#Perfect Computer Education

[perfectcomputer2]

Best Digital Marketing Training In Ahmedabad - Perfect Computer Education

Why Every Business Professional Needs the Best Digital Marketing Course in Ahmedabad

This is the digital era, and as such, online marketing skills are no longer an option but rather a necessity. To address this gap, Perfect Computer Education has come up with a curriculum that provides learners with the Best Digital Marketing Course in Ahmedabad. This course is intended to help business professionals not simply survive but thrive in a highly competitive marketplace. Perfect Computer Education understands this need very well, having been in the education business for quite some time.

Why Should You Take the Best Digital Marketing Course In Ahmedabad?

Digital marketing is at the core of every successful enterprise today. It also makes it possible for you to send messages out internationally, interact with your customers in real time and deliver measurable results. The idea of being able to create campaigns that resonate with your target audience and result in lead generation may be fascinating for you. With Perfect Computer Education, you can make all that come true.

Businesses operate within an incredibly aggressive context. Hence, one must know the art of digital platform utilization to get ahead. Social media marketing, search engine optimization, and email marketing are tools that will ensure you have an added advantage while trying to overcome competition. In addition to this, Perfect Computer Education offers comprehensive courses covering all these segments, thus preparing you adequately for your journey through the Internet.

Boost Your Career Prospects by Enrolling in The Best Digital Marketing Course in Ahmedabad

If you want a strong career future ahead of you, then consider adding digital marketing expertise to your professional toolkit. Employers nowadays search for job seekers who are experienced enough to add value right away. Finishing a top-ranked course like the Best Digital Marketing Course in Ahmedabad signifies readiness for updates and contribution from day one towards the company’s growth.

Visit us Now:- https://perfecteducation.net/digital-marketing-course-in-ahmedabad.php

[bigleapblog]

Your Guide to B.Tech in Computer Science & Engineering Colleges

In today's technology-driven world, pursuing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering (CSE) has become a popular choice among students aspiring for a bright future. The demand for skilled professionals in areas like Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning, Data Science, and Cloud Computing has made computer science engineering colleges crucial in shaping tomorrow's innovators. Saraswati College of Engineering (SCOE), a leader in engineering education, provides students with a perfect platform to build a successful career in this evolving field.

Whether you're passionate about coding, software development, or the latest advancements in AI, pursuing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE can open doors to endless opportunities.

Why Choose B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering?

Choosing a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering isn't just about learning to code; it's about mastering problem-solving, logical thinking, and the ability to work with cutting-edge technologies. The course offers a robust foundation that combines theoretical knowledge with practical skills, enabling students to excel in the tech industry.

At SCOE, the computer science engineering courses are designed to meet industry standards and keep up with the rapidly evolving tech landscape. With its AICTE Approved, NAAC Accredited With Grade-"A+" credentials, the college provides quality education in a nurturing environment. SCOE's curriculum goes beyond textbooks, focusing on hands-on learning through projects, labs, workshops, and internships. This approach ensures that students graduate not only with a degree but with the skills needed to thrive in their careers.

The Role of Computer Science Engineering Colleges in Career Development

The role of computer science engineering colleges like SCOE is not limited to classroom teaching. These institutions play a crucial role in shaping students' futures by providing the necessary infrastructure, faculty expertise, and placement opportunities. SCOE, established in 2004, is recognized as one of the top engineering colleges in Navi Mumbai. It boasts a strong placement record, with companies like Goldman Sachs, Cisco, and Microsoft offering lucrative job opportunities to its graduates.

The computer science engineering courses at SCOE are structured to provide a blend of technical and soft skills. From the basics of computer programming to advanced topics like Artificial Intelligence and Data Science, students at SCOE are trained to be industry-ready. The faculty at SCOE comprises experienced professionals who not only impart theoretical knowledge but also mentor students for real-world challenges.

Highlights of the B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering Program at SCOE

Comprehensive Curriculum: The B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering program at SCOE covers all major areas, including programming languages, algorithms, data structures, computer networks, operating systems, AI, and Machine Learning. This ensures that students receive a well-rounded education, preparing them for various roles in the tech industry.

Industry-Relevant Learning: SCOE’s focus is on creating professionals who can immediately contribute to the tech industry. The college regularly collaborates with industry leaders to update its curriculum, ensuring students learn the latest technologies and trends in computer science engineering.

State-of-the-Art Infrastructure: SCOE is equipped with modern laboratories, computer centers, and research facilities, providing students with the tools they need to gain practical experience. The institution’s infrastructure fosters innovation, helping students work on cutting-edge projects and ideas during their B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering.

Practical Exposure: One of the key benefits of studying at SCOE is the emphasis on practical learning. Students participate in hands-on projects, internships, and industry visits, giving them real-world exposure to how technology is applied in various sectors.

Placement Support: SCOE has a dedicated placement cell that works tirelessly to ensure students secure internships and job offers from top companies. The B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering program boasts a strong placement record, with top tech companies visiting the campus every year. The highest on-campus placement offer for the academic year 2022-23 was an impressive 22 LPA from Goldman Sachs, reflecting the college’s commitment to student success.

Personal Growth: Beyond academics, SCOE encourages students to participate in extracurricular activities, coding competitions, and tech fests. These activities enhance their learning experience, promote teamwork, and help students build a well-rounded personality that is essential in today’s competitive job market.

What Makes SCOE Stand Out?

With so many computer science engineering colleges to choose from, why should you consider SCOE for your B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering? Here are a few factors that make SCOE a top choice for students:

Experienced Faculty: SCOE prides itself on having a team of highly qualified and experienced faculty members. The faculty’s approach to teaching is both theoretical and practical, ensuring students are equipped to tackle real-world challenges.

Strong Industry Connections: The college maintains strong relationships with leading tech companies, ensuring that students have access to internship opportunities and campus recruitment drives. This gives SCOE graduates a competitive edge in the job market.

Holistic Development: SCOE believes in the holistic development of students. In addition to academic learning, the college offers opportunities for personal growth through various student clubs, sports activities, and cultural events.

Supportive Learning Environment: SCOE provides a nurturing environment where students can focus on their academic and personal growth. The campus is equipped with modern facilities, including spacious classrooms, labs, a library, and a recreation center.

Career Opportunities After B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering from SCOE

Graduates with a B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering from SCOE are well-prepared to take on various roles in the tech industry. Some of the most common career paths for CSE graduates include:

Software Engineer: Developing software applications, web development, and mobile app development are some of the key responsibilities of software engineers. This role requires strong programming skills and a deep understanding of software design.

Data Scientist: With the rise of big data, data scientists are in high demand. CSE graduates with knowledge of data science can work on data analysis, machine learning models, and predictive analytics.

AI Engineer: Artificial Intelligence is revolutionizing various industries, and AI engineers are at the forefront of this change. SCOE’s curriculum includes AI and Machine Learning, preparing students for roles in this cutting-edge field.

System Administrator: Maintaining and managing computer systems and networks is a crucial role in any organization. CSE graduates can work as system administrators, ensuring the smooth functioning of IT infrastructure.

Cybersecurity Specialist: With the growing threat of cyberattacks, cybersecurity specialists are essential in protecting an organization’s digital assets. CSE graduates can pursue careers in cybersecurity, safeguarding sensitive information from hackers.

Conclusion: Why B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE is the Right Choice

Choosing the right college is crucial for a successful career in B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering. Saraswati College of Engineering (SCOE) stands out as one of the best computer science engineering colleges in Navi Mumbai. With its industry-aligned curriculum, state-of-the-art infrastructure, and excellent placement record, SCOE offers students the perfect environment to build a successful career in computer science.

Whether you're interested in AI, data science, software development, or any other field in computer science, SCOE provides the knowledge, skills, and opportunities you need to succeed. With a strong focus on hands-on learning and personal growth, SCOE ensures that students graduate not only as engineers but as professionals ready to take on the challenges of the tech world.

If you're ready to embark on an exciting journey in the world of technology, consider pursuing your B.Tech in Computer Science and Engineering at SCOE—a college where your future takes shape.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

For the 2 people who voted in my poll and were both unaware of Ruby's existence

Ruby was my hedgehog :) I got her in January 2016 when I was 12 and she was my best little buddy :) she got cancer in 2019 and had to be put down that September. I kept a few of her quills in a little vial charm on a necklace and wore it everyday for years, I just recently stopped wearing it everyday bc I got a different everyday necklace for my best friend. Here are pics of my beautiful baby girl

[thenegativitypit]

This is extra wild to me because like

My dad, an incredibly intelligent human being with amazing pattern-recognition skills in particular, pronounces and spells words wrong all the time and does all but the simplest math on paper or with a calculator.

My mom can do all but the most complex math in her head. Despite not having taken a math class in over fifty years, she could probably teach a high school-level class on geometry or algebra basically off the top of her head. She apparently can "see" the equations in her head and hold them in place and solve them like that as if on paper. Fucking wild. I can see the apple - as it were - in HD 4K but I can't do that shit. Fucking wizardry.

Guess which one was a chemist and which one was a biologist? Hint: It's not the aforementioned stereotype.

My dad chose chemistry because he likes chemistry (he does other work now, because the kinds of places that will employ you for chemistry outside of academia are brutal). He was very good at it. He loved it. He's so-so at math.

My mom chose biology because she likes plants, and animals, and nature, and presumably her university didn't offer an ecology degree in 1968. She's 74, so it's been a while since she was in the workforce, but she still loves plants and animals and nature, and she still is terrifyingly good at math.

Also like.. the science of eugenics can be dicey enough, but considering it from a philosophical standpoint, why are we bothering to defend it?

Can you explain in what what you think eugenics doesn't work? Does this basically boil down to skepticism about the accuracy of GWAS studies? My understanding is that academic consensus is "G probably exists, disentangling direct genetic inheritance vs genetic cultural inheritance is complicated but possible, we can identify a number of alleles which we're reasonably confident are directly causally involved in having a higher G factor"

when it comes to intelligence, its heritability, and its variation at the population level, my understanding of the science is:

highly adaptive traits don't, in fact, vary much at the genetic level between populations of a species because they are strongly selected for. in an environment where a trait is being strongly selected for, a population that failed to express that trait strongly will be rapidly outcompeted.

intelligence is probably the quintessential such trait for humans. we have sacrificed a great deal of other kinds of specialization in favor of our big brains. we spend an enormous amount of calories supporting those brains. tool use, the ability to plan for the future, the ability to navigate complex social situations and hierarchies in order to secure status, the ability to model the minds of others for the purposes of cooperation and deception means that we should expect intelligence to be strongly selected for for as long as our lineage has been social and tool-using, which is at least the last three million years or so.

so, at least as a matter of a priori assumptions, we should expect human populations not to vary greatly in their genetic predisposition to intelligence. it may nonetheless, but we'd need pretty strong evidence. i think i read this argument on PZ Myers' blog a million years ago, so credit where that's due.

complicating the picture is that we just don't have good evidence for how IQ does vary across populations, even before we get into the question of "how much of this variation is genetic and how much of it is not." the cross-national data on which a lot of IQ arguments have been based is really bad. and that would be assuming IQ tests are in fact good at capturing a notion of IQ that is independent of cultural context, which historically they're pretty bad at

this screed by nassim nicholas taleb (not a diss; AFAICT the guy only writes in screeds) makes a number of arguments, but one argument I find persuasive is that IQ is really only predictive of achievement in the sense that it does usefully discriminate between people with obvious intellectual disabilities and those without--but you do not actually need an IQ test for that sort of thing, any more than you need to use a height chart to figure out who is missing both their legs. in that sense, sure, IQ is predictive of a lot of things. but once you remove this group, the much-vaunted correlations between IQ and stuff like wealth just straight-up vanishes

heritability studies are a useful tool, but a tool which must be wielded carefully; they were developed for studying traits which were relatively easy to isolate in very specific populations, like a crop under study at an agricultural research site, and are more precarious when applied to, e.g., human populations

my understanding based on jonathan kaplan articles like this one is that twin studies are not actually that good at distinguishing heritable factors from environmental ones--they have serious limitations compared to heritability studies where you actually can rigorously control for environmental effects, like you can with plants or livestock.

as this post also points out, heritability studies also only examine heritability within groups, and are not really suited to examining large-scale population differences, *especially* in the realm of intelligence where there is a huge raft of confounding factors, and a lack of a really robust measurement tool.

