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lowkeyerror · 21 days ago

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Help With The Curriculum pt 2

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Notes: Smut, strap, dry humping, choking, fingering, 2x use of daddy in non-sexually explicity context, dirty talk, lap-sitting, mentions of edging, mentions of exhibitionlism, mentions of overstimulation, Rio Vidal 😩

Summary: You sit in on one of Agatha’s lectures and enjoy some time with her during passing period... however that time with Agatha might have attracted the attention of someone else.

An: Not promising a fully fledged fic but ill keep posting parts of this until I lose interest. Also couldn't help but add Rio... eventual Rio x Agatha x Reader smut but idk if it'll just be one part or permanent in this fic 🙇‍♀️

Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You end up spending Saturday and Sunday at Agatha’s. It wasn’t planned, but it was hard to leave. You already felt so comfortable with the woman. The only reason you found yourself back at home had to do with the papers you were supposed to grade Friday.

You spent most of your Monday grading the work. Images and thoughts of the other professor poked at the back of your mind, but you tried to stay focused. You figured that you could text her as a reward for finishing the grading.

Your phone dings as you’re on the final paper. You think about letting it wait, considering you’re almost done, but it dings again. The impulses get the better of you and you pick it up.

Agatha: I have an 8am tomorrow

Agatha: If you want to sit in on my lecture

You smile, knowing that you’d be in her classroom bright and early to watch her teach.

Y/n: I’ll be there

Agatha: Your class starts 15 after mine ends. It’d probably take you 5 mins to walk over…

Y/n: Probably, why?

Agatha: Well you said you wanted to fuck me in the lecture hall. You think you can get me off in 10 mins?

Y/n: I can do it in 5 ;-)

Agatha: We'll see about that professor

You now had a better reason to look forward to your Tuesday. After those messages you didn't have it in you to further grade the last assignment. You opted to just give that one lucky student an A.

For the rest of the day your mind wandered to how you were going to use those 5 minutes to get Agatha off. You couldn’t help but smile as dirty thoughts filled your head.

You’d be playing mind games from the second you stepped inside of her classroom. Your usual casual classroom attire was being quickly abandoned for something that better fit your title of professor. A grey 3-piece Herringbone suit. You wore your hair back, out of your face.

You had a pocket chain clipped to your pants, while a watch sat on your wrist. There was something special packed in your pants that you planned on using to tease the other professor.

You filed into her classroom with the other students. Opposite to her approach in your classroom, you sat in the back corner of her lecture hall. You wanted her to see you. With your legs spread open and a hand tentatively resting high up on your thigh.

Your other hand held up your head as you locked your eyes on her. When her eyes met yours, you could see them narrow at your appearance. You sent her a polite smile, which you could tell she was fighting not to return.

She briefly welcomed her students back and then immediately got into the lecture. There was an assertive flip to her character that intrigued you. You could get lost in her tone of speaking. She hardly looked at you, but when she did, you were always readjusting the crotch of your pants.

“Your exam is tomorrow; multiple choice and 3 short answer questions. All of the answers should be in your notes, I’d study them thoroughly. You are dismissed.”

Her classroom cleared much faster than yours had the previous Friday. You had waited for the last student to leave before rising from your seat. You took your time locking the doors to the room, before heading down to Agatha.

You could tell that she had a sly remark on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance to speak as your lips attacked hers. You were rough as you kissed her, complete disregard for pleasantries.

You pressed her up against the desk. Enough to where she could feel the strap through your pants, she moaned as you slowly rocked your hips. No words were necessary, only the sounds of your breathing.

Your hand reached around her front, eager to plunge into her wetness. Once you make it past her waistband, you have to hold yourself back from taking her bottoms completely off. Her panties are ruined.

“Fuck, I made you this wet, just sitting there? You saw my hand on this big fake cock, and couldn’t help but make a mess of yourself, professor?”

She throws her head back as you rub her clit, “Look so sexy baby, I want you inside me.”

You chuckle darkly into her ear, “All weekend wasn’t enough huh? You just want me to fill you up every day.”

You keep your thumb on her clit and easily push 2 fingers inside of her. Your free hand loops around to rest on her neck. She tilts her head back to be able to meet your lips. You can feel her clenching around your fingers already.

“Desperate fucking slut, so needy for me. I’d take you like this for hours, till that puddle in your panties becomes a fucking ocean. Make you cum enough to coat my strap in your juices. Have your filthy mouth suck it off, just to spread you open and shove it in that hungry hole. The way you’re sucking up my fingers, fuck I know you need my cock buried inside of you.”

She begins to pant, “I want it. I want your cock, please. Please I’ll do anything, just let me have it.”

You pout, “Aww we don’t have time right now Aggie. I need you to cum on fingers so I can shove them in your mouth and go teach my class.”

She whines and starts moving with your fingers, “Y/n.”

You kiss her forehead, “I know baby, I know. You have to be good for me. Do what I say and I’ll make it worth your while, professor.”

You squeeze her throat a little tighter and pick up the pace with your fingers. Agatha lets out a shrill scream, causing you to cover her mouth quickly. You feel her slump against you, causing you to slow your pace before fully removing your fingers from her.

Before you can move away from her, she grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers into her mouth. She allows the tips to hit the back of her throat while keeping eye contact with you.

Your fingers fall out of her mouth and you delicately grab her by the chin. You peck her lips sweetly.

“You owe me one hell of a reward, Professor L/n,” she mumbles.

Her hand trails down the front of your suit pants until she finds what she’s looking for. She squeezes the toy lightly, palming it with her hand.

“I keep my promises, Professor Harkness. I still have a few to make good on, but in the meantime, I have a lecture to teach,” you wink at her.

She steals on last kiss from you, “Don’t be late.”

Agatha playfully smacks your ass when you turn around and you laugh at her antics. As you reach the exit of her classroom you turn back for a second, “Oh, and Professor Harkness. I really enjoyed your lesson.”

You leave her lecture room with a smile on your face. On the way to your own class, you find yourself walking in stride with fellow history professor, Rio Vidal.

“You’re getting awfully cozy with Professor Harkness.”

You shrug, “She needed some help with the curriculum, wanted a fresh new perspective.”

The brown eyed woman hums, “Hmm, I’ve never known her to ask for help.”

“Well, maybe you just don’t have much help to offer her these days,” you match her tone.

“I heard she sat in on your lecture, mind if I do the same?” She disregards your last statement.

Again you shrug, “Feel free, Professor Vidal.”

You feel her gaze trail up your side profile. It lingers on your pants, and you have to stop yourself from readjusting.

“You can call me Rio.”

“Y/n,” you say curtly.

Once at your classroom, you already have a few students waiting outside. You let them in and head to the front of the class. Rio takes a seat in the front corner of the lecture.

As promised before break you spend the whole class reviewing. The last thing you do is hand out the assignments you graded yesterday. You sit at your desk, eyes drifting over to Rio.

“Well, I can see now why everyone is so enticed by you. You’re charming, smart, and well-dressed. No wonder students and professors alike are always muttering about you,” she walks to stand in front of your desk.

Your face heats under her gaze, “I’m hearing about my reputation more now than ever before.”

She stares at you like she could devour you. Her hands rest wide on your desk and her head drops to look at you.

“I don’t think she could handle what you have to offer, cupcake,” Rio leans into the desk.

“What are you talking about?” You sit back straight in your chair, keeping a calm attitude.

“Oh, now you want to play dumb professor,” she leans in further to whisper in your ear, “I heard you two early. Trust me kid, I know what Agatha sounds like. There’s only one reason I’d hear her making those kind of noises.”

“Jealous or something?”

She smiles widely shaking her head. She walks around to the side of the desk, “Not of you. Like I said, I’m very familiar with Agatha. I’m less familiar with you."

She gets on her knees and crawls over to you. Her hands wrap around your leg to rest on your knees, “ I need to know you better.”

“Don’t even think about it Vidal,” you scoot back away from her.

“I'd listen to her if I were you, Rio,” Agatha’s voice echoes across the room.

Rio only smirks and stand to her feet, “Hello, my love. Long time, no chat.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” Agatha quickly makes her way to the desk. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stares at Rio.

The brown eyed woman frowns, “How long are we going to play this game, Agatha?”

“Play time is over Rio” Agatha says.

Rio shakes her head, “You fucking some hot, younger, girl, doesn't mean shit. She only fucked you as a rebound Y/n.”

“You’re only saying that because you wished you fucked her first,” Agatha shoots back at Rio.

“If I had 5 minutes alone with her, she would’ve taken me over the desk,” Rio glares at Agatha.

“You always did have a thing for sloppy seconds,” Agatha returns.

“I take it you two have a past,” you interject.

“Present, and a future, cupcake,” Rio winks at you.

You stand up, “I’m not your cupcake, Professor Vidal. I only plan on saying this one time, so I hope you’re a good listener. I. Don’t. Like. Sharing.”

“Oooo daddy runs a little hot I see,” Rio teases you.

You can feel your jaw twitch, “You’re a fucking brat.”

Rio bats her eyelashes at you, “You going to tame me, daddy?”

Agatha cuts in her tone stern, “Rio, leave now.”

Rio whines the blue-eyed woman’s name, “Agatha.”

“Out,” Agatha reinforces.

The woman huffs out an air of irritation before leaving the classroom.

“You know I figured you hooked up with Professor Vidal, but I didn’t picture her being such a brat,” you sit back down when you address Agatha.

The woman sits in your lap, facing you. Her hands play with the hairs on the back of your neck. She can feel the dildo pressing against her, but refrains from moving.

“She’s untamable,” Agatha says dismissively.

You scoff, “No one is untamable.”

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Trust me, Rio lives for the thrill of the punishment.”

“You punish her a lot?”

“I suppose I did,” Agatha meets your eyes.

“Tell me about it.”

Your hands found purchase on her hips. You guided her slowly back and forth across the length of the strap in your pants.

“One time I made go out with a toy inside of her and no panties. I spanked her for every wet spot she left when she was sitting,” Agatha says and you guide her a little faster.

“More.”

“I slapped her cunt until it was nice and tender and then I made her bounce on my strap until she came 7 times.”

You press Agatha down firmer on you, “Another.”

You were pulsing at the thought of Agatha dominating Professor Vidal. Her bratty attitude had upset you, but it had also turned you on. You wish you could put her in her place.

