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postracehair · 2 months ago

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chicane

max verstappen x reader | 1.6k

you tell max you love him for the first time. accidentally.

cw: r is drunk but happy, max is charming and tipsy, being silly and in love, love confessions

a/n: this came to me while i was taking a drunk shower.

You're drunk and tonight was perfect.

The late-night lights of the city rush by as you get closer and closer to your hotel, the cab driver content to turn the radio up a little more as you ramble in the back seat.

"It's just so nice that they all wanted to celebrate you," you say. "And for that one guy to buy us all drinks 'cause he's a fan! Oh, look, Max, that one is so pretty."

Max dutifully agrees and gently keeps you from pressing your nose to the glass with an arm around your shoulders. He's less drunk than you are, though he probably had just as many drinks. After his remarkable win today you're glad he let loose. He deserves it. You think he deserves everything, but a night out with the team and his friends and some free drinks is a good start.

And, god, he looks so good like this. Cheeks flushed, hair a little sweaty and tousled from his hands and yours, shirt open a button or two lower than his usual. You abandon the window and look at him instead, watching lights you were so focused on color his face and make his eyes shine.

You're so proud of him.

He laughs. "Thank you, liefje." Oh, did you say that out loud? The hand not twisted in the strap of your top squeezes your knee. He keeps his eyes on your face, mouth curled into a soft half-smile like he can't help but be fond of you.

The cab driver says you're just about there and Max pulls away from you to hand him some cash and a thought hits you full-force, louder in your head than the rush of his car across the finish line earlier today.

You love him.

Did you say that out loud, too? No, no. He gives no indication of having heard you so you don't think so. But the realization fills you with awe, with lightness, with joy. You laugh to yourself and Max shoots you an amused glance. You'll tell him, probably. At some point. But for now it's like the best kind of secret, new and exciting.

Max slides out of the cab first and holds a hand out for you. Beaming at him, you take it and don't let go as he tugs you up through the hotel doors and across the lobby to the elevators.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It's like a song in your mind that syncs with the beat of your heart. You probably have for months, now. Maybe even as soon as you met him. How could you not? He's so good to you. Kind, patient, gentle. Funny, generous, intuitive. Quick to own up to his mistakes, willing to apologize when he's in the wrong. He's taught you so much about communication and healthy boundaries, about hard work and discipline.

Max says your name, pulling out of your lovesick musings. "Do I have something on my face?" he asks you, wearing his signature amused smirk and raised brow. You've been staring at him. The elevator arrives and you pull him into it, hitting your floor number and then the close button as quick as you can.

"No," you say, cheerily. "You're just handsome."

He rolls his eyes but welcomes you into his space, steadying you with a hand on your hips as you press your lips to his in the solitude of the elevator. It's a near miss -- you manage to catch the corner of his mouth, but Max redirects you easily for a proper kiss, slotting your lips together perhaps a little sloppily but it's exactly what you wanted.

A robotic voice announces your floor and Max pulls away first, pressing one more chaste kiss to your mouth before threading your fingers together and leading you down the hall to your room.

"Did you have fun tonight?" you ask him. He waves his room key in front of the pad and it lights up green.

"I did," he says, holding the door open for you to sneak under his arm. "Did you?"

You kick off your shoes and look around your shared room. Clothes draped on chairs, your suitcases lined up next to each other on the luggage racks. Max's laptop and meeting notes on the desk, the book you bought at the airport. It makes that feeling in your chest swell even more. You want to share space with him for the rest of your life.

"Yeah," you say. "I always have fun with you, Max."

He snorts at your enthusiasm but allows it, toeing off his sneakers and sitting heavily on the bed. You stand between his knees automatically and card both hands through his hair. He leans back on his palms and closes his eyes, chin tipped up. You could do this for hours, probably. It's always worth seeing him relax, let his walls down. Even when you're out with everyone on a night like tonight, blissfully loose and celebrating, you know he's not quite who he is when it's just the two of you. It's Max's nature to have these masks. They protect him.

But you protect him, too. You let him be himself.

"Are you hungry?" he finally asks, words slurring just the smallest bit. Probably from your fingers on his scalp more than the alcohol, really. "Want me to order some room service?"

It's the best idea you've ever heard and you tell him so. "Fries, maybe?" you suggest. "Oh, and a Diet Coke. For sure. And ice cream!"

"Okay, okay," he laughs, sitting up again and grabbing your wrists so he can kiss both of your palms. "Go shower and I'll call down."

"Shower!" you gasp, your drunkenness making your enthusiasm impossible to contain. "Such a good idea. You're so smart, Max."

He laughs, a bright, boyish sound. You would bottle it up if you could.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

This time it slips out.

