.

You grabbed his wrist, shoving it away. "I said stop. I'm working."

A chorus of mocking laughter. A scoff from Rollins.

"Relax, sweetheart, just having fun."

Jack took a step closer, pulling you into him.

And then-

He was gone.

One second he was there- smirking, groping. The next, he was being yanked backward, fast, hard.

A chair scraped against the floor. A muffled grunt. Someone stumbled.

And then? Just the steady thrum of the music.

No raised voices. No threats.

Just movement. Precise. Deadly.

You blinked, turning your head toward the entrance. Brock, Jack, and the others were being hauled out of the club like garbage on collection day.

Your breath came short, shallow, but no one said a word to you. The table was a mess- spilled drinks, abandoned glasses.

You swallowed, pushing past the tremor in your hands as you reached for the rag tucked into your belt. Clean up. Move on. Keep your head down.

You had barely set the first glass onto the tray when a hand closed around your wrist.

"Someone else can handle that," a voice murmured, low and sure. "Why don’t you take a break?" Your pulse stuttered. Slowly, you turned your head- blue eyes locked onto yours. "Go. Sit. Down. Doll"

Bucky’s voice was measured, calm, but there was something in it, something unchallengeable.

You straightened, hesitated, then shook your head and continued stacking the overturned glasses onto the tray. Busy hands kept the world steady.

"I'm fine," you murmured. "Really."

Sitting meant admitting that you hadn’t had control of the situation, that you hadn’t been able to handle it on your own. That you weren’t in charge of your own life anymore- not with Brock, not with your boss at the agency, and now, not with Barnes.

Your nights belonged to him now. Nothing was yours anymore.

"You're shaking."

You swallowed. "Just a scare. No harm, no foul. Boys get out of hand, I should’ve- "

What excuse were you going to offer this time? For Brock? For his friends? For yourself?

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "No one touches the staff. Just a rule. No matter who they are."

There was something else in his voice, something edged and final, and when you made yourself look up, really look at him, your pulse hammered harder.

He didn’t need to say it.

You were under Bucky Barnes’ protection now.

Whether you wanted to be or not. *#*#*#*

The street outside the club was thick with the city’s night air- damp, buzzing with the energy of people spilling out of bars and stumbling toward taxis. But you barely noticed. Because Brock was there.

Leaning against the brick wall like he’d been there for hours, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. He straightened when he saw you, his stance unsteady, his movements sluggish. Still drunk.

You barely had time to react before his hand clamped around your arm.

“What took you so long?” The words slurred, thick with the stench of bourbon, sweat, and something bitter underneath.

You tried to jerk your arm away. “I was working you know I have to-"

His grip tightened. Too strong. Too familiar. “Swear you’re starting to like it in there.” His voice turned sharp, words biting at the edges. Accusing.

You rolled your eyes, exhaustion curling into your bones. The kind of exhaustion that lived under your skin, made your limbs feel heavy, your breath short. You were always tired.

Tired of Brock. Tired of his moods, his endless complaints, his expectations. You gave and gave, and it was never enough.

Two jobs. A life spent keeping him afloat. Cutting corners, skipping meals when rent ran too high, covering his messes, standing by him when you should have left. He demanded, took, bullied. And you? You let him.

But not tonight.

You stumbled forward when he yanked you closer, your breath hitching as your body collided with his. The sudden movement sent your heart slamming against your ribs, a sharp, panicked rhythm that you couldn’t suppress. His grip was unrelenting, his fingers pressing into your skin, and for a moment, you thought he might not let go. Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out the distant murmur of the city, of the club just behind you. You tried to pull back, but his hold only tightened, dragging you further into his orbit. "You think you’re special just ‘cause Barnes lets you work here?" His breath was hot, thick with alcohol, and your stomach twisted at the rancid scent. A chill ran down your spine, your body torn between the instinct to freeze and the desperate urge to break free.

