You know how like dogs sniff peoples crotches while they're on their period? (Mine does at least.) Anyway, German Shepard Simon!
It's about the middle of the might but being a light sleeper you awakened by a soft few nudges to your stomach, opening your eyes you see your mammoth of a boyfriend, sniffing you with his ears pinned back. "Si...? It's like 1am... what's wrong...?" For a moment ghost just watches and sniffs again before lifting his head off of you. "You smell of blood." He was always so matter-of-fact. You sat up rubbing your eyes "Yep, kinda filled with the stuff love-" a frown formed on your face at the familiar feeling of blood pooling in your panties. "Love? Mind getting me some clean clothes?" Simon tilted his head, poor baby looked so cute but he realised. "Oh... that... I forgot..."
Now once a month you wake up to Simon whining, sniffing you and making sure your not hurt when it's really just your period saving you from baby jail
Simon pulling you off his dick mid bouncing, his hands gripping the fat of your hips as he try’s to drag you up towards his face.
“Up, mama” he mutters as his grip tightened trying to get you to just sit on his face. He just wants to feel your soft supple thighs on either side of his head, and your sweet cunt on his mouth. He wants to be surrounded by you. To be engulfed by you and your delicious pussy.
Trying to refuse what he’s asking of you only gets him to beg more, mutter sweet words to you as he continues to pull you up towards his face, just aching for it.
This is something that the two of you haven’t done together yet, but it’s been the only thing that Simon can think of. Your hips rocking back and forth your slick coating his face as he has his tongue buried deep inside you. Making you squirm around on top of him, trying to lift up and away from his teasing tongue. Only making him wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you in place, his strong arms holding you steady with ease whilst he continues his assault on your poor little pussy.
Sometimes he’ll land a light slap to your ass as a warning if you still continue to squirm after he’s contained you with his arms, mumbling something about behaving as he’s sucking your clit into his mouth.
Simon takes great pride in pleasing his woman, it’s probably his biggest turn on to be honest. Seeing you all sweaty with your flushed face and your legs shaking as you try to recover from the 3 orgasm that Simon gave you all in a row.
Your Owner!Satoru thought it’d be a great idea to give your kitty-like brain a break for once with some catnip. It’d also be funny to see how you’d act high. He’d give it to panther!suguru but that wouldn’t do much for him considering his large size. While getting your pats and daily grooming like normal Satoru said he had a present for you putting a lollipop in your mouth chuckling as you licked away. Smirking at the sight of your eyes starting to dilate. “hm.. your likin’ that aren’t ya’”. You nodded too focus to form a real response. Suguru soon walked out freshly showered in sweats his large tail sticking out. Drying his hair with a hand towel ears twitching. “What’re you doing..” he asked starting at the two of you a bit jealous of the fact that you’re propped up in satorus lap. “You’ll see” satoru responded with a chuckle standing you and himself up. “Cmere let me see that” he said taking the catnip pop out of your mouth. “Wouldn’t want you to have too much now would”. Suguru got closer sniffing what he had recently been pulled out of your mouth. “You gave her catnip.?” the idea of you being so vulnerable..so defenseless making him flustered. Satoru nodded tossing you a toy watching you play with not a single thought in mind. “Might be fun to see how she’ll act, be good and watch over her for a sec”
That’s how you ended up where you are now, Suguru playing with you how he did when Satoru first brought you home watching the way you’d randomly purr or enjoy the sight of your ass and tail wagging side to side trying to reach ur ball that went underneath the couch. “Geez this stuff makes you stupid..” he muttered as if he wasn’t feeling a tightness in his pants from the sight it’s self wondering how well you’d look bent just like that underneath him. He pulled your tail to get your attention placing another toy directly over his lap getting you to paw at the throb underneath his pants. Innocently making biscuits with his sweatpants fabric. He purred ears twitching. Watching as you touched him tail waving in the air happily. “Suguruuu” he snapped out of the sound of you whining his name. “w-what..what’s wrong”. You pawed at him more with your hands “i wan’ more of the lollipop…it’s so good” practically crawling on his much larger body tail getting more and more excited. He picked you up with ease setting you on the couch. Pinning you down attempting to hold himself back looking over your body lustfully. “fuck…” he mumbled gulping slightly. “Look- you be a good girl and i’ll tell gojo to give you more okay.?” you nodded as his large tail wrapped around your leg the fluffiness tickling your skin. He stared you down one more time before dragging the shorts and your underwear you had on off to your feet in one quick pull. “just- don’t move..” he murmured into your ear undressing you, touching on your thighs moving higher up getting hard off the feeling of your soft legs and hips. “I’m gonna fuck you a bit mkay.?” before you could make a response he slid his sweatpants off revealing his thick erratic cock. He grabbed a hold of himself rubbing it against your folds feeling you get tighter. “mnghh suguruu-!”. He shushed you placing kisses on the side of your mouth. Suguru then placed a hand on your lower stomach the other on his cock sliding himself into you. “oh..oh shitt- you feel so mhf- so fucking good” letting go of his cock moving his free hand to your hip to keep you stable starting with slow thrust. He’d been waiting for this moment since the moment Satoru brought you home seeing that little ass and sweet smelling cunt of yours drive him crazy. “Hah..haah.. hmf“ you panted out with each slow thrust getting him more and more pussy drunk off the sounds of your soft voice thrusting harder. “fuck- fuck- fuck- m’ gonna.. fill you up so good kitty” he chuckled slightly seeing you babble out a few words eyes rolling from the sensation of his thick angry cock going in and out of you quickly, practically spreading you open. “mmmf!!” You moaned out loudy. “Be quiet for me. Yeah?Wouldn’t want our owner catching me fucking our new kitty stupid..?” Moving two fingers into our mouth making your moans muffled his tail gripping tighter helping hold you down as you squirmed, fluffy ears twitching at the sound of you moaning his name. Few harsh pumps later before he tenses up shaking cuming into you “mhaahh-“ he whines out softly fucking the rest of his cum into you before pulling out. Smirking looking down at your limp body “attagirl now who wants some more catnip?”
Synopsis: After fulfilling his part of the deal with Angstrom, he moved on to the main clause of the agreement. What he truly wanted to possess. Still the differences between universes could be quite strange.
!!Warnings: Reader is married to Main Mark and has children with him, reader is pregnant. I've aged the characters further than in the original for the sake of the story. Sinister Mark is opportunistic and terrifying, but the writing is actually quite safe, ust squint a little and you'll see that Sinister Mark is a warning, he's the kind of person who can experience longing intensel, a little smut!!
A.n: I can't even imagine this with the other variants. Especially with Viltrumite and Maskless Mark…both would probably go insane. Especially Viltrumite Mark lol. Btw I accidentally shared this text four days ago…and someone saw it. Unfortunately, I had to silence that person—may they rest in peace…😔 (bribed them into silence) Normally, I barely used em dashes but I wanted to try out a new style.
!!Words Count 3k!!
He was moving at a speed that tore through the sound barrier. Learning where that idiot version of himself lived had been quite easy. The annoying part was finding out he was married. To what belonged to him. To you. With a scowl on his face, he sliced straight through the left wing of the plane in front of him. He kept going as if the roar of destruction he'd caused didn't exist at all. Of course, even while making a deal with Angstrom—someone whose very existence he could barely tolerate—he had known you would be different in this universe. He had expected you to be his partner in this version as well, not stuck in some long marriage arranged the moment you came of age. "Hah, married? Seems my little domestic fantasy is stronger in this universe." A smirk followed the mockery in his voice.
He loved you in a way that would make him sick to his stomach. He had never denied it—neither to you nor to himself. Besides, he wasn't going to legitimize something that already belonged to him with some stupid pieces of paper. Ridiculous. He landed in front of the house he was certain was the address he'd been given, touching down fast. He had come down at the door with such smooth speed that not the slightest sound betrayed his arrival.
Before reaching for the door, he cast a brief glance at the house. It was a large, beautiful place—detached, decorated in dark and green tones. The front yard stretched wide to the sides, reaching all the way toward the backyard. "Nice house for playing family." The amusement in his voice dripped from his lips like poison as he turned the handle of the outer door and slipped inside with ease. "Ah…stupid and overly confident too." The fact that the door stood there with so little precaution was almost funny; apparently, this version believed he could protect you from everything. When he stepped inside, a heavy scent of lavender filled his senses.
With the daytime sun pouring inside, the house felt surprisingly calm and comfortable. The ivory-colored wall at the entrance continued into the living room that greeted him right away. There wasn't much in the entryway—just a shoe rack, a coat closet and a few umbrellas carelessly stuffed into a box.
Sinister Mark looked around the living room as he walked in, his hands swinging lazily at his sides. It was quite spacious—farther ahead stretched a long hallway, with doors on the right opening into other rooms, while on the left there was a cozy, characterful kitchen connected to the living room.He wandered around the room for a bit. The fact that there wasn't even a single photo of the two of you was irritating. He clicked his tongue. "Whatever."
He reached for the first door that caught his eye on the right, but just as he was about to step inside, the door beside it flew open with force.
"Dad's here!" A little boy ran toward him with great excitement and wrapped his arms around his leg. He couldn't have been more than five…maybe not even that. Mark struggled to process what was happening. His brows knit slightly. The thing clinging to him…was that your child? He didn't even reach out to touch the kid. Even with the mask, the surprise on his face was obvious. The little boy looked up at Mark with shining eyes—eyes he wasn't used to seeing. "You promised we'd have baked pasta night today, Dad."
Mark let out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. What was wrong with him? Of course you would have a child—you had been married to his idiot version for quite some time. Pulling himself together a little, he offered a small smile to the boy who looked exactly like him. Then he bent down and slid his hands under the child's arms to lift the kid who was still clinging to his leg.
He wasn't even sure what to call the boy—maybe he should ask…but before he could lift the kid who was eagerly waiting to be picked up, another small figure burst out of the room the boy had come from. For a second, his focus shifted to whoever had come out—then, the next second, the son he had just picked up had his head jerked to the side with a loud "Ah!" The one who had just landed a quick punch to the boy's face was a little girl who reminded him of himself as well. Her hair was braided in a fishtail style, and if it weren't for her furrowed brows, she would have had the face of an angel. Suddenly, she shrieked—sharp enough to make Mark flinch. "How many times do I have to tell you not to dump your requests on Dad when he gets home, Dean!"
"Dadddddd she hit me againn!" the boy,whose name he had just learned was Dean,cried with trembling voice and teary eyes. While holding his bruised cheek, he clung to Mark's arm with his other hand. "You shouldn't do that," Mark said as he finally lifted Dean into his arms, hardly believing the situation he'd found himself in. Were the kids twins? They looked so much alike that he couldn't even spot any difference that suggested an age gap.
Holding his son in his arms felt strange. He was such a fragile little thing. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, his hand went without thought to Dean's reddened cheek. He studied the damage with a careful look, she had hit him quite hard. It really was…odd to imagine his son being on the receiving end of his daughter's force. She seemed to realize her momentary anger had passed and offered a small apology. After throwing Mark some strange glances for a moment, she said, "You promised your new costume would be blue!" She tugged on his cape. Mark looked at the girl who was pulling at his cape while his hand still rested on Dean's cheek. God… she was so stubborn. Who did she get that from?