“I edged her for 2 hours until she nearly collapsed after squirting harder than I've ever seen anyone squirt in my life. Seeing her face down in her own juices, eyes fluttering, tongue out trying to taste herself on the floor. God, that was my favorite.”

You groan wanting more than fuck Agatha right here on your desk. She’s about to cum again while haven't came once today. It feels you are torturing yourself.

It's as if Agatha had read your thoughts. She sticks on of her hands down your pants. She slips it past the harness to feel your clit.

“You want to cum with me, professor,” Agatha smirks as she rubs your clit.

“Fuck yes,” you moan, laying your head on her chest.

It didn't take much more for you to cum together. Your breath was ragged, and your hunger for each other was only partially satiated.

“Listen up, ‘Mrs. I don’t like sharing’ if you’re going to try to become brat tamer of the year, you aren’t doing it without me,” Agatha says placing a kiss on your cheek.

She attempts to get up, but you hold her place, “Fine, when she comes to see you, call me. I want us both to have fun with her.”

Agatha laughs, “She’s irritating in the way you just want to fuck it out of her, isn’t she?”

You nod, “But you can’t let her know that. Her ego is too big, that’s why she’s bratty now.”

Agatha agrees with you, “Good point, I have to go teach my next class, but I’ll see you tonight. Your place, for my reward.”

She kisses you sweetly, once more before exiting your classroom.

Now you had two things on your mind. Agatha’s reward and your opportunity to punish Rio. Both things that you were very much looking forward too.

Next part

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #rio vidal

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dreamingonfilm · 2 years ago

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✧˖*°࿐ Cramps | D.M

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Request: Yes

w/c: 1.1K

You groaned once more as you rolled over in bed, grabbing hold of your covers and bringing them above your head to try and muffle the sound of your roommates talking. On most days, you’d be right there alongside them, complaining about your most recent potions assignment and gossipping about who is taking who to the upcoming Yule ball. But today, all you wanted to do was lay in bed, curl up in a ball, and die; any means of escape necessary to help ease the pain that was going on in your uterus.

It was already noon, and you were still in bed. You had no plans on leaving soon, even if it meant sacrificing your weekend trip to Hogsmeade that you had been planning for the past few weeks. Your friends only giving you looks of sympathy, as they started grabbing hold of all their things, getting ready to leave for the day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” One of the girls asked you, as the group started heading for the door.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you squeak out, “I don’t think it’s going to get any better any time soon. Can you just tell Draco I’m not going?”

They give you a small nod as they close the door behind them. The room finally silent after a full morning of chatter, at last you could take a nap.

You bury yourself deeper into your sheets as you try and find a more comfortable position. The warmth of the blankets hugging your body as you found yourself drifting further and further into sleep. Nothing could disturb you now.

Nothing except for Draco that is.

The door flung open, a loud bang ricocheting off the walls, as he rushed over to your side. A worried look plastered on his face as he went to put his palm on your forehead. A look of confusion now taking over once he realized you weren’t actually ill.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he asked, going in to give you a kiss on the cheek, “the girls told me that you were sick so I decided to stay behind as well. But you don’t seem ill.”

You didn’t know whether to be angry at him for disturbing you, or appreciative of the fact that he cared about your well-being. You sat yourself up from the bed, a cramp hitting you as you did so, causing you to let out a little yelp in pain and clutch your stomach. Draco gave you a look of sympathy as he realized what was wrong.

“I’m not sick Draco,” you let him know, “just on my period.”

He let out a small hum and gave you a gentle kiss on the nose. It was days like these that you were thankful for the blonde, mean-eyed, Slytherin boy that you were able to call your boyfriend. It was no surprise to you as to why so many people saw Draco as cold, you weren’t a stranger to his rude remarks and cold glances, but thankfully throughout your years at Hogwarts, Draco and you managed to develop a strong and unbreakable bond. One that gave him the confidence to show you this soft side of him, and for this you were grateful.

So, by routine, the boy got up from your side and started heading out the door.

“I’ll be back with your tea and a pumpkin pastry.” He put his hand to the knob and started stepping out.

“Wait!” You interrupted. He turned around and gave you a confused look. It became habitual for him to get you tea and sweets whenever you were sick or during your period, and usually you were okay with him leaving you for just a few minutes.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, just, for the tea,” you hid a shy smile in midst of his concerned gaze, “just remember to add honey and tw–”

“Two sugarcubes, but not the ones from the first cabinet, the ones hidden behind the ugly flower vase near the window.” He finished your sentence. It was such a small and silly thing to be flustered about, especially since it is something that happens so often, but right now, all you could think about was the fact that he was in your room taking care of you and that he remembered how you like your tea.

“I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t remember. I’ll be back soon, my sweet.” He came back up next to you and gave you a kiss, turning around and then finally exiting the room.

—-

Twenty minutes later your boyfriend finally returned. In his hands your tea, some sweets, and one of his sweaters. He gave you a flashy grin as he came to your side, placing the things down on your bedside table.

“Drink this,” he handed you the tea, “It will make you feel better.”

You grab hold of the small cup and start drinking it. Groaning and trying to resist the urge to curl up into a fetal position every few moments from the constant cramping. “Thank you Dray, but I don’t think the pain is going to go away soon.”

The boy took the now empty cup and set it aside. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear as he went to lay down next to you. Peppering your face with kisses as you laughed in between, almost forgetting about the ache. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You let out sweetly, bringing yourself close to him to try and capture some of his warmth. He smelt of mint and mahogany, a scent that you knew all too well. The boy grabbed the sweater from your bedside and handed it to you, watching as you put it over your tank top. He grabbed hold of your hands and started rolling up the sleeves.

“Then,” he finally finished rolling the sleeves and gave you a small kiss, “I guess I will stay with you until you feel better.”

“Even if it’s for the rest of the week?” You asked him, taking notice of how soft his gaze has become.

He closed the small remaining space between you. Both of your bodies glued together as he hummed your favorite song into your ear. Forgetting about your missed Hogsmeade trip, as well as the Pumpkin Pastries that were now going cold on your bedside, he responded,

“Especially if it means the rest of the week.”

And you didn’t doubt his words for a second.

✧˖*°࿐

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here!

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fluff #draco lucius malfoy #draco #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter #draco fic

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

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a/n: ty for all ur asks ill answer them soon but i just wanna write something small to get my mind off assignments and i miss writing; very self-ship coded and indulgent

thinking about geto who loves to game and because he’s already finished his finals for the semester, he’s is enjoying his time online but you still have some exams and essays to finish up on and you’re just... so distracted by your boyfriend’s side profile as he shouts and smiles at his teammates on the game.

your mind is all muddled from the information you try to soak up, but you know you’ve reached your limit long ago when you start looking at the brightness of suguru’s screens more than your dull notes, and you fall even deeper in love when after each round he comes off his set-up to check on you.

first, “how’s my baby’s studying going?” he asks softly even if you cannot hear with the earphones in, and here you’re more focused, jumping a little when a larger, gentle hand strokes your calves.

“sorry, su— what did you say?” he hovers over you, gently pushing away the hand clutching your notes to give you a kiss before sitting down again.

“how’s your studying?” his tone is so, so loving and small, as if afraid that he’ll add onto your stress but he does the exact opposite.

you just settle for a shrug, wanting to tell him about this frustrating time period that you have to memorise the events for but before you can open your mouth, you can hear satoru’s loud ass from his headset and you both share a giggle.

“go,” you whisper, running a hand briefly through his hair.

“okay darling. you’ll be okay,” geto never forgets to gift you with a forehead kiss, tender against your skin before picking himself up. this happens a second, third, fourth time — hell, you lost count of how many rounds they played but your studying starts to falter around round three when you cannot take any more of the black plague and the protestant v. catholic disputes.

so, you just switch to watching your boyfriend be skilled with his fingers, clacking away on the keyboard and keeping the team together when gojo again dramatically has to scream at why he keeps getting shot at. he was everyone’s rock, at this point, but he was only willing to let you be the chiseler and chip away at him until you find obsidian.

“sugu...” you mumble, not expecting to hear you, but just at that moment one of his friends had to take a break, pausing it. all the chaos that comes in through his headphones stop, so you’re surprised when his head snaps to yours.

“hm?” he hums, looking at you with that smile.

you point, more to his lap than to his face, “can i?”

geto wasn’t a stranger to this, so he swivels his chair and opens his hands to face you; you happily trot over to him, abandoning your notes for a little bit of downtime. before you know it, you’re placing one leg over his pelvis and straddling him, safely cradled by him.

“hi.”

you giggle, “hello.”

geto grins in return, hands caressing your sides like it was his stress ball. “how’s it goin’?”

you shake your head and frown, “can’t remember.”

your lover only gives you a downward smile, one of his hands coming up to rub the stress away from you. his thumb goes over your furrowed brows, fingers squeezing your jaw until it relaxes.

“there we go...” he softly says, “want to stay here?”

“if you don’t mind? i don’t want to memorise any more things,” geto can hear the pout in your voice and he coos inwardly, brushing a few strands of hairs from your face.

“of course i don’t mind, baby,” another forehead peck, “once this round ends, i’ll clean up and come to bed with you, okay?”

“promise? you always let satoru talk you into another round.”

and you jump a little again when you hear a familiar voice sound out from the headset, hey, i heard that!!! and you laugh with suguru, exchanging small smiles as the other gives you a tender kiss — “i won’t let him do it this time.”

and suguru stays true to his word, squeezing you periodically while your hands wrap around his shoulders and your face buries itself in his neck. you’re snuggled comfortably on his lap, sometimes giving him kisses on the neck and he wriggles because of his sensitive spots. he has the pleasure of hearing your laughs, albeit faded and soft, you have all the warmth in the world in the form of geto suguru.

it’s when you’re slipping in and out of consciousness that they conclude the round, suguru immediately bidding goodbye to his friends and suddenly the world is quiet again.

“—eetheart? baby?” geto’s voice cut into your conscious and you blink away your fatigue. “there she is.”

“yea— here,” yawn, “here i am.”

suguru barks out a laugh, a beautiful noise and it’s got you smiling too. again, his hand like second nature goes to your hair to arrange it, heart tightening up when you lean into his touch.

