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genshindsau · 1 year ago

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Summary: Dom/sub Universe. Aether always prided himself on following your rules - never one to break them. Yet, two weeks without you left him teetering on the edge until he finally wasn't able to handle it. However, what he didn't expect was for you to get home a few days early, much less to catch him in such a compromising position. He knew begging wouldn't help, neither would false promises, he was going to be punished regardless.

Cw: sub!aether, dom!reader, dom/sub relationship, sexual rules, non-sexual rules, masturbation, spanking, voyeurism, degradation, commands, anal, light degradation, dubious consent (Aether is in pain but he doesn't ask reader to stop), everything is consensual, safewords are implied, oral (Aether receiving), pain from overstimulation

Aether trembled under his own ministrations. Even with one hand focusing on jerking his weeping cock and the other stuffing two fingers inside of him, he couldn't get past the barest amount of pleasure. He fell forward, his face pressed into the pillow as he tried to mimic the movement you would do. Curling his fingers, grinding back against them and clenching around them as they failed to reach deep inside of him. He tightened his grip around his cock before moving to swipe his thumb over his slit, toying with the small entrance.

Fuck, he internally cursed, tears burning behind his eyelids. If it were your hands doing this he already knew he would have come at least twice but now because he was so accustomed to your touch he was unintentionally edging himself. Hanging right on the edge left him sensitive and he couldn't help the flood of shame washing over him. He shouldn't be doing this, he was breaking a rule and it wasn't like him. He took pride in following your rules, sure sometimes he would playfully tease you but he never once outright broke your rules. But you've been gone for so long. Its been over two weeks which is the longest the two of you have ever been separated since getting together.

He could recite the rules you gave him before leaving without any hesitations. One, make sure he eats three proper meals and drinks at least two glasses of water; two, that he gets at least seven hours of sleep; and three, no touching himself. The first rule was easy to follow especially since you meticulously preprepared meals that would last a while for him that he could easily heat up or cook. The second one was a little more difficult for two reasons. He couldn't sleep as well without you and would wake up sometimes in the middle of the nights and other times work got in the way. However, he managed to fulfill these two rules.

For the third rule, the first week was easy - he was busy with a project for work so it wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind. However, as the second week rolled around and he finished his project he had time to relax. One night he was mindlessly scrolling on his phone and came across more intimate photos of the two of you. The arousal that swirled in his gut left him curling into himself. Even while staring at a picture of your blissed out face and his cum covering your stomach he refrained from touching himself.

One day, turned into two, turned into three, then as the forth day hit he spent the entire day trying to redirect his focus from the hard-on in his pants. He finally crumbled after the two of your talked for almost an hour over the phone that morning. Hearing your voice and the subtle teases that he knew you were doing on purpose caused his control to slip - it didn't help that when he called you, it was nighttime where you were so he had fully view of your sleepy look and raspy voice. As soon as you two hung up he made his way into your guys shared bed, clothing being flung onto the floor. He fell onto his stomach and his hips jerked against the crumbled up sheets.

That led him to where he was now with his own fingers stuffed inside of him and his other hand letting go of his cock to grip one of his butt cheeks, pulling them apart to try and reach deeper.

"hah - mgh," his cock dragged on the comforter beneath him, his hips lurching forward. The pads of his fingers were pushing against his walls seeking out that one spot you always hit with such precision and left him sobbing and shaking underneath your own body.

The thought of you learning about his rule breaking had completely vanished from his mind. He bit down on the pillow and his tears finally fell - one drop cascading down his cheeks before another followed and then another…

"Seriously," your voice cut through the room and he froze, his hands stilling.

"Y/n," he stuttered. Scared to turn around he brought his hands to the pillow.

"That’s all you've got to say?" You ponder as you took him in. His head was angled down to stare at the bed sheets and his fingers were clutching at the sheets tight enough that his knuckles were whitening. "Couldn't even last two weeks without needing something inside of you, could you?"

He burned underneath your gaze and the words you said. Embarrassed that what you said had some truth to it.

"Not to mention the fact that you broke one of the rules." Due to his head being downcast he couldn't see you as your stalked towards him. "I only gave you three and yet you broke one of them."

"I," he hesitated on what to say. "I'm sorry." He whispered out, his voice cracking.

"Its hard to believe that pathetic apology, especially with the way you dripping all over the sheets and well this," Two of your fingers delicately ran over his rim which fluttered underneath your soft touch.

His breath came out in harsh pants. You let out a small whistle, "Must have been going at it for a while, considering how open this is." Two of your fingers easily slipped inside of him. His hips jerked forward and he tried to pull away, "Don’t move."

He body froze as the command settled over him. The feeling washed over him, traveling up to his head causing his body to go lax.

"did you cum?" You asked in such a condescending tone that it left him shriveling underneath you. You knew that answer. You knew that he was conditioned to your touch and your touch alone.

"I - agh - i…" He tried to gets words out but with your fingers spreading him out, stretching him so that there was just bearable sting his mouth hung open, tongue hanging out.

"You.. You," you repeated back to him, mocking him.

"ahh," the resounding smack to the back of his thighs left him trying to squirm away, his hands cling onto the sheets trying to pull himself forward and away from your hands.

"Answer me."

It was a command. He had to answer. The command left him lightheaded as his mind failed to follow through right away.