"Eh some surprises don'f hurt anyone." His usual smirk had finally settled back onto his face. He wasn't even sure what to call the girl —what was her name? The real question was…where were you? Pulling his hand away from Dean, he patted the cheek of his pouting daughter and stroked her hair. Strange. Even through the glove, it felt soft.
He hadn't felt this since your death. Even now, if he wanted to go searching for you all over the house, he still couldn't shake the impact of the reality that these were his children. He had never even imagined having kids with you—but here they were, inexplicably looking entirely like him. He watched with curiosity as Dean stroked the fabric of his mask in his lap—perhaps there were similarities in their characters, who knew? In time, he would learn. He looked at the love the children gave him with a ravenous hunger, even though their real father was out somewhere, thinking they were safe. The thought made him chuckle. He bent his knees slightly and scooped his daughter into his other arm. Carrying both kids in his arms, a feeling of happiness rose within him—one he would normally mock, but couldn't deny now.
He stepped into the room the children had come from earlier. It was a colorful space, filled with a large round table in the center and plenty of paints. Even the walls were covered in drawings. As Mark set the kids down, one of the drawings on the wall caught his eye—a family portrait. You, the children and that awful version of him. They stood hand in hand, wearing awkward, shaky smiles. Even if he hadn't killed you, it was an image he would never have been able to obtain…
"Alright kids," he said, turning to the children who were sitting on the floor, continuing their unfinished drawings. "Where's your dear mother?"
"Mommy said she's taking a bath, Dad." Dean didn't even bother to lift his head. Mark satisfied with the answer, glanced once more over the table from his shoulder before turning to the door. Both kids were sitting there, carefully trying to draw his bright yellow costume on paper with their crayons. The smile on his face faded. Without looking any longer, he left the room. Nothing in this house truly belonged to him—but at the same time, it did. Messy…and warm.
In the quiet house, it was easy to follow the sound of running water. He climbed the stairs step by step from where the upper level began near the kitchen. At the very start, he opened the bathroom door that greeted him and stepped inside. "Mark?" That voice. As it came from behind the door, his eyes quickly searched for the source—almost desperately. You were sitting in the bathtub, hair wet, looking toward the door. Toward him. With those alive, vibrant eyes of yours. Not the dead ones. No—these had their own living tones. You parted your lips, but only a breath came out. Tilting your head, you watched him curiously. "You came home early…did something happen?" A faint, worried smile played across your face.
Sinister Mark just stood there. Right now, you were real. The voice he heard was real. Not like the ones he used to hear…no, his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. He took a step or two forward sideways, then stopped again. Pressing his lips together, he clenched his gloved fists, the slight creak echoing as you watched. "I know…you told me I should never attempt these things without you. Is this for that?" His clenched hands relaxed, and without thinking, he walked toward you. Toward the nakedness he hadn't seen in years. While you were babbling, he had already kneeled beside the bathtub. "I just wanted to relax…you know, being with the twins wears me out too much."
His hands went to your hair, stroking it gently. "I can't be mad at you for this." Under his touch, you leaned even further back into the bathtub. You were look so beautiful, so safe under the soapy water. He had to consciously keep his hands from trembling. "Then why did you come home early, handsome?" you teased, giving a playful grin. He watched how the corners of your lips creased slightly with that smile—a sight he wasn't used to. You loved him, but you never smiled like that. Not after what he'd done. Had he learned again, would it always be the same? Would life grow dim in your eyes like that grin, would it fade toward him? That soul, which had never had a chance to crush him, would it retreat back into its shell again…
He swallowed. His adam's apple moved as he shifted slightly. "I missed you." The confession hung between you—but even heavier in his heart. He wondered how you'd react, watching your eyes look at him with a hint of surprise, the smile on your face fading slightly. He didn't want it to fade completely. Slowly, his hand moved to stroke your cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Mark." Suddenly, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. Your embrace caught him off guard—his hand was still suspended in the air where your face had been. He clenched his teeth. He gently buried his head against your wet shoulder. "God, you're wet." His hands settled on your back, returning your hug. You giggled at his mild complaint, and he inhaled it. Like a starving animal savoring the way your body shivered with your laugh. You were alive, warm, happy. More than he expected. It was so comforting. It was funny to think—this peace…yet the entire damn house was soaked in it. That unfamiliar happiness, that peace that was almost allergic to his soul…it was everywhere. Surrounding him. When you felt his grip tighten, you responded in kind. "Yes, big man, now you need to stop coming to my feet like a kicked puppy every time you're unhappy. I don't want the kids to pick that up either." You said it in a playful tone as you patted his back.
One of his eyebrows twitched beneath the mask, his face buried in your shoulder slowly shifting toward your jugular. His breath gently brushed against your skin as he murmured, "A kicked puppy? I'm not like that, Y/n." you only let out a teasing little hum. God, you were so sarcastic woman…he could get used to. He pressed a sharp, longing kiss along jugular in your neck. Then another. His hands slid down your back toward your tailbone, and he felt your breath hitch for a moment. Your body, fuller and rounder than he remembered, hadn't fully recovered after giving birth to the twins. Though your breast, pressed against him in the hug, had regained some of its former fullness. He didn't mind—it just felt unusual. When his hands ghosted lower to your rear, you pushed back at him playfully. The sudden motion caught him off guard. "Mark, you idiot! Didn't I say no sex while I was pregnant?* All the fun seemed to drain as you quickly climbed out of the foamy bath. Before he could process your words, your belly came into view—swollen, marked with stretch lines. Wet, you stepped past him, and he looked down at the now empty foamy water. His wrists rested against the edge of the tub, hands dangling forward. He muttered in disbelief, "God…she was pregnant." Despite the shock on his face, a deep anger flared inside him. Against your husband—no against his own version. Damn it…that useless piece of trash. How lucky and insatiable. He would've decorated the floor with his own hands where he first found you. Turning his head over your shoulder, he watched you dry your wet hair. His eyes slid back to your hips and rear. After lingering there for a moment, he shifted focus to your belly, even though he couldn't see it fully from behind. "You've gotten even plumper every day," he said, trying not to sound too weird while letting his thoughts slip. You glanced at his grin over your shoulder. So today was a playful day, how nice. "I wonder whose fault this is?" You set aside the small towel in your hand, grabbed a bigger one from the rack, and wrapped your body in it. "If you hadn't ripped the damn condom during sex, I'd be living in peace right now. Not eating that cursed jam with the egg all at once."
