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voyter · 8 months ago

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NO NUT NOVEMBER ⋆ 정국 !

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.

⟡₊ ⊹ THANKSGIVING SPECIAL !

word count. 8.9k words warnings. stupid fucking nnn challenge. JUNGKOOK IS SOOO DRAMATIC IN THIS OML. competitive koo. oc being petty as fuck. oc a brat hehe. jungkook cannot lie to save his life. he fighting demons in his head. needy koo. slight crack. smut. oral (fem!receiving). MUNCH JK. dry humping. blindfolding (very brief lasts like five seconds). koo loves her boobies. unprotected sex. dom!jk (i dont usually like writing him like this but i didnt hate it).

ana's notes. happy (very late) thanksgiving !!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT. this was supposed to be posted after thanksgiving but i got so busy and then the writers block crept up on me :\ .. ANYWAYS i am so grateful for you guys and the support you have shown for my writing, it means a lot since this is a hobby that i love. heres a little silly smutty fic for the holidays !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all <3

There was this utterly ridiculous trend that resurfaced on the internet like clockwork every year — No Nut November.

The viral phenomenon was a joke. Honestly, who in their right mind would actually take part in such a thing?

Well... Jungkook and his friends would.

Never ones to back down from a challenge, they had turned the trend into a full-blown competition: the last man standing would walk away with a cash prize collected from everyone who failed. And Jungkook? He wasn’t about to lose. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.

It wasn’t like he needed the money. Jungkook was doing just fine in that department, thank you very much. But the satisfaction of watching his friends begrudgingly hand over their hