#my nonniebugs

[mrsurahara]

okay so i think you might've awoken something in me when you said abby would let you ride her forearms.

i feel like the angle might be a bit weird but it could definitely work.

like maybe shes sitting down holding her arm out (resting it on a pillow so her shoulder doesn't tired) while you're kneeling next to her on the couch, grinding from her elbow to a little bit above her wrist.

maybe she's gripping the pillow because her arm is soaking wet and you're leaning on her shoulder, moaning into her neck.

I literally cannot stop thinking about it omfg

ooooh, i love your point of view!

when i wrote the hc i was thinking more along these lines:

abby lying on her back one arm resting behind her head while the other was splayed out across the other side of the bed. you, completely naked, straddling her veiny arm with your hands resting on your thighs. she's most definitely coaching you through it. telling you when to speed up, when to slow down. her arm is soaked with your essence as she denies you of an orgasm for the umpteenth time. abby watches you, her irises reduced to thin rings from the dilation of her pupils.

"abs, p-please. i wan-na cum," you whined. you legs shook on either side of her muscular limb. she ignored you, paying you no attention.

"keep going, i didn't tell you to stop." you don't even have it in you to disobey her, so desperate for whatever pleasure she'll allow.

"look at me," she demanded. both of your lust clouded eyes bet as you continued to roll your hips. "tell me how bad you want it."

"wan' it so so bad, baby, please," you choked out. You could feel the tightening behind your navel and all you wanted was the one thing abby was denying you.

"mm, i don't kno—"

"abby pleeeease," you cried, "i'll do anything you want, jus' lemme cum."

a smirk played on abby's lips as she watched you. taking her time giving you an answer. she knows you know better. know better than to cum without permission. the pretty faces and noises you made along with your begging made her give in.

"go ahead, babe. be good and cum all over my arm."

your hips began to move faster until they found the perfect pace. the coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter until you found your release. your juices spilling all over abby's forearm and onto the sheets beneath you. you braced yourself on abby's chest as you worked yourself through your orgasm. attempting to crawl into abby's lap, she stopped you with her free hand and nodded to her arm.

"nope, put that pretty mouth to use and clean up your mess."

...so yea... that's where my head is at...

[howdoyousleep3]

Miss k I have two dueling thoughts to get through Monday:

One is that Bucky and Steve (3dwd version) have just finished some gardening (bc obviously 3dwd would need fresh veggies for summer recipes, and Bucky absolutely loves planting flowers for bees) when a thunderstorm rolls in. So they do what they do every time it rains into the night: order the greasiest pizza they can get with lots of cheese sticks and Bucky making brownies, play Just Dance while they wait for said pizza, and then cuddle up for dinner while watching Animal Planet (who can resist baby giraffes? Not these two)

The other is that at the same time, Senator Steve gets a sex machine that can fuck into intern Bucky while he finishes paperwork late at the office, hardly anyone on their side of the building. Bucky is on the couch while the toy opens him up, and listening to his whimpers is getting the Senator less and less focused on the bill proposal he’s writing up. Eventually he goes over to turn it off, scoops Bucky up, and holds him against the wall as he fucks his baby good. And that’s the first fuck of the evening, certainly not the last, because Bucky can see the size of the plug the Senator is going to put in him later

Gotdayum, nonniebug. SHIT. Those are two absolutely scrumptious thoughts that hopefully helped you get through Monday and are most definitely helping me get through my Tuesday! 😫😍💖

[wendimydarling]

Hello again, 29 yr old virgin again. I should have phrased my question a little more concisely as "If you are a virgin and use a dildo, should you see a gyno soon after or wait for your yearly exam?" Instead, I rambled on because of nerves opening up to such an intimate question. (1/2)

I have used my fingers to help warm me up, but once I have the toy in after a while, I dry up, and it's no longer as pleasant. I have never tried lube before. I am so overwhelmed by the different brands and the fluctuating reviews that I give up in the end. Do you have any recommendations? (2/2)Thank you for your kind words <3

Ah babe, you’re totally fine! It can be overwhelming for sure. ♥️

If it’s just play on your own with fingers, I recommend coconut oil. It’s cheap, it’s natural, and even healthy for your skin. It’s an oil though and could break down certain materials in your toy like plastic or silicone, so check your toy’s manufacturer recommendations (should be in the box it came in or on their website). It’s also not safe with condoms, so be wary there too.

The only time I ever had an issue with drying out was after my kids were born; there were a few months where it took my body to adjust back to normal. We would usually end up trying to work harder for the arousal or we’d end play early, but when it’s solo play I know neither of those options sound fun.

Anyone out there have a lube they recommend for our Nonniebug here? I don’t have any other recommendations as I’ve never used anything else!

[howdoyousleep3]

I just want to say it is amazing the amount of content you provide! I only post on ao3 once every few months and never post on tumblr (and I am fine with that lol) but I never want you to feel like you are not providing because you are! And top tier content at that! Never feel obligated to overwork yourself because you could be giving crumbs and that would still be reasonable❤️

...how do y'all know exactly what to say to me right when I need to hear it!! 😭 I was just kinda sad earlier thinking about how it's be so long since I've put out any writing and how excited and nervous I am to share so many stories this month! A reminder like this is precious and one I tuck close to my heart. I need to remind myself that I'm no longer going as hard as I have in the past and that's it's quality, not quantity. It is for sure an adjustment. Thank you thank you thank you, nonniebug. I really needed to hear this. 💖

[howdoyousleep3]

mama K! here’s to a happy pride!!! sorry if this is sad, was in my feels a little bit today. (they have a happy ending of course)

He sits by the window, his head turned towards the streets rolling by, the weight on his shoulders carried by a red bus. He’s has a rough day, and he knows the time on this bus won’t help him clear his head. In the past being alone with his thoughts hasn’t always been the best idea. When he gets to his apartment his husband will help him figure it out. He could make all those thoughts, all those insecurities, go away with just a smile. It’s still crazy to think that he’s allowed to call the man he’s spending the rest of his life his husband.