Jam and eggs together? Mark couldn't hold back a laugh—god, pregnancy cravings were so strange. He quickly rose to his feet and strode toward you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His hands slid over your swollen belly while his eyes followed every movement. Gently caressing you over the towel, he turned his face even closer to yours. "Pregnancy suits you," he murmured, his breath brushing your ear. "Give me a kiss, beautiful woman." Chuckling, you tilted your head to meet his grinning lips. Today he was acting pretty weird. But you didn't think much of it—you remembered how even just Mark breathing used to make you snap, thanks to your hormones. This had to be because of the hormones. He captured your lips quickly, his hands stroking your belly as he drew in your breath. Your tongues danced together inside your mouths. God, your moans…it was like he could take even more from you, he pressed his head further into you. His hands slid beneath your belly. With a slight lift of your stomach, you moaned against his lips. That was enough for him. After pulling back just enough to let you breathe, your lips met again. He devoured you hungrily, and with a swift motion, escaped from your towel. The towel fell to your feet as Mark turned you around and pressed your back against the door. As gently as he could. You paused the kiss for a moment. "God, Mark you're such a trickster," you said. Ignoring your words entirely, he bit and pulled off his gloves. Tossing them aside without care, his fingers found your opening shamelessly. Both of you went breathless—Mark even more so from excitement. He was on the edge of losing control. With your plump form, he wanted to consume you completely. Damn the baby…it was the only thing standing between him and claiming what was his. Just two motions, and Mark's fingers were coated in your fluids. "God, look at you…you're literally dripping."
You whimpered with a hint of embarrassment. "Because of the bath!" Chuckling at your words, he pulled you into another kiss. "Yes, yes I'm sure that's the reason, my little beautiful wife." He couldn't get enough of your lips. He wanted to taste as much as he could with his tongue, to slide his teeth as far as possible. And he did—gently nibbling just enough to tease your lips. You moaned right against his mouth. "Mark! Be gentle! I'm carrying two lives here!" You scolded him, tapping his hand on your shoulder, and in response, he pressed his fingers against your walls. You moaned with pleasure. It was the most delightful sound in his ears. Chuckling as he lightly licked the faint blood that had appeared on your lips without bleeding, he said, "I can't help it… you're just too beautiful." With two fingers moving inside you, you could barely stay standing, propped up just by his presence. You were delicate, fragile… maybe pregnancy wasn't such a bad thing after all. Especially knowing he could see you like this for nine months…yet, from the corners of his mind, hatred and jealousy toward your Mark flared up once more. I'll ruin his brain and…then he whispered, "After the one in your belly comes out, I'll bury another one inside you, my love."
Later, after he made you cum twice with his fingers and fucked your thighs, you would have had a few words about his “new” costume—telling him how the yellow actually suited him, etc—then he would go off to do a task he needed to do, which involved killing the real Mark. I was pretty lazy and ate up half the scenario. Nothing was left for you. By!
can we prettyyyyy pleaseeee get more of alastor and his wife??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
I ASSUME YOU MEAN THIS POST???
either way it’s what ur getting now
Okie so if you’ve not read the other post, tldr Reader is Alastor’s spouse who also owns his soul, none of the hotel members know that fact, que hijinks and laughter
Uh also this part is definitely more gn than the last one dysphoria is a bitch
The first post only touched on the married part, so this is about the soul owning bit!
Ask box is open! Requests are not :)
“Y’know,” Angel dust— you finally learned his full name— starts slowly, swirling the contents of his drink around absently. “I just remembered something you said the first day you got here..”
You tilt your head with a smile, taking a sip of your own drink. It has been a week since your sudden entrance to the hotel and you had been settling nicely! You, much like Alastor, didn’t truly believe in the whole… redemption nonsense, but you were at least nice enough to not point that out.
“Hm? And what did my beloved say, Angel?” Alastor cuts in, materialising from the shadows behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You lean back into his touch and laugh at the expression in his face.
Angel clears his throat, taking a sip of his liquid courage before speaking slowly, the words coming to him through a haze almost. “I uh, asked who chained ya down and you said… you said it was the other way ‘round?”
You hum, tilting your head. “Mn, and you want to know what I meant by that, I assume?” You don’t wait for an answer, not really, tilting your head back to meet Alastor’s warm gaze. “Well, my dear? It’s your decision if they get to know.”
He hums and haws theatrically, tilting his head this way and that as if the change in angle will help him understand the question better, before his grin widens and he shrugs. “Oh, what the hell? Go ahead, darling, I’d love to see their reactions!”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you push your now empty glass towards Husk with a small smile. “Alright…” you wait until your drink has been refilled to speak up again— wanting to confirm the safety of your glass, should the shock cause such big reactions, as Alastor was expecting. “It’s quite simple, honestly. Alongside his heart, I also happen to… own his soul, as well.”
The reaction is instantaneous. Glasses shatter, voices are raised from polite conversation to incoherent screaming.. you haven’t seen so much chaos since your first year in hell, wandering all alone whilst waiting for your beloved.