"I love you," you say, beaming, without a second thought. "Wow, I can't wait to eat some fries."

You're so excited about this turn of events that you don't register his reaction, don't realize what you've confessed. You just head for the bathroom, grabbing your sleep clothes on the way and humming to yourself.

It's not until you're rinsing the fancy hotel body wash from your skin that you hear your own words in your ears.

You told Max you love him.

The water is warm but you shiver. "Oh god," you whisper to yourself.

Obviously you meant it. That's not the problem. It's just not really how you wanted to say it -- drunk after a night out celebrating his race win, thanking him for ordering you some 1am room service. Max deserves romance. You should have waited for a dinner date, or a night at his place this week, whispered it while you're both wrapped up in his sheets.

But now he knows. And does he feel the same?

You turn off the spray and wrap yourself in one of the huge, fluffy bath towels. He probably does, right? He certainly shows it. Even if he doesn't want to say it just yet you can feel it. In the way he looks at you, the way he looks after you. In his touches, the innocent ones and the not-so-innocent ones, in his gaze and the way he says your name like it's something precious.

He loves you. You're sure of it. You just feel a little silly about the whole thing.

You dry off and slip into your comfies. When you open the bathroom door you find Max tugging off his shirt, clearly planning to hop in the shower, too.

"Food should be here any minute," he says. "They had a few kinds of ice cream, so I got them all."

He turns to you and smiles so wide you feel your cheeks heat. He just looks so happy.

"I was going to tease you a bit," he says fondly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "About what you said before you went into the shower. But right now you just look so --"

"What, Max?" you ask, pouting a little. He's teasing you plenty, in your opinion.

"Cute," he finishes. "Liefje, you look like a raccoon."

You must look confused because he scrunches his nose at you and cups your face, thumbs swiping at the skin under your eyes. He shows you them, black mascara flecks dotting the pads of them.

"Oh," you say. "Whoops."

"I love you," Max says. "I should have led with that."

Your hands rest on his bare chest of their own accord, feeling the solid warmth of him you know so well. His heart beats steadily under your palm. As sure as his feelings for you.

"Really?" you breathe. You can't help it. Even though you believe him, even though it's not really a surprise, a reflexive sense of doubt swells in your throat. Can life really be this good? Can you have someone who loves you, someone who takes care of you, someone as good and kind as Max?

His brows furrow for just a second before he clearly surmises that you're just drunk and starry-eyed.

"Really," he echoes. He kisses you just once, soft and sure. "I'm going to shower. Leave some fries for me?"

You nod dutifully. "Obviously," you say. "You get some of my fries because I love you."

There's that laugh again -- unguarded, transforming his whole face.

"I'm a lucky guy," he says.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #mv33 #my writing #fic: chicane

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sultrysparkles · 6 months ago

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men who are just an absolute pain in the ass...

they're always stirring up some trouble. whether that be starting some drama between people or simply annoying people because they find it "funny"

or just straight up annoying YOU. their so-called "girlfriend". no matter what it seems like he'll never stop teasing you. he's always reminding you about the embarrassing time you tripped and fell in front of everybody at the grocery store, or the time you accidentally spat in him while talking super fast.

he's not only annoying. no. he's the most cocky and cunning bastard you've ever met in your whole life. seriously what guy whispers the most horny and lewd sentences into your ear, and then proceed to wear the most naive and innocent face ever. oh how you want to slap that stupid shit eating grin right off his face!

"remember last night when you were crying for my cock to fill you up? you looked so dumb begging f'me like that sweetheart... seriously"

"when we get home, I'm going to rip that skirt in half. you'd like that wouldn't you? you like it whenever I treat you like a worthless sexdoll, hm?"

and when you get home it's not a different story either. you're bent over the kitchen counter, the skirt being lifted up because you're boyfriend couldn't bother to at least take it off.

below you lay the new panties you just bought. not even a week ago. they're ripped in half all because your boyfriend couldn't spare another second to ease his angry erection. he doesn't care. why should he? he could always get you some new ones, he'll even help you pick them out

your hands are gripping the countertop tightly, holding on for dear life as the rapid feeling of skin slapping follows suit. your legs feel numb and your mind is gummylike, no thoughts. only the feeling of a pulsating cock being slammed in and out of you.

your boyfriend is behind you, groaning like a bitch in heat. he's so loud you wonder if the neighbors ever complain about him. hes whimpering out your name alongside many curses. you should really scold him for having such a potty mouth.

but why should you, he tugs on your hair just perfectly, making you look directly into his eyes. they're half lidded and look so pussy drunk and his mouth slightly agape. you'd hate to admit it but he looks so good all desperate and needy like this.

as your daydream slowly ends the reality of life hits you when you start to actually listen what your boyfriend's been rambling about. "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck baby... shit im gonna fill ya up okay? shit keep looking at me like that pretty girl..." he cries.