“shall we head to bed?” you nod sleepily, but you have to get your kisses first, arms bending to slot your hands to his neck and face. there, you can feel his skin heat up, pale skin illuminated by the computer screens that turn red just barely. you bring suguru in for a gentle kiss, letting your boyfriend lead the way as you lock lips.

you move in tandem, in rhythm with him, taking in a deep breath when his arms wrap tighter around your waist. he hums into the kiss, cold hands descending upon your warm back and teasing that line that follows your spine, while he moves his head against yours. sneakily, he slips his tongue into your mouth and swallows your soft moans, pulling away with a deep breath when oxygen becomes scarce.

geto looks at you like you hung the stars, eyes soft and tired as well, a glow on his face and lips pulled into a smile.

“my pretty, pretty girl,” he whispers, your heart picking up in an even faster pace, taking advantage of your hand on his face. he turns his face, lips upon your palm and you can feel your heart soar. the scene is still all quiet — the computers shut down by now, the soft rush of water in the plugged-in diffuser, your breathing, as he takes your hand and kisses, kisses, kisses. each finger, knuckle to your wrist, leaving no place untouched by his lips.

you tuck his bangs behind his ear, but it will dart out soon enough. “my... gamer... boy?” you stutter out questionably and you make suguru throw his head back and laugh, fingers feeling at your skin.

“oh, pretty and hilarious? i think i scored,” the laughter subsides and you get lost in his eyes all over again, a labyrinth that you never want to come out of because it’s warm and cozy and consists of everything that you love.

“you jest.” you’re grinning, heading back into your safe space as you hide your face, and geto takes that as a sign to stand up, just as he knows everything about you. adjusting you, he stands up shortly after, bringing you to the bed and plopping onto it with a big sigh.

“oh, i do anything but joke about my baby’s capabilities,” he hovers over you, looking like a deity above you that you’d think you’re meeting with god, “not when she’s just so stunning. it’s true.”

geto suguru always had a way with words, and now, a way with your heart. from the lovesick look he has in his eyes, or the extra hair tie he keeps on his wrist for you, or maybe even the fingers that know your body so well, he knows you like second nature. loving you is like that — natural, ingrained into his body and yet every time he kisses you, the same fireworks never fail to ignite.

“by the gods, i’m sure they’re all talking about you in the love songs they write,” suguru whispers from above you, voice barely above a whisper and the pure articulation of it takes your breath away. the words and description fit him better, you know, but you’d indulge yourself in the eyes of your lover for once and let his love consume you whole.

geto mumbles mindlessly, thumb going over your bottom lip, “and everything they sing and speak of is true. venus looks like everything true and good and sweet. she looks just like love.”

“where is she, now?”

“what do you mean? i’m looking at her right now.” suguru replies with a smile of his own before he devours you whole, lips upon lips and skin against skin and nothing makes his heart burn and head spin quite like you do. he guesses it’s all goddess-level duty, but even then, even goddesses do not know of their powers sometimes, just like you and your humility and all your kindness and beauty that even you don’t know what you do to him.

and suguru is more than happy to let you know.

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banj0possum · 2 years ago

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I need more jock x reader with reader having a big attitude and shows big disinterest in Brandon🥰

Jock x Gn Reader pt. 3

there was also an anon who requested reader topping Brandon so ill add it in as well :3

🏈 You've been tutoring Brandon for a few weeks now. Even after he passed that english test, he insisted you'd tutor him even in other subjects.

🏈 Of course you didn't care because you never wanted to tutor him in the first place.

🏈 No matter how clear your explanations are, he never got it until an hour of guiding him step by step, it was terribly draining to you and the alone time you were supposed to spend instead of teaching a dumb jock like him what 2+2 was.

🏈 Despite you thinking he's all muscle and no brains, Brandon's pretty smart, he gotta keep his grades up for football somehow, but the more time he spent playing dumb, the more time he spent with you, zoning out of your cute face that gets upset when you notice him staring at you googly-eyed, snapping your fingers at him to wake him up.

🏈 He won't say it out loud, but he relished the thought of your annoyed face, it awoken a part of him that he didn't even know existed.

🏈 Brandon would spot you amongst the crowd during break periods and if he tried to tease you or mess with you, you'd give him a sharp glare, sometimes grabbing his wrist or arm to stop him from wrapping an arm around you or playing with your hair.

🏈 It aroused encouraged him honestly.

🏈 His friends would notice him talking and hanging out with you more often and would ask him about you, Brandon confessing his slight big crush on you.

🏈 They'd coach him, telling him sweet poems to write, pickup lines, gifts, gestures to make you notice him, even his friends' girlfriends would tell him things they felt would work with you.

🏈 He had a few tricks he used on girls to get with them, but they never worked with you, so he might as well try.

🏈 He'd try to impress you, lifting weights, working out, all to get your attention. A compliment, a glance, even a scoff over how much he's trying, please notice him!!!

🏈 You rarely did, but whenever you do, you'd go out of your way to push him off his high horse, lunches bought for you were repaid with you teasingly treating him to food, even feeding him which flustered him to no end.

🏈 Cheesy flirts were deflected towards him whenever you gave him little touches and the like. You made him feel so small, so inferior...he loved it.

🏈 You'd walk in the room, and he'd be in a strange pose looking at you come in, his head resting in his hand as he spread himself on your couch.

🏈 "Is it just me or did it just get hotter in here?"

🏈 But you paid no mind, in fact, you leaned over him, your hands supporting you on both sides of him evidently trapping him as his face goes red by you glaring at him. "Uh-uhm...wow, now it's actually getting hot in here..whew!"

🏈 You hated it, but his little moves started growing in you, eventually earning smiles and giggles from you as you hid your face from him, but you always scoffed and shoved him away afterwards.

🏈 But that changed when you heard from one of your friends that he turned down a girl who wanted to sleep with him. He'd never do that! Unless he already has someone in mind...oh no..

🏈 You tried your best to avoid him that day but of course he found you, he was about to spew out another pickup line when you grabbed him by his letterman jacket's collar and slammed him into the lockers, pinning him.

🏈 You asked if all along his flirting and gifts were all a ploy to get you to fuck him through seething teeth.

🏈 His sweat dropped as you pinned him, his face getting redder by the second.

🏈 He gets shy all of a sudden, looking down like a sad puppy, pulling at your heart. You sigh as you let go of him, walking away from him.

🏈 "One chance, my house." You say as you leave him there with his hand on the parts of his neck that got red from you grabbing his collar.

🏈 When he saw you leave, he pumped his fists in the air and ran to tell his friends you asked him out.

🏈 He drove to your house in the best clothes he had without making him seem desperate. He knocked on the door and you let him in. He's been to your house many times but never because of another reason than tutoring, this seemed more intimate to him somehow.

🏈 You sat him down and you two talked, if he really liked you, if he really wanted to be with you, if he really liked you not just for a one-night stand.

🏈 "Y-you really thought that?...Sorry it's just- I'm not good at this...actual relationships I mean..I know it sounds bad but-...yeah it is..but I really like you (Y/N)! You're smart and funny and awesome! and really cute..."

🏈 You never saw him so genuine, something in the way he sat so curtly, avoiding eye-contact with you, you knew he wasn't lying.

🏈 Your glare softened and a smile starts appearing on your face. You scoot nearer to him to ruffle his hair before pulling his head towards you for a kiss.

🏈 He melted into the kiss, putting a hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss.

🏈 You suddenly grab a chuck of his hair, pulling his head back. "If I find out this is all a joke, your ass is grass you hear me?"

🏈 b o n e r

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phagodyke · 7 months ago

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my god. new contender for most shite day at work this year so far

another morning another free bus journey..

#my boss has been moving my schedule around constantly all week to add new shit and I DONT HAVE TIME IN THE DAY TO DO ALL THIS!!#and this morning on my way in i was like ok its gonna be tight but i should just abt get everything done !!#except NOPE she took an extra 2 hours out of my schedule at the start of the day for me to do someone elses work #which she (coworker not my boss i mean) easily had time to do herself bc she was only scheduled for training today???#AND then she (my boss) spontaneously decided to do some application work. made a fucking mess of my lab + hogged all the equipment I-#needed for the work that SHE SCHEDULED FOR ME TO DO!!!! so i ended up having to push everything #and worked half an hour unpaid overtime on the ONE week im supposed to not be working ANY overtime for once #and i had some of the worst period cramps ive had in years i think my meds are worsening them. which makes sense bc they have a #vasoconstriction effect but i wasnt prepared i ran out of ibuprofen the other day so literally NOTHING to help #physically couldnt stand up for a good 30-45 mins. 2 of my coworkers independently went and got me ibuprofen tho bless 🥹#i was abt to abandon everything and just go home bc i was feeling so dizzy and couldnt thjnk from how painful it was #but glad i stuck thru it bc otherwise id have to do all this shit next week 💀#my boss fucked up w the application work as well like girl. thats my work u clearly dunno how to do it.#and i kept trying to give her pointers bc remember she was taking up MY space all day to do this and she didnt listennnn #aurgh. well its over now anyway just got tmr to get thru and then its the weekend #ive moved a bunch of stuff to next week too if my boss has beef w me abt it in our meeting tmr idc i cant physically do that much in a day #shes always giving me excessive amts of work and then she comes in when im halfway thru it and shes like shit thata a lot of samples..#my brother in christ YOU ASKED ME TO DO THIS MANY!!!!#ohhhh my god. its fine tho i do like my job i do like my boss its just been so hectic n disorganised this week #its not all been bad tho one of my coworkers showed me his sons illustration degree dissertation project at lunch which was SICK #it was like. body horror concept stuff for an imagined animated show of a short story. some of it reminded me of scavengers reign #also we have a new guy starting whos gonna be doing cover for qc for the next year so ill prolly see a lot of him 👀#he seems rly sweet i liked him when he came in to interview so :^)#ANYWAY im gonna take a quick shower -> change -> take a couple more ibuprofen -> go out to the gym social #ill take it easy bc im still in some pain even its eased up a lot. but i wanna hang out w them ive been looking forward to it all week #not gonna miss it just bc work was shit!!!!#.diaries

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stormofdefiance · 7 months ago

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True knowledge exists in knowing you know nothing || Dr. Ratio & Socrates

Okay, I legitimately laughed out loud writing that title, but listen. LISTEN.

Ratio's inspirations derive from many sources; from referencing Archimedes's brain-blast in the tub, to being doomed to have his head bonked by Newton's apple ad infinitum in his idle animation, to his ultimate line ('esse est percipi' / 'to be is to be perceived') a direct quote from Berkeley on Idealism - it's apparent that his design nods towards scholars across time periods rather than being a direct parallel to a singular academic.