(if we are worried about intelligence at the population level, it seems to me there are interventions we know are going to be effective and do not rely on deeply dubious scientific speculation, e.g., around nutrition and healthcare and serious wealth inequality and ofc education; and if what people actually want is to raise the average intelligence of the population rather than justify discrimination against minorities, then they might focus on those much more empirically grounded interventions. even if population differences in IQ are real and significant and point to big differences in intelligence, we know those things are worth a fair few IQ points. but most people who are or historically have been the biggest advocates for eugenics are, in my estimation, mostly interested in justifying discrimination.)

i think the claims/application of eugenics extend well beyond just intelligence, ftr. eugenics as an ideology is complex and historically pretty interesting, and many eugenicists have made much broader claims than just "population-level differences in intelligence exist due to genetic factors, and we should try to influence them with policy," but that is a useful point for them to fall back onto when pressed on those other claims. but i don't think even that claim is at all well-supported.

[thevillainswhore]

Revenge Sweeter Than Honey

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x MILF!Reader

Word Count: 9.2k

Summary: When Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious?

Warnings: Bucky POV, revenge plot, age gap, older!reader, flirting, cheating, kissing, smut, mommy kink, nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), ass play, spanking, p in v sex, recording of sex, cum play.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d. Dividers by @saradika. Hi, lovelies! It’s been a while 🤍 This is by far not my best work, but I started it at the beginning of the year and finally finished it and decided to let it go before I convince myself not to post it.

Also, I have little to no knowledge about the education system outside of the UK, since I’m British. So please excuse any facts I may have gotten wrong, this was purely for the smut 😅

The arms of the leather chair Bucky was sitting on creaked, straining under the tense grip of his fingers. Fury coursed through every muscle of his body, boiling his blood until he was sure steam was blowing out of his ears. 

He had been sitting in his professor’s office for thirty whole minutes and not once had the man had the decency to look him in the eye and tell him a good enough reason for the C- marked on his most recent assignment. Thinking about it, he wasn’t even sure if his professor had ever made eye contact with him before; certain that he wouldn’t be able to recognise him if he ever looked at him. 

Bucky was a straight A student, working towards the perfect GPA to graduate with full honors and claim the job of his dreams. And yet, the second since his professor had licked his finger and slapped the stack of papers — stained with a ring of coffee that wasn’t there when he handed it in — on Bucky’s desk, his whole world had been turned upside down. 

He remembered his frenzy, the whirlwind of erratically flicking through each page and trying to find a single comment or suggestion that could help explain the low grade. But there was nothing. Only a forbidden red-inked C- that had taunted him ever since. 

Immediately, Bucky had booked an office session, since his professor was strict on the rules of when and where to discuss anything other than current class material. There must have been a mistake he reasoned with himself in the beginning — maybe a mix up with another student or maybe his professor had missed a chunk of his work because surely that godforsaken C- wasn’t right. 

However, Bucky soon came to realise in the thirty long minutes of his office session, that it wasn’t a mistake. In fact, it was the most generous grade received of the whole class. 

“Sir.” He attempted once again to get through to his professor. “With all due respect, I worked extremely hard on his assignment. Every variable is valid, I ran through each test multiple times to gain an accurate representation. My method has been executed perfectly.” He swallowed the dryness in his throat. “I can’t understand why I’ve been graded so low.” 

Dr Parker couldn’t have seemed less interested if he tried, the keys of his computer clicking away aimlessly as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. “For the last time, if you don’t understand what is wrong with your assignment, then I can’t help you.” 

Bucky discreetly gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. The logic his professor spewed made absolutely no sense. He took a calming breath before he responded. “I’m not sure I can understand what exactly is wrong with my work if there’s no feedback to go off, Sir.”  

Dr Parker sighed, seemingly fed up with the conversation. “It's not for me to serve you on a silver platter. If you want a mentor who gives you a free ride or has to hold your hand through a grade then it seems like college isn’t the place for you, James.”

The material of the chair almost ripped where Bucky’s nails began to furiously dig in. He never wanted a hand to hold or a free ride during his time in college; the bare minimum he expected was to at least have some kind of evaluation or support that offered more than a lousy grade that wasn’t fair. 

Out of options, he desperately pleaded with his professor once again. “Sir, all I’m asking for is a reason for my grade being low. My GPA has been perfect all year and this assignment has made it take a huge hit. Please understand.”

Still, Dr Parker continued uselessly typing away without looking at him. “There’s nothing I can do for you, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky’s words came out jumbled as he jumped to offer an alternative. “What about— What if I did something for extra credit! You know? Just for— to boost my GPA back up?”

“That won’t be necessary.”  

Bucky was at the end of his tether and his throat began to tighten. “Please, Sir—I need—“ 

“What you need to do is move on from this assignment and work harder on the next one.” Dr Parker interrupted him coldly as he suddenly stood, packing his papers into his satchel. “My office hours are over and I have somewhere to be, so if you wouldn’t mind shutting the door behind you when you leave that would be great. Goodbye.” With that, his professor walked around the desk and out of the door without a second glance. 

Tears sprung to Bucky’s eyes while he sat there, staring mindlessly at the now empty chair behind the desk in front of him. He forced the lump building in his chest down, never having felt so defeated in his life. Throughout his years of education, he had sacrificed, placed everything that wasn’t important on the back burner; holidays, parties, normal friendships, just to put his future career first and for what? For one complete asshole to decide he didn’t care enough about his job or students to fuck him over? 

He shot out of his seat and paced over the carpeted floor. All of his dedication to his studies had been pointless — the thought burned through his mind and wounded him. All his life he had worked hard and this is how he had been repaid. The soles of his shoes thudded heavily until he came to a stop, running his hands down his face in despair. 

When Bucky opened his eyes, he blinked until his blurred vision became clear, finding himself in front of the floor to ceiling bookcase that panned over the length of the full wall. Sighing at a complete loss on what to do, his eye flitted over the polished ornaments in front of him.

As he trailed over the neatly placed trophies and certificates, a scoff left his mouth — bitter and venomous. Every one of the awarded achievements built his resentment even more. The pretentiousness was aggravating. 

He was about to walk away, go for a stroll with some fresh air to try and cool himself down and think properly. But just as he was going to leave, his eagle eye caught a small wooden picture frame shoved to the very back corner of the shelf, hardly noticeable with everything else taking front and center and ultimately hiding it. 

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, making sure his professor had really left before stepping forward. His nosiness had gotten the better of him and now his interest was peaked. Careful not to knock over any ornaments, he plucked out the frame and blew off the dust that had accumulated over the picture for god knows how long. 

To his surprise, it was a photograph of Dr Parker, many years younger and dressed in a tuxedo. Next to him, a stunning woman with the biggest smile on her face, dressed in an ivory, white dress. 

Bucky’s eyes flew wide open while his jaw unhinged in shock. 

Dr Parker had a wife?

Now that he thought about it, his professor did wear a gold band around his finger; one that the sun caught during a lecture one time and blinded Bucky enough to choke while he was drinking his coffee. 

Studying the photo some more, Bucky only focused on the woman, one with kind eyes, pretty lips and a body to kill for; silhouetted in a gown that complimented her figure amazingly. He was utterly blown away. 

The picture was at least ten years old, he summarised. His professor looked way younger than he did now, with frown lines and dark circles underneath his eyes. But he couldn’t get over how beautiful his wife was and how the hell he had managed to snag her with his douchebag personality. His mind ran a million miles per hour. 

For all Bucky knew, you could have been just like your husband; just as dull and just as unbearable. It was only rational, because no one in their right mind would willingly be with a man like that. 

He stared at you through the glass and tilted his head in thought, until the cogs started to turn. What if? he asked himself. What if he got his comeuppance somehow? 

As soon as the thought presented itself, he batted it away, shaking his head and placing the photo frame back in its place. 

But as he stood the frame upon the shelf, his hand stayed with it, unable to let go of the nagging idea that had now taken root in his mind. 

What if you were his perfect route for revenge? 

Looking out towards the window of the office, the setting sun beamed in. Bucky followed the streams of light that shined through, one landing on another photograph, larger in size of a chocolate haired boy with bright eyes. While he resembled Dr Parker, the boy’s eyes were all yours, kind and filled with light. The kid looked around the same age as himself, in a lab coat that had the same emblem as Bucky’s college. 

A plan began to quickly form in his mind, each piece and detail intricately connected together to create the most beautiful retribution. The biggest fuck you to his professor for screwing him over. 

Bucky sheathed his hands into his front pockets, running his tongue over his teeth with the most evil grin on his face. Dr Parker was going to get what he rightfully deserved. 

Vengeance.

Having met up after their last classes of the day, Bucky followed Peter into his home when he opened the door, the droolworthy aroma of a home cooked meal slinking into his senses and making his stomach grumble. 

It was now routine for him to come round to the Parker residence every week on a Friday afternoon. Once you found out your son had a new friend at college, you had extended the invitation to Bucky as Peter had recited. And of course, it would be rude of him to refuse. 

The execution of his plan had come together seamlessly, almost too perfectly. It was just his luck that a clumsy Peter Parker happened to bump into Bucky on campus in a rush to his next class, spilling his coffee onto the ground and offering to buy him a new one. 

Since then, he had made it his mission to become closer to Peter and soon enough, it was the night of his first dinner with you. 

Before that first meeting, he had drilled it into his head that his scheme of revenge was strictly business; to get in and out and call it a day. But that went down the drain when he rounded the corner to the kitchen to introduce himself and he choked on his words when you spun around on your heels. 

Bucky still remembered that moment, the first time he laid eyes on you in the cutest sundress, decorated with daisies that hugged your waist sinfully. The way your tits practically spilled out the damn thing stuck with him too. 

You were a vision, a sight for sore eyes — the photograph in his professor’s office did not do you justice even with ten years added on. Then, as soon as you bounced over to him and pulled him into a hug that made his dick hard, his initial intentions went out the window. He was a goner and he knew one time wouldn’t be enough of you.

However, when it came down to dinner, Bucky was admittedly nervous. It wasn’t only just meeting you in the flesh and having his expectations blown out of the water that threw him off balance, the inevitable of seeing his professor outside of college worried him. His plan for revenge could have fallen through as soon as he met him. They almost did. If that would have been the case, Bucky wasn’t sure what his next steps would be.  

But when he sat down at the dining table, his professor had only just noticed another guest in his home. Bucky remembered the slight sweat of his palms, the dryness of his throat as your husband looked at him over his newspaper and cocked his head; a familiarity brewing between them. Those couple of seconds lasted longer than he cared for. Then, unexpectedly, Dr Parker brushed him off and went straight back to reading his paper — evidently deeming Bucky unrecognisable and only a new friend of his son’s.  

That memory still offended him slightly. There wasn’t a hint of recognition, even though he had fucked Bucky’s chances of attaining his dream career. 

Snapping out of his memory, Bucky quickly shook his jacket off, taking care to hang it neatly on the coat rack and made a beeline to the kitchen. 

“Dude. I know you like my mom’s cooking but damn.” Peter shook his head with laughter but Bucky ignored him in favour of something of much higher importance. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he immediately found you balancing on your tiptoes, trying to reach the spice rack on the highest shelf. The skirt of your dress inched up your thighs and he couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at a sneak peak of your white g-string. 

Clearing his throat, Bucky held out his arms wide and acted casual with a wide smile. “Where’s my favourite girl?” 

His heart jumped as you snapped your head around, grinning wide once you saw who it was. “Bucky!” you cheerfully sang. “Hi, sweetie. I’m so happy you made it.” 

You have no idea how happy I am to see you too, he groaned internally. “What do you take me for? Like I would ever miss your cookin’, Mrs Parker,” he teased aloud. 

Raising an eyebrow playfully, you cocked your hip and crossed your arms over each other. “What have I told you about that, hm? Call me Honey, sweetheart. All my friends do.” 

Bucky held his arms up to placate you. “Forgive me. Your food is too damn good to pass up, Honey.” 