"wait!- no don't!-" but it's too late. one last thrust and warm silky strings of cum shoot throughout your body, your boyfriends hips shaking as he fills you up.

"whoops!" he mutters from behind you.

that son of a bitch.

GOJO, geto, toji, SERO, bakugo, denki, dabi, HAWKS, DAZAI, eren, + any of ur favs!!

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acid-ixx · 2 months ago

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— masterlist !

i swear, as i'm writing for chapter 5 for again &. again, i realize just how truly fucked up the comfort scene with jason and the reader will go through because one thought his death was neglected, whilst the other suffers through the consequences of their father's neglect because that same father cared too much for his second child to even notice the one that came after him.

and both siblings will slowly come to realize that and display different reactions. jason's too desperate to keep you close to him from now on because he can't afford having you go through anymore pain despite it being too late, despite you having long since slipped out of his grasp. his sweet angel has grown up too soon and too early, and he always wanted to be an older brother, now look at you—!

you're crying, in his arms, yet you're pushing him away at the same time. but you're too unstable, too hurt and in so much pain— you're going through the same lapse of breakdowns as him. he sees himself in you, and sees a broken child who wants nothing but comfort all throughout. you cry and tell him that you fear him, him and his guns and metal helmet, he's not your brother, you say, yet your head lays atop his jacket stained with your tears and you beg him to never mention this moment of weakness to your family.

how could he not protect you after all this? how could he let you go so easily after everything you've spilled? every secret, every confession— how could he not?

even if you tell him he's not family anymore, even if you tell him to treat you like every other gothamite he saves from crime, even if you pull yourself away just as quickly from his tightening hold; he couldn't just leave you be.

not when you're all broken because of him.

but you don't want his care, not anymore. you've long since given up on any sliver of love from your family that you're convinced he's simply doing this out of wishing to repair whatever relationship he has with you. you cried because you're at your limits, but you don't want his comfort, you don't want any of your family's, you simply did with him because he was the only one available, that's solely it.

but will he understand? no.

even if he takes you back to a location a few blocks away from your apartment, ensuring that he wouldn't follow you for the sake of your privacy (hah! as if), even if he promises you that he'll keep your meeting with each other a secret from everyone else, even if he wants to so badly come running to you to watch over his angel for the night— he needs to plan things, he needs some time to think for himself, on how to convince you to at least - if you refuse to reconnect with others, which he understands - trust him, and only him.

and if it weren't for bruce calling him through comms after watching your form slowly disappear into the distance, shoulders and torso cold from the absence of your body after just some minutes, with his jacket still damp from your tears and his thoughts running ablaze— he swore, he could've gone insane.

— i hope u guys don't mind me rambling rather than posting something longer. sometimes, my mind functions way too fast and i have to capture the opportunity to write something out whilst the thought is still fresh in my mind. i do hope the excitement and love for my series doesn't die down anytime sooner because of the amount of delays. and ofc, doing this all because jason todd appreciation !!

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enjoyjellime · 8 months ago

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Castlevania Grimoire of Souls made me wish we got a Warriors style game like Hyrule and Fire Emblem Warriors. Like the crossover aspect would be so fun to see all the different Castlevania characters from across the different games interacting and fighting alongside each other in cutscenes and hearing their banter and dialogues to each other. Also the gameplay is just a lot of fun in general.

(I've only played Hyrule and FE Warriors, as those ones have characters I know and like. The dynasty warriors games are probably pretty good as well, but this is just my preference.)

#🦥jelliecore #on the flipside🖤#castlevania #castlevania grimoire of souls #castlevania gos #hyrule warriors #fire emblem warriors #just some late night rambles. don't mind me

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xxgoldie · 2 months ago

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ns/fw ramblings - minors dni

ik we all like to imagine lighter as some sort of sex god - it comes with the territory of a confident n hot male character. but the more I think abt how much of a down-bad dork he is, the more the idea of him being a virgin, or at least having very little experience, is so so delicious to me. like, he could absolutely fuck if he wanted to, he canonically has fangirls, but he's a sap and he wants to wait for the right person. not to say he isn't horny - he fs watches porn and his head is full of fantasies.

imagine your relationship reaching that point, messily making out while you grind on his lap, both of you in nothing but your underwear. being able to touch all of you like this, the feeling of your clothed crotch rubbing against his, the soft little noises you made when your clit pressed against him - all infinitely better than his wildest fantasies, and he doesn't think to stop you until its already too late and he's cumming in his boxers with a stuttered groan.

he hadn't told you it was his first time. he had meant to, but things got hot and heavy before he got the chance, and he didn't exactly know how to slip it into conversation when you were taking your shirt off. it certainly looked like you were putting the pieces together now, a brief silence falling over you as you realised what had happened.