Nevertheless, just for fun, I've been rotating Ratio and ancient greek philosophers around in my head and have had a great time chewing over how parallels Socrates in particular. I am in no way saying that Hoyo even thought about Socrates while they were designing Ratio, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. I think there are some worthwhile parallels to be drawn that touch on all aspects of Ratio's own philosophy regarding ignorance, the value of knowledge, and his deep appreciation of life. So, let's get into it.

Ratio is interested in humanity and curing 'ill minds with knowledge', that 'to turn a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice.' Ignorance is a disease - this is a concept that can be viewed through a Socratic lens. Socrates believed that that virtue and knowledge were impossible to separate from one another, and that virtue could be developed through acquiring knowledge and insight. If knowledge is virtue, then ignorance is vice. In Socrates's mind, no one would rationally choose to do something bad. People might choose to do bad things, but this is rooted in their own perception of the world - as in, someone would only choose to do something bad (for the world, or for themselves) because they believed (erroneously) that it was the right or good thing to do. To Socrates, the cure to this was knowledge: 'There are two kinds of disease of the soul, vice and ignorance.' & 'What does most harm in the world is not sinfulness but ignorance'.

To Ratio, 'If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of the scholars to weed it out and heal the universe'. He views his own ignorance as 'filth' that must be cleansed through methods such as reading. He also views knowledge as a method for humans to overcome their problems - 'Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible the problem is you?' & 'You look distressed. Is something troubling you? if so, you can figure it out for yourself.' These statements sound harsh, but they also clue us into Ratio's philosophy - that through self-examination and improvement, one can overcome one's ailments.

Socrates was also known for being a trouble-maker, he was abrupt and tactless and did not care for someone's social standing nor decorum. He was also known for using what is now called the Socratic method, asking a series of questions that ultimately seek to show contradictions in the beliefs of those who posed them, and to move systematically towards a hypothesis free from contradiction. Socrates rarely made assertions himself - after all, he had no wisdom of his own. But he could interrogate others in order to expose their own foibles, much to the embarrassment and annoyance of those around him. He was once described as a 'gnat' chewing on the 'lazy horse of Athens', causing it to wake up and spring to life due to his persistent gnawing and prodding. Ratio also employs the Socratic method - 'I'm asking questions' - and also adopts sophist tactics such as playing devil's advocate and taking opposing sides (with both himself as seen a story quest, and with others as we see with his texts urging us to take up a side so he might debate us). Through questioning and interrogation, upsetting what we consider social convention and norms, we can dispel contradictions and thereby come closer to some form of truth.

To add to this - as highlighted in the replies below - Ratio’s skill ‘intellectual midwifery’ is a reference to the Socratic method. The idea being that Socrates helped those around him give birth to the knowledge that was already within them, rather than treating his students minds as empty vessels for him to fill with his own answers. Again this is beautifully echoed in Ratio - he doesn’t want to tell you how to live your life, he wants you to work out for yourself what it is you need, thus empowering oneself through self-examination and questioning.

Socrates did not believe in writing anything down. He believed that face-to-face communication was a far more effective way of communicating knowledge - which means, unfortunately, what we know of Socrates is primarily derived from secondary sources. Much of what we know about him today comes from Plato's dialogues, and Plato was known for liberally exercising artistic license.

Although Ratio is not dead, I find it interesting that his character story is told exclusively through secondary sources. To quote - '…There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective.' It's as though there are no surviving fragments penned by Ratio's hand and all we have to go on is through the lenses of other people. This challenges us, perhaps, to try to think about our own interpretation of Ratio since secondary sources cannot be taken as a wholly unbiased account - and once again employing the Socratic method and empowering the reader to come to their own interpretation.

While Socrates left no writing behind, he was interested in spreading knowledge. Socrates spent most of his life in Athens, a city that was, during his lifetime (~470-399 BC), a hotpot of scholars, wisemen and philosophers. Athena, the Greek god of wisdom, was named after the city - her symbol the owl that is also appropriately perched on Ratio’s shoulder. Also in Athens at this time where the sophists. The sophists were a class of intellectuals who were known to teach courses in various subjects - but often for a high fee, and generally centred around the idea that persuasion and the use of knowledge as a tool was more important than wisdom or truth itself. There's some debate about whether Socrates could be characterised as a sophist himself, but, crucially, he is characterised as refusing to take payment for his teachings. He was born a plebeian (perhaps you might describe it as a mundane background.) He was known to dress in rags and go barefoot, speaking to and (often antagonising) people from all walks of life, preferring the marketplace as a center of debate than palaces or courtrooms. I can't help but think of the sophists as similar to the genius society (or at least Ratio's depiction of them in contrast to himself), cooped up in ivory towers and gatekeeping knowledge to the most privileged. He doubts if Herta's talent is always helpful to others, he compares Screwllum to a 'monarch'. Then again, the sophists may in fact be a bit of a parallel to the Intelligentsia Guild - from Ratio, 'when someone is willing to listen to knowledge that is being disseminated and circulated, a price is created'.

Socrates (or at least the Platonic depiction of Socrates) was at one time declared the wisest man in Athens by the Oracle of Delphi. Socrates balks at this assertion - how can he possibly be the wisest man in Athens when he in fact knows nothing at all? This was not a claim made of modesty - he truly believed that he had no wisdom, that he was unsure what 'wisdom' itself even was. Ultimately, Socrates concludes that the only way that the Oracle could be correct is that by actually acknowledging that he knows nothing he paradoxically is the wisest man in Athens. All wisdom, therefore, is rooted in wondering, with wondering only possible if one is open to admitting one's own ignorance.

What I love about all of this in relation to Ratio is that Ratio styles himself as a mundanite. The Intelligensia Guild advocates that 'all knowledge must be circulated like currency' and accepts 'all beings… who seek to learn'. Ratio has no time for the satisfied self-styling of intellectualism, he himself states that 'to speak knowledge, we must first make people realise their own folly.' No one is above criticism in this regard, even himself - again, to quote 'Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong.' Again, I feel as though he would resonate with Socrates here: 'Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, and stupid people already have all the answers'. With Aventurine, he is quick to mock his appearance as over-the-top and vapid - once again making it clear his distate for vanity and hollow displays of showiness (albeit he may have been acting for Sunday's sake here. Also, no comment about this coming from a man who runs around in a toga, lmao) Equally, with Aventurine, it is clear that Ratio is willing to learn from him - he apologises when he offends, he abhors his methodology and yet he still relies upon it and trusts in Aventurine's plan, he is drawn to him in some ways precisely because he is so different to himself. Aventurine (at least styles himself) as impulsive to Ratio's slow and steady methodology, Aventurine whose learning has been entirely self-made vs Ratio who has spent his life in classrooms, Ratio who scoffs at Aventurine's favourite games of chance yet adds slot machines to his simulated universe. And to Socrates, the experience of aporia – in all of its discomfort and disruption – is the very catalyst of wonder, and that wonder was not just the root of wisdom but also the way to live a good and happy life. There is something beautiful in this to me, and this extends to Ratio. Ratio fundamentally cares about life. For all his brashness, his lashing out against 'idiots', his harsh demeanour - he wants people to live good lives, he wants to contribute to the good of humanity - all people, even those he is annoyed by, he cares so profoundly and absolutely about life. The entire reason why he is obsessed with wisdom and learning is not to exalt or elevate himself, not as some kind of ritualistic expression of piety towards a deity, but it is instead an expression of devotion towards life itself. Ratio has a strict work out routine not so that he can show off his body, but because living healthily is living well and working out is a component of that. Even the way he fusses and worries about Aventurine, someone he is pointedly irritated by, reveals how deeply his care runs. So so much of his character is centered on caring for life, even if it is not immediately obvious.

Finally, I'd like to highlight some ways in which Ratio is not like Socrates. First of all, Socrates was repeatedly described as 'ugly' by fellow philosophers Plato and Xenophon - this is contrast to Ratio being repeatedly described as 'handsome'. This is an interesting subversion to me (albeit likely an indulgent one) as in both cases both men attempt to distance their physical appearance from the weight of their words. Ratio wears the bust for many reasons, but way to view it is that he is attempting to stop his appearance from bearing any influence in the subject of debate.

Socrates was also said to be blessed by a divine touch, and as we know, this is something that agonises Ratio as Nous has not yet turned THEIR gaze towards him.

Lastly, Ratio has - thankfully - not yet been ordered by the state to drink hemlock for all his trouble-making and blustering. Though perhaps he may someday be put on trial by the IPC if the theories that he is working alongside Aventurine to undermine the corporation are true - we will just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading my little ramble. I'd be super interested in anyone's thoughts if they'd like to share, but regardless, I'll leave off on some of my favourite wee quotes from the Rat man:

'Even a life marked by failure is a life worth living - it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.'

'Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.'

#dr ratio #ratio #aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #my witterings #i love the rat man so much idk #much of the information i describe about Socrates comes from the podcast History of Philosophy without the Gaps #which I highly recommend if this is your kind of thing lol #but mostly I just wanted to have fun spinning my hyperfixation around lol #Also I make a few declarative statements throughout this but know that I do not claim to be a scholar of greek philosophy lol #please check the verasity for yourselves before relying on what I have to say #for I know nothing u see u see? :P #also I just wanna add in that I do NOT think Ratio is a perfect human being #ratio can be hypocritical and cruel and ignorant just like the rest of us #but I adore that too as afterall he is also an expression of humanity #with all its earthy faults

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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Thank you sm 😭 you actually did so good! It felt so nice to see my favorite creepy boy with those head canons 🥹🥹 but yes your writing is absolutely amazing!! I can’t wait to keep seeing everything you write!! And I apologize in advance if I ever get too excited and request too much 🥹

Perhaps creepy boy relationship head canons with a fem!reader who attempts to steal their clothes because they miss them?

