I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.
Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy
But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.
You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.
"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.
"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.
There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.
Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.
He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.
"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."
That's got your attention.
You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.
You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.
Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.
"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."
He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.
He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.
When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.
"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.
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One of my favorite things that happened during my last mage Hawke playthrough was during the final battle against Meredith. Everything's going well. We're kicking her ass, she's got just this much health left, we're so close... but then everyone gets stunned dizzy.
Hawke is stumbling around all confused, seeing stars. The rest of his companions are stunned. I'm annoyed because I just want to end this fight. Don't know how or who did it, probably Meredith, but the situation's dire.
Meredith's standing by herself at the center of the Gallows, shouting nonsense and smugly believing the Maker's going to come down and make her his new bride after she murdered a bunch of innocent people.
Truly, this is the part of the story where Varric says they all thought hope was lost, that in the end, Meredith would pull a fast one on us and claim victory...
Until the REAL hero of dragon age 2 comes storming at her. I don't know why Carver was the only one to not be affected, but he literally jumped out of no where and just started bashing Meredith with his sword while everyone else was too dizzy to do anything until she was dead and the cutscene played.
"Hawke defeated Meredith-" LIES, VARRIC. I know the truth! I was there! Hawke didn't do shit! Carver Hawke was the main character all along! He got shit done and Varric gave Hawke all the credit!
I bring this up because last night I finished my warrior Hawke run and when we got to the fight with Meredith, I kind of hoped the same thing would happen where Bethany dashed in all heroic and got the killing blow on Meredith.
She did not.
She got squished by a statue.
But it's fine, Bethany Hawke was the true main character in my heart.
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Ten Books to Know Me
@aboxthecolourofheartache reblogged her version of this from ages ago but she'd tagged whoever saw it and it sounds very fun and difficult so let's do it!
Tris's Book by Tamora Pierce - I had a habit as a kid of always picking up the second book in a series, so this was the first of Tamora Pierce's books I read. Emelan had an effect on me on a microcosmic level, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, the protag of a whole world of mine is named Tris now, in homage to Trisana Chandler, so. the particulate is still kicking around in my brain.
Ptolemy's Gate by Jonathan Stroud - Another childhood FAVE. This series as a whole started fucking with what I understood a book to be. Also the ending of it has a vice grip on me to this day, and it is probably why so much of my writing is very vibey and favors ambiguous endings.
Cyrano de Bergerac - This was the first assigned reading I had in high school that I utterly LOVED. I love this play so much, I love the tragedy, I love the quiet sorrow. This was also the first proper tragedy that I remember really loving.
The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan - This is a book of poetry and short stories by a Yale creative writing student who was killed in a car crash very soon after graduating, compiled by her professor after her death. I read it repeatedly in college; it is really quite lovely.
Underland by Robert Macfarlane - Apologies to Box who wanted reading recommendations, but she is who introduced me to this book if I remember correctly, and I have spent the two years since I read it habitually picking up Macfarlane's writing without even realizing it. Absolutely phenomenal writing.
Staying with the Trouble by Donna Haraway - @ professor Haraway I know you are a semi-retired scholar and also in the most expensive college town on earth but are you looking for research assistants cuz uh
The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Tsing - I actually read both Staying with the Trouble and this book on the same weekend in the start of 2021. I compromised on not including Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, which I felt was very cliche of me, by including this book, which had as much of an effect. Read those three and Pantheologies by Mary-Jane Rubenstein and you will have some semblance of an idea of what the spiritual portion of my brain looks like. In the interest of not writing the same blurb four times I left the latter two off but know they make up a little microcosm of 'you could make a religion out of this' for me.
The Cat Who Saved Books by Sosuke Natskukawa - A Japanese novel about a cat who appears to a teenager after the death of his grandfather, a bookseller. I read it when I was very frustrated with trying to read contemporary fiction and it was a bright spot among that. (I am still very frustrated with the state of contemporary fiction and this book remains a light.)
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer - Okay I read this one most recently out of this list (over the summer) but it had been on my list for a long time and it really does live up to the hype because it is just so luminous in every sense.
Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer - I had to put this one last simply because HOLY HELL. Rewired my brain. This is the goal I aspire to, this is the dream I dream, this is the highest peak among the mountain range of writing aspirations that I climb. If I can one day write anything even akin to the Southern Reach trilogy I will be ready to die, but that is an utterly unachievable goal so God's just gonna have to let me live forever, I guess.
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