"no," You rewarded him with a curl of your fingers as he answered. "nono. I didn't. couldn't." He gasped out in one breath, the feeling of being on the precipice of an orgasm wrecking his mind.

"Couldn't?" you repeat back to him. "Why not?"

You were teasing him with your words while your hand inched in another finger.

"be-because - nghh," Feeling your fingers (was it three, or was it four, he wasn't sure) curl inside of him he couldn't finish speaking. His thighs shook as his bottom lifted from the sheets, spasming around your fingers. "It wasn't," a breath was forced out of him, "it wasn't you."

He heard a small laugh leave you and then the angling of your fingers grazing the inside of him and pressing the pads of your fingertips - "ahhh" he wailed out as his body heated up, cock bobbing and spilling out all over the sheets.

"There you go," your other hand rubbed the small of his back, a false comfort even as your fingers refused to stop their movement. "Good boy."

He wasn't even able to come down from his first orgasm because your continued to curl your fingers, pressing insistently inside of him. "You really didn't think I'd just let you get off with breaking the rules?"

His mouth opened to reply but all that came out were harsh pants. "no. I just - I thought - mhh," his body trembled and spasmed as he came again, this time falling against the sheets, your fingers slipping out of him. In turn, your hands went to his butt cheeks, opting to palm them. "I thought you wouldn't let me," he hesitantly whispered out, embarrassed at having to voice this thought out.

Instead of replying right away, your hands moved to his hips and forced his body to turn around so that he was on his back. It was the first time since you've found him that he was able to properly look at you. The desire in your eyes left him stunned. "Is that so." You hummed and he nodded.

"Perhaps I shoudn't." You ran one finger down his softening cock. "Afterall, do you know how shocked I was that Aether, my Aether, was touching himself when he knew not too." You feign a sigh and shrugged your shoulders. "I mean you breaking my rules, that’s practically unheard of."

He sniffled, upset with himself and the despair that came from your words.

"You're usually so good," As you finished talking your wrapped one hand around his cock, perhaps a bit too tight but a punishment wasn't suppose to be all pleasurable. "Who knew that you're actually a slut who couldn't even keep his own hands off of himself."

"I'm not." His voice wobbled, tears beading in his eyes. His hips lurched up, cock slowly swelling up one more. "I'm good," he corrected himself, "I can be good."

You pulled your hand away and licked the tip of your thumb before bringing it back down to his own cock. With the swipe of your thumb, you picked up the lingering wetness seeping out of his slit. The feeling of your finger rubbing at his head left his back arching, the arousal building at an almost painful rate.

Hands scrambled downwards, trying to grab at your wrist. A smack filled the room as you slapped his hands away. "Keep them to yourself."

A sob was stuck in his throat. Your second hand came down to cup his balls, squeezing them and rolling them in your palm. His stomach tightened underneath the warmth of your touch, mouth falling open. The pressure continued to build in him and as the recurring jolts of pleasure shot through him, he emptied onto himself, some of it coming to land on his own cheek.

With the pleasure still coursing through him, he was dizzy with his lust. The aftereffects of the orgasm continued to wrack his body, leaving him twitching underneath you. He wasn't even able to recognize your hand which continued to jerk him off, even as he softened once more.

His upper body lurched up, trying to curl up into himself but he was stopped by your own body. The warmth emitting from your body left him defenseless as he collapsed against you. You slowed your movement but continued to run your hand around his cock. His thighs trembled and tried to close but was unable to due to you sitting in between them.

"mghh, I - ah," his head fell to your neck, breath coming out in uneven pants. "y/n, pleaseplease," he wasn't even sure what he was asking, his mind muddled with the pleasure and the pain starting to bleed through. Your free hand wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to you.

"c'mon love, one more, you can do that for me right." You cooed and bit down on his ears. "Don't you want to be good for me." It was manipulative but all he could hear was the words repeating in his head 'want to be good for me, good for me, good for me'

He nodded, "I do," he gasped out. "I'll be good." He jerked in your grasp, his hips trying to squirm away, the aching and itchy feeling sinking in. "bu-but.." his body hurt, his cock wasn't working right, he wasn't hard and the pleasure was quickly be replaced with pain. "I don’t th-think I can," his voice broke in between.

His arms came to latch around your shoulders as he was overcome with the need to cry out. "It hurts," he whimpered out. "please."

He felt your chest move as you sighed and your hand retracted from him. His chest burned. In his hazy mind he took that sigh as a sign that you were disappointed in him. One hand came to pull his head back and away from your shoulders. You cupped your palm to his feverish cheeks and he practically melted into the touch.

"I'll give you a minute to calm down but this is a punishment, its not suppose to be completely pleasurable." You reminded him. "You remember what to do if it truly gets too much, right?"

He took in a few deep breaths and nodded. The pain and pleasure were lingering but not nearly as strong and as encompassing as before.

"Alright, lay back." You put your hand on his chest to push him back down onto his back and he couldn't help the pout that formed on his lips. A small smile formed on your lips and you ran a finger over his bottom lip.

Your hands ran over his chest and down his stomach and his body squirmed at the soft touch. His stomach was soaked in sweat and lingering remnants of his previous orgasms. He tensed, expecting to feel your touch on his cock but instead you passed it, picking up all the remaining mess on his stomach and traveling to his thighs.