- 🩶 Anon

Laughing Jack, Eyeless Jack, and Hoodie x fem!reader who steals their clothes because she misses them!

went ahead and threw in some other characters that i think would be silly with this request since you didnt specify :3! was gonna add slenderman but im on the fence about whether or not his clothes are a part of his body.. shrugs!! feels weird not doing masky since im doing hoodie too but shrugs again laughing jack included as you state hes your favorite :3 and WAAAAH im glad you enjoyed the previous request!! and no need to apologize; i get it !! sometimes i get excited too with requesting stuff !! ill let you know if youre being too intense (though i gotta admit i love writing creepypasta stuff, had a longish break between august and now where i hardly wrote for it and i missed writing for the fandom loads TToTT)

EYELESS JACK:

honestly for a moment i was going to say his mask but i genuinely think that would be a deal breaker for him since it kind of acts as a comfort and security thing for him. even if hes not wearing the mask around you, dont take it. now his hoodie or one of his shirts... thats a different story.. would rather you ask him, though, but he does find it a little sweet that its because you missed him.. mind you he thinks so lowly of himself that he might even be a little shocked that you *miss him.. might let you keep on his shirts! might have to wash it though and patch up a hole or two but its nothing major.. though i dont think he would let you keep one of his hoodies, he has way less of those than he does shirts and he kind of needs them to keep warm.. also the hood comes in handy.. for things.. will expect you to return his belongings when asked, will not take any excuses since they are his belongings and he cant really waltz into a store and go shopping

LAUGHING JACK:

okay so this one is a little funny since i do personally hc that his clothes are just a part of his body for the sake of the post lets turn a blind eye.. theres so many options for you.. his shirt (sleeves! long and floppy!) or a spare sweater than hes claimed... hmm.. i think regardless of what piece of clothing you've taken from him he would be thrilled that you miss him THAT much! he rarely goes out, in fact i dont think its often that he goes far from where his music box is.. gotta stay in decent range, you know? but the point still stands... you miss him? i think that actually does wonders for his abandonment issues, since it reassures him that you care about him and think of him when hes away. probably scoops you up in his arms and hugs you, likely wrapping his arms around you like a snake. offers to never let you go, and kind of sticks true to that until you need to tend to your bodily needs

HOODIE:

another victim of jacket thief... a moment of silence for this man losing the thing that literally sparked his name.. okay jokes aside i dont think he would care that much, hes probably hoarded other clothing while staying with you; from hoodies to sweaters. so hes not going to sweat it if you briefly snatch something from him so long as you eventually give it back.. might sign some teasing words at you for missing him, might also prompt a session of you two cuddling.. good luck getting up because hes probably not going to let go.. why would he, you missed him! also might make him try to spend more time with you since every now and then he does have decently long periods of just. being gone doing whatever it is that he does.. probably leaves you his main hoodie and wears a different one when he knows hes about to dip for a while..

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack x you #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you

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astrogirlythings · 2 months ago

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Ketu Mahadasha - Overview :

It lasts for 7 years. It happens after the Mercury mahadasha.. the Venus mahadasha starts after ketu mahadasha.

Ketu is NOT a malefic planet.. I repeat.. Ketu is NOT a malefic planet. It is the most spiritual planet ever. It teaches the most important lessons that one needs to learn in order to evolve and mature.

The events to expect during ur Ketu Mahadasha:

Loss of relationships (Love, friends and family). But you will be losing those who don't add value to your life. Don't worry.. all that is lost (people) will be replaced by new and valuable people.

It's highly likely that u will have a very painful breakup or if u r married... U maybe divorced. (It depends on placement also.)

Being clueless about one's own interests in career / profession. It will take time for u to find yourself.. no matter what u try.. there r chances that u will fail.. hard. But it is ok.

Ego death. The things u r proud of will be taken away from u. Ketu teaches everyone that nothing is permanent. You're wealth, health.. everything can be taken away. All u will have is God.. this is time in ur life when r forced to kneel in front of God. Be humble and pray to God.. wholeheartedly.

You have to pay ur karmic debt. The purpose of Ketu Mahadasha is karmic debt. Do charity / donations. Feed the homeless. Feed Street animals.

Your mind is not reliable for making any huge decisions during this period. It's highly recommended to stop what ur doing and think properly before making any decisions.

If u didn't recognise any hidden talents / strengths in u.. u will definitely recognise them during this period.

Worst case : Death of someone u r overly dependent on. Death of a parent. Death of a child. Homelessness.

The hardest antardasha in the ketu mahadasha is definitely the Saturn antardasha :

It lasts for 1 year.

It teaches some hard hitting lessons.. about personal relationships.

It forces u to be in isolation / alone.

The natal will be weak and suffer with certain illnesses.

U will lose some of ur friends.

This period is definitely painful but the lessons u learn r very valuable...

A big advice that I would give to those who r in this dasha is - don't wear black. And do what keeps ur thoughts positive.

The easiest antardasha in the ketu mahadasha is definitely the Mercury antardasha :

This is the last antardasha in ketu mahadasha.

It lasts for a year.

Mercury will give u a positive mindset.

It will bring back ur decision making skills and intelligence.

It will help u in looking at the positive in the lessons you've learnt.

It will help u in securing a good job.. that is best suited for ur abilities.

It will help u make new friends and be socially active.

By the end of Ketu Mahadasha.. u will be a completely different person.

After the Ketu mahadasha.. u will have Venus Mahadasha.. which is full of happiness and bliss. It is all about comfort, pleasure, committed relationship and love.

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someverygaymoth · 12 days ago

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I think I heard this mentioned before while scrolling your blog, so, add on with my own headcanons.

The hate from Killer's eyes gets between his joints. It doesn't necessarily affect him, mostly just annoying, and sometimes if he doesn't move for long periods of time, it builds up and he gets stiff, but he doesn't like it and wears turtlenecks and gloves to hide it.

I think more people need to write magic turning into disabilities in UT and UTMV. People's magic who sparks and burns them, healers who get very tired if they heal people, or the opposite and get sick due to magic buildup if they don't.

Silly.

I hardcore agree! I'm thrice physically disabled (I just really won the lottery guys idk /sarc) so I looove to project that onto my sillies.

I love writing things like Dust's overactive magic from his LV being disabling, causing migranes, causing burns when he doesn't find a way to vent it properly.

Killer's hate blinding him and gunking up his voice and his cervicals, maybe making him lose mobility in his neck and jaw, and his soul making him more susceptible to illness.

Horror's previous malnutrition making his joints very damaged, or his bones more brittle. His head injury causing fine motor skills problems, brain fog, and migranes. He drops stuff all the time, his hands just won't cooperate with him, It's so frustrating for him... SOMEBODY KISS HIM ABOUT IT!!!

XC's determination causing Cross to melt and little sometimes when he's stressed, or causing soul pain or migranes.

Nightmare's corruption holding him together but also leaving his true body unable to heal, putting him in a constant state of severe chronic pain! Love NM using mobility aids.

Error's glitching causing chronic pain and amnesia, his strings causing vision problems.

Geno's general state just being chronic pain and causing him to be extra susceptible to illness, maybe chronically low magic too since he's stuck in a state where he was bleeding it all out.

They're just so silly!!!!

#utmv #undertale au #ut au #ut aus #undertale fandom #killer sans #dreamtale nightmare sans #horror sans #dusttale sans #dust sans #horrortale sans #xtale sans #xtale cross #xtale cross sans #nightmare sans #disability #geno sans #genocide sans #error sans

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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: 7129

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

12. Pôt de crème

Mary

That day really winds up feeling like the epitome of a terrible horrible, no good, very bad fucking day for Mary, and it starts early. Leaving the apartment for work after the massage cocktease from Hell is odd.

She’s left feeling happy to have helped, but also hurt, disappointed, and mad at herself, of all things. That was the perfect opportunity for her to make a move and finally force those two to tell her that they’re not interested! (Though a small and pitifully thirsty part of her brain still exists in the fantasy land where they’d take her up on it.) But she’d chickened out and kept it strictly platonic. Ugh. Lame.

She manages not to think about it for a while, as she gets into the rhythm of her day at the bakery. She still can’t shake the cloud of anxiety and irritability looming over her, though. The good old days of any lasting effects from Bucky’s drops are gone, and instead she’s left to slowly percolate a bad mood as she clocks in and figures out the best order to get her projects done for that day.

Dennis is the manager on schedule, which sucks because Mary’s never liked him, but he’s in the office for the most part, since he’s a stuck up do-nothing, and she's able to pretend that she’s alone.

No matter though. She can’t focus on anything, feels overly emotional, and almost breaks out in tears when she drops a tray of cupcakes on the floor. She manages to hold it together as she cleans up the mess, and moves onto the next task. Her list for the day now feels miserably long, and she doesn’t even enjoy decorating the base-iced babycakes that are waiting for her from yesterday. She fucks up the writing on one of them and loses her shit over something that is not worth losing her shit over. That’s the stupid thing that finally pushes her to tears, and she tosses her piping bag angrily onto the counter, what the fucking herself and feeling like she’s going crazy.

Like baseball, there’s no crying in kitchens: That’s what the walk-in’s for. So, she hides back by the dairy products until she’s able to pull herself together. She comes out shivering, not crying, and in a horrible mood.

Buttercream is next, so she gets the sugar boiling and the egg whites whisking in the forty quart. She tries to talk herself up in her head as she goes through motions of streaming in the sugar and then scaling the butter she’ll add to it once it’s whipped cool. “You’re not bad at your job,” she mumbles to herself, trying to push the threat of tears away with positive thoughts. “You’re not.”

Jesus fuck, why is she feeling like this? Nothing that bad has even happened! So she dropped some fucking cupcakes, so what? It happens. She checks her phone to see if she’s about to get her period, but that’s not it. Her focus is shit, so of course she eventually goes back to thinking about Bucky and Steve.

Today is Bucky’s day off. Mary thinks about him being in pain that morning and how his movements had been crippled by pain. … She thinks about his broad, muscled back under her hands, his warm skin, the moans of relief he’d given whenever she worked out a knot. Poor guy. Even though she hates to think of enduring it again, she has to admit to herself that she does care about Bucky, and she would endure it if he needed her help. Hell, if it’s something that’ll help him in the long run, she’ll have to do at least one or two more massage sessions to teach Steve the ropes so he can help his husband in her absence.

Bucky doesn’t want her to do it. She pouts about that, but scolds herself as soon as she realizes she’s doing so. Don’t be lame over guys who don’t want you. So Bucky and Steve just want to be gay together in peace, so what? Why is she losing her shit over the tiniest rejection like this?!

She ruminates on it while she’s at the stove stirring a massive batch of pôt de crème custard, and it occurs to her that the part she’s actually most upset about isn’t their platonic feelings for her: it’s her own lack of bravery and straightforwardness with Bucky and Steve, and how she’s become such a pathetic wallflower over the past few months.

Maybe if she’d flat out asked about a romantic relationship from the beginning, she could’ve gotten the rejection out of the way and been putting herself out there to meet someone new by now. She might’ve met a Dom at one of the Center’s socials, or at least could’ve been swiping the apps and going on dates. Getting laid.