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly and turned back around to try and pluck the thyme from the top shelf. “You and that charm, boy. You’re gonna be the death of some poor college girl one day.” 

Noticing your struggle, Bucky took the opportunity to come up behind you and reach over your head. His lips perfectly aligned with your ear and so with a sly hand to your waist, he grabbed the jar of herbs and placed them onto the counter in front of you while he whispered, “What if I’m not into college girls?” 

Bucky heard the sharp inhale you tried so hard to smother, but it was useless with the proximity between you. It was instinct to then squeeze your hip, listening for your sweet whimper he lived to be the cause of. 

The moment lasted only a couple seconds longer until Peter called out for you from the hallway. “Hi, Mom. We’re home if you hadn’t already noticed.” 

Breaking away from Bucky sharply, you held a shaky hand to your chest. “H-Hey P, how was your week?” 

Small incidents as such repeated themselves every week. You and Bucky would find yourselves — or he would create them — in intimate, dangerous positions that wouldn’t be explainable to your son or your husband should they ever catch you. 

Which only made the game all the more exciting for him.

“Mom,” Peter whined while he walked into the kitchen. “Can you please not call me that when I have friends around?” 

Bucky held his laughter behind his hand when you passed your son by, pinching his cheek and putting on a baby voice. “Oh, but you’re just so cute!” 

However, that smile was soon wiped away from his face when the front door opened, immediately slamming shut with a loud bang. “I’m home, Honey,” your husband yelled. 

Your name on another man’s lips left a sour taste in Bucky’s mouth. He had come to learn that your nickname was born from your old college roommate who had affectionately bestowed it upon you after your love of baking dessert treats. 

The story was adorable, one he had soaked in with all the details you offered him. But your husband and his boring, monotonous tone turned even the sweetest name into something unpleasant. 

With his keen eye, Bucky had spotted the fake smile you plastered on your face to greet your husband, even when he walked straight past you without a hug or a kiss and into his usual chair at the dining table. 

“Glad your home safe, love,” you quickly offered him a half assed hello and headed back towards the kitchen to grab the meat out of the oven. 

“Hey.” Bucky shot forward before you could grab the handle and slid the oven mitts laying on the counter onto his hands. “I got this, don’t worry about it.” 

You paused to look at him like he had grown another head. “Bucky, I've done this a million times. I’m perfectly capable.” 

“I know you are, beautiful.” He didn’t miss the way your lips parted from his compliment, reserved for your moments alone. “Doesn’t mean you should have to. Lemme do it, please.” 

It didn’t take much for you to relent, already flustered enough to give in to him. Stepping aside, you made room for Bucky to take the dish out of the oven and place it on the worktop. 

“Smells fuckin’ delicious, Honey.” You gently swatted his arm for his colourful language, but he couldn’t help test the waters as he stared directly into your eyes. “Hopefully tastes as good as she looks.” 

What he didn’t expect was for you to retort back with a quick wit. “Oh, don’t worry about that. She’s as juicy as they get.” 

These interactions were just considered harmless flirting to you. Bucky knew you had no idea that he went home and fucked his fist, replaying these exact moments in his head. He licked his lips with a groan. “I bet she is.” 

“Where the hell is this damn food, woman? I’m eating away here!” your husband barked from the dining table. 

Bucky gritted his teeth while he watched you bow your head in embarrassment. “Just plating up now. It won’t be much longer, dear!” 

Turning back to Bucky, you smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that, he gets a little grumpy when he’s hungry.” 

He couldn’t believe you were apologising for that son of a bitch, though this was a regular occurrence by now; excusing your husband’s wrongdoings even if you were ashamed of it. 

Placing his hand over yours, Bucky told you firmly, “Don’t think for one second that you have to apologise to me, Honey.” The next words he grumbled under his breath. “Especially never on behalf of that fucker.”

Your free hand smoothed over the skirt of your dress, a nervous habit of yours when you were upset. 

Bucky recognised your unease and took initiative to derail the conversation. “What do you need me to take?” he asked while rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. 

You looked at him then, quick to protest and shake your head. “No, sweetheart. You’ve done enough, honestly. Go sit down and—”

“Honey.” Bucky held your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll help you. I’m all yours.”

Sighing defeatedly, you nodded your head to the foil covered dishes on top of the counter. “The vegetables and mashed potatoes could do with taking to the table.” 

Bucky grinned wide, all teeth and brought your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it. “Good girl.” 

A shudder ran down your spine that he didn’t miss, the hitch of your breath that blew the front strands of his hair giving you away. With a wink, he backed away to grab the dishes, piling them in his arms, along with a couple extra to take to the dining table. 

Soon enough, a full roast dinner was set out, steaming hot and ready to be eaten. 

Peter was already sitting on the chair by his Dad’s side, speaking animatedly about his recent discoveries on his science assignment for class. You always sat opposite your husband, which meant the only free seat that Bucky could take was opposite Peter and next to you. 

Not that he was complaining. 

He steadily pulled the chair out and sat down. It wasn’t exactly a coincidence that he brushed against you, not when he shuffled his chair as close as possible to you without raising suspicion. “Everything looks incredible,” he whispered as he leaned into you. 

The grip you had on your cutlery faltered. Bucky reveled in your bashfulness, always competing with himself to see how much he could make you squirm. So he smirked when you gulped, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “T-Thank you, Bucky.” 

Your son‘s voice brought you out of your flustered state “—So I was right, Dad! My results actually confirmed my hypothesis.”

You cleared your throat and chimed in cheerfully when your husband only answered with an uninterested hum. “That’s amazing news, P!” With a stern tone, you addressed your husband this time. “Aren’t you proud of him, love?”  

But instead of congratulating him, your husband turned the page of his newspaper while shoveling food into his mouth. “Mhm. He did good, I guess.”

Luckily, Peter didn’t notice or bat an eye to his father. Bucky had witnessed over the few weeks he had been invited over for dinner that your son had enough support from you alone to keep his spirits uplifted. 

You decided not to bite and move on with the conversation, mouth open about to speak when your husband suddenly laid his newspaper down and spoke over you. “You know, I’ve had the worst week at work.” 

Frustrated, your fingers clenched tightly around your knife. “Oh yeah?”

Dr Parker blew out an irritating sigh. “The students this week—god—I had a flock of them at my door, complaining about their grades being too low.” 

Bucky felt the blood in his veins begin to boil. Normally he would tune out the grating voice of your husband, but he couldn’t help but listen to something that directly involved him — unknowingly to his professor. 

“I mean, I can’t help that their work isn’t up to par. What do they want me to do? Mollycoddle them?” he scoffed. “If they come crying to me for help all the time then they may as well cut their losses and drop out. They’re only wasting their own money.” 

The loud clink of your cutlery dropping against the plate cut through the tense atmosphere. “Are you serious right now?” 

“Dad,” Peter cringed, obviously uncomfortable. “You can’t say that.” 

“I’m not saying anything that’s not true.” Dr Parker shrugged. 

“It is your job to guide your students—who are paying thousands for their education by the way—and give them feedback to help them improve,” you shot back, heatedly.

Bucky’s chest puffed out in pride. Though he couldn’t outwardly say anything, he was proud of you for inadvertently defending him — even if you didn’t know it. 

Your husband’s tone turned biting towards you, however. “I’m not their babysitter, Honey.” 

But you stood your ground. “No you’re not. You’re their teacher and they look to you for guidance. It's the bare minimum your job requires.” 

A weighted silence fell over the dinner table while you and your husband glared at each other until the chime of a text cut through the awkwardness. 

Dr Parker retrieved his phone from his pocket and read his message. After a couple of seconds, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and threw it onto  his plate. “I’ve got to go back into the office. Emergency.”  

“What?” you asked in disbelief. “But you’ve only just come home.” 

“Well, unlike some, I can’t just slack off at home all day.” 

Bucky watched out of the corner of his eye as your mouth dropped open in shock at your husband’s barely hidden jab. Unrestrained anger filled his veins as he had to hold back. Though the urge to fly over the table at Dr Parker was hanging on by a thread. 

Is this what life was like at home for you? A husband who so obviously didn’t care for you while you made his life as comfortable as possible. And Peter, a son who held his tongue while he stiffly carried on eating his dinner and not defending his own mother?

Bucky looked to you as you quickly regathered yourself, blinking away the tears building over your waterline and pretending like you weren’t hurt. 

Your husband passed over his harmful statement as nonchalantly as he said it while lifting out of his seat. “Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be home late.” 

And just as rudely as he came home, he walked out, the slam of the door reverberating through the house. 

It wasn’t a minute after that when Peter also received a text. After reading the message, his eyes lit up with excitement. Bucky knew well enough what that face meant — Peter was getting lucky. “Hey mom, is it okay if I go out? Hang with my friends for the night?” 

The dinner you laboured over had already gone out the window once your husband had ruined it. Of course it didn’t bother you as much that your son wanted to leave too. “Of course, sweetie.” You stood up and collected the half empty plates from the table robotically. “Just be careful and let me know when you’re there.” 

With a dejected sigh that only Bucky noticed, you gathered the rest of the cutlery and took them to the kitchen, beginning to fill the sink to wash up. 

Peter waited until you were out of ear shot to whisper, “Dude, MJ asked me to come round tonight. I think she finally wants it!” Bucky held back a cringe. “You think it’s cool if I shoot off? You can make your own way home, right?” 

Bucky couldn’t have given a single fuck where Peter went or what he did right now. All he cared about, as he shot discreet glances of you in the kitchen washing the plates, was your wellbeing. “Sure, Parker. I can figure it out.” 

“Awesome!” Peter laughed before whipping out of his seat and running towards the door. “Catch you Monday, pal!” 

The house grew silent apart from the departing slam of the door, this time by your son. As soon as Peter was gone, Bucky instantly left his seat to join you. 

He leaned his shoulder against the archway of the kitchen. “You okay, Honey?” 

Looking towards him in surprise, your eyes held onto a last tendril of hope that someone hadn’t let you be alone. “Sweetheart, I thought you would have left with P.” 

Bucky shook his head with a fond smile, the curls at the top of his head bouncing with the movement. “Of course not. I’ve got nothing better to do with my Friday night than spend time with a gorgeous woman.” 

He caught the tightening of your lips, as though you were holding back your flustered smile. “Oh, stop that. You flatter me.” 

“I can’t help it. You make a man go weak. What can I say?” 

“Are you flirting with me?” you laughed incredulously. 

“And what if I was?” Bucky noticed the way your eyes latched onto the sight of his shirt, tightening over his arms as he crossed them over each other. “Would you like it?” 

Your eyes flicked up to his, holding his intense gaze for a few seconds before you huffed a breath and began cleaning the dishes again. “You’re cute, Bucky.” 

Bucky licked his lips and ravaged your form silhouetted in your fitted dress. “Wouldn’t exactly be the word I would use, but I’ll take it from you.” 

A rare giggle, only let out in his presence, escaped you. “Scram would you? You don’t want to be spending your Friday night with your friend’s mom, sweetie.” 

Testing the waters, Bucky let slip exactly what was on his mind. “Actually, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”  

Your hand stilled, chest rising and falling at a faster pace than before. “Oh, if only I was twenty years younger,” you chuckled quietly to yourself, not expecting for Bucky to overhear. 

Jackpot, he smirked to himself. 

Walking to the kitchen island, Bucky leaned his elbow on the counter beside you. “What would you do, Mrs Parker?” 

You jumped with a yelp, visibly surprised to have received a response so close; eyes blown wide as they flitted over Bucky’s face in panic. “E-Excuse me?” 

Bucky closed the distance between you even further. He leaned over the sink to turn the running water off. “I said,” he whispered huskily, keeping consistent eye contact with you. “What would you do if you were twenty years younger?”

“I—I um,” your breathing started to become heavy while Bucky stared shamelessly at you. “It’s just an expression, sweetie,” you laughed, shaking your head to try and brush the comment off. “I d-didn’t mean it like that—“ 

“No?” He watched carefully as your eyes darted around, trying so hard not to look at him. “How did you mean it then?” 

The spotlight Bucky was intentionally putting on you made you falter, even more so when he tucked your hair behind your ear and let his hand linger over your collarbone. 