You pushed his thighs further apart, letting him feel the uncomfortable tightness from his muscles being pulled. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his thighs. He relished in the soft touches and the wetness that came from your lips.

Once you were satisfied you moved to the other, making sure to sink your teeth in enough to leave lasting marks. He flinched at the pain from your teeth but that pain quickly morphed into pleasure.

When one of your fingers prodded at his hole, his legs jerked, moving to bend them so that he feet were flat on the bed. Three of your finger slid right into him and Aether let out a pleasurable moan. This touch was much more bearable compared to the direct contact on his cock.

While curling your fingers inwards, you moved to pull your fingers back before thrusting them in. Whines filled the room along with wet sounds as your fingers moved. If Aether was more aware, he would be embarrassed but all he could feel was the tightening all throughout his body, his legs kicking out as his hips jerked up. His whole body felt like it was lighting up, the arousal wrack through every crack and crevice through his body.

"y/n,y/n,y/n" it seems like all he could say was your name as he spilled over himself. His eyes were half lidded, wanting to shut due to the pleasure but also not wanting to look away from you.

He wailed out as you slowed down your fingers but continued to move them more purposefully inside of him. You knew exactly where to aim and hit and it seems that you were done holding back. He felt your other hand pressing his waist down, ensuring that he couldn't squirm away.

As the third orgasm hit him, his movements lost the force behind them, allowing you to easily maneuver him or hold him down however you wanted. His head was resting against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling through blurry eyes. Tears cascaded freely down his cheeks and fell off of his chin. His lips were dropped open, pants and cries passing through them.

As you leaned down, your lips passed over the skin of his cock. You could tell he has finally fallen into that blissful headspace as he barely reacted, if anything he moved as if to get more of the stimulation despite the dull pain of the overstimulation registering in the back of his mind.

You ran your tongue from the bottom of his cock up until you got to the head. When you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked Aether keened, his back arching and hips twitching. He let out a soft whimper, his voice not stable enough to do anything too loud. You continued to suck and twirl your tongue, inching a little more of him down your throat.

He couldn't even warn you as he came, his cum filling your mouth as you drank it down. There wasn't much, not even enough to fill your mouth, indicating just how many time he had came. As you pulled off you suspected that by the next orgasm he wouldn't have anything left inside of him.

He was shaking, the pain setting in and becoming more prominent as you continued to play with him. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, unable to form any words.

You pulled back all forms of contact. Aether trembled underneath your gaze. Even without you touching him, his body felt like all the nerves were exposed, red-hot heat bubbling underneath his skin threatening to burst at the slightest touch from you.

You leaned forward, pushing back the sweaty strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Looking at his spit-slicked lips, the glossy shine on his face all you wanted to do was kiss him but you refrained. You would only kiss him after his punishment was done.

In a daze, his eyes fixated on your form hovering above him. He instinctively tried to lean up, chasing your blurry frame. It was amusing to see him try but his body felt like it was floating and yet at the same time, held down so he struggled to even lift his head.

A chuckle filled the room as you used one hand to press down on his forehead causing him to fall back. His breathing had calmed down, regulating to a normal speed. You took this moments to let your hands travel around his body. Your cupped his neck, letting your thumb graze his jaw, trailed down his chest, smiling as he jerked when you twisted his nipples, and then his stomach.

"Easy love," you cooed out as he jerked as your touch got lower and your ran your nails around his base, where the skin met.

He heard the words, could tell that you were speaking but they didn't compute. His body reacted on its own, squirming and trying to move away from the feeling.

"huhh - nnoo - ungh," Aether tried to speak despite his muddled mind but only small sounds left him. He felt the stretch of his rim as you reinserted four fingers.

"Just a little more sweetheart," the pain steadily built up, encompassing the pleasure this time. His hands flailed around, trying to grab onto you but you easily smacked them away. "One more love, just one more then we'll be done."

You roughened your movements, curling finger into him and your other hand moved to his softened cock that was resting on the mess on his stomach. A wail was punctured out of him, his voice cracking. He could barely feel the pleasure, instead he ached deep inside and yet his body continued to build up to his orgasm. His stomach was wildly tensing and contracting.

The uncomfortable feeling continued to build until his back arched a final time, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. His body spasmed and you watched as nothing came out of him. He wasn't able to calm down, shaking as sobs left his lips. "sorry," he hushed out, voice barely audible. "sorrysorrysorry," he shook his head rapidly. "wo-won't do it ag-again."

You gently shushed him and maneuvered him into your lap, his body pliant underneath your hands. You dragged his head to rested on your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. You brought your other hand to cover his free ear, ensuring that he could just focus on the one thing.

"You did so good love," you littered kisses to the side of his head. With how badly he was trembling you thought about giving him a command, wanting him to calm down when he was obviously struggling but you opted against it. It could also make things worse. His mind, as dazed as it was, would unconsciously recognize the words and do what you said but if his body reacted faster than his mind did it could cause problems in the future with his response to commands. Instead you just held him close and worked on doing everything you knew from past experiences that would help him come back to himself.

With his head on your chest, "I did follow the other rules though." He quietly added, finally starting to come back to himself.

You laughed and then pressed a kiss to his forehead. "That’s good sweetheart."