"lighter, did you just-" "i. i am so sorry-" "hey, don't apologise. are you okay?"

you aren't mad, visibly more surprised than disappointed, but even as you reassure him, his thoughts spiral. he finally found his person, finally felt ready to do this, and he'd gone and fucked it up. your sweet words fly in one ear and out the other, only making him feel more guilty that you were being so nice about it. he wanted to make you feel good, recreate all his late-night fantasies where fucked you until you couldn't think about anything but the feel of him, catering to your pleasure over and over again - you deserved that. yet here he was, falling apart at your slightest touch.

he only really snaps out of it when you kiss him, feather-light against his lips. your finger is tracing soft patterns against his bare chest, the feeling grounding him.

"trust me, love, its okay. i'll take it as a compliment."

there's a slight teasing glint in your eye - not making fun of him, but showing him this wasn't a big deal. when you kiss him again, he deepens it, as if he's trying to push all his scrambled thoughts of love and devotion from his mind to yours. your hips had been hovering over his, but you lowered yourself back into his lap as the rhythm of your tongues intensified. he almost felt relieved when he felt his dick twitch back to life.

"i really am sorry, baby." "i told you, you have nothing to apologise for. besides-" you wiggled your hips a little, drawing a sensitive hiss from his lips "-it feels like you're getting ready to make it up to me."

it may be an awkward start to his first time, but when he finally feels you sink down onto him, lighter feels like he's just found a heaven he's been waiting his whole life for. you feel impossibly good around him, but he thinks that even if his dick was numb, he could cum just from watching you - your low whine as he fills you up, the way your whole body tenses at the stretch then relaxes into pleasure, how you have to brace against his chest when he starts to thrust up into you.

he doesn't last long this time, either - any stamina he had built up by jacking off was for naught when you felt so much better than his hand. but he's so eager to please, a newfound addiction to the way your hips buck and eyes roll back. he makes you cum with his fingers, experimenting to see what makes you tick, eyes roaming your body and logging every little twitch and keen, confidence skyrocketing every time you praise him or beg for more. he's a fast learner - he has to be, he wants to see you fall apart like that over and over and over again.

(okay this turned out WAY longer than I intended it to be but I'm brainrotting so hard abt him, like can you blame me. also this is completely unedited and i wrote it one go lmao)

#he has a massive praise kink and you cant convince me otherwise #goldie thirsts ♡#zenless zone zero #zzz #zzz lighter #lighter lorenz #zzz lighter lorenz #lighter zzz #x reader #zzz lighter x reader #lighter x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #zzz x reader #zzzero x reader #zzzero

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taintedcigs · 11 months ago

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— late night blues

pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)

author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.

You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.

"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.

"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."

"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.

The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.

Yet, none of you ever made any effort.

And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.

"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.

"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"

But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.

He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."

Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.

You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.

"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.

Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.

You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.

The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.

A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.

"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.

But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.

It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.

You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.

The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.

Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?

You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?

You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"

You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"

He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"

Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.

You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.

"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.

"Do you want anything?"

If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.

"Need anything?"

"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.

The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.

He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"

He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.

Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.

He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.

You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"

"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."

You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?

"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.

It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.

He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.

And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"

He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"

You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."

You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.

You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.

He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.

"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.

A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.

It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.

He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.

This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.

"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.

His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.

"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.

You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.

"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.

Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.

You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."

Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.

Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.

"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."

It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.

His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.

Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.

He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.

With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.

“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.

You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.

“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."

"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.

You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.

But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.

And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.

But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."

"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.

"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.

Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.

He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."

It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.

"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.

"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.

Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.

After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fics #eddie munson oneshot

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Text

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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sexilene · 8 months ago

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kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!

oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.

"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.

"i was about to go to sleep jj."

"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.

"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.

"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."

"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.

"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.

"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.

"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."

"that you killed danny?"

"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.

"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"

"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.

"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.

"seriously! beat it!" he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"

"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.

you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.

"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.

"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"

"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.

"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.

"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"

"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.

"right. great. i'll drive you home."

"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.

"so which movie did you rent?"

"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."

"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"

"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.

"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.

"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.

"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.

"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.

"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.

"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.

"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.

"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"

"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting you onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.

"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.

"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.

"turn it off, please! please!…"

"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"

"uh huh…i swear just please!"

"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.

"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.

"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.

"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"

"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.

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