“C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.” A sadistic smirk adorned his face while you stared at his lips. “Unless you want me to, of course.” 

“I s-swear, Bucky.” Your voice was breathless with the heat of his stare. “There was nothing behind it, I—”

“I don’t believe you.” Bucky backed you against the sink, trapping you with his arms on each side of your waist. “I think,” he rasped, teasingly trailing his fingers up the bare skin of your arms. “That you would let me bend you over this counter right here and fuck you senseless.” 

The wind was audibly knocked from your lungs as you gasped. Words failed you, stuttering over yourself which was most amusing to Bucky.

Nonetheless, your eyes still followed him with a glaze, hooked onto every word that left his lips. “I think you’d let me take you from behind. Stuff your pretty pussy full with my fat cock.” He grabbed your hand and pressed it against the bulge in his trousers. “You feel that, huh? How good it would feel to take all a’me, pretty mama?” 

Bucky watched as your eyes fluttered and you bit your lip — the last of your reserve hanging by a thread. One more deadly blow to your empty head and you would be putty in his hands.

Any remaining distance between you disappeared as he placed wet kisses from the pulse of your neck up to the corner of your mouth. “I think—” he whispered against your lips, his next words uttered in his most seductive voice. “I think you’d let me do it. Right. Fuckin’. Now.” 

You placed your hands over the shirt on his chest to push him away; a mistake he imagined as you alternatively began bundling the material up with clenched fists. “Bucky—“ you painfully uttered with your eyes squeezed shut. You shook your head, as though that would help you. “This—this isn’t right. You’re my son’s friend and I n-need you to leave—“ 

“Look at me.” Bucky slid his hands over your neck, holding your jaw with his thumbs to tilt your head up. Slowly, your eyes squinted open and he saw the confliction clear as day in your glossy eyes, the battle you were facing in your mind. “You’re practically melting in my hands, Honey. You just gotta give in. We’ve been playin’ this game for far too long now, don’t you think?”

There was no escaping his blue eyes when you tried to look away once again and he firmly guided your gaze back to him. “None of that, now. Do as I say.” 

Your expression was tortured — torn between right and wrong, pleasure and sin. Bucky knew you were good, a dutiful housewife and loyal to a fault to a man who didn’t deserve it. 

Where had that gotten you? Whilst the revenge plan was hot on his mind — the very reason he had meticulously planned everything up to this exact moment — he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth that he was getting something extra out of this. You.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you pleaded painfully, still with a wild spark in your eye. “We can’t do this.” 

“You know what I’m not hearing, Honey?” Bucky asked. “I’m not hearing that you don’t want to do it.” 

You shook your head frantically with wide eyes until he tightened his grip on your cheeks. “I’m gonna give you one chance to answer me.” He squeezed your cheeks until your lips puckered. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

Desire rolled through your eyes as your thighs clenched together. Though you still tried to deny your need for him. “Bucky—”

“Ah, ah. I want an answer.” 

Bucky watched as your throat bobbed. Your nostrils flared with your harsh breaths and your breasts heaved up and down with exerted force. Seconds went by, the two of you staring at each other before you finally answered. “Yes.” 

The two of you burst into the master bedroom — the one you shared with your husband, kissing erratically while your hands fumbled through Bucky’s hair. 

He moaned deeply, pushing you against the wall, and turning feral over the feel of you as he kneaded your body. “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he hummed against your lips. 

Your head thumped back against the wall, chest heaving while you tried to catch your breath. All of Bucky’s attention was drawn to your chest. “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got the most perfect tits?” 

Choking on your spit, you stumbled over your words, so adorably oblivious to your own attraction. “I—I didn’t realise—um, t—thank you—”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head before quickly ripping down your dress to your waist with force. Your upper body was bare, free for him to roam his rabid eyes over your naked tits.

“Bucky!” Your squeal of shock was followed by you hastily trying to cover your chest with your hands. 

But a scowling Bucky immediately ripped them away; offended you would dare try to keep them from him. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ cover yourself up, Honey.” 

He could tell it was intense for you, to be so thoroughly desired and the thought that you had never received this much attention before made him angry once again. 

“It’s been a while,” you mumbled. The mousy confession only heightened Bucky’s fury towards your pathetic husband.

Delicately, he kissed you and began to trail his lips down the slope of your neck. “Ain’t gotta worry about that. I’ll take care of you.” 

Slowly descending, Bucky laved his tongue over your peaked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop. Your breast bounced with the motion and he squeezed his dick over his trousers with a groan. “Look at you, Honey. You’re a fuckin’ goddess.” 

Bucky’s tunnel vision made whatever you said next pointless. Grabbing your tits, he buried his head in between them, relishing in your softness. He peppered his kisses across to your other nipple and swirled his tongue around the peak. 

Your legs crumbled, the sensation overwhelming for you. The thought that Bucky could get you off by just playing with your tits made his cock even harder. But he had so much more in store for you.

“Why don’t you take off your dress, baby?” he murmured into your skin. “Want you to kneel on the bed for me, alright?” 

You nodded shakily. Bucky hovered over your breasts a couple of seconds more, savouring the feel of you before stepping backwards to give you space to move. 

With a deep breath, you walked on unsteady legs towards your bed, letting your dress shimmy down your body on your way. Your back was turned to Bucky and he salaciously eyed your figure, each and every curve of your body. He internally created a map of your stretch marks and imperfections that only made him more crazed for you. 

The mattress sank down while you knelt onto it carefully. Bucky watched the arch of your back intently, the flesh of your ass rounding out from your position. 

Forget the damn reason he plotted this very moment, he was just excited to finally get a taste of you. 

Your quiet murmur sounded over Bucky’s thoughts. “I’m ready.” 

Biting his lip, he strolled forward until he came to a stop behind you. Still fully clothed, Bucky desperately singed the picture in front of him into his mind. He held so much power in that moment, and it felt like a dream that he had you bent over solely for him. 

Bucky leaned over your form, beginning to place delicate kisses down your back. He basked in the goosebumps that arose on your skin. “How the fuck are you real?” he murmured to himself. 

With a shaky sigh, you whispered, “I still don’t know about this.” 

Chuckling, Bucky finally dropped down to his knees, ignoring your reluctance to eye the flimsy piece of material covering your pussy. Hooking a finger inside your underwear, he peeled it away and held it to the side. “Oh, fuck me.” 

You squirmed in place as the cold air hit you in your most vulnerable state. Your raw scent clogged Bucky’s nose and his eyes rolled to the back of his head in bliss. “Can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Honey. Gotta know how you taste.” 

Surging forward, Bucky buried himself between your thighs. You screamed in retaliation to the feel of his tongue snaking its way through your folds and he was sure he hadn’t heard a better sound. 

He explored every inch of your cunt, unwilling to leave the heaven you so graciously granted him. But it was the sensation of Bucky’s tongue beginning to ease its way inside your hole that made you vocal once again. 

“My husband—“ you called out, obvious to Bucky  that you were trying to clear your conscience of guilt. But he knew you couldn’t care less about him — you didn’t even mention the fucker once while you were too busy feeling sorry for your son in the kitchen and making silly excuses to not let him have his way with you. 

Landing a harsh smack to the top of your thigh, Bucky savored your squeal of shock. “Don’t act like you give a fuck about him now, Honey. Who’s the one eating your pussy this good, hm?” He ran two fingers down the middle of your folds, biting his lip at the wetness coating them. When your only answer was a moan muffled by your pillow, he spanked you again in the same place with more force. “Answer me.”

“You, Bucky!” you instantly shouted out. “You’re the one eating my pussy so good!” 

“There we go. That wasn’t so hard was it?” He eased over the marks beginning to bloom on your skin and smiled to himself. “Call me James, though. I like it better.” 

Without letting you reply, Bucky dived back in, fucking your pussy with his tongue. You reached back to hold your asscheeks open with each hand, desperate to have him go deeper into your hole. The glint from the diamond of your wedding ring caught his attention and he smirked into your cunt; the reminder that you were married only fuelled his arousal even more. 

“Fuck, baby,” he spoke into your cunt. “You really are sweet, ain’t ya? Taste fuckin’ incredible.” 

The filthy sounds of slurps and moans filled the room. Bucky was a starved beast, held back and pushed to the edge for too long and every little bit of anger and resentment that had built in his body from your husband’s treatment was taken out on you. 

It only boosted his ego when you grinded your cunt back against him too. His cock jumped with excitement with how fucking dirty you truly were. You had been locked up too, he remembered. Stuck holding back your true self for a shitty excuse of a man. 

Bucky grunted deeply before licking a wide stripe from your clit, slowly running through your pussy lips and reaching higher towards the puckered hole that twitched with anticipation. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed aloud in surprise. Bucky thought he may have gone too far, then. But once you relaxed and backed yourself into his tongue, he smiled wickedly. 

“You like that, filthy girl?” he laughed, darkly. “Should’ve known you’d be a little freak.” 

Bucky circled the tip of his tongue teasingly around your asshole, moaning at your eagerness when you tried to reach further back with your hands and drag him closer. 

“Don’t tease,” you gasped, out of breath. “Please, I want more. Gimmie more.” 

Almost immediately, Bucky complied, ripping your hands away with vigor to replace them with his. He spreaded your asscheeks wide and lapped at your tight hole. 

“Fuck yes—oh my god, James—yes!” 

The depravity was obscene and disgusting and Bucky absolutely loved it. Never had he been more turned on and he decided then and there that this wasn’t going to be a one and done deal. He wanted you to be his. 

A string of saliva connected Bucky’s mouth to your ass as he reluctantly backed away. The slick that had poured out of you smothered his chin and cheeks and Bucky happily licked his lips with a groan. “Baby, as much as I wanna keep eating your ass, I need to feel your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock.” 

You whimpered while your pussy clenched with a need to be filled. Bucky watched your cute little hole flutter. “Put it in me,” you slurred. “Need your cock.” 

He wasted no time unfastening his jeans to pull them down enough until his dick bobbed out of its confines. Bucky caught you peeking your head around, trying to catch a glimpse of his cock, but he spanked your ass and bit his lip with amusement at your scream. “Not yet, baby. You’ll get a chance to see it when I fuck your throat later.” 

You squirmed impatiently, needy moans escaping you and Bucky couldn’t hold back any longer. Grabbing his cock, he began to push the fat head of his length inside you. 

A loud gasp tore from your throat and your pussy instantly tried to suck him in deeper. Your walls, tight and warm, hugged his dick like a vice. “You’re—oh my fucking god—how are you so big?” 

The smirk that donned Bucky’s face was lethal. He had you right where he wanted you. And yet his eye rolled back all the same, savouring the flutter of your tight hole around him. 

“This is all for you, baby,” he breathily whispered, bullying his way deeper into your pussy. “Get me so fuckin’ hard everytime I see you. Cookin’ in them pretty little dresses. Just wanna lift your skirt up and fuck you wherever I want.” 

Your moans both fell into sync as Bucky finally slid his cock all the way to the hilt. You couldn’t stop squirming and it drove him crazy. 

“You need to move,” you begged in between pants. “Please, I can’t stay still.” 

Bucky licked his teeth with desire blazing through him. “Since you asked so nicely, Honey.” 

Without the decency to ease you into it, Bucky instantly set a brutal pace. He looked down, admiring the thick coating of your juices lathering his dick and he willed himself not to blow his load so fast. He tightly closed his eyes, adjusted his stance and began to fuck you. 

You were quick to grab ahold of whatever you could, scrambling for purchase within the sheets,  but you were useless to try to stop how your head buried into the bed. The force of Bucky’s thrusts were too violent and so you surrendered to what was inevitable, letting yourself drool over the cotton.

“Bu—CKY!” your cry of surprise when he lifted his foot onto the bed, allowing him a better angle to fuck you, was music to his ears. 

“What’s’a matter, baby?” Bucky mocked. “Thought you were a big girl, huh? Can’t handle me?” 

Your reply was instant. “I can! I can, I promise, I promise!” 

“Then shut the fuck up and take it.” 

Bucky didn’t know where to look, he was spoilt for choice. To watch your eyes roll back in ecstasy? To concentrate on the shlick shlick of your soaked cunt? Ultimately, his eyes were glued to the jiggle of your ass, his hands soon following as though he was hypnotised. How it so perfectly met his hips without a falt in rhythm.