But instead suddenly she’s turned into a shy girl (obnoxious). She hasn’t been a virgin since college, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t sleeping with whoever she could get her hands on, back before Steve and Bucky 'adopted' her. She’d been so good at it back then, saying what she meant and going for what she wanted, dragging at least one new guy back to her place to fuck every other week. Why can’t she just do something now?

Frowning, she decides that she will do something over it. The ideal would be to move back to her own place, but she can’t with the custody order in place and Dr. Linda on Bucky’s side. Gritting her teeth, she figures she’ll do the next best thing: she’ll start getting laid again. She’ll go out and meet people. She’ll go out straight after work each day. Unless he wants to physically tie her up and keep her prisoner in the apartment, Bucky can’t stop it.

She’s just got to work up the nerve to break his rules like that. Nerve which, in her current mood, seems quite out of reach. She sighs and reaches up to grab the Grand Marnier off the shelf for the pôt de crème. All she feels like doing now is going back to the apartment and crawling into bed, to be honest. She wonders if this is what actual clinical depression feels like. Maybe. Maybe worse. Sarcastically, she thinks that a shot or three of alcohol would certainly help, and then she pauses with her hand on the bottle as she’s about to pour it into the custard. Oh.

She’s not drinking anymore.

Fuck. That’s it. She’s hardly ever had sex sober in her life. Barely ever even flirted without some liquid courage in her system. That’s what’s changed. She always used pick up guys in bars, or at other places where everybody had a drink in their hand. And at home at her apartment, whenever the creeping buildup of anxiety and irritability would get to be too much, a couple vodka sprites were what made her feel better. She pauses in her stirring. Thinking about it now is making her almost physically yearn for a stiff one.

She looks down at the bottle in her hand, shame coloring her cheeks as soon as she has the thought. Even at her worst, Mary never drank on the job. She grimaces at herself and hurriedly sets the bottle back on the shelf before temptation can win out, then turns back to the stove.

“Fuck!” she hisses, scrambling to turn off the burner when she’s met with the sight of lumpy pôt de crème. She whisks it frantically to try and stop it, but it’s too far gone: The eggs in the custard have curdled. She throws her head back and groans. “God dammit!”

She makes a last ditch effort to save it by dumping the lumpy custard into a Cambro, tossing in a few ice cubes, and furiously burr-mixing it with the immersion blender, but it’s no use. She’s irrevocably ruined a massive batch of dessert (with the expensive liqueur already added in it, to boot) because she wasn’t paying attention. Growling, she dumps it all in the trash bin before Dennis can happen to walk by and see, then stomps back to the fridge to grab ingredients to rescale the recipe.

She lines up sheet trays of paper dessert cups on her workstation table for decanting … and takes one cup with her over to the stove while she stands there and cooks the second batch of pôt de crème.

It’s when she’s stirring and pouring that second measure of liqueur into the pot that she gives into impulse and pours a shot’s worth of the stuff into the extra paper baking cup—that she now realizes she brought over for this express purpose in the first place. She gives the empty kitchen a furtive glance, and tosses it back. “Ugh.”

Orange flavored liqueur? Really Mary?

She hears the rebuke in Bucky’s voice in her head, which is annoying and drives her to repeat the action once she’s drank the first. She tosses back a second. Gross gross gross. She checks the label on the bottle: 40% ABV. Good. She puts the bottle back on the shelf, pissed about feeling so uncomfortable in her skin that she stubbornly refuses to feel guilty over her actions, and finishes cooking the custard to a smooth nappé this time. Perfect.

She pours the custard over the white chocolate and lets it melt. She burr mixes it, strains it. Ready to go.

Later maybe she’ll feel bad about it, but as she grabs the sauce gun and begins the tedious process of dispensing the pôt de crème into the cups, that warm, pleasant feeling of a buzz starts to creep up on her, and she finds herself in a better mood before long. Things seem brighter, and she finally feels like she can breathe. She’s able to think about Bucky and Steve without feeling like a piece of dirt, and even laughs about the stupid massage episode. Two shots of liqueur on an empty stomach makes that seem like not such a big deal, and she simply decides that she won’t volunteer for massage duty anymore, because obviously it was a mistake. She’d liked helping Bucky to feel better when he was hurting, but not enough to make up for having to endure the very non-platonic swooping in her belly she’d gotten from having her hands all over his naked back. Fuck, is he ever hot. Both of them are. They’re bodies are just, guh.

She doesn’t need that frustration in her life.

She’s got a moderate buzz by the time she finishes her next project, and she cheerfully bops onto her next task.

It’s such a relief, not having that heavy feeling of anxiousness and general uncomfortability weighing down on her. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She forgot how much a few drinks helped. She gets giddy and chases that feeling, quickly sneaking another quick shot (this time of the rum they use on the rum buns, though, because it really was gross that she drank that liqueur straight—blecgh). What’s one more quick drink in between batches of cakes going in and out of the oven, after all?

… And then just once more, after she’s added the last chunk of the butter into the whipping forty quart. By the time she’s got everything set out to basic-build the next bunch of babycakes, she’s in a great mood. It’s almost as good as the subspace had been, back in the beginning with Bucky. She hums songs under her breath and moves around the kitchen assembling and icing the cute little five inch cakes that are her specialty.

It’s her pet project, something she’d suggested to Mr. Flaherty, the bakery’s owner. Not only are they friggin’ adorable, they’re easy to bang out a bunch of them all at once, small enough to cost pennies to make, and big enough and cute enough that people are willing to pay way more than the cakes are actually worth. Mary knows for a fact that they have the highest profit margin of any item in the bakery. She’s privately very proud that Mr. Flaherty had listened to her idea and decided it was something they would offer on the regular menu. Dennis had underplayed it—like the jealous killjoy he is.

Mary celebrates her good mood with another teeny sip of booze and then spends extra effort on smooth-icing in all the best pastel colors, thinking that today is a great day and can only get better from here.

Wrongo bongo.

“What the heck!”

“Oh, shit,” Mary hisses, running into the back when she smells burning bread and hears her manager’s voice calling out. Sure enough, Dennis is there, oven mitts in hand, angrily sliding a tray of blackened croissants onto the speed rack, and going back to the oven to pull out another. There are six trays of ruined croissants, and Mary grimaces “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Dennis ignores her until he’s finished pulling out all the wasted product, and when he’s done, he lays her out. “This isn’t fucking Panera Bread,” he tells her angrily. “We’re a mom and pop bakery. Profit margins are slimmer than slim!”

Mary cringes. “I know, I know, I’m sor—”

“How much money did you just cost us?” Dennis demands, hands on his hips. “Huh? Tell me. I want you to stand there and think about it and tell me how much.”

Mary stares for a second, then realizes that he’s dead serious. Humiliated, she licks her lips and does the math: 6 trays of 10 = 60 croissants, 60 x $4 per ganache-stuffed croissant, minus about $30 ingredients cost. It takes her longer than it normally would, since she’s been drinking, but when she’s worked it out she winces and looks down in shame. “I dunno … A little over two hundred, I guess.”

Dennis flails his hand holding the oven mitts. “We can’t afford to have you ruining hundreds of dollars of profit, Mary. Get it together.”

She frowns, indignant. “I was up front helping a customer,” she defends.

“That’s what the oven timer is for.”

“I know that. I just forgot to—”

“You’re forgetting a lot of things lately.” He gestures angrily at the trays of blackened croissants. “I’ve tried to help you. I gave you time off to get your shit together when your boyfriend came in and told me about your mental condition.”

Mary grits her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dom, dungeon master, whatever,” he says nastily. “I don’t know what you people get up to. But I’ve given you a lot of chances cause you’re apparently dealing with some shit. I can’t keep doing that forever if you keep costing this place money.”

Mary glares and steps up closer, getting in his face. “Maybe if you actually hired someone for front of house on Tuesdays, then I could actually focus back here!”

Dennis’ expression changes suddenly. He narrows his eyes at her and leans in closer. “What’s that?” he says, deathly quiet.

Mary huffs. “I said, you need to hire more—”

“You smell like alcohol.”

Everything comes to a stop as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Oh, fuck. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “What?” She scowls like that’s absurd, about to say something to deny it, but the words die on her lips when she sees the way Dennis is looking at her. He knows. Mary feels sick.

Dennis’ expression darkens further. “Are you drinking on the job, Mary?”

“No!” (what’s she supposed to do, tell the truth?)

“I don’t believe you.” He squares his jaw. “I’m calling Mr. Flaherty in.”

“What?!”

“Two hundred dollars of wasted product? Drinking on the job?” He’s already walking over to the wall phone and picking it up. When he looks back in Mary’s direction, there’s a gleam in his eyes. Fucker never did like her. “I told him I thought you had a drinking problem, and now I have proof.”

“You don’t have shit!” Mary cries. She’s actually panicking though, as she watches him dial the number to call the bakery’s owner.

“I have the security cameras,” he says, looking vindictively pleased. “We’ll check them. You’re gonna be out of a job.”

Mary stands there and watches in horrified disbelief as Dennis calls Mr. Flaherty and tells him that he needs to have a word with him in person that afternoon about “something serious.” He doesn’t give details, and when the call ends and he hangs up the phone, he shoots Mary a smug look. “I’ll work the register so that you can finish your shift back here and not make any more stupid mistakes.”

Mary scoffs, panicked and angry and sick to her stomach with what’s happening. “No way! Forget it!” She hurries to untie her apron and yank it off. “I’m not gonna stick around here for you to lie and get me fired. I quit!” She tosses the apron to the floor and stalks back to grab her purse from the office, too panicked to think straight. She cannot stay there and see poor old Mr. Flaherty watch video evidence of her drinking on the job. He’s always been so nice to her, and now she’s betrayed him and fucked everything up. She’s just ruined the only job she’s ever liked.

Dennis is getting less and less angry and more gleeful about it. “Bye bye, Hot-Mess Mary,” he sneers. “Don’t bother coming back. We’ll mail you your last paycheck. Have a nice life.”

“Fuck you, Dennis!” she yells, though her voice comes out choked with emotion. She shoulders her purse and whirls around before there’s any chance of him seeing her tearing up. She hurries for the back door that leads out to the alleyway. It's heavy and metal, and she shoulders it open with a grunt, stepping out. “Jealous prick,” she says, only to hear him laugh meanly and call out from inside,

“Jealous? Of you? An alcoholic pervert?”

