“you can go a little stupid if you want to” MA’AM. excuse me, MA’AM. i am literally sitting here full body damn near vibrating i am going to take off like a rocket ship. that one line of text has changed the trajectory of my entire life.
I remember writing that line a while ago and tbh, I can't even remember who I wrote it for but I really want to come back and talk about it a little bit more bc 😵💫
"It's okay, don't worry. You can go a little stupid if you want to." Bucky would've sounded entirely sincere if it hadn't been for the slight mocking edge in his tone.
You weren't even sure that you could find it in yourself to care though. Not when you're sucking gently on the two thick fingers he's slipped in your mouth to muffle your moans.
"Good girl, get them nice and wet for me. You're such a needy mess. I didn't think you'd break this easily." He chuckles a little, pressing his fingers deeper into your mouth.
It almost feels odd to need this but your fluttering cunt reminds you that you do. There's something freeing in giving your body over to someone you can trust to take care of it. For a couple of hours, any worries and stresses are all suspended; nothing outside of the bedroom matters. You have the freedom to feel overwhelming pleasure, grounded in the knowledge that, for now, there's no expectation on you. You don't need to think. You can do as you're told and take the rewards that stem from being obedient.
"B-Bucky." Your soft plea sounds pathetic around the fingers in your mouth but hearing his name like that makes him throb.
There's no rush though. You have all the time in the world and he intends to take you apart quite slowly tonight. He wants to savour every gasp and kiss every inch of your skin. His own need is coming second, for the time being. For now, the only need of his own that he's focused on is his need to feel you come apart on his tongue. To steal orgasms from you with his fingers and to hear you begging him for his cock. That's what good girls do.
He's reminded that you're the best girl when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and trails them slowly down your bare body, letting them find their way home.
God, you're soaked. His breath catches in his throat because he knows you're going to feel incredible around his dick. He needs to feel that tight, wet squeeze while you beg him to cum inside you but as soon as that thought has crossed his mind, it's gone again because you're rolling your hips against his fingers.
You're desperate and he can't let you stay that way. Not when you're unapologetically lost in him. He's not going to make you beg. Not just yet. "Good girl, sit still for me, sweetheart. Don't squirm." He slides both fingers into you with no resistance, appreciating the slick glide.
"O-oh god." You whine, feeling him curl his fingers inside you, brushing gently against the sensitive spot that leaves you gasping.
"You're making such a mess. Fuck, you're so wet." It's impossible to miss the soft, slick sounds his fingers cause and while they're obscene, they're incredibly hot.
Before you've even really noticed, Bucky has shuffled down the bed, settling between your spread thighs. "I need to taste you." His fingers never cease, his lips trailing a path up from your knee before his plump lips encase your clit.
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in addition to that, remember how i found out my ex has a kid through his whatsapp icon??
(the kicker is, i only looked at it because my fucking grandma told me on the phone: oh you know how i kept his number, because I always thought...* well looking at his new picture I might just delete it now...)
well at christmas i wanted to send myself some pictures i took with my mum's phone (with permission of course) and what do i see? she TEXTED HIM MERRY CHRISTMAS. we broke up over three years ago! ma'am this man didn't even send you a fucking condolence card when dad died! he does NOT get a merry christmas!!
so I told her that. she was a little snappy about it, which annoyed me because sorry, this is -my- old heart break, I'm not texting your exes either?? (or my ex's parents for that matter) but then! she said: but I DO wonder what kid he's holding there...
and I was like mum, what the heck, that's obviously HIS kid, what other child would that be
and she was SO CONFUSED. MOTHER! WHAT
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Sometimes hating is cathartic. Being a hater sometimes is within the natural range of emotions and it’s never good to repress those.
Take a moment to be a hater, and once it’s out of your system, reflect on the things you hated on. What did you hate on? Why did you hate on it? What about it made you hate on it? Is it something that is genuinely bad (i.e nazis) and deserves to be hated on? Or is the hating from personal preference, such as liking/disliking broccoli? Is the hating constructive toward your own emotional state?
Accept that hating is part of the Feelings soup.
Im just hating on some family members and my current state of being
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