#genshin au #dom reader #sub character #genshin smut #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #d/s au #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #sub aether #sub!aether #aether smut #aether x reader

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safetycar-restart · 10 months ago

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D/s au with a mix of drivers (F1 and MotoGP) where their dom has a family emergency and has to leave them before a race for a few days and some of them r really worried for her and some are just sobbing cause she's not there with them

OOOOHH Okay okay I've actually never even thought about this before and I kinda love this concept? It's so angsty but also so good. So I'm gonna discuss this concept with a few different drivers and riders and then I can always expand on some of these thoughts in another ask or discuss someone else, just let me know :))

I also made this happen during a race weekend or just before a race weekend, so that they didnt have the option to come with.

CHARLES:

Charles's first instinct is to go with you? In fact he doesn't even consider the option that you might be leaving him, because he's your sub? Of course he would go with you? But then you remind him that he has to leave the next day for a race weekend, so there's no way he can go with and he has to go to the race weekend by himself.

That's when Charles starts panicking, because no? No that's not an option? Of course he understands that you have a family emergency and you need to go, but he has to go with you. Because firstly, how could you handle the family emergency without your sub and secondly, how can he handle a race weekend without you?

He is an absolute mess that entire weekend, he crashes constantly, so much so that his team almost considers getting their reserve driver to race for him because it's genuinely dangerous. The moment the weekend is over, he flies straight to you, equal parts worried about you and upset from having to go through a race weekend without his dom.

MAX:

So I think for a very brief moment, Max would actually be angry with you? Because you always promised him that he would never have to go through a race weekend without you. You earned his trust by convincing him that you would never leave him, that you would always be there for him. And so when he finds out that you have to leave for a few days, there's a part of him that feels almost betrayed?

Almost immediately he feels terrible for that, and he feels terrible for it the entire time you're away. So much so that when you get back, he's actually a sobbing mess for that exact reason, apologising for not being more understanding about what you were going through and for only thinking about himself.

LANDO AND OSCAR:

So I think Lando and Oscar try to lean on each other the whole race weekend, seeking comfort in each other and cuddling together and trying their best to get through it. But they also try their best to down play how bad things really are?

Of course you keep in contact with them, calling and texting regularly and they both just act like they're doing okay. They both decide that you have too much to deal with and you can't also have to deal with your subs needing you, but the truth is that they cry themselves to sleep every night and are driving terribly and really really need their dom back.

LOGAN:

Logan, poor darling selfless Logan, immediately just feels terrible about the fact that he can't be there for you? He knows him not racing that weekend isnt even an option, so he has to go by himself while you handle your family emergency.

As much as he isnt looking forward to not having you with him at the race weekend, he's far more upset about the fact that you'll have to handle your family emergency without his support.

FABIO:

Fabio tries to put on a brave face, really he does. This lasts about 5 hours. And then he's calling you crying because his bike his shit and he needs his dom and he knows you're having a hard time and it's all just too much for your good boy.

It's the hardest race weekend he's ever had and he only gets through it because you instruct him to submit to Tom every night to stop him from dropping. He takes a red eye from the race straight to where you are and doesn't leave your side for the next month.

MARC:

I think Marc starts off okay, reassuring you that he'll be perfectly fine on his own and promising to send regular updates and that he'll take good care of himself. And for the first two days of the race weekend, that is true.

Until he crashes in qualifying on Saturday and doesn't have you there to look after him afterwards and he drops hard. He can't get out of it, no one can help. And it's so bad that you have to fly to the race weekend because they're actually considering hospitalising him because no one can help him and no one knows what to do.

You help him through it, and then he goes back to your home with you, in no place to race for the rest of the weekend.

#d/s au #angst angst vibes #sub!charles #sub!max #sub!lando #sub!oscar #sub!logan #sub!fabio #sub!marc #cl #mv #ln #oscarp #lsarge #mm #fq

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flfverse · 13 days ago

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traditional dynamics, part 1

so, like anything, there are still many different paths to take in practicing the traditional d/s dynamics in this world. however, this is going to include some of the most common ones.

traditionalism has mostly fallen out of fashion outside of older generations and the upper-upper class, but plenty of people still practice it, or mix parts of it with more modern norms. it is also very often used as a mask or excuse for abuse, bigotry, etc, but it is not inherently such.

in traditional frameworks, dominants are strong guardians and confident guides, while submissives are gentle caretakers and fierce protectors. true traditional doms are aware that a submissive can rarely be forced into anything, and that their communities (their circles, if you will) are incredibly strong. still, subs have needs that dominants do not, and they need to be properly cared for in order to thrive.

some more tenets, in no particular order, because i cannot be bothered:

all traditional relationships involve 24/7 dominance and submission. the exact intensity varies from relationship to relationship, but it's always present

common examples include submissives kneeling rather than sitting, especially at meals; public discipline; errands and chores framed as acts of service; doms choosing outfits, activities, meals; subs not being allowed to speak to doms alone, or at all without permission

the dominant is the head of the house, but the submissive is its heart. doms will speak to strangers and guests, take care of major decisions, etc, but if the sub is unhappy or distrustful of something, you best listen