The heavy back door slams shut before she can answer, and there’s no handle on the outside. It takes approximately two point five seconds for her to burst out crying.

Steve

“Fuck, Honey, ugh.”

Steve digs his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass and shuffles closer on his knees. On the couch (whose cushions have since been put back into place), Bucky parts his legs even farther and Steve takes him in deeper. His other hand keeps nudging the toy that’s buried in his husband’s ass—the glass p-spot toy, because unlike Steve, Bucky loves firmness but hates vibrations up there. Steve’s been gently fucking him with it, nudging it against his prostate again and again, having found the perfect angle. Every grunt and moan that he gets out of Bucky has his own cock throbbing in his underwear, but he isn’t touching himself, is devoting every ounce of his attention to resolving the “problem” that Mary’s massage left Bucky with.

“You know,” Bucky says, voice a little breathy as he speaks between groans. “I’m never gonna—nnh. Never gonna look at this couch again without thinking of her oily hands sliding all over my back."

Steve hums in agreement, the sound reverberating around Bucky’s cock and pulling another hiss from him. Steve pops off to glance upwards. “Me too,” he says, and they share a look of heated yearning, before he shakes it off and sinks his mouth back down on Bucky’s throbbing length.

He’s been dragging it out, having fun with it. But now it’s gotten sloppy and wet, and Steve’s jaw aches, and he really wants to make Bucky come so he can finally get a hand around himself. He hums around Bucky’s cock once more while he still can, then takes him all the way to the hilt, nose pressing into his pubes and throat spasming around the head.

“Oh! shit …” Bucky’s fingers dig sharply into Steve's scalp. His hips stutter up of their own accord, making Steve choke a little, but he soldiers on. Bucky makes a helpless little sound that is very close to a whimper, and which has Steve’s belly pulling tight with arousal. “Close, Baby. So close, fuck …”

Steve purposefully chokes himself, letting it hit the back of his throat again and again, swallowing compulsively. It gets him what he wants, which is for this blowjob to be over.

Above him, Bucky slumps further on the cushions and groans long and low, the tortured moan letting Steve know that he’s cresting that edge. He pulls back to suck hard on the head, abandoning the toy to the clenching of Bucky's ass so he can stroke him through it. He hums happily when he feels the pulse of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the hot spurts of cum, the clenching of thighs muscle beneath his hands. Fuck, it’s sexy.

Having been with the man for so long, Steve knows exactly when to ease off. He gentles his touch and stops sucking. He waits with Bucky’s softening cock in his mouth, not pulling off until the hands that were gripping him desperately a moment ago smooth gently through his hair in gratitude. Steve pulls off, keeps his mouth closed, doesn’t swallow. Bucky’s flushed and wet cock falls onto his belly, gorgeously swollen and spent. Steve’s staring at it covetously when Bucky gives a long, shaky exhale from above, tapering off in a satisfied groan. “Stevie,” he sighs happily. “Mmhh. Fuck. C’mere.”

He pulls Steve up onto the couch, not satisfied until he’s got him in his lap. Steve straddles him and smiles with his mouth still closed. “Good boy,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to gently cup the front of his neck. His eyes are heavy lidded but still heated as he strokes his thumb over Steve’s windpipe. He loves to watch Steve swallow his cum, and that’s why Steve hasn’t yet, is waiting for his signal. He’s very good at making a show of it: dragging it out, eye contact, showing the load on his tongue if Bucky wants, swallowing slowly and obviously; really turning it into an act of obedience for his husband.

He’s surprised when Bucky doesn’t tell him to swallow. “Hold it,” he says instead, confusing Steve. Bucky grins devilishly and reaches down between their bodies. He returns with the glass toy in hand and holds it up. “Get it wet," he purrs.

And Steve’s entire body goes stiff as he re-remembers that he’s married to the filthiest man on the fucking planet.

Steve must be filthy too, though, because a massive wave of arousal sweeps through him as Bucky holds up the toy with a dirty smirk and commands him to wet it up—with his own cum. Steve almost feels lightheaded from how all the blood rushes to his cock and away from his brain. He groans through his mouthful of cum, and Bucky’s lips curl. “You heard me. Do it.”

He looks down and aims, letting his mouthful of cum slide out onto the tip of the glass toy that was buried in Bucky’s ass not ten seconds ago. It’s obscene, filthy, and that only makes his belly swirl that much harder as Bucky uses his flesh fingertips to spread the cum around lazily, coating the clear glass with his own sticky cum. “Good,” he praises, still smirking at Steve through half lidded eyes. “Now, put it in.”

Steve groans and takes the toy from him. They haven’t done prep, but it’s a small, slim toy, and he knows it’ll slide in easily with the help of his husband’s own jizz slicking the way. Jesus Christ. He starts to move, intending to take his underwear off, but Bucky stops him with an amused shake of the head.

“Uh uh. Just pull ‘em aside and put it in. Keep your briefs on.”

“Fuck.” He listens, reaching back to pull his underwear to the side and press the head of the toy to his rim. He works it inside, eyelids fluttering when it pops past the muscle and glides in smoothly. “Oh,” he sighs, letting his underwear snap back and shifting his hips to feel the stretch against his rim, the heavy curve of it settling into place against his prostate. “Fuck.” He starts rocking his hips in tiny motions to work it inside him, barely-there sounds of pleasure escaping him each time it does. “Ooh, Buck,” he breathes. He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed until Bucky startles him with a kiss, growling and tugging him in close by the back of the neck. “Mmph!”

Their lips clash in a harsh, demanding kiss, Bucky taking possession of it and gripping the back of his neck hard to keep him still. Steve pants and whines and takes it, hips juddering forward to grind his aching dick against Bucky’s stomach. Each dominating swipe of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth makes him ache for more. “Buck,” he pants, right against Bucky's lips, where he's shamelessly kissing his messy mouth. “Baby, oh, please?”

“Yeah?” His hand cups Steve from over his underwear, squeezing the line of his erection. “You’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he husks, dipping under the waistband to curl his fingers around him. “Make me feel so good, fuck, I love you.”

Steve moans and rests his forehead on Bucky's naked shoulder, looking down to watch. He whines when he sees that it’s the metal hand—which he already knew by feel, but the sight of it is a whole other level of hot. Steve thinks of it like a knife kink, or a gun kink: seeing something so steely and dangerous that close to him, wrapped around and working him, giving him pleasure. The sight of all that black and gold metal on his cock makes his belly clamp down hard in need. “Oh fuck, ” he breathes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.” Bucky kisses his ear and breathes hotly against him as he pumps and twists his hand, going tight just the way Steve likes. It’s messy from the precum that Steve’s dick keeps blurting out, and he whimpers at the soft, wet sounds it begins making. “I know,” Bucky whispers. “You get so worked up. I love that. Big fat cock n’ balls, but you wet up for me just like a girl, dontcha' Sweetheart? Bet you started right down there on your knees, too. Hard and leaking just from sucking me off, making a mess in your panties.” Steve groans in embarrassment and Bucky snickers. “Aw, don’t try to deny it. I saw that boner when you crawled on up here. Saw the wet spot on those tighty-whities, too.” Playfully, he snaps the elastic band of Steve’s underwear against his hip. “You get off on it. Pretty little cocksucker.”

Steve humps into his fist, which between how slick it is and how tightly Bucky’s gripping him, feels fucking amazing. “Nnuhh,” he moans, “I get off on you. You were so—fuck, mmph—so hard when she left. I f-felt bad for you.”

Bucky growls and strokes faster. “Don’t be patronizing, baby. I saw the state she left you in. At least I had the excuse of getting rubbed down.” He snickers lowly and presses another kiss to Steve's ear. “She wasn’t even touching you.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly, as he recalls the image of Mary sitting on the bed with Bucky, rubbing his naked back with her oiled hands—Her tiny oiled hands, that would look so good on their cocks. Fuck, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. He pants, trying to get words out. “I—nuhh, oh. I wanted to—mmm …”

Bucky bites his earlobe. “Wanted to what? Tell me.”

“Wanted to watch her give you a happy ending,” he grunts. “Tell you to turn over n’ watch her jerk you off.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, voice dark and interested. “Mm. You miss women.” Steve whines and nods in lieu of an answer. “Well maybe we’ll get a third sometime. A special treat. Only this time we'll get a girl, take turns fucking her. Maybe I’ll even have her fuck you with a strap-on.” Steve moans and kisses him dirtily, and Bucky reciprocates, hand leaving Steve’s cock so he can hold his jaw with both hands.

Steve whimpers and his hips keep moving, chasing the friction that isn’t there anymore. “Buck,” he breaks off from the kiss to beg. “Please. Please. I need to cum.”

Bucky smiles and takes pity on him, but he switches up his hands, using the flesh one on Steve’s cock so that he can squeeze even more, really wringing up hard and thumbing under the head on every stroke. Steve sobs and sits back, bracing on Bucky’s shoulders and watching himself fuck into clench of his fist. “Yeah,” he moans. “Oh, God. Fuck yeah, just like that.”

“How’s that toy feel?” Bucky reaches his other hand underneath and taps against the glass toy’s base a few times— ‘tap, tap, tap,’ —humming in satisfaction when Steve cries out and ruts desperately into his fist. “Ooh,” he goads. “It feels that good, huh?” Tap, tap, tap. “It that gonna make you cum?”

“Nnnh.” Steve nods tightly, hips working hard. “Yeah, oh. Yeah. M’gonna. Ohgn…””

His balls draw up tight and his cock jerks when Bucky takes hold of the toy’s base and starts slowly pulling it out. That feeling against his rim is what does it, pushing him over the edge and making the pleasure coalesce and snap.

He cries out sharply as he shoots, his body straining and hips pulsing, ribbons of white cum striping over Bucky’s naked stomach, one after another.

“Fuck, Honey. So beautiful. Fuck that’s a lot. Fuck. Lookit’ you, big boy.”

His cooing praise drags it out longer, and by the time Steve’s dick is spent and softening again, he’s collapsed forward against Bucky, mess of cum between them be damned. He rests his head on his shoulder and hugs him while he recovers. “Fuck,” pants, closing his eyes and enjoying the sheer relief of it all. “That was good. I needed that.”

Bucky hums and rubs his back. “Me too.”

When they finally peel themselves off each other, they’re faced with two wet, spent dicks, and the mess of cum that did not magically disappear just because Steve wanted it to. He sighs and climbs off the couch.