You take a sip of your drink, sharing a look with Alastor as the chaos around you intensifies with each moment you remain silent. You raise your hand, and instantly, all sound cuts out. You smile slightly. “May I speak now?”
You don’t wait for an answer, shrugging slightly. “It’s really quite simple, I swear. I didn’t force Alastor to do anything— he’ll tell you himself, he practically begged me to make a deal with him.” Alastor nods, not at all embarrassed. He’d never be embarrassed or ashamed of his clever wife, to enamoured to be anything otherwise.
Charlie— delightful kind soul she is— steps forward with an awkward smile, gaze flitting between you and Alastor. “Is… is that true, Al?” She questions quietly, and you honestly can’t blame her for being concerned. Most everyone, regardless of how they lost their soul, holds some contempt for their “owners”.
Alastor hums, grin stretching further across his face. “Quite so, my dear! It’s a long tale, but I couldn’t be happier where I am now!” He wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you towards him.
And that’s it. Slowly, motions at the hotel resume as they had before. In the comfortable noise, you lean closer to Alastor, expression more fond than you care to admit. “You’re such a charmer, you know that?” You tease lowly, rubbing your thumb over the knuckles of his hand.
He laughs quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. “Just for you, my love,” he murmurs in response, squeezing your joint hands softly.
Summary: Bucky got too carried away and snapped the headboard in half, that’s literally it..
Content Warnings:: Explicit sexual content, 18+ mdni, fem!reader, piv, dom bucky, rough sex, accident bed breaking, post sex awkwardness, horrible grammar
Bucky grunted as he grabbed your legs, bringing them up over his shoulder to fuck you deeper and harder. His hand moved to grip your thigh possessively as he started pounding into you with brutal thrusts, the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall with a thunderous noise. One hand stayed on your hip while the other held your thigh open wider.
“Fuck… fuck…”
You moaned loudly as you came around him hard. His eyes squeezed shut, his mask of composure cracking as he felt your pussy contracting around him, massaging his dick perfectly. He growled deeply and pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in hard, making you cry out again. His thrusts turned erratic and deep, his hips snapping against yours as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, dragging them to meet each punishing thrust.
His metal arm suddenly shot out and grabbed the headboard tightly, knuckles turning white as he used it for leverage to pound into you even harder right as his orgasm hit. The wooden frame creaked alarmingly under the force, and his loud groan echoed through the room.
His metal fingers clenched harder than he realized… too hard.
CRACK.
The entire headboard snapped clean in half under his arm.
Bucky’s whole body went rigid instantly.
You gasped, hands flying to the sheets as the broken wood crashed behind you.
For a split second, all either of you heard was your breathing. heavy, uneven, stunned.
Bucky froze above you, still buried deep inside you, chest heaving as he stared at the splintered headboard like it had personally betrayed him. His metal arm hovered awkwardly mid-air, fingers flexing as if startled by its own strength.
“…shit,” he breathed, voice low and rough, half mortified, half still recovering from how hard he’d been going.
You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, hair wild around your face.
The bed creaked beneath you both, lopsided now, one side sagging where the headboard had snapped clean off.
Bucky swallowed hard, jaw tight, looking between you and the destruction he’d just caused.
He hadn’t meant to lose control like that.
He hadn’t meant to break anything
especially not your bed.
And judging from your shocked stare, you hadn’t expected it either.
A couple hours later, you were still very much pissed.
You sat on the couch with your arms crossed, refusing to look at him.
Bucky hovered nearby like a guilty golden retriever trapped in a six-foot supersoldier’s body.
“Baby,” he tried again, voice soft and pleading, “I said I was sorry.”
You didn’t answer.
He crouched in front of you, big hands resting on his knees.
“It just— it wasn’t on purpose,” he insisted. “You just— you felt so good and I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping the headboard and—”
Your eyes snapped to him sharply, and he shut his mouth mid-sentence.
Bucky swallowed.
“…I mean, uh. That’s not helping, is it?”
You gave him the flattest look imaginable.
“No, James. It’s not.”
He winced at the use of his first name.
“I’ll fix it,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy a new one. I’ll build one. I’ll carve one from a tree. I’ll-”
“Stop.” You lifted a hand. “You’re not allowed near wood right now.”
He blinked, offended. “It was one time!”
You just stared.
“I said sorry,” he muttered.
Silence. Then you turned away again, jaw tight. Bucky sat beside you slowly, like you might combust.
“I didn’t mean to break it,” he said softly. “…I just got carried away. With you.”
Your lips twitched, just a little, like you were trying not to find that cute.
But you still didn’t look at him.
Bucky groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in your thighs.
You smiled secretly then slipped your fingers into his hair, petting him.
summary- joel shows you a side to intimacy you didn't know could feel so good. basically reader used to rough sex (and enjoys it), but joel shows her sensual can be just as intense, passionate and enjoyable. (honestly just soft and intense smut + a hint of body worship)
warnings- smut, established relationship (new), soft joel, joel is a tease, nipple play (f receiving), dry humping (for like a second ish), unprotected p in v, prone bone, slow and intense smut, finishing inside (i hate the word creampie ok)
wc- 1.9k
(omg hello thank you all so much for the love on my first fic here. like genuinely its insane, you have all been so incredibly sweet. sorry i couldn't post another fic earlier uni has been killing me. but i hope you guys enjoy this one :). oh also i have like no tumblr friends so please please feel free to dm me or send me asks or interact bc i lowkey have no clue how to make friends on here)
He’d been unusually gentle with you tonight, slow, firm kisses to your lips. Dragging it out, watching you chase his mouth as he pulls back to look over you. His hands trailing up along your sides, under that old shirt of his you’d stolen. Not that he’d minded one bit. He lets out a soft chuckle as you shiver slightly, his breath fanning over you. The sensation of his hands there tingling your skin. The feeling bordering between pleasurable and ticklish.