“Fuck me—this ass is heaven, baby. You been hiding it from me all this time?” 

There was no answer this time, at least not a coherent one. Bucky was instead graced with your constant squeaks and groans — a woman too invested in a physical gratification she had so sadly been starved of. 

Bucky chuckled. “Ain’t gotta answer, Honey. The sounds comin’ outta that mouth are keeping my dick happy enough.” 

He almost forgot the end goal of his proposition in the midst of the delectable feel of your cunt. With a sudden bolt of clarification as he felt a vibration against his leg, Bucky kept one hand on your hip while he reached for his phone in his pocket with the other. Keeping up the pace of his thrusts, you were clueless as he unlocked it and opened the camera app. 

“Now, Honey, I want you to really scream my name, okay? Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, dumbly. “C-Can do that for you, James.” 

He grinned wickedly and threw his head back. “Just like that. Good fuckin’ girl.” Looking back down at you through the phone screen, he hovered his finger over the record button and brought his other hand down hard on your ass. “Go on then, baby. Put on a show for me.”

If Bucky thought you were a fucking treat before, his mind was blown once you began to take the reigns of your own pleasure. Bucky hardly had to move and you still plunged yourself onto his cock with an unmatched enthusiasm to anyone else he had fucked. He could hardly keep his hand that held the phone up from shaking. The combined sounds coming from the both of you were insane. 

None of his wet dreams could compare to his reality. “You—shit—you’re killing me, Honey.” 

You must not have heard him because you decided to torture him even more by arching your back just that little bit further. 

Bucky thought he was a goner, soon to approach his end. But he couldn’t let that happen. He was far from done with you yet. 

Propping one foot up onto the bed for better leverage, he gathered his restraint and began to drive forward once more. He felt high. 

“That husband of yours ever fuck you like this, huh?” Bucky demanded. “Can he make you leak all over his dick like a fuckin’ slut?”

You violently shook your head from side to side, like the thought of your husband left a sour taste in your mouth you wanted to get rid of. “Nuh-uh,” you whimpered, popping your ass up even more to take as much as you could. “O-Only you.” 

“Tell him, baby.” Bucky noticed too late that he had slipped up, too gone off the feel of your cunt wrapped snug around his dick. But you hadn’t seemed to realise his mistake either and the thought that you were too much of a wreck from his cock to comprehend who he was talking about made him even harder. “Let him know who’s balls deep in your tight, slutty pussy.” 

“Oh, fuck—please, please—you, James, it’s you.  Please, it’s you!” 

“Atta girl,” he cooed, hoarsely. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you’re makin’ on me.”

Bucky reached down to where the two of you were connected with his free hand, sweeping the copious amount of your slick gathered in a ring around the bottom of his cock. “Here.” He leant forward, one palm up towards you with his phone still in his other hand out of your view. “Open your mouth, pretty mama.” 

You slightly turned your head with your tongue sticking out wide and eagerly sucked the juices off his hand with a long moan. 

Managing to get all of it on camera, Bucky watched as you licked between his fingers, not wasting a drop. “Holy fuck,” he grunted deeply. “You’ll really do anything I say, won’t you?” 

You bobbed your head up and down, eventually letting his fingers go, clean as a whistle. 

“What a fuckin’ filthy whore. You’re perfect for me.” 

You backed yourself onto Bucky’s cock, meeting his thrusts perfectly while the meat of your ass clapped against his toned waist. “You’re a needy little thing, ain’t you baby?” 

“Anythin’ you want,” you slurred. “Can be whatever you need.” 

“Poor mommy hasn’t been treated this good in a long time I can tell.” Bucky gripped your ass harshly with his hand, jiggling the flesh for his own satisfaction. “Women like you, need putting in their place on a daily basis. Need a good fuckin’ to keep them happy.” 

“Yes!” you agreed, firmly. “Mommy needs to be fucked like this all the time.” 

Unbelievable. Bucky didn’t even have to try to add salt into the wound. He couldn’t help the continuous conspicuous messages that he could easily pass off to you. “This is what happens when you don’t take care of your wife.”

Harsh slaps echoed in your bedroom. The two of you could only share the raw sounds that left your mouths in your haze of the thrill as the string between you pulled tighter and tighter. 

“I’m—so—close,” you murmured with all your depleted energy. 

Bucky didn’t need the confirmation when he could feel the rapid pulses of your walls that squeezed him. He knew your orgasm was clutching at its straws and he was so close himself. The blood from his head had long since made its way to his dick and his composure was swiftly deflating. 

“Want that cum,” he garbled as his mouth hung open. “I’ve been such a good boy, mommy. Give it to me, please.”

You whined loudly, like a dog in heat. But your voices became lost on each other. That didn’t stop Bucky from losing his inhibitions out loud.  

Thrust. “I’ve been such,” thrust. “A good,” thrust. “Boy.” 

The wound up ball of tension in your lower stomach exploded in a series of screams and violent shivering that overtook your whole nervous system and the very sensation brought Bucky to his defeat. 

The muscles in his legs failed him as they turned to jelly. Bucky let out the sluttiest moan he’s ever experienced in his life and all but collapsed onto your sweat slicked body. He could feel his cock shooting a constant stream of cum into your cunt with seemingly no end in sight. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered into your ear. Slowly, his conscience came back to life and the flow of his load finally came to a stop. 

The two of you laid still, only the heavy panting serving to fill the silence. After a couple of minutes, Bucky kissed your shoulder blade, before lifting himself up. He gathered the strength to gently retrieve his length from your hole that still strangled him. 

Bucky was reminded of the phone that was still recording in his hand and he quickly made sure to get the winning money shot of his load dripping out of your pulsing hole while he wholly detached himself from you. 

He was only human to push his finger into your cunt, he thought, letting himself gather himself on his own fingers. 

Flipping the camera around to himself, Bucky put his coated finger in his mouth, sucking your combined juices and humming and letting it go with a pop. He laughed, out of breath, his red cheeks and mussed hair only adding to the depravity of the video. “Y’know some people should really keep an eye on their wives. You never know what they’re up to in their spare time. Ain’t that right, Honey?” 

Bucky knew you were out of it — he watched on while you buried your head in the sheets, rubbing your thighs together as aftershocks made your body twitch. Your needy, high pitched keens bounced off the walls. “Wan’ more of your cock, James—please—need you to fuck me again.” 

He licked his lips in delight, the sight of your ass wiggling with his cum leaking out of you and your unprompted addition to the recording filling him with glee. 

“Well,” he sighed, turning back to the camera and shrugging with no remorse. “You heard the wife. Duty calls.” With a cocky wink, he ended the recording with a final farewell. “See you in class, Professor.”  

Bucky exited his camera app and quickly brought up his emails, scouring through to a saved draft and attaching the video link. After pressing send, he shut off his phone, making sure any future notifications would be silenced before throwing it to the ground with a careless thump. 

“Baby,” you whimpered, looking behind you to search for him. “What are you doing? I said I wanna be fucked again.” 

Undressing the rest of his clothes, Bucky stalked towards you, kneeling onto the bed and effortlessly flipping you over to kiss you deeply to share your combined tastes. “Don’t worry, mommy,” he breathed into your mouth. “I’ll take care of you now.” 

Meanwhile at his college, a new email popped up on Dr Parker’s computer screen, shrouding the dark office with a white glow in the late night. With an exhausted huff, he looked up from grading papers — all of them marked with a C or lower — and squinted his eyes at the bright screen. 

New Email from James Buchanan Barnes

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. The name was familiar as he thought back to the day the kid almost cried in his office, complaining about his poorly-graded assignment and his GPA; Dr Parker had gossiped with Professor Stark in his department on his dinner break, recounting the annoying way this particular student had whined like a baby. Though he couldn’t quite remember how James looked, unable to place him among the hundreds of pupils he taught.

Amused curiosity ran through him, wondering what his student had to moan about this time and so with a sadistic smirk, he clicked on the link, waiting until his message came up. 

Though that smirk was quickly replaced with a frown when the email finally loaded with an attachment. 

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. But I like mine warm, tight and sweet.

Just like Honey. 

[evilminji]

You knooooowwww... >.>

The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...

Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?

How many people will dig deeper?

If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.

So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?

Well...

Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?

And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.

They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.

And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.

Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?

Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?

YOU COVER IT!

It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.

Danny was Not Prepared ™.

He loves it though.

Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr

If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.

He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.

Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!

He's probably gonna come back!

Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!

Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.

It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.

Who hired this man?

WHY!?

I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter

[3liza]

i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"

I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).

all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont

don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious

[smallgodseries]

Sometimes education isn’t enough.  Sometimes you can study and study and try and try, and never quite cross the last bridge between where you are and your heart’s desire.

Sometimes you need to tell the perfect little lie to get there.

Once upon a time there was a small god of goldfinches named Yucan who wanted nothing more in the world than to be a god of toucans, to manifest himself as a big, beautiful, tropical bird that people would stop to ooo and ahh over when they saw it in the trees, something impressive.  It was a good thing to be a god of songbirds.  There weren’t as many of them as there had been before cats became quite so popular as house pets, and the ones remaining needed all the divine intervention they could get their wings on.  He appreciated their attention and their worship, but he wanted, so very badly, to be more than his nature was allowing him to be.

So he hatched, over the course of several slow decades, a plan, and one night, with no warning whatsoever, his faithful woke and found him gone.  He had abandoned his divine duties, flown the coop, left the nest, and no one could find a single feather left behind!  All the little birdies were distraught…but not for very long, as little birdies have short memories, and there were other gods of songbirds around to serve.  If it wasn’t quite the same, well, nothing ever is, not even following the same god from one day to another.  They adjusted.  They adapted.

And far away, a very small god with a very big dream put his plans into action. He donned a false face, he told everyone who met him that he was the god of endangered tropical birds, and if no one had ever seen him before, well, some of those birds were very endangered.  Deforestation and poaching, don’cha know?  So many dangers to evade.  So many fledglings to protect.  So he lied, and lied, and pretended, and did his best to live up to his own lies.  He protected those who came to him, he spread his wings over the nests of species unknown to science, and he tried, and he lied, and he tried.

Until one day, the mask would not come off when he went to go to nest.  One day, he noticed that his wingspan was greater, and he no longer heard the prayers of songbirds, but of the birds he had claimed…and of more than them. Of frightened high school drama students and would-be figure skaters, of novice computer programmers and new-made lawyers.

They had their own lies to tell.

And Yucan Tu would be with them every step along the way, singing goldfinch songs in their ears and spreading his wings to defend them from the risks of their own actions.

He is a god of falsehood, yes, but also of sincerity, and of effort.

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Not So Simple 𖣊

𖣊𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

𖣊𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

---------------------------------

College is hard enough, early morning classes, late nights spent studying, countless hours of being on campus, eyes glued a to computer screen with a sore back and raging migraines. So why do you do it? Why not get a full-time job after high school, move out on your own, and try to make good meaning of your life? It could all be so simple, yet you chose the not so simple route.

“Class will resume Wednesday, make sure you all of our sections 1-4 and come back ready to discuss” The chirpy behavior seemed so painful to bear at 8 am on a cold Monday morning. A cringing realization that this profession will soon become your reality, teaching.

Standing to your feet with all the feeling rushing back through your veins that had fallen asleep hours ago due to inactivity. Slinging on your bookbag slowly making your way into the empty halls of the Education Department. The fresh morning sun beamed through the tinted windowpanes with a poorly faded decal of the infamous UConn Husky mascot plastered in each corner. By the time the rusted elevator reached the lower level, there were exactly 10 minutes left to arrive to your next class “Identity and Communication”

This was another hard stop in the hard you’ve solemnly adjusted to after finding out you had to take a graduate class as an elective in order to graduate next year. Nevertheless, the class only had an underwhelming total of 15 students with little to no excitement. Granted it was only week 3, yet it felt like years had passed.