The words hit differently than they should have. Not because he was jealous- he wasn’t. But because you could hear it.

The desperation.

His anger wasn’t at Bucky.

It was at you.

Because you weren’t grovelling. Because you weren’t apologizing. Because you had stopped caring.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed you again- harder.

“Don’t care what he’s put in your head. You’re mine.” His voice dropped lower, a growl in his throat. His fingers dug into your wrist, unyielding, bruising. "Your in there because I put you there!"

Your breath caught. Your pulse slammed against your ribs. His hand twitched.

You saw it- the way his fingers flexed, the way his wrist shifted ever so slightly, lifting, poised.

The moment stretched, suffocating, as if the entire world had narrowed to that single, unspoken decision hovering between you. He could do it. You knew that. You weren't holding your cheek right now because he'd decided. Not because you stopped him. Not because you could have.

His hand hovered there for a second too long before he dropped it. Like he was granting you mercy.

You exhaled sharply, the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding spilling past your lips in a shudder. Your whole body felt wired, braced for something that hadn’t come- not this time.

Then, he shoved you. Not hard enough to send you sprawling, but enough to remind you that he could have. That you were his to move, to control, to keep in line.

Your feet stumbled against the pavement as he forced you down the street, his fingers clamped around your wrist like a cuff.

"You think you’re somethin’ now, huh? Just ‘cause you got some eyes on you?" His voice was a low growl, meant just for you. "Barnes might like to look, but he ain’t gonna save you. He ain’t gonna take you home. You’re mine, sweetheart- always have been."

"It's not like that Brock, you know that.." Brock stopped glaring at you, pulling you down the street. But you felt it again.. A pressure- a presence. Turning your head back towards the building.

As your gaze lifted, heart hammering in your throat.

Bucky.

Upstairs. Standing at his office window. Watching.

Expression unreadable. Hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t watching everything.

Rumlow didn’t notice. Too caught up in his own temper, too wrapped up in whatever twisted logic had convinced him he still had any say over you.

But you noticed.

And for the first time that night, a different kind of unease settled in your stomach. *#*#*#*

You didn’t hear Bucky come in.

The storeroom was small, the hum of the refrigeration unit the only sound as you stacked bottles onto the shelves. The cold air did little to stop the warmth creeping up your neck. You should have expected him. You hadn’t seen him in days- not since the weekend. Not since Brock and Jack... But still, he felt like a shadow. Some predator lurking in the corners of your vision, a dog standing guard. Even when he wasn’t there, you felt him, like the prickle at the back of your neck before a storm breaks.

You found your spine stiffen as you went about the task of restocking the bottles, you were too tired to put up walls. To attempt to hide how uncomfortable you were.

“You prefer to keep your head down don't you?" You didn't look up at his question. "you work hard. You don’t complain.”

His voice was low, approving.

You stiffened further, fingers tightening around the glass bottle in your hands. You were expecting him mention the way you'd been hauled down the street, after he'd made sure you were safe inside his walls. You expected disapointment in his voice.

"Just, doing my part." You exhaled through your nose, carefully placing the bottle onto the shelf. “I’m sorry- for the other night. I’ll tell Brock and his friends not to come anymore.”

A slow hum. A breath of consideration.

“Not your actions to be sorry for, doll.”

You turned to face him then, already regretting it. He was standing too close, blocking the only exit, his broad frame filling the space. His scent- cedar and something darker, something you'd noticed was unmistakably him- wrapped around you.

His eyes flicked over you, assessing, measuring.

You were more aware of the 'play marks' Brock had left on your skin, the ones your clothes barely covered. Did he see them? You played with the collar of your shirt making sure the top button was done up.

The way Bucky looked at you made your stomach twist. Like he already knew**.**

Your fingers flexed at your sides, as if you could shake off the phantom weight of Rumlow’s hands, his voice still lingering in your ears. "Wouldn’t want Barnes thinking you’re saving yourself for him, huh?"

