Sarah is offering Worked Up as a webinar on May 23rd, 2026 9AM PDT. Info + tickets here.
She is also going to be running four two-day workshops in four U.S. cities in June and July 2026. Info + tickets here.
Sarah Stremming
Some dogs are just “full of bees”–meaning they are buzzing with energy. What does sensory integration therapy have to do with dogs? It turns out, kind of a lot. If your dog is a little bit too much providing them with sensory outlets–especially the outlets they tend to seek themselves–is not only necessary for progress but vital for good welfare. Learn all about releasing the bees in this episode.
Further reading:
Sensory Project: What is Sensory Integration Therapy?
making you give each bullet a kiss as I load the magazine of my favorite sidearm. hollowpoints, fleshrippers-- they'll make you some real loose holes if that's what I want, if I get bored of how tight your ass is. make out with the tip of each one. kiss it wet-- like it's the tip of my cock. suck it a little bit. make sure you give each one the attention it deserves--
you don't know which one is going to end you <3
i had 2 look up hollowpoints but um fucckkk, ive only ever thought about this fleetingly, buy you’ve me got so wet imagining this and thinking about someone firing blanks inside me 🥵
im actually pretty new right now to anal, so i would be really tight. id loooove to show you what my mouth can do.
Prompt: Bucky just wants to ask Reader out but is working his way up to it.
A/N: I love him.
MasterList
Bucky walked along the apartment building hallway.
He knew the floor, knew the number on their door and even knew that the neighbour was a sweet old woman who offered him boiled sweets once for helping her with her shopping. He knew which floorboard would creak under his feet, and he knew that this was a waste of time.
How many times had he come here and stood, hand raised to knock, only to let it fall to his side and walk out?
He had wanted to ask Y/N out for months.
Wiping his suddenly sweaty palm on his dark jeans, Bucky stretched his neck from side to side. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet a little and mentally preparing himself to knock - that’s all he needed to do. Yet, each time he failed the simple task and walked away.
What if Y/N didn’t like him that way?
What if they didn’t want to see him again?
What if he ruined their friendship with his stupid crush?
He felt his courage draining out of him, trickling down long legs and out through his shoes onto the faded, threadbare carpet of the hallway. A sound at the end of the hallway made his head jerk toward it, and he froze. His eyes meeting Y/N’s as they placed their groceries on the floor so that they could search their pockets for a key. “Hey, Bucky!” Their smile made the corners of his lips twitch, and he gave them a small wave, “As you guessed, I wasn’t in. Gimme a sec, and I’ll get the door open.”
Too late to run away.
Bucky took a deep inhale through his nostrils and held it for a second before slowly releasing it. “I’ll give you a hand…” He counted the steps from their door to where they stood - thirty - and picked up the groceries before following obediently. The lights flickered on soon after he had kicked the door shut gently, his eyes aching for a moment as they adjusted, and then Y/N was taking their bags from him, chatting away like they always did with him. At some point, they offered him a drink.
Bucky froze.
His mind all white noise and full of cottonwool.
All he had to do was say yes or no. It wasn’t hard, it wasn’t something he had never done before, but right now, his mind and his mouth were disconnected. His heart began to hammer, and his eyes darted to the door as if running away would somehow make this less awkward.
“Bucky?” His name sounded muffled, and when something touched his face, he reared back so quickly he stumbled backwards into the freezer door. Y/N didn’t follow him; his pupils were blown, his hands had balled into fists, and his chest was heaving as small gasps forced themselves out of him. “Bucky,” Y/N called gently, “It’s just me - I’m not going to hurt you.”
How did someone so strong, enough so that he could twist metal, become so fragile and frightened?
This wasn’t the first time Y/N had seen him on the brink of a panic attack. They approached him with their hand outstretched, careful of his flinch when their fingertips touched his chest and their palm carefully laid itself flat. His heart hammered against his ribcage beneath their hand, and, ever so slowly, they got close enough that their bodies nearly touched. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Bucky… That’s it…” His breath hitched as he forced it to change. To deepen and become more controlled. Colour slowly returned to his face and his expression relaxed with each passing moment.
“Sorry.” He murmured and moved from the freezer door; the heat from his body had created a quickly evaporating condensation on the metal, and he moved Y/N to the side. Gaze on the door and feet less clumsy as he made for it hastily.
A hand curled around his wrist, catching on his watch and making him stop. Bucky looked back at the other and gave them a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m sorry, I just, uh… I guess… I guess I zoned out and made it weird.”
“You didn’t make it weird, Bucky.” Y/N didn’t let go; they knew that if he left, he wouldn’t come back, and they knew he would never stand outside their door, his hand raised, trying to pluck up the courage to knock. There had been many times they wanted to open the door, times when watching his shadow through the gap at the bottom of the door called to them - begged them to make the decision for him and let him come in.
“What got you worked up? Was it something I said? Something in my apartment that triggered a memory?”
Bucky shook his head, “I… I guess I worked myself up. Your place is, its nice. It’s a nice, uh, nice… place.” He was fumbling, stammering like a nervous kid and making a bigger fool of himself than he ever wanted them to see. “Shit. I just wanted to ask you out, and I screwed it up.” His hand carded through his hair, and blue eyes flicked from them to the door, pulling at their grip a little.
If he had really wanted to go, he could have freed himself quickly.
“Okay.”
His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned, “Okay? Okay, what?”
“Okay. I’d love to go out with you, Bucky.” Y/N’s hand slid down from his wrist, and they linked their fingers with his, “Just next time your heart is beating that fast because of me… I’d like it to be when we’re both naked.”
Bucky let out a surprised laugh, his hand moving from his hair to cover his mouth as he stifled it, “Least let me take you dancing first.”
*Vibrates with annoyance in “Americans who are obsessed with the fact that they had a “Scattish” ancestor from “Scatland” about two hundred years ago or something*