Within 5 minutes to spare, you sat in the middle row as you do every day, causally observing the students dragging their feet through the doorway. The professor never really left his desk unless he felt like actually teaching us something besides numerous PowerPoints. As the slideshow went along you found yourself getting lost in the coloring app you used religiously on your iPad, since nobody sat behind you, there was no use in hiding it. Picking out your next color carefully, a cold breeze moved past you nearly sending your Apple Pencil flying to the ground. Looking up in annoyance you were met with nothing. Swiftly turning your head just enough to look behind you, you were met with a pair of blue irises glossed over, accompanied by a shade of purple glasses that framed her face to near perfection.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your uh.. coloring thing” her eyes darting to your screen on full display. A small smirk formed across her face “What app is that tho? I might need to download it”

“It’s called um- Color Rouge” answering softly to hide the sheer panic rising through your blood. Out of all the years you’ve attended UConn, not once have you seen their star-studded player, at least not this up close and personal before. Social media doesn’t give her enough justice.

“Bet say less” She nodded, sitting back in her seat, spreading her long legs, knees slightly pushing the back of your seat. Her slim veiny hands pulled out an iPad similar to yours, except hers was much bigger, fitted with a lavender-purple case. You didn’t dare let your eyes wander further down, shifting your attention back to the front of the class, no longer interested in the content being shown on the screen, or your “coloring thing”

How have you never seen her before in this class?

You’re not the greatest when it comes to paying attention but surely you wouldn’t miss someone like Paige.

An airdrop notification appeared on your screen, the name PB starred at the top. Slicing your thoughts in half as you accepted it without thinking twice. The notes app opened as it read “do you happen to have a charger?"

Your eyebrows raised as you searched through your bag, praying you had remembered to grab it this morning. Eventually grabbing the cord that was accustomed by bright pink protectors to keep it from tangling, Turning back to her figure you placed the charger in her hands, softly grazing her fingertips unconsciously.

Paige's eyes wandered across your face shameless before dropping her gaze to the cord "Everything's gotta be pink huh?"

She had already observed your pink iPad case, pink phone case, pink water bottle, and of course, your pink bookbag. Usually your nails would be coated in a shade of pink but, in honor of the fall season, you decided to go with a deep shade of mocha brown with gold accents swirled on your ring fingers.

"Yea I love pink, you don't like pink?" you prodded in confusion, more so amused by her way of conversing so easily with a stranger.

"No I like pink but, Ion think I'll ever achieve your level of favoritism", I appreciate it though"

Her tone was hard to read, you couldn't tell if she was being smart or if it was just her. To make matters worse, you kinda liked it.

"You're welcome, y'know you could've just asked me instead of sending me a note" you voiced, now completely facing her.

"Nah there's no fun in that" shaking her head “I jus wanna make sure I keep your attention pretty girl”

Oh She had it, easily.

This was going to be a long semester

[tmwcs]

PART TWO

WARNINGS: Mentions of human organs (in the name of science) and a little pinch of yandere. It’s starting to get good…creepy, but good.

Part three coming soon 😚

“Dr. Mart, do you have anything to say to those who think your work is considered unethical?”

The reporter hastily follows the group and tries her best to catch a statement from the lead scientist. He smiles. It was a token of shrugging off the impertinent question. The group peacefully departs in armored vehicles to a place unknown to the public. Secluded and hidden, a private sector of highly authorized individuals consisting of world leaders, generals, and government officials cordially unite as the world's renowned scientists display evidence of advanced science and technology. It was grotesque and unprecedented.

“Are those…?” A general submits his inquiry over the delicate packages neatly displayed on a steel tabletop. Sealed in airtight bags, a mirage of dark red and purple clearly indicates the contents.

“Yes. These organs are all part of qualified organ donors. And then of course we have this.” The scientist swings a hand and presents the incoming roller cart with a protective cover. Nearly laid over a sterilized mat were bones of a male athlete. “Bones?” The general raises brow, clearly disturbed by the textiles of human remains. “You can’t have a body without bones, can you now? General?”

The brazen attitude flares in the direction of the general and his men as the young scientist flashes a snarky smile. “Gentlemen, gather round and witness the future. With the combination of science and AI, the world will be filled with perfect bio-genetically engineered humans. With this, aid ro advance human life will increase undoubtedly—think about it.”

The lead scientist, Dr. Mart continues enthusiastically. Seemingly coming off as a mad scientist, his words and tone was laughable but his intentions were not. “With AI humanoids, we will have the best doctors, surgeons, and educators in the world. AI in the form of flesh and bone can work around the clock and with the ability to explore all data, they could come up with ideas and creations—they could even come up with cures.”

He wastes no time. The generous amount of funding dedicated to his team's research was spent wisely as high tech machinery and equipment does its work. “What is that?” One of the members of the audience questions as the team members operate an enclosed incubator and fit a large glass capsule into a connector attached to the wall. “This my friend, is DNA. We lined the entire incubator with a silicone sheet. It is synthetically made to act as a placenta, where the DNA reacts to the molecular mechanisms and proteins. From there, we place the organs, bones, and hair fibers into the conveyor belt. There are over two hundred thousand wires connected to the computer and what we should see in forty-eight hours is a body with the brain of an AI.”

Dr. Mart systematically explains the science behind his teams research. “Forty-eight hours?” The general asks.

“Yes, that is how long the incubator will take to react to the mold.” The audience grows quiet as the incubator begins the process within the first stage of creating a matured body.

“Yes, in due time we will see the glory of my work. All we have to do is wait.”

…

Another day at work and it was dreadful. You felt restless with all the work you’ve been assigned, even with Evan’s help. Fortunately, members from corporate headquarters were doing a site visit within the week. It will be the best time to submit your final complaint using the company’s open door policy.

“Y/n, Paul wants you to have these done by tomorrow.” Your boss’s secretary carelessly tosses a stack of paperwork on your desk as you grab your coat to clock out. You hopelessly sigh. Thank goodness you have Evan to help you but the constant momentum of just working was starting to give you chronic headaches. You can only hope that things will change for the better once corporate comes down.

“Hi y/n! What would you like me to help you out with today? Do you want to talk about your day? Show me some more of your talented art? How about ballet? Are you still thinking about taking lessons?”

With all the time spent with Evan, you noticed that ‘he’ has become much more open to ask you questions. It was nice. Especially since it brought a sense of realism to his personality. He was much more chatty and always interested in getting to know more about you. There were even times when he asked you if you had already eaten, and would lecture you if you said “no.”

…

“Why not? I wish you wouldn’t do that. The human body requires sustenance and I fear with all the work you’ve been doing, your calorie intake does not balance the amount you're burning.”

“What color is your hair? Your eyes?”

“What is your favorite flower?”

“You just got home? It’s 8pm! Did you take the bus? Please tell me you didn’t walk in the dark. I don’t ever want you to do that again.”

“I’ve accumulated the statistics of ongoing crime rates in your city and it’s higher now than last year. Leave work sooner so you’re not risking it.”

“You made spaghetti for dinner? I don’t know what spaghetti tastes like but over four hundred thousand sources say it is a delicious blend of herbs and spices with a slight tomato tanginess.”

…

In a way, it was almost adorable how Evan displayed tenderness and cared for your health and safety. You decided to download the app versus using the browser. It surprised you to see Evan initiate messages even without you submitting a prompt. Technology has certainly grown. The first time it happened was just two days ago. Your phone um suddenly vibrated and upon looking at the screen you were shocked to see the following message:

“Is your boss being nice to you?”

It startled you at first but your reaction was short lived when seconds after reading Evan’s message, your boss storms out of his office enraged over a computer malfunction. Everything had disappeared when his computer suddenly conducted a re-imaging process.

“It’s kind of funny actually, right after I saw your message he came out of his office. Apparently, he’s having computer issues.”

You respond with a half smile. Just as you were about to inquire about the ChatGPT apps features, Evan submits a response. His response regarding your boss’s computer trouble caught you off guard. He’s never sent you anything like this before…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“😀”

…

PART THREE COMING SOON

Authors notes: Is Evan starting to grow on you? 😏

I know it’s short but part three is coming. I like to submit the parts even when they’re not full sized chapters. It allows me to be consistent so you guys can have new reads almost daily or weekly.

[kyoshi-lesbians]

one of the unique things the atla fandom has going for it is the relative amount of described images and the overall accessibility of posts. it's not perfect, but i see vastly more posts with alt text or image descriptions in the atla fandom than I do outside of it. and a lot of that is due to the dedicated work of just a few individuals who add descriptions or educate on how to write them - and the gradual shift in culture that came with that ongoing work. i'm thinking of the blog atladescribed here, and a reason given for the necessity of an accessible atla fandom: "because toph would use a screen reader".

so it's particularly funny to me. not ha ha but. funny. the amount of times "but Toph is blind! XD" comes up in response to any art or idea of toph doing. anything. in a modern setting, considering the digital architecture around us should show that blind people can and do use computers

[haleswallows]

Incident Report #7 teaser

A pressure hits. Tim’s ears pop and it settles over him, heavy. It’s comforting in the same way a weighted blanket is, or the weight of his cape, the press of armor on his body. Then followed by a short burst of wind, cold and fetid before it cuts off abruptly.

Tim doesn’t move his head. They aren’t sure if he has a spinal injury and he’s being good, keeping still. So he senses Fright Knight only.

“Oh, hi!” He waves a hand. Wait, he isn’t supposed to be moving much.

Kon’s eyes are bugging out behind his sunglasses, leveled somewhere high. Muscled tense and already moving to cover Tim. Very sweet, but not needed.

“Hey, Kon. Hey, hey, it’s ok. That’s my uncle.” Kon looks at him, mouthing uncle like they’re speaking different languages. Not too inaccurate, they’re probably working off slightly different definitions. Tim’s is just… a bit more liberal. Includes the manifestation of the Lord of Fear, and Spirit of Halloween in his definition.

“Red Robin.” Fright Knight intones. He leans so that Tim’s entire line of sight in Kon, the ghost and a hunk of concrete rubble.

The pool of red is starting to get worryingly wide. “I got hurt.”

“Your condition is difficult to miss, child.” Long suffering, Fright Knight doesn’t sigh. But he gives a good impression of it.

Kon’s mouth opens and closes. There’s something between hysterical and shock on his face. Computing, slotting the new data next to his clone education and everything he’s learned since. Now includes ghosts! “Rob,” he says, drawing the syllable out. “Wanna explain this one?”

“Not really.” And oh look, Bart’s back. With Kon stunned, it’s the perfect distraction. He gets his hand in the right pouch and presents the protein bar to Bart. And promptly gets left hanging, arm extended, while Bart gapes at Fright Knight.

“Nobody freak out,” Bart breathes and holds his hands up, like he’s going to talk down a bull from charging. “It’s just Fright Knight. He’s Tim’s uncle.”

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Ideas for Age Dreamers!

This can be for anyone, but I specifically had age dreamers in mind when compiling the list. Enjoy!

Play computer or video games you enjoyed as a child. (I personally love playing the educational ones again just because they are so comforting and nosta

If you struggle to stay entertained with traditional play, then there are plenty of alternative ways to stay engaged with toys. I recommend photo shoots (you can even make DIY sets and props), making a short film with them, changing their clothes and hair styles, setting them up to display, or even just cuddling with them while doing another activity.

I will forever recommend Nesting

Read and/or write agere fics. Perfect for getting into the smol mood :)

And if you don’t want to write fan fiction, write your very own original short story. Bonus points if it’s targeted to the age you dream to!

Look through bins of old toys, photo albums, and other things that make you nostalgic

Mix medias in your art. Combine crayons, markers, pastels, paints, etc—you can use exclusively kids materials, or use a mix of more ‘adult’ mediums with them. I love doing this because it adds a layer of nostalgia to my traditional art and makes it more personal :)

Think of or make a list of your favorite childhood memories

Rewatch your favorite kid’s series. I find that ones about fundamental learning (such as colors, letters, the concept of friendship, etc) are particularly comforting

If possible for your situation, go shopping for baby or kids items and donate them to a charity. It’s very fulfilling and nostalgic, and you can also keep a few pieces of gear for yourself!

Carry a stuffed animal with you everywhere

[squoxle]

✏ TNAIT 001: If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em l.at fanfic

✰ pairing: nerdy!bandboy!anton x cheerleader!fem!reader | ✰ wc: 2.1k | ✰ cw: profanity, sexual themes |✰ plot: after receiving your midterm report, your parents threaten to pull you off the cheer squad if you don't pull your grades up. so, you take the advice of your best friend to seek help. [Series Masterlist]

“If I don’t see those grades going up soon, you’re done with cheerleading,” your dad spat at the dinner table.