Your stomach clenched, a heat crawling up your spine.

Bucky’s eyes dropped, tracking the way your hands curled into the hem of your uniform, a small tell that you weren’t as composed as you wanted to be.

“You’re shaking again.”

You swallowed, straightened your back. “Just been a long week already. Didn't get the chance to eat lunch that- ”

Bucky didn’t let you finish. He exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled, like he was biting back something sharper, his hand lifting just slightly.

You fought the urge to flinch.

"Sorry- did you want something from in here?" You asked, reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself.

"Ardbeg, the ten-year-old."

Something in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Final. Absolute.

The air between you shifted, stretched thin. You could feel the heat of him, the way his body barely moved but still felt closer.

You turned to grab the bottle from one of the higher shelves, your breath catching when you turned back and his fingers brushed yours as he took it from your hand.

It was fleeting, but intentional.

“Brock seems to think you belong to him,” he murmured, tilting his head. "Seems to think he can do whatever he wants with you. Even offering you up to me.."

Your throat felt tight. You swallowed, but it didn’t help.

His voice dipped lower, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Is that what you want?”

Your pulse kicked up, a sharp, sudden thing you couldn’t control. You hated that he got to you. That he made you feel something. You were here because you were loyal. Brocks mess was your mess, that was the whole point. You weren't allowed to doubt.

But Bucky caught it. You knew he did. The way his mouth moved, the light shifting in his eyes. He knew what he was doing. Making you feel like you were standing on quicksand.

“A shame,” he murmured, blue eyes glittering under the dim storage light. “A girl like you, wasted on a useless piece of shit like him.”

The words landed like a gut punch. Because they were true. You just didn't beleive them, not really. Brock had his hands on you just because he could. Because he knew you wouldn’t stop him.

But how was Bucky any different? They were all violent, dark men. The only difference was that Bucky made you step into the fire on your own.

The silence between you grew heavy, charged with something unspoken, something sharp.

Then, he leaned in, just a fraction, voice smooth as silk, pressing the knife in just a little deeper. The weight of his words settled over you, curling in your chest like a cold knot. It wasn’t just a question- it was a challenge, a slow, deliberate pull at the loose threads you’d been trying to keep from unraveling. A sinking feeling gripped you, the kind that made your stomach twist, that whispered in the back of your mind that you were running out of excuses. Running out of time.

“Tell me something, sweetheart- what exactly do you need him for?”

The words settled deep, twisting into the parts of you you’d spent so long ignoring. The parts that knew you deserved better, that whispered how tired you were of carrying the weight of someone else’s failures.

Your breath stilled in your chest. You tried to conjure up a reason, something- anything- to justify Rumlow, to justify your place at his side, but the words sat heavy on your tongue. They wouldn’t come.

Bucky watched you, waiting, letting the silence stretch until it wrapped around your ribs like a vice.

"You seem to do much better, not carrying deadweight."

Bucky shifted back slightly, his attention flicking from the bottle in his hand to you. His fingers tightened just a fraction around the glass, the movement subtle, controlled. His expression didn’t change, but something unreadable passed through his eyes- calculated, lingering. A moment stretched between you, tense and expectant, before he finally spoke, voice smooth, deliberate.

"Something to think about, when all this is over." The weight of his words still pressed into your skin, heavy, inescapable.

And just like that the conversation was over.

You exhaled only when the door swung shut behind him, the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding spilling past your lips in a shaky rush. Your hands found the edge of the nearest shelf, gripping it just to steady yourself. The air in the storeroom felt heavier, still thick with the weight of his presence. You rubbed your arms, trying to chase away the lingering chill, but it did nothing to shake the feeling that he had left something behind- something unseen, something crawling beneath your skin. The room still felt too small, too full of him, even in his absence.

His words echoed, curling into the quiet corners of your mind, sinking into the space Brock had carved out in you over the years.

Why did he say it like that?

Like ‘when all this is over’ wasn’t too far away.