You bite the inside of your cheek, as you try not to let out a laugh. “Whats so funny?”
He smiles, and the warmth in it makes your stomach flip. “Didn’t realise you were ticklish”
You shake your head, his smile contagious, now spreading onto your face. “I’m not” you protest weakly.
“Mhmm” he hums teasingly, the sound deep. He continues the path up your sides. Calloused fingertips teasing along your ribcage. Following the delicate lines until his thumbs brush along the sensitive skin right underneath your breasts.
You squirm slightly, not used to such a slow explorative touch. You hadn’t been with Joel long, but the few times you’d been together intimately had been raw and full of passion, a little on the rougher side. Which is what you’d been used to in your past relationships, what you enjoyed.
But this feels exciting and new, the anticipation of his touch just as igniting as the overwhelming onslaught you were used to. You never thought that the ghost of his breath teasing against the skin of your neck could be just as consuming as his rough lips sucking and gliding there.
Your breathing was unusually heavy for such little stimulation, his teasing setting your skin on fire. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest where his big hands were spread along your ribs still.
“You’re shaking, didn't realise you were this sensitive” he breathes against your skin, as he finally brushes his lips against your neck, followed by a slight scrape of his stubble.
You feel restless, feverish. Your throat bubbling with the urge to beg, for something, anything. The words starting to climb up your throat, threatening to claw their way out of your mouth. An urge that you’d never felt before. He senses this, soothing you over with a slow, thorough kiss to your lips. One that softens you, your spine melting against the mattress.
Joel’s warm hands slide back down, his fingers sliding under the waistband of your underwear to slide them off. Slow, measured and controlled. Still kissing your lips, his teeth capturing the bottom one. Slowly pulling at it, letting it slip between the grasp of his mouth. Before his tongue slides against yours.
Come to think of it, you don’t think you've ever been kissed this meticulously. It’s usually a quick fumble of mouths until the desperation kicks in and clothes are ripped off. But he seems to stay here, savouring the feel of your lips. Basking in his need for you. His exploration, languid and deep.
The slow build and the feel of his deep shaky exhales brushing out from his nose and onto the skin of your cupid's bow makes your stomach clench in anticipation. All you can feel is him, his hands soft on your now bare hips as his thumb brush over the jut of the bone. His smell overwhelming your nose as he presses closer, so manly, so him.
Your hands slide up under his shirt as he’s kissing you, feeling along the softness of his stomach. Your hands tracing along the trail of hair there. He sighs against your lips, pausing his movements. Pressing his forehead against yours, soaking up the touch, his nose nudges against yours.
Your hips nestle against his, the bare skin of you dragging against the front of his soft flannel pyjamas. The fuzzy cotton providing little friction, the feeling so featherlight that makes your hips stutter. He pulls back to watch in awe, his hands still resting on your hips. Now guiding slow, gentle grinds of your hips against him.
The sensation makes the surface of your skin tingle, the pleasure teasing and so not enough. Your body desperately trying to meet the stimulation half way, with soft little throbs and pulses. Somehow it feels like a new kind of intensity, pleasure forming more from your own body's desperation than the touch itself.
Joel keeps his eyes glued on you, your lips parted around soft little pants of pleasure. Your cheeks starting to flush. One of his hands come up to brush over your cheek. “So gorgeous, i’m so lucky you're mine.”.
The hand that had travelled up to your cheek trails down again, slipping under your (his) shirt. Dragging the hem up enough to brush his thumb over the soft peak of your nipple. He watches as the sensation makes your stomach clench, the muscles under your soft skin rippling.
You hadn’t ever really had someone touch you there before, explore every spot like that. You didn't know it could feel so electric. Each brush of his calloused pad of his thumb against the soft sensitive skin sends pulses of pleasure straight down to your core, like a phantom touch. This makes you let out your first moan of the night, the sound airy and half caught in your throat, and judging by Joel's grin he’s enjoying himself way too much.
His deft hands slide off your shirt, settling you back against the mattress when he’s done. Joel’s deep brown eyes rake over your now bare body. The feel of the cool air on your skin reminds you that you're fully naked and he’s still fully clothed. You decide to even the playing field, your hands pulling off his shirt. Greedily trailing along his bare chest, fingertips weaving through the hair there.
He leans down before you have the chance to compliment him, his mouth pressing kisses along the skin around your nipple. Before capturing it into his mouth. His tongue soft and warm as he swirls along it. The sensation makes you curl in on yourself, it’s so strangely sensitive you're not sure how to interpret it. The surface of the feeling almost tickles, too sensitive to stay still, underneath it’s this sparking pleasure right between your legs. You can’t resist the urge anymore and you try to squeeze your thighs together, forgetting he’s still between them. He laughs softly against your skin, “squirmin’ like a fish outta water”. He kisses his way to the other breast before giving the same attention to the other peak.
His hand snakes down between your legs, his fingertips tracing along your wetness. It makes your breath hitch, the place where you're aching finally receiving attention. You whine, your hips chasing his touch, the small of your back arching up off the mattress as you do. “Joel” you breathe out.
He doesn't respond, too lost in you. His mouth trailing down your stomach, you grip his hair, getting him to pause. Normally you’d never turn down his mouth on you, god knows he was good with it. But you needed him, you were aching in a way you didn’t know you could. “Joel please, need you”
He groans at your breathless plea. Immediately obliging, his own patience wearing thin. “Wanted to take my time sweetheart, makin’ it impossible” He rasps as he takes off his pants, discarding them onto the floor somewhere. You catch the sight of him, thick and heavy, because of cause he wasn’t wearing boxers to bed.