(of note--a cultural holdover of this can be seen in Cross the Line chapter 5, when katsuki asks izuku if their friends can come into their home)

claimed submissives should always be obviously marked when in public. in some very strict beliefs, they aren't allowed out alone at all except for select (read: sub-only) gatherings

dating typically includes arranged contracts and bondings, often while the partners (or at least the submissive) are still underage

some are more lax these days, but the most staunch traditionalists still believe subs shouldn't work outside the home, since they are too vulnerable. a few groups have taken this to the logical end that doms shouldn't work outside the home, either, since that would leave their submissive unguarded at home, or that submissives should accompany their dom to work

("vulnerable" to a certain sense of the word, anyway. sub circles have been a known phenomenon for centuries, so there was/is a decent chance of your sub getting into a brawl while out and about instead of being taken advantage of)

in the case of a polyamorous relationship, there will be a hierarchy among the members, which can lead to one submissive having a certain level of power over another, etc. this can be based on age, who entered the relationship first, or any other factor the partners decide on

doms and subs alike tend toward corporal punishments above others, and tend to be stricter and harsher about even minor infractions

in some types of relationships, subs do not have a safeword, but instead have scheduled periods where they can renegotiate their limits if they choose. this is now illegal and very frowned upon, but still continues to be practiced (ie just because your contract has to say that you have a safeword doesn't mean you have to use it / technically you dont have to have a contract). obviously this can get very messy if anything goes wrong

obviously all traditional ideas are built pretty firmly on the idea of doms & subs only, so historically switches have had a difficult time fitting into them. there is a lot of pressure for a switch to either lean heavily into one side or the other or enter into a poly relationship where they can have both a dom and a sub. even switch/switch relationships don't really "work" due to the 24/7 nature of the thing

that's all for right now! i'm positive i'll think of more things later, and of course if you're curious about any of this and want me to expand on it, shoot me an ask!

#d/s au #flfverse #worldbuilding #tbh this is making me want to write positive trad dynamics but i'd have to thinky think on it

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prttygrlsv3kpop · 2 years ago

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Size kink w/ Mark

Him loving to fuck you because you’re short n can barely fit him inside, so working you up every time makes him unbelievably horny.

Loving how plump you are n how you look like a little baby when feeling good; eyes screwed shut, mouth agape with your puffy lips dripping drool..

Mark not being able to help it and shoving his fingers in your mouth, listening to you gurgle around them.

Squeezing your neck to watch your eyes roll back, body falling limp.

“My little squishy baby, laying here screaming for me while I fuck you stupid. You’re such a cute little slut.”

Mark loves the way your thighs fly shut when you’re getting close, or when he rubs your puffy little clit..

He always has to pry them opened again but he doesn’t mind..

#nct #dream #127 #nct 127 #nct dream #nct mark #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct smut #smut #mark lee #size k!nk #d/s au #0ral fixation #cw choking #manhandling #quick write

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kueble · 2 years ago

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I’m Fully Charged (Ready to Go)

This was written for the @witcher-bows-and-arrows prompt: Proposition.

This is also the start of something I’ve wanted to do for some time now. I’m making a D/s modern AU to play around in. It will start as friends with benefits, but you all know me, so that won’t last forever.

A lot of kinks are mentioned, but none of them are preformed, so I’m not tagging this post. Read the kinks below, please.

Mature, Warnings Kink Negotiation but no actual sex. Kinks mentioned: pitting, Cock warming, Feet, Slut shaming, Dirty talk, Breeding, Spanking, Collars, Biting, Lingerie, Praise kink. 2,800 Words

Geralt/Jaskier

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Sometimes it’s absolutely maddening to sit in his room with his headphones on while he knows full well what Geralt is getting up to in his room. They’ve been roommates ever since he and Yen finally got drunk and admitted they work better as friends, and Geralt never hid this side of him. But knowing his best friend - who he happens to be helplessly in love with - is on the other side of the apartment fucking someone? Sometimes that hurts.

It’s not like Jaskier has ever told Geralt how he feels, because they’re dreadfully incompatible. Geralt has his normal job down at the shop, and then he comes home and hangs up his jumpsuit for…a paddle or leather or whatever he wears. The thing is, as much as Jaskier knows Geralt is a dom with a few steady subs, he doesn’t actually know what they get up to.

Geralt doesn’t act ashamed of it, far from it, but he explained that anything he does with a partner is between the two of them. It’s not his place to share what happens inside his bedroom, and Jaskier respects that. Long gone are their college days where they would laugh and share crazy stories over Sunday morning diner breakfasts. Jaskier would never begrudge him privacy, but he can’t help feeling jealous over what he’ll never have.

Because Jaskier can never be what Geralt wants, as pathetic as that is. What dom wants a top? Jaskier has bottomed in the past - mostly to please his partners - but he definitely prefers topping. Not that it matters much these days, because his bedroom has been depressingly quiet ever since he and Valdo parted ways. Apparently dating one man while in love with another isn’t the best foundation for a relationship.

He feels like he could switch for Geralt, but he wouldn’t like it. A relationship built on completely changing something central to your sense of self isn’t going to last, and he desperately wants to spend the rest of his life with Geralt. Though the best he can hope for is friends anyway, since Geralt has made it clear he won't be dating anytime soon. As much as Jaskier gets along with Yen now, he kind of hates that she ruined that for him.