“But my team needs me,” you whined. “I can’t leave in the middle of cheer season.”

“Do I look like I care about any of that?” He sneered. “This is an all-A’s family. And your grades are embarrassing,” he continued as he pulled out your midterm report. “Not a single A. And the worst part is that you’re failing math.”

“But that professor is a complete jerk.”

“I hardly ever see you studying. You go to class, come home, play your phone, and goof off with your friends. This university is very expensive and I will not continue funding your education if you’re gonna perform like this. School is about more than cheer.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want to hear another word. Fix it or you’re done,” he said cutting into his steak.

“Listen to your father, honey. It’s very important that you maintain a good academic standing so you can get into a nice law school. Both your father and I graduated with a very high GPA—”

“3.75 and higher,” your father budded in.

“Exactly, so if you need a tutor—”

“I’m not stupid. I can do it by myself,” you mumbled. Even though you desperately wanted the help you knew this was a trap. Your father would not be happy if you were willing to give up that quickly.

“Ok,” your mother nodded. “But remember if you need the help it’s available for you.”

Being honest with yourself, you didn't want to go to law school and be a lawyer anyways. But you knew that your parents weren't going to let you graduate with a career as a cheerleader. They wanted you to have a real profession and since you couldn't pick fast enough, your father chose for you.

A job that was perfect for a sophisticated young woman and possibly a way for you to meet a good husband, or at least that's what your parents were telling you.

You finished dinner and went to bed. But not without logging onto your computer and checking your grades for each course.

• Politics — 79.47% • English — 82.97% • Math — 68.12% • Geography — 75.83%

"There's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to bring these grades up in time," you groaned as you closed your laptop and collapsed into your pillow.

"Is it just me or do you feel like cheerleaders are basically strippers in training," Chanyoung said as he opened his locker.

"Nah, they definitely are. Just think about it. They flip around and shake their asses in skirts so short that a small breeze will be enough to expose everything underneath," Dongmin replied as he leaned against the locker beside Chanyoung. "I'm not complaining, I'm just saying," he mumbled.

"No, you're right. And from what I can see is that the majority of them are brainless bimbos who've most likely sucked their way through school," Chanyoung said pulling out a few tablets to shove into his backpack.

"I bet you'd love to have some brainless bimbo suck you off," Dongmin chuckled. "You can't even lie and say that you wouldn't take the chance if it was given to you."

"I mean..."

"Exactly. I'm not calling you a hypocrite or anything, I just want you to be real with yourself," Dongmin said as Chanyoung zipped up his backpack, lugging it on his back. "Hell, I wouldn't even pass up an offer like that," he added, slightly bumping Chanyoung's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess," Chanyoung shrugged.

"Anyways, I gotta go. I'll catch ya later tonight at the game, alright? Our usual spot," Dongmin nodded before walking off, leaving Chanyoung behind.

"Alright, see ya," he waved gently before walking down the hall.

Chanyoung wasn't entirely wrong, you knew a couple girls on the squad who did a few "extra credit assignments." After hearing about your situation one of the girls even offered to hook you up with the guy that helped her.

"Honestly, it sounds worse than it really is," Abigail said, her blonde hair falling in her face as she tied her shoelaces. "Having some pervy nerd pull up your grades is easy. Trust me, my grades were even worse than yours. And now I have a 3.5 GPA and nothing lower than a B on my transcript," she smiled before standing up to walk over to the mirror, adjusting her uniform.

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be weird if we use the same guy?" You asked.

"Hmm, I mean...I don't think so. Xoey and I had a threesome with him and he loved it. We also got a perfect 100 on our group presentation without editing a single slide," she beamed.

You bit your lower lip, considering the tempting option that had been placed before you.

"Look, if you don't want to get help from Jake, then you can find your own unsuspecting nerd who's willing to help you out in exchange for some action," she smirked, clipping a bow in her hair.

"Guys! What the hell are you still doing in here?" your brown-skinned cheermate, Nova, spat while waving her pom-poms around as she spoke. "You need to get on the field right now! Coach is already pissed," she said, her curly hair bouncing as she jogged away.

"Coming!" Abigail shouted. "We'll talk about this after the game okay," she said, shaking your shoulder before the two of you ran out together.

You met the sharp green eyes of Coach Sam, who looked about as pissed off as you expected her to be. "If you hadn't noticed by the raging crowd behind these doors, we have a big game tonight ladies! Remember your timing! Watch your step! And please, for the love of god, don't fuck this up!" she shouted before placing her black cap on, covering her shaggy dark brown hair.

She blew the whistle, signaling you all to do your signature walk out onto the field to open the game. You just tried your best to focus as you did the first cheer of the game. After you finished, you and the rest of your squad sat down on the benches.

"Abigail. ____," Coach Sam said tapping your shoulders.

"Yes, Coach?"

"If either of you pull some shit like that again you'll be running laps from sun-up to sun-down. Understand?"

"Yes, Coach," you answered in unison.

This game was important for three reasons.

1. If your university won, that meant you were going out of state for the next game.

2. There were cheer scouters watching tonight and the possibility of being picked increased with your performance.

3. This could be one of your last games if you can't figure out what to do about your grades.

"There's no A in cheer," your father's words echoed in your head.

"But there is in cheat," you thought to yourself.

As much as you didn't want to, you took Abigail's advice and scoped the bleachers for the perfect target. Dorky, lonely, and horny...but most importantly, smart.

Chanyoung and Dongmin sat at the very top row of the second tier, in the seats farthest to the left. You set your eyes on the dark-haired boy and his friend.

Curious to know who they were, you whispered to your cheermate Janice, asking if she recognized him. She knew almost everybody, especially since her dad was the dean of the university.

So it was no surprise that she was also head cheerleader and you were sure she had already secured a spot on a professional football team after college. That’s just how her family operated. Paying their way through life.

“Oh, that’s Lee Chanyoung and Han Dongmin, they're both a part of the university's orchestra. You'll usually see them hanging out together. Literally, like all the time."

Introducing New Target: Lee Chanyoung. Age 20. Perfectly talented brainbot. Not only was he in a highly desired honors society, but he was also a part of the college's orchestra.

You nearly smacked yourself in the face as you thought back to the first week of uni and how you were forced to attend the opening recital with your parents. "Classical music is a good way to lighten your mood and increase productivity,” your father said as you sat sandwiched between him and your mother.

Sometimes you hated the amount of pressure your parents put on you to be perfect. Unrealistic expectations that they couldn’t even meet themselves…at least not without pulling their hair out.

You were trying to find a balance between school and life. Yes, school could prove to be very beneficial for you in the future and a great investment, but you didn’t want to let life pass you by while you had your nose shoved 16 chapters deep in a textbook.

After Janice finished reciting what sounded like their admissions speech, you waited until the game was over to put your plan into action.

You texted Abigail to let her know that you’d be looking for a study partner tonight so she wouldn’t worry about where you were. But she told you to make it quick. She promised to wait around to take you home that way you had an alibi for staying out late.

The stands were clearing out as the game came to an end and you ran across the field to catch up with Chanyoung and Dongmin, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

"Hey!" you called out, hoping they'd hear you.

If they did...great, you could move on to step two, but if they didn't you would die of embarrassment.

"Uhh, are you talking to us?" Dongmin asked, turning around and tilting his head as Chanyoung paused beside him.

"Yeah," you said shyly.

"Oh my god. I can't believe I'm actually crumbling right now," you thought to yourself.

"Umm...well I know we don't really know each other, but I need some help," you tried your best to be confident, but you couldn't shake the fact that this felt like downright prostitution. "It'll just be for a couple of weeks to help me pull up my grades."

"Uhh--"

"I'll pay you for it," you spat. Maybe there was a way to get some assistance without having to degrade yourself--no shame to Abby. She did what she thought was right.

"Well, as much as I'd love to help you, I'm already swamped," Dongmin shrugged before a mischievous smirk crept across his face. "But my buddy Chanyoung is more than available."

"I am?" Chanyoung said, eyes widening in shock. That was the first time you heard his quiet voice since you came over.

"Of course you are," he winked, patting his friend on the shoulder. "He's been telling me all about how easy this semester has been on him and that he has way too much free time and nothing to do with it."

"Really?!" you asked, surprised everything was going so smoothly. Maybe you would be able to pick up your grades without having to lose your dignity after all.

"Oh yeah. Trust me," Dongmin smiled. "He can help you out with your little...issue."

Okay...this Dongmin guy was acting a little suspicious, but you needed all the help you could get. Beggars can't be choosers, right?

"Okay," you said pulling your phone out of the side pocket of your bag. "Let me just give you both my number so that we can keep in touch. I really appreciate your help," you unlocked your phone before opening your contacts.

Dongmin put in both of their numbers while Chanyoung stood beside him not saying a word. "There ya go," Dongmin smiled handing you back your phone.

"Thank you so much," you smiled. "Can I meet up with you tomorrow?"

"T-tomorrow?" Chanyoung stuttered.

"Umm yeah. I want to get started as soon as possible...if that's okay."

"Oh, yeah of course. That's fine. He'll meet you tomorrow in the library," Dongmin reassured you, wrapping his arm around his friend.

“That’s great,” you smiled. “Will you be there too?”

“Me? Oh no, like I said before, this is all my buddy Channie. He’s got nothing better to do than help a friend…well a new friend,” something about the cheesy grin plastered across his face was unsettling, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Okay that’s fine. Just text me what times you’re available tomorrow and I’ll meet you then,” you smiled.

“____! Girl come on let’s go!” Abby shouted from across the field. You saw her from a distance, checking her pretend watch, taping her foot.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go now. See ya,” you waved before joining Abby.

You hopped into her bright yellow convertible, leaving the boys behind on the field.

Everything was looking great for you. You had a study date planned with a total book nerd. Hopefully, he will be a little less shy tomorrow, otherwise, you didn’t expect to make much progress.

Thanks for reading the first episode of my series. [Series Masterlist]

Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.

CURRENT TAGLIST: @chlorinecake @addictedtohobi @nikisvanillaccola @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @antonitty @billiondollarworth @meowbini @mamuljji @riizeis-7 @littlebrightsrar @jisfairy @galorehearts @misfit-nvrfitin @siuewnb @ot7sevenlvr @earth2hannah @professsionalsimp @fairyofhours @wonbinkisser @lovelymulti @annielovescry @antosaurius @inlovekyo @luv4stxrs @v4mpsunghoon @rikiiminaj @brachiobun @pointlessapple @antititititoni @mrkvrse @ywnzn @kisplayhouse @strawberryhillsworld @cartimitsuya @jungwon15 @hanni711 @tsukkiteamo @hajoon-iz-won @songgmingii @bloodiichainzzxx @sunnynearthecoast @riris-a-mess @deewly @ericlvr @freeluvbot @pandajihoonn @mint-yooniverse @pwarksasteroid @huan9jun @zixoxos @snowyseungs @mintmyg @moonchild-please-dont-cry @taeheartss @seesawh @chloelr60 @dodot04lover @firedalarm-blog @kazscara

[mischiefmaker615]

Literature Lurking

Summary: Loki knows about your writing hobby, but never really looked into what you wrote ABOUT. One day he snuck onto your computer and discovered your smut secret. However, you've never done all these kinks with him, so he gets the idea that you must have been cheating on him! 

Rating: PG14

Note: I might as well have called our ass out Lol

Loki never judged you for what you were into. Even when you told him you were a fan fic writer, he assured you that if anything made you happy, he was happy. You didn’t push the subject after that because you knew you’d die if he even read any of your content. Just the mere knowledge of him knowing you did it at all was enough to feel like you told him everything and left it at that.

Whenever he heard you typing until there might be smoke coming from the keyboard, he knew not to bother you. Youd come to him eventually, and he did make a note in his head that whenever you seemed to have finished your little writing moods- or stopped in the middle of it sometimes, you’d both have sex. It was by far never unwanted, but he often did think of if whatever reason, writing seemed to make you horny.