He lets his thoughts wander against his better judgment. His life doesn’t feel normal. The normal he knows is hiding in closets, no pun intended, and hoping beyond God that no one finds him. Even the ones who would accept him, because good intentions only get you so far when it comes to things like this. It hurt that it was even an option that people wouldn’t accept him for something as trivial as his sexuality. The thought of people back then finding out about him now makes him sick. Years later. He thought once he moved away their words would leave, let him be the one to bring himself for , not other people. He thought he could make himself forget.

But they didn't know, or at least they didn’t care, that their hate filled words would impact him more than the people who said them. He doubt they even remembered what they said to him. Hurting people for being different than their cookie-cutter ideas was so normal for them that he was just a point from a long line of young people with scars.

That wasnt even the hardest part. He could deal with people saying things to try and change him, he knew it wasn’t going to work. One of the hardest things to remember is people fighting on his television, deciding whether he could love the man he wanted. As if it was their choice to begin with, as if they had any right to chose who he’s allowed to get married to.

He lets out a long sigh and focuses on the song playing in his headphones. It used to be his mother’s favorite, and he can’t seem to let it go. It could still be her favorite, he wouldn’t know. They haven’t spoken in five years. Maybe it’s been six, he tried to tell himself but the truth is he knows exactly how long. Call him sentimental. Call him weak. Its nothing he hasn’t told himself.

He remembers everything from the day he told his parents no matter how hard he tried to forget. He was wearing a hoodie that he threw out a few months later, not being able to stand it. It was blue and it has pink flowers on the sleeves. He still knows that he was wearing glasses because they were fogged up from the tears he shed. The tears his parents caused him to shed. Jesus, his parents.

The hardest part had been going into the conversation, knowing that when it ended he wouldn’t have a family anymore. He was going to be alone. He had been so fucking scared. Before he had the conversation with his parents he had already packed his bags. He was certain he knew how it was going to go, and he had been right. All men are created equal, until they decide to love each other, right?

For all the bad times that his memories recall, there are the good ones too. Having his boyfriend at the time hold him all night whenever his thoughts caught up with him. Getting kneed in the face by his husband when the announcement came out that they could be with each other legally. His husband was so excited that he forgot about his head resting in his lap and he stood up, apologizing with profound words. He can’t remember another time when he felt such pure, unadulterated joy. He had waited for his whole life, longer, to be able to call the man holding his face with gentle hands and tear streaked cheeks his husband.

But you can’t have strong positive emotions without a crash. Later that week he felt such resentment towards all the people who had halted the process, stopping him from something they had no right to control. He got proposed to that very same year, his husband down on one knee with shaking hands, his face framed by falling autumn leaves. Seeing his husband, his husband, waiting at the end of a long aisle, hastily wiping away tears and giving him a smile that held in it the rest of their lives together. They had both been dressed in white, mocking the angels. Not that he was one to believe that his love was a sin.

He’s almost at his stop, and then he can go home into a warm embrace, a loving smile, and a person, a man, he can lean on.

He wished he could say he never wanted to be anyone different. He couldn’t. There were times, there still are times, when he wants to see his little sister who never had a chance to stop anything that happened those years ago. He misses singing along to The Beach Boys in the back of his moms’ minivan. He misses making fun of his dad for his favorite movie, Clueless. (He hasn’t watched that in years) He knows he can never have that again, but that was their choice. Not his. He has to remember that.

He’s tried to stop blaming himself for who he is. Blaming God is easier, but he knows there’s no one to blame. He loves who he loves. It’s one of the underlying facts of human existence, it’s not something he can change. They can say it’s not real, that he’s being dramatic, he’s making it up, but if his sexuality isn’t real then it doesn’t that mean no one’s is? There’s a natural balance in life, he’s learned. He can look up the definition of love all he wants, he can ask everyone he knows what love means, but there isn’t one definition, isn’t one true meaning of love. It’s whatever he wants it to be. It’s what he has with is husband, his love.

He walks into his front door. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it’s warm. Comforting. He knows that when he looks up he’ll see a smiling face sitting on a mantle.

A soft “How was your day?” greets him. He can tell from the voice that his partner knows it was a rough day. It’s okay, they both have them. They’ll cry, they’ll hold each other close. An endless cycle of pain and joy.

But that’s what life is. They can’t let it consume them, no matter how much it hurts. If they let themselves go down there’s no chance of getting back up.

Deeply unhappy thoughts breed joyful reunions with death.

😭😭😭 I'm so happy you have shared this with us. Happy endings always. How personal and reflective and deeply emotional. Thank you, nonniebug. I lub you so much. 💖

[howdoyousleep3]

I think you’re going to be an amazing parent, who maintains a healthy online presence without exploiting her family to do it, and that’s fucking awesome. ❤️

(Also you are the only reason I read ABO!stucky.)

🥺 Oh my goodness, this is the sweetest! This totally caught me off guard, heh. That is fucking awesome and I hope you're right. This has been on my mind a lot recently. ❤️ Thank you, nonniebug.

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