Jaskier sighs, hating this downward spiral of self-loathing. He takes his headphones off and doesn’t hear anything, so he feels it’s safe to venture out and find a snack to cheer himself up. It’s not like Geralt is ever super loud, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. There is absolutely no way he could continue on if he knew exactly what Geralt sounds like when he comes.

And with that thought, he steps out of his room and immediately makes eye contact with Liam. He’s sure he looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he manages a tiny wave before Liam awkwardly nods at him and hightails it out of the apartment. Geralt is in his own doorway, the living room spread between them, and he frowns over at Jaskier.

Before he can duck back into his room, Geralt stomps over and moves into his space, leaning against the door frame like he owns it. He studies Jaskier for a long moment before speaking. “Why did you glare at poor Liam? You’ve never been rude before.”

“I didn’t glare,” Jaskier argues, realizing he probably did. “I was caught by surprise! You know I don’t care about what you do with your subs!”

“Well ever since Valdo dumped you, you’ve been more and more weird about it,” Geralt points out.

“First off, I broke up with him. And secondly, I am not weird about anything,” Jaskier says with a huff. Geralt raises an eyebrow at him and he sighs before conceding, “Fine, maybe he broke up with me.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Geralt growls, stepping closer. “We’ve never lied to each other. Now what is your problem lately?”

“Fine! I’m jealous!” he shouts stupidly before rushing to cover up his admission. “Because I can’t ever have what they have. I can’t be a sub, can’t explore that, ok? And I hate it.” Yes, blame it on being curious. Nothing suspicious here. Plus it’s a half-truth, anyway. He can’t ever be Geralt’s sub, and it’s eating him up alive.

“You…you want to try being submissive but you can’t? Why not? Did someone tell you that? Because that’s a horrible thing to say. Everyone should be free to explore whatever they want, even if it doesn’t end up being something they love,” Geralt rushes out, all signs of a fight draining out of him in favor of his usual protectiveness.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says with a sigh. “You know I prefer to top. So it wouldn’t work out. I’m simply not sub material.”

“You’re joking, right? Plenty of subs top. There’s a whole fucking name for it! You might be a service top and just not know it. Shit, we have to figure this out. If you’re not being properly cared for, how can you ever be happy?” Geralt asks, and the way he pouts is enough to get Jaskier to agree to anything. There’s a reason why Geralt is at his best when he’s seeing to someone else’s needs. He was born for it, the self-sacrificing bastard.

“Oh,” Jaskier mumbles, blinking stupidly at him. “No one told me, I just…I just figured I couldn’t? But I could? Maybe? With the right person you’re saying?”

“Of course! I’ll help you,” Geralt offers, sending red flags up everywhere. Jaskier’s brain wants him to stop this before it starts, because there’s no way he can explore this with Geralt and not let on that he’s completely in love with him, but his mouth moves too fast like it always does.

“I’d like that.”

“Awesome! I mean, we’ve never been shy before, right? Plenty of friends have sex and it doesn’t have to mean anything. You know I don’t do relationships after Yen, anyway. Too many things can go wrong. We’ll just keep things simple and everything will be awesome! We can have fun with it!” Geralt says, practically bouncing on his heels like a giant puppy.

“Of course! You’ll always be my best friend, and nothing will change that,” Jaskier agrees, even though there are warning klaxons going off in his mind like he’s in some retro Star Trek episode. There is absolutely no way this will end well. But then Geralt slings an arm around him and starts babbling about how many friends he’s made through his lifestyle and how he can’t wait to introduce them all, and Jaskier realizes he wants this, especially if sex is all he’ll ever get.

He can do this. Probably. Maybe.

—

As Jaskier leans against the arm of the couch, looking over the top of his paper at where Geralt’s sitting in an armchair, he wonders is this real life?. Because even two days ago, he never would have imagined he’d be here, reading over a list of his roommate’s preferred kinks. Hell, he doesn’t even know what some of them are, but he’s trying not to let that show. There’s nothing a little confidence can’t overcome.

When Geralt came up to him yesterday and explained the whole process of listing and discussing what they’re into, he was a bit thrown by it. Sure, he knew Geralt didn’t just find his subs while wandering around, eyeing up anyone who might look secretly kinky, but he hadn't anticipated needing to be so open about his own desires. Sure, Geralt has walked in on a hook-up more than once, but it wasn’t like he was tied up or being spanked at the time.

There’s a small - maybe not so small - part of him that worries he won’t be enough for Geralt. He’s spent the last decade or so being the perfect best friend and never once showing that he feels anything besides friendship for Geralt. A lot of people are perfectly capable of doing the whole friends with benefits thing, and Jaskier desperately hopes he’s one of them.

All of a sudden, the silence seems so overwhelming that he simply has to open his mouth and spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Do you…are mine good?” Jaskier asks, throwing his confidence aside. He also feels a stupid that his list is half as long as Geralt’s. But Geralt nods sharply, flushing a little as he glances down at the sheet of paper in his hands.

“There are no good or bad kinks, but this is a lovely list,” Geralt tells him, and Jaskier feels an odd sort of pride over it. “I have to admit I’m kind of surprised to see slut-shaming on the list, though. You’ve never been shy about your exploits.”

“I really haven’t,” Jaskier agrees with a snort. “Though the thought of being called out for it? Being told I’m a slut? It just appeals to me. Sadly I’ve yet to find a partner who was into it.”