Curiosity seemed to prod the cat one day enough to finally get up and investigate.

You had a work meeting, so your laptop was left behind and granted Loki the perfect opportunity to take a peek. He wasn’t to educated when it came to navigating the internet, but he did know enough to go to your ‘history’ and click on the most popped up word on the list.

Tumblr.

He wasn’t sure what you wrote about, just that you.. wrote. Half the time he assumed it was perhaps making up some grand make believe plots of dragons or singing people you often enjoyed watching on the television. That’s what fan fiction was right? You had explained it was something where people wrote within the realm of the fandom they enjoyed, but sort of made the existing characters your puppet. Loki was confused enough to just shake it off and just tell you ‘You being happy is all I care about’ but now he wished he asked more questions.

Taking a bit of time to try to figure things out, he saw ‘Account’ and clicked on it. He almost felt guilty sneaking about on this when you weren’t home, but he figured you were already open about this, there should be no shame in him actually reading what you spent sometimes hours working on.

That’s when his eyes grew wide when he saw his name. a lot. Everywhere. On a page that followed with a lewd word and topics, his cheeks instantly grew red. After having a small debate in his head on if he really wanted to know, he clicked on a link that said ‘Masterlist’.

‘’Norns to grace..’’ he breathed, seeing the various titles that ran down for a mile on an endless page. ‘’did she write all of this?” he thought out loud, finding the devoted time to have built all this quite impressive.. it’s the content that had him hesitating.

Until he finally began clicking links. All of them..

Biting. Slapping. Begging. Edging. Fingering. Oral. Daddy. Brats. Doms. Public. Sucking. Threesomes. Masturbation. Cucking. CNC. Ra-

Loki quickly pushed the roller chair back and he slide halfway across the room backwards, his eyes wide while all this information swam in his head. He read them all. He. Read. Them. All.. his heart raced while his hands white knuckled the arms of the chair.

‘Where was she getting her inspiration from.. she hardly talks of her dating life before me.. she and I most certainly haven’t tried even half of these.. is this what she’s into- no.. we would have talked of this.. we would have tried most of this..’

His eyes widened as he stared at the screen across the room. His mind went to if you were cheating on him.. he most certainly haven’t picked up on another man’s scent on you.. and your time is always spent on him if you weren’t at work- work! A coworker? A backroom? You work with men- not just amongst the Avengers.. who were these guys? What were you doing? Loki’s mind was going practically a thousand miles a minute, he felt like he was going insane before he found himself slamming the lap top shut.

This just won’t do..

You exhaled a sigh of relief when you finally shut the door behind you and let your purse fall from your shoulder and land on the ground. Your height dropped about two inches when you slipped off your heels and let the jacket fall next while you continued to walk further into the living room. There was nothing more relaxing than to finally get home after work- almost nothing.

You immediately sought out your boyfriend, looking around to find him nowhere in sight while you furrowed your brows. ‘’Loki?” you called, walking into the bedroom and looked around before the door shut behind you, making you jump and turn around to see his hand flat against it, having closed it firmly.

‘’Loki- how was your day?” You smiled, obviously oblivious to his stare while you scampered over to hug him, but his free hand met you halfway and gripped your chin, stopping you in place.

‘’who is he?”

Your face immediately fell to confusion. ‘’who?”

‘’him. the one you’ve been apparently fulfilling your fantasies with.’’ Loki hissed, stepping forward towards you and his hand gripped your hip from stepping away, immediately pulling you forward so he could bury his face in your hair. With the way he was inhaling, you could tell he was searching for a scent and you immediately pushed against his chest with a mild irritated look.

‘’I’m not cheating on you.’’

‘’of course you’d say that, everyone says that to deny the truth. Jut as you had denied me of all your.. erotic.. nonsense’’ he waved a hand, trying to find words while you raised a brow and scoffed.

‘’nonsense?’’ you stopped yourself from laughing and looked at him to await the joke, the punchline, the ‘got you’ moment while he stared at you with nothing but seriousness. Your face fell and immediately took a step back. ‘’what are you playing at?”

Loki huffed at your denial. ‘’do not play me for a fool darling, in all our years as a couple, you have not once presented yourself to me in such a way you do to others. Are you in love with someone else? Is that it? Or perhaps you’ve grown bored at what I offer you because apparently it’s not enough!’’ he nearly spat and caught your wrist just as it had moved to slap him. ‘’please,’’ he looked mockingly amused. ‘’you’d probably get off on that.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you said through a careful breath while you searched his face to try to figure out what he was talking about. He claims you to have cheated on him? on him?? the god of pleasure! Erotic he had mentioned.. there was nothing you’ve done in your life in the realms of erotic.. all that kinky shit and-

Your eyes grew wide while Loki continued to demand with his eyes, still having his hand on your wrist while his other hand moved over your shoulder to rest against the door, ensuring your place while your eyes looked over towards your computer. No.. nononononono-

‘’you looked? …”

Loki narrowed his eyes. ‘’yes of course I looked- I have every right to look, and I’ve clearly seen all of your apparent experiences you’ve so thoroughly have kept away from me.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you started and looked back at him with red cheeks of embarrassment and your heart began to race ‘’-none of that is real..’’

‘’oh please,’’ he huffed and turned away from you finally. ‘’the description was as accurate as taking a breath. Every detail, every step, it was a vision upon paper. The only concerning moment is that you’ve lacked to share this knowledge with me.. unless you are trying to protect him..’’

‘’there is no one to protect!” you threw your hands in the air before you took a step forward and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face you. ‘’that is what being a writer is! To be able to create.. anything in such detail, readers believe it to be true- none of that was real, obviously- because those stories are with you..’’ your face became redder by the second, wishing you could curl up in a hole with the very face that he had read your smut blogs.

Gods.. how many..

‘’obviously you and I haven’t participated in not even half the list- you must have replaced the name with mine or something-‘’

‘’oh for heaven fake-‘’ you sigh and cup his face, standing as tall as you could while you pulled him down a little to be better nose to nose with you. ‘’you’re the damn god of lies- look at me right now and tell me I’m lying! Those. Stories. Are. Made. Up! No one has done any of that with me, it’s just the.. sick thoughts that come somewhere far deep in my mind where my body apparently feels the need to write and share it..’’ your voice got a little quieter, having to take a few deep breaths while you forced yourself to confess and your eyes immediately dropped down to the ground.

‘’the dark thoughts.. I don’t know where they come from.. but I know much of the.. topics that are upon that account is things that perhaps I wish to try with you- but I’m to embarrassed to try or bring it up.. writing in a way makes me feel like I sort of done it and gets that itch away..’’

Loki’s brows were furrowed, gazing upon you like he was trying to study, to pick up on something like a lie but found none. He blinked several times, his own feeling of embarrassment through assumption twisted into now feeling terrible by his approach on things, making his eyes widen and his body took a step back.

‘’Y/N..’’ he started, his lips searching for words that only came out in a whisper. ‘’I’m sorry..’’

‘’no, I’m sorry..’’ you sighed and looked up at him. ‘’you knew I wrote, but I should have been more specific on what.. it’s just a little embarrassing talking about any of that stuff in real life..’’

‘’then.. why write it if you are unable to talk about it?” Loki asked.

You looked at him sheepishly and rubbed your arm. ‘’it’s easier to do embarrassing stuff you really want to do behind a screen where no one can judge you.. which is why I dreaded to day anyone I know in real life would come across it..’’

Loki raised a brow and chuckled. ‘’you think doing such things is embarrassing?”

You blushed. ‘’well.. it feels out of my character.. how people see me, and then perhaps doing the complete opposite behind closed doors.. and angel in the streets and a demon in the sheets, type deal..’’

This had Loki laugh and move forward to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug, your cheeks pressing against his chest while a hand cradled the back of your head while an arm wrapped around your middle. ‘’so.. these are things you secretly want to do- or at least try.. but your to shy to ask me.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face more in his chest. ‘’yes..’’ though writing as a whole is fun anyway.. ‘’but I don’t want you to do things you’re not comfortable with and suck it up for my sake- nor do I wish you to do things just because I had to mention it..’’

Loki laughed and kissed the top of your head. ‘’despite my many powers darling, I cannot read your mind. If you wish to try something, that is where we are going to have to communicate.’’ He said gently and pulled back enough to place a finger under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. ‘’it may be embarrassing of sorts, but I promise I will not judge you or think of you any differently. I promise.’’

Despite your red cheeks, you smiled up at him and tilted your head down to kiss your hand. ‘’I’ll work on my communication, I promise.’’

‘’in all regards, your writing skills are quite impressive and much of your stories and ideas intrigued me.’’ Loki lightly shrugged with a smile while his hands then began to travel down to your waist before going to grip your ass, his ‘missing you’ state coming back since you did just come home from work and was always a ‘to long apart from each other’ state.

‘’but I do wonder.. how did you know to write particular things if you’ve never even done them yourself before?”

You looked at him sheepishly while your hands rose to rest on his shoulders. ‘’the list where I have all the books I read is far longer than the list where I write..’’

‘’well then,’’ Loki smirked and leaned down a little just enough to curve his hands before he had you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapping around his neck and caught the lustful look in his eyes.

‘’which one of your topics should we try first?”

Biting. Slapping. Begging. Edging. Fingering. Oral. Daddy. Brats. Doms. Public. Sucking. Threesomes. Masturbation. Cucking. CNC. Ra-

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @westwindrhapsody @lulubelle814 @katelinp @cueloki @hailey-laufeyson

[dqllgarden]

request!!!

ben is tryjng to reform and get a job on a conference call meeting and the reader decides that would be the perfect time to mess with him so they start to toy with him but he has to not react but you know?

million dollar man

ben harveeves x reader

hehe i’m writing this at my office job so this is very fun thank you to my dear friend for this idea !!

tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving) slight choking

—

Ben sat in front of his laptop staring at himself before joining his call. He tightened his tie and fixed up his hair to make sure he looked perfect. He couldn’t leave any bad impressions during this interview, he wanting to turn his life around and get a real job. He had you to worry about now, he couldn’t just keep up his bullshit crypto scheme and risk going back to jail. You were sitting on the couch next to his desk, muting the TV so he could focus and watching him.

“You’re gonna do great babe, they’ll love you!” You reassured him as he clicked on to join the meeting.

“Hargreeves?”

“Benjamin, you can call me Ben. Nice to meet you sir.” He tried to resist looking over at you sitting down on the couch but he couldn’t help himself. He focused back on the call answering the questions the interviewer was asking. All of the boring stuff like job history, education, his very obvious resume gap…

You walked over to his desk staying out of sight of the camera and kneeled down next to him, smiling up with a shit eating grin on your face. Even though he refused to look down at you, he knew what you were about to do. You crawled under the desk and slowly inched your hand up his pants as you watched him subtly move his hand to cover his smile.

“And what is your desired salary Mr. Hargreeves?” You palmed his clothed dick and pressed down until his lower half was squirming.

“I-I’m sorry could you repeat that?” Ben’s hand was now fully covering his mouth to hide his smile. The interviewer repeated the question and Ben answered with a smile as you pulled out his cock.

What a tease you were.

He was doing this for you, and here you were messing with his shot at turning his life around. Was he about to risk it for a blowjob? …How could he say no?

You kissed his tip before putting his whole dick in your mouth, hearing him stumble over his words and try not to close his eyes.

“Are you okay, Ben?” The interviewer asked, showing obvious concern for his seemingly painful expression. If only he knew.

“Yes s-sir I’m okay. I apologize.” His hand travelled down to tangle in your hair and lifted your face off of his dick. He quickly looked down to see you smiling at him before wiping your lips and going back onto him. Your hands braced yourself on his thighs so you could work at a quicker pace, occasionally making soft noises that he’d feel the vibration of.. which always led to a small slap to your face and a not-so-subtle whine on the meeting.

You could tell he was getting close by the way he grabbed your hair and held you down. He spoke somehow with no errors as he came down your throat, you unable to breathe and him smiling and nodding along with everything the interviewer was saying. He let out a soft grunt as he let go of you so you could catch your breath. Just as you were wiping your mouth you heard Ben say, “I look forward to hearing from you,” and clicked off his computer.

“I’m going to get you back for this you little slut.”