“Shower,” Bucky decides, and goes into the bathroom with Steve following behind. He starts the water running and shucks his joggers that he'd only just pulled back up. “Feel like we were just doin’ this,” he complains.

“That’s cause we were.” Steve pads over and stands against him, leaning in, chest to chest.

Bucky leans against the wall and wraps his arms around Steve’s lower back while they wait for the water to warm up. “Do you really want a threesome?” he asks. “Like we used to do?"

Steve sighs and presses his forehead into Bucky’s chest. His first inclination is to say yes. They used to sleep with men, have threesomes a few times a year, for fun. They’d only stopped because they’d mutually fallen into contentment with married life. But Steve realizes it’s the way Bucky’s framed it: does he want to have threesomes again. With a girl. And the answer is no. Steve doesn’t want to have 'a threesome' anymore, with 'a girl', or 'a guy'. He doesn’t want anything casual. He says as much, and groans into Bucky’s skin. “I just want her,” he says. “I want it to be serious, and I want it with her.”

Bucky strokes his back, not saying anything for a long minute. “Yeah,” he eventually agrees. “Me too.”

Steve makes a mournful sound in his throat. “Can’t we try? Maybe ask her out on a date? She might come around if she doesn’t feel like we’re just trying to jump her bones straight away, y’know? We’ve never really had that time with her. It went straight from ‘how do you do’ to moving her in here with us.” Bucky’s chest rises and falls with a deep inhale, and his hands have stopped moving on Steve’s back, which is how Steve knows he's really thinking about it. “Buck?” he tries. “C’mon. Let’s just give it a shot. Linda said she needs sex anyways, and I know you don’t like the idea of her with another man.”

Against him, bucky growls grumpily.

“Just one more try,” Steve pleads. “Let’s just tell her upfront we have feelings for her and that we’d like to court her.”

Bucky snorts. "'Court’?”

Steve whaps him and pulls his head back. “You know what I mean. Nice stuff. Take her out, buy her flowers.”

“I know what you mean.”

They stare in each other's eyes as Steve reaches over to feel the shower water. It's warm. “It’ll be her choice," he says. "We won’t be bossy.”

“Kind of hard not to be bossy when she thrives on that.”

Steve gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “Yeah I know what you mean.” He pulls the curtain and goes to step into the shower, but Steve stops him from behind with a hand on his arm—his left one. “And this,” he says, looking at him with authority. “Let me take this off. And you keep it it off around the house like you used to do.” He watches the brief reluctance that plays out on Bucky’s face, but is relieved when his husband doesn’t turn it into a fight. “Thank you, babe,” he says, taking the arm off and setting it out on their bed before returning to the bathroom. Bucky’s in the shower, so he steps in and stands with him under the spray. He wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, letting his left hand drag up over his stomach and chest, up to the anchor site where it meets his pec. “You can be a good Dom without it, you know,” he murmurs.

“... I know. It was silly.”

He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “Not silly. I love you.” In his arms, Bucky’s body bleeds all its tension and he lets a little bit of his weight come back through Steve, who kisses his neck again. “Tonight?” he asks, knowing that Bucky will know what he means.

Bucky nods. “Tonight.”

Bucky

“A bar?!”

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Bucky stares helplessly as Mary kicks off her shoes and walks (stumbles, is more like it) through the apartment and back towards her bedroom. The conversation they've just had was short and completely non-productive, other than that it's got Bucky feeling like he's on the verge of blowing up. “Mare, stop! Come back here.”

She throws him the finger over her shoulder and pushes into her bedroom, shutting the door harshly behind her. Bucky growls and starts for the hallway, but Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “Hang on, Babe.”

“She’s drunk!” Bucky hisses, turning furious eyes to Steve. “Been missing for hours and now this?! How did she even get it?”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky snarls, mad at Steve for being so fucking calm. “Did you give her her ID back?!”

“No! Don’t be stupid, babe.”

His eyes cut over, sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “She’s thirty Hon. I’m sure there are plenty of bartenders who’d serve her without checking.”

“Well that’s just, just …” Bucky sputters, struggling to find the words. “There have to be consequences!” He starts for the hall again but Steve grabs him and pulls him back and into a restraining hug. Bucky kind of wants to hit him. “Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve says. “Sh sh, just hang on a second. Take a deep breath.” He holds him tightly, rubbing his back and nosing at his neck, and Bucky realizes that Steve is employing some of the things he’s learned at the CDP, trying to calm him down.

He blinks, noticing how hot his face feels, how fast his pulse is thrumming underneath his skin. He exhales shakily, feeling bad. “Fuck. I'm ..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Steve whispers. “Maybe today’s not the best day, after all.”

Bucky’s eyes flick over in the direction of the kitchen table. “Better get rid of those, then,” he grunts, referring to the flowers Steve had picked up at the bodega for Mary.

“I will. And we’ll figure this out, find out what happened, and talk to her another day, okay? We'll get new flowers.”

“No, not okay,” Bucky insists, his anxiety ratcheting up again as he thinks of the state Mary just came home in. “We need to deal with her.”

Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, and Bucky feels like an asshole all over again. “What do you need?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky grits his teeth. To spank the ever loving shit outta that girl, he thinks but doesn’t say. He knows better than that, even on the verge of an episode, he can tell that he’s not being logical. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, pulls away from Steve because he’s embarrassed. “Nothin’.”

“Hey, it’s okay to need—”

“It’s not,” Bucky snaps, walking over to the couch and dumping himself onto it. He feels kind of sick—likely his blood pressure making him nauseous. “How am I supposed to be a good Dom for her when I can’t even keep myself in check? Christ.” He shoves his face into his hand. “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Steve takes a minute, and when he approaches Bucky it’s with a gentle, careful expression that Bucky hates. “Babe, you know that makes no sense, right?” Bucky just grunts and Steve says, “That's like a diabetic saying they should have better willpower to control their insulin levels.”

Bucky glares at him for the trite comparison, wants to snap at his husband to stop quoting CDP literature at him. But that’d be nasty, and he bites his tongue. “No,” he grunts.

“You got told by Linda that you’re not giving her enough, not doing enough to meet her needs, and it’s been days since you really went up. You think I can't see that her drops aren't doing it for you now? You're too in tune with her. You both need more. And I should’ve seen this coming.” Steve sinks down to the carpet in front of him and kneels there reaching to rub his palms over the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky scowls at the gesture. “That’s not your job,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m your husband,” Steve says, almost authoritatively, even though he’s keeping his voice soft and calm like the Center professionals taught him. “It’s my job to take care of you, always.” He rubs Bucky’s tense muscles from over his jeans. “Babe, c’mon. Let me help you.”

Bucky closes his eyes and counts to twenty. When he opens them again, Steve’s still there, waiting. Bucky reaches out and cups his face.

Steve presses into it. “Sir,” he whispers, eyes lowered.

Bucky feels so guilty at that, even as he can feel his blood pressure lowering from the small display of subservience. “I love you,” he says.

Steve smiles softly and squeezes his hands over Bucky’s knees. “I know.”

Bucky sighs. He releases Steve and slumps back into the couch cushions, feeling like the biggest burden. “I should call and book someone,” he says. Steve’s not a submissive and he shouldn’t have to play that role just to fulfill Bucky’s medical needs. Linda’s helped him come to terms with that over the years. Steve, the self-sacrificing punk, would do it anyway, but Bucky knows when he needs to ask for outside help. “Nathan can usually take me last minute.” Steve nods and stands up, brings Bucky his cellphone to make the call. He sits on the couch with him and pulls Bucky to lie with his head in his lap as he calls the Center and makes an appointment. “Okay,” he says when he’s done, tossing the phone aside. “Six-thirty. He’s coming in after hours just for little old me.”

“Good.”

Bucky’s eyes cut sideways towards the bedroom hallway. Their plans for the night are ruined, and if he didn’t have himself to deal with right now, he’d be hard pressed to keep himself from going in Mary’s room, trying to scold her. “What about her?” he asks glumly.

Steve snorts. “Little miss drunk? She’s probably passed out. Don’t worry about it. Besides,” he runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Can’t reason with someone when they’re like that. Discussion, punishment, scening? That’ll all have to wait until tomorrow, at least.”

Bucky makes a face and tries not to let his dominance start spiraling out of control again. “She’s going to AA.” Steve hums, and when Bucky looks up and catches his expression, Steve looks like he’s worrying for his safety. “Tomorrow,” he insists, obstinate. “I’ll take the day from work if I have to. Drag her there myself.”

“Maybe no dragging."

"Steve,"

"Linda first,” Steve suggests gently. “That’s a better first step, hm?” Bucky grunts, grumpy about it but knowing Steve’s right. He nods, and Steve runs kind hands through his hair. “Okay, good. That’s settled. Don’t have to think about it any more tonight.” He bends down and pecks a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “So, six-thirty?”

“Mmhm.”

“An hour. … You want to help me get dinner started before you go?”

Bucky nods, turning and pressing his face into Steve’s lower belly, rubbing his cheek against his soft tee shirt and warm body. “Love you,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish from his outburst before. He knows it’s not his fault, but he still feels inordinately grateful to have Steve supporting him. “You ever get tired of all this drama?”

“Shuddup,” Steve chuckles.

“Mm. You should leave me for a normie." He’s got his eyes closed against Steve’s stomach, but feels the reproachful pinch on his neck. “Ow.”

“If I’d wanted a normie, I’d have married a normie,” Steve scolds. He pets over where he pinched. “And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, cause I’ve got my sights set on another one’a you jerks. This is just a setback. We’ll let her sober up, you’ll go see the Pro, and then when everybody’s in the right frame of mind, we’ll deal with it. Now come on.” He pats Bucky on the back. “Mary's not the only one who can navigate a kitchen. I’ve got a recipe for chicken piccata we can try.”

Bucky sighs. He’s so fucking in love with Steve, and he’s never got any good way to say it. There's nothing. Wedding vows barely scratched the surface. “Okay,” he says, because what else is there to do but agree? Like most times, Bucky knows his more level-headed husband is right about this.

They get up and go into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients for chicken piccata, and Bucky is able to keep his mouth shut for a full five minutes before his anxiety ratchets back up and he returns to haranguing Steve about confronting Mary—possibly later that night.

*Next chapter starts out IMMEDIATELY with the big confrontation and beginning of their romantic and sexual relationship, so I promise y'all won't have to wait much longer!

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