“Well I love talking filthy, and I’m happy to include some humiliation,” Geralt says with a wink. Jaskier crosses his legs, nearly bouncing in his seat at how intimate this is. He’s never just sat down and talked about things like this with his previous partners. Sure, there’d been a lot of checking in and giving consent, but usually not until they were already in the bedroom.

“I have to admit that I’m not entirely aware of all of yours, though?” Jaskier says, pursing his lips as he re-reads the list. Geralt has nearly twice as many kinks listed as he does, and some he’s never even heard of.

“Ask any questions you have, because the internet might not be the best place for info on some of these. Google tends to bring up some weird shit,” Geralt tells him, laughing as Jaskier cringes at him. He looks over the list Geralt’s has ticked off, scanning it as his pulse quickens. He has no idea why reading sexual acts is getting him so worked up, but it’s probably because all he can think of is how they might do these things together and he’s been in love with Geralt for ages.

“Spitting?” he asks, tilting his head as he waits for the explanation. Geralt flushes, chewing on his lip before answering.

“Yeah, basically just spitting?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Some people like getting spat on, and I like spitting. Could be in your mouth, on your body, on your hole.”

“You, uh, you’d spit on my hole?” Jaskier asks because he can’t think before he speaks. Jesus Christ, this is going to ruin him. Why did he think they could have a conversation like this without feeling awkward? But then Geralt smiles warmly at him, and he remembers they’re never awkward with each other. This will work because of who they are. Geralt has seen him at his worst, and he’s still here. What’s a little spit between friends?

“I know you’re not really into being penetrated, so it might not come to that, but yeah. I like spitting,” Geralt says with a shrug. Jaskier has no clue how he’s so put together, but he supposes being in the lifestyle for so long makes you comfortable with anything. He does have to admit that the thought of kneeling in front of Geralt and letting him spit into his mouth sounds fantastically filthy, and skin buzzes when he thinks about it.

“I could probably make a decent guess about breeding but…we’re both men so please explain it better?” Jaskier asks, biting his tongue to keep from looking too out of his element. Most of his experiences with breeding have been hoping he doesn’t knock anyone up, so he’s not sure how that can be sexy.

“Yeah, you definitely can’t get me pregnant,” Geralt says with a chuckle. “It’s more about the thought of it? Some people like to pretend they can and just talk about knocking me up and breeding me until it takes. Sometimes it goes hand-in-hand with comeplay, because things tend to get a bit messy.”

Jaskier thought about that for a long moment, pictured fucking Geralt and filling him up with load after load while telling him how good he would look all swollen and pregnant. He’s unable to hold back the shiver that runs through him and clears his throat before saying, “Better, er, better marks that down as a yes for me as well.” Geralt just beams at him.

“Again, not saying this list is final. They’re more like suggestions. Kinks can be explored, too. You might want to try something out because you don’t know if you like it or not. Sometimes people will try things their partner likes to make them happy. Just because I’m not excited about a certain thing, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be willing to do it if you are. Like feet? Not my thing usually, but you put it down so I’m willing to play around with it,” Geralt says. His face is steady, like he isn’t aware Jaskier is now picturing him sucking on his toes. He takes a deep breath and looks at the paper again.

“Cock warming? Like…heating it up? Wouldn’t that be up under temperature play?” Jaskier asks, knowing he’s probably wrong.

“No,” Geralt says with a soft laugh, “No, it’s when you just kneel down and hold someone’s cock in your mouth. Not to suck them off or anything, just to hold it, keep it warm while they do something else. Some subs enjoy it, because they can focus on just being a nice warm space for their dom. Again, we don’t have to try everything on my list. This is just to get to understand what we both might enjoy. Nothing is a make it or break it kink for me. The only thing that is non negotiable is aftercare. I’m not going to let you leave until I’m sure you’re alright.”

“Well that seems reasonable. So we uh, we seem to have a lot in common. Like spanking, collars, biting, lingerie, and praise. That’s good, right? Seems like we could work it out?” Jaskier asks, proud of himself for being so brave. One word from Geralt and this ends before it even starts. He feels bad for not admitting he’s in love with the man, but Geralt was clear this is a no-strings kind of thing. He’s been hiding his affection for years now, surely he can keep it a secret a little longer?

“Jaskier, you’re my best friend. I would never turn you down. Besides, who could be better to help you than me? We can easily keep things friendly and both get some fun out of it, too. So yeah, as soon as you get your test results back we can start,” Geralt says with a smile.

“Of course! Best friends who sometimes fuck. Totally going to be the coolest thing ever!” Jaskier chirps, hoping his excitement hides his traitor of a heart. Because if he can’t have all of Geralt? He’ll take what he can. He always has, hence their living situation.

“I should head out or I’ll be late to my weekly dinner with the boys, though. We’re good here, yeah?” Geralt asks. Jaskier completely forgot it was Thursday, and every week Geralt goes out for dinner with his brothers. He’s tagged along a few times before, but prefers to let the boys have time to themselves.

“Yeah, get out of here. I won’t wait up!” Jaskier says with a giggle. Geralt seems to accept that and stands up to get ready. Jaskier stays on the couch until he leaves, desperately trying not to think about how easily this could ruin everything between them. He has to keep himself from showing how much he cares. He just has to.