You feel him, warm and throbbing as he runs his length along your core. You hear the faintest whimper escape his lips. Then you feel the thickness of his tip pressing its way in. You bite your lip, you still haven’t quite gotten used to his size yet.
He starts nice and slow, stilling when he bottoms out. Letting you breathe into it, settling into the feeling. Your arms loop around his neck, looking up at him. His eyes settle on yours with a warm smile. “Love bein’ inside of you, always feel like heaven”. You hadn't had someone compliment you so much in bed before him, it always made you blush. “You always feel perfect too, feel so full” you let out, a little breathless.
He starts to move, slow steady strokes. You sigh into the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut. The pace making you arch into every movement, craving more. He reaches down, his thumb gently brushing along your clit as he keeps moving nice and slow.
The leisurely pace of both his thumb and his hips build this deep pleasure in your gut. Like a slow flood instead of a tidal wave. Every time you feel like you're getting close the pleasure keeps getting more and more intense. Like the goalpost keeps moving, you let out a pathetic pouty whine. Squirming and getting impatient. “Patience baby, wanna savour you”. He leans down to soothe you with a press of his lips to your cheek. “Here let me turn you over” His voice soft and breathless. His big hands guiding you onto your stomach, slipping a pillow under your hips.
You feel him enter again. This angle you feel all of him and it makes you gasp. You feel him lean over you, his warm front pressing against your back. He starts moving again, this time deeper. A sharp punishing thrust into you, with a slow withdraw. Letting himself drag over every sensitive spot inside. Prodding on the way in sending pleasure zipping up your spine, and prolonging it with each leisurely drag out. You can’t escape it, pleasure so devastating and consuming it squeezes the air out of your lungs, like he wrings out that soggy sponge by the kitchen sick.
You’re gasping, clutching at the sheets. You feel yourself start to drool onto the pillowcase, but you can't bring yourself to care. He’s kissing at the base of your skull, soft and warm when you feel the familiar coil start to constrict in your stomach. His own breathing ragged and littered with groans. Each thrust of his hips sending pulses of pleasure deep inside and making your clit throb like it was being touched too.
You’d never felt like you could come like this, just from a guy fucking into you, you’d always needed other stimulation too. But his skillful thrusts hitting spots inside you you’d never felt before with such a devastating precision, mixed with the way your clit was starting to graze against the soft cotton of the pillowcase propped underneath you as he began to speed up slightly made it impossible not to.
You finally snap, with a choked cry, muffled into the pillow. Your body trembling underneath his. It feels so deep, the waves of pleasure. The pleasure focused and pinpointed inside of you rather on the surface of you like you were used to. It makes your toes curl. He’s not far behind, his thrusts speeding up, panting in your ear as he lets go. You feel warmth flood you as you quiver through the aftershocks.
He slumps beside you, pulling you to his side. You laugh soft and tired, your cheek pressed to his chest now as you nestle in closer. He smiles down at you as his hand rakes through your hair. “Whats so funny darlin’?”
“Just didn't know I could come like that” you say, half amused and half in awe.
“Well did you like it?” he asks soft and curious. That makes you laugh again. You press a soft kiss to his chest.
‘I would never’ 🤨🤨🤨 mkayyyyyy load up the camera n get to rolling, the people need their couples content x
Prev
“Pleeeease."
“No. You said you wouldn't make me do that."
He hasn't budged an inch since you brought up the idea, still glaring at the bright red apron in your hands. You may have only been dating for a little while but you expected this response so you pull out the big guns.
“Well, I was gonna donate all the add revenue to charity and just thought a video with you in it would get loads more views but if you don’t want to I guess that’s fine."
You shrug your shoulders, hanging your head in disappointment so he doesn’t see you crack a smile. His eyes narrow further, his expression conveying how betrayed he feels.
“Despicable."
And so, two hours before the fifteenth of February, a video is uploaded onto your channel with the title “Baking a Valentine's cake with my boyfriend for charity!"
The thumbnail shows a very excited you with your Batman apron on, standing in your tiny kitchen next to a stone faced Damian wearing the bright red apron you bought him that says “Kiss the cook"
The video starts with you tying Damian's apron behind his back while the camera catches every inch of doubt on his face.
“This is what they call a hard launch."
“What does that mean?"
Instead of answering you clap your hands together and face the camera.
“Hello, everybody! Welcome to the Valentine's day special!"
Even if he is the son of a famous person, you know very well that it can be uncomfortable being in front of a camera at first so you take the reigns mostly, explaining what the video's going to be while he tries not to look awkward.
“And as a bonus this video is a fundraiser for the...”
You gesture towards him and he speaks to the camera, very serious looking.
“The Gotham Medical Institute."
“Which means if you don't like and share, you hate hospital patients and advancements in medicine."
He huffs in amusement and you open the cook book he gave you to the right page, calling out ingredients to him and he answers with a simple, “check." confirming you have all you need.
“Okay, you do the liquids, I'll do the dries."
The first few steps were actually a pretty genuine attempt at making a decent cake. You worked side by side, pouring, measuring and stirring. You did almost pour the batter into the cake tin without buttering it first, but other than that, it went pretty smoothly.
You lick the batter off your finger in between telling him the time and temperature as he carefully places the cake in the oven.
“Now the fun part."
You waste no time getting everything ready to prepare the frosting.
“I thought we were having fun."
His genuine tone elicits a laugh from you as you drop some red food colouring in a bowl of buttercream. You hand it to him and drop some black food colouring into another bowl. He stops his stirring when he notices,
“Why black?"
“So I can put Batman on the cake, obviously."
He scoffs, giving you a dramatic eye roll.
“They're gonna cancel you for not supporting my interests."
“It's a Valentine's cake."