As soon as Geralt walks out the door, Jaskier shoves his pants down to his knees and palms himself through his briefs. His cock is embarrassingly hard, and there’s already a wet spot on the front of the fabric. He bucks up into his palm, grinding against it as tries and fails not to picture Geralt’s hand touching him instead.

He licks his hand before reaching in and wrapping it around himself. He imagines what Geralt might make him do, what names he might call him, how tight his ass will feel when he finally gets to fuck him. It’s over ridiculously fast, just a few rough strokes before he’s spilling over his own fist and making a mess of himself.

And as he sits there, panting and covered in his own come, he feels like that stupid dog meme. This is fine.

---

NSFW Tags: @tothedesert @mayastormborn @allinthebones @selectivegeekwithstandards @trickstermoose67 @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @larawrmonster @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @gryffinqueen-blog @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @lokibus @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @feral-jaskier @hayleynzlive @answrs @jaskierswolf @holymotherwolf @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @singerin @flawney @viking1919 @peanitbear @blues-tunes

If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!

#My fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #jaskier #I'm Sweatin' Through All My Clothes #D/s au #modern au #the witcher #witcher valentines #witcher bows and arrows #bows and arrows 2 #dom geralt #sub jaskier

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wander-wren · 5 months ago

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i need you to know that i'm going fucking insane over kirishima's arc in the flf-verse i cannot stop thinking about it especially in conjuncture with the scene in fyiwctl where it's revealed that he and hanta are living together and it's like a big surprise and i love how it works because maybe he's not ready to talk to his friends about this huge thing in his life even years down the road and that's something a lot of trans people relate to and he's also just a sweetheart and a puppyboy and who doesn't love that?????? anyways this concludes my sentence much love to both you and flf-verse kiri mwah

aw yay! flfverse kiri my beloved. he’s just a silly guy. i definitely am really into the idea of a trans person who just doesn’t come out, for a long time or forever, even though of course his friends are supportive and society is making strides and i think the assumed happy ending of any trans narrative is coming out fully. but it doesn’t have to be.

also this ask made me go to my kiri doc and see if i had any wips in there and i DO! kinda! i have a paragraph of plans. the gist is withdrawal for kiri, because trans, plus kaminari helping because he’s great, plus lots of angst. because obviously. so maybe i’ll get around to that soon!

#naiadbookworm #flfverse #d/s au #i havent talked about this on my main blog in a MINUTE sorry for all the people who have no idea what im saying

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mayalaen · 9 months ago

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Splintered is Now Complete!

Title: Splintered Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing(s): Hopper/Eddie (main pairing), Steve/Billy Word Count: 182k Tags: D/s AU, Read the tags as there’s some rough stuff in here with Eddie and Billy and their home life. Splintered Fic Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/48938014

Summary:

Hopper grew up in a traditional home, and when he was in ‘Nam, he put those skills to use and learned more about caring for traumatized and distressed subs than he ever imagined previously. Nothing prepared him for Eddie Munson.

This is now part of a series because I plan on adding timestamps, so if you want to be notified when I add to the 'verse, please subscribe to the series.

#hoppie #hopper x eddie #harringrove #steve x billy #stranger things #fanfic #d/s au #myfic #i made this #fanart

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ketchupcrisp · 11 months ago

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The triple update voters claimed a decisive victory, so here you go my friends!

Here they are!

From This Wound (The World)

a garden (you never get to see)

The Man Behind the Curtain (Pay No Attention)

I have only managed comment replies on one of the three, but will get to the rest tonight. Thank you all for being the most patient and amazing humans. So much love to you all.

#tony stark #fic saturday #from this wound (the world)#a garden (you never get to see)#the man behind the curtain #stony #steve rogers #bucky barnes #d/s au #iron winter

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 months ago

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📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

11. Palmiers

Bucky

Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.

They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”

“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”

Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.

Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.

The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.

As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take).

He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?”

Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go.

“Thanks babe.”

“Uh huh.”

It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout.

Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?”

“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen.

Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.

“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”

“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.

“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.

“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”

Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.”

“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”

“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?”

“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”

“Your muscles?”

Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”

“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.”

“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.

“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”

Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”

“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”

“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”

“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”

Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.”

Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains.

“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.

“I must’a slept on it wrong.”

Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch.

The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.

He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.

She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.

“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”

“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”

“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.

“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway.

“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”

“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.

Steve

Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”

“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.

“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”

She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?”

“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.”

“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.

She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.

"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.

Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"

"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"

"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."

She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."

They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn’t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,

“So: His arm.”

Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”

“What happened?”

Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”

“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”

Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”

Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”

“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.”

Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.

“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”

She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”

“Jeez.”

“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”

Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”

“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?”

“Yeah.”

"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”

Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”

“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”

She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”

“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.

(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)

(“Duh.”)

In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,

“What’s the holdup?”

“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”

“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.

Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.

“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”

“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”

Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”

“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay.

“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.

She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.

She freezes. “Bad?”

“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”

“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”

(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)

“Riiight here? and … here?"

Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.

“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”

“Mmrr.”

“And here: your rhomboid.”

“Ooh!”

“Tender?”

“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”

Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.

“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.

“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”

Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).

“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”

“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”

Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.

“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”

“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder.

“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”

Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.

“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.

“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”

“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods.

“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”

“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”

She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here?

Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out.

Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”

When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”

Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”

It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”

“Yep.”

*To anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.

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