“And I love Batman so he's on the Valentine's cake."
He looks away, still stirring his pinkish buttercream. Mumbling something about staining your mouth black as you swipe up a huge dollop of icing and stick it in your mouth.
“You can put Robin on the cake too if you want. I know you like him a lot."
“I don't."
You swipe up some black icing off the rim of your bowl, licking it off your thumb.
“I'm not jealous, Babe. I think he's cool too…not as cool as Red Robin but he's pretty cool."
God, how will he explain any of this to his family when they inevitably see it? You both stir your icing until the colours show nicely and Damian places both bowls in the fridge while you shrug at the camera.
“Well, now we just wait for the cake to bake…I guess."
After that there's a cut to the Sponge Bob narrator voice saying, “Forty minutes later." Before cutting back to Damian with his back to the camera as he carefully takes the cooled down cake out of the oven. You fiddle with your rolled up sleeves, not looking at the camera.
When Damian turns you can't control the snort that leaves you when you see his mouth, stained a very slight purplish-black colour. You're sure no one will notice, and if they do they'll probably just assume he had some of the icing and not anything more…salacious.
“Careful….careful!"
Damian gives you a nasty side eye as he very carefully cuts the cake in half hamburger style to give it two layers.
You place a generous amount of cream on the first layer, stepping back proudly to let him gently place the second layer on top.
“Do you think Batman's favourite cake is fruit cake…because he's a Bat?"
“It could be, Belov-."
He coughs into his hand, and you try not to snicker at him almost showing affection on camera. While he smooths down a base layer of icing on the cake, you grab a piping bag and stuff some black icing inside.
“Okay, so do you want to do Batman or Batman and Robin?"
He tries to think which option would be less embarrassing, a rather futile exercise.
“Just Batman is fine."
With a little hesitation, you pipe down the iconic silhouette of the caped crusader's spiked ears. Your face is fill of concentration as you fill in the outline with piped lines. Damian leans against the kitchen table silently, eyes never leaving your face. He blinks slowly, resting his head on his shoulder, just watching you work.
“Can you get the white icing ready?"
You're still concentrating on finishing your lines but when you see from your peripheral that he doesn't move an inch, you give him a confused look.
“Damian?"
He jolts a little, knocking the piping bag off the counter and cursing before picking it up. You try not to laugh at his tinted cheeks, smoothing down your lines with a flat spatula so it looks cleaner.
“Ok, your turn. Do the eyes and mouth."
He carefully leans over the cake, using all his precision to pipe down two scowling eyes and the opening of his father's cowl. He draws the outline of a nose and some highlights as well.
“Wow, you don't even need a reference?"
You lean in distractingly close, watching him pipe his thin lines in awe.
“Isn't this just so romantic, Chat?"
“Who's Chat?"
“Don't worry about it, Babe."
You pat him on the back and he clicks his tongue at the stupid term of affection he swears he hates.
He pipes down some flower swirls on the outer rim of the cake with a bigger nozzle, you pull out some cut strawberries from the fridge and plop them down around the outside of the cake before stepping back and dusting of your hands.
“Aw wow, you did a really good job."
He shrugs, his hands on his hips, assessing his work.
“It's so clean and you even mixed the back and white to make grey shading! And all from memory? I kinda don't want to eat it now.”
Damian starts placing dishes in the sink so he doesn't have to face your praise head on or in front of a camera.
“Thank you, but If you don't eat it then it'll be a waste."
You pull your camera off it's stand to show your audience a better view of your Batman themed Valentine's day cake or maybe your Valentine's themed Batman cake?
“Not if it's for charity! Comment if you'd subscribe to an art channel with talented work like this cause I've been telling him he should start one."
You then turn the camera on yourself, Damian in the background filling the sink with water.
“Thanks for watching and supporting! Happy Valentine's day!"
You wave the camera and Damian gives a small wave as well, even though it looks like it pains him to do so. You stop the recording and place your camera on the table, tip toeing up behind your boyfriend to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you. I appreciate it.“
“It wasn't unbearable."
Water splashes as he runs a sponge over one of the bowls turning the water a reddish-pink.
“Oh, really?"
"Don't get any ideas.“
You snicker evilly, skulking away to your room with your camera.
“That's my secret....I always have ideas."
"I don't understand your references."
---
You spent a little over an hour editing the video so you could post it before Valentine's day is over, a stupid time limit only you put on yourself.
When you finally walked out of your room and found him reading on your couch waiting for you, you crawled into his lap, ate a slice of cake he offered you and then passed out on top of him.
He doesn't care much for the holiday but he's still happy that his first Valentine's with you was successful at least. The serene moment is ruined by multiple notification sounds coming from his phone. He sighs, closing his eyes to enjoy some peace for a little longer before picking up his phone and opening the family group chat.
Stephanie: OHMYGOD DAMIAN'S DATING MY FAVORITE YOUTUBER?!?!
Cassandra: 😱💀🤭
Dick: You're fucking kidding.
Father: Language, Dick.
Duke: You guys look so cute. Good for you dude!👍🏿
Dick: How did this happen? How long? Did you guys know? Does she know? How are you going to tell her?
Todd: Dickie's losing it.
Timothy: She has great taste I see.
Father: Invite her to dinner, Damian.
Cassandra: I liked and shared the video and I also think you should do an art channel :)
Timothy: You could not have picked a funnier person to date man lmao.
Father: Did you tell your girlfriend that Batman is a bat monster?
Todd: 💀💀💀
Father: Damian? Why does she think that?
Messages keep coming through but he shuts his phone off, leaving it on the coffee table. He rests his arms around you, pulling your dead weight closer. He can deal with everything else tomorrow but for now all he wants to focus on is your slow breathes and the smell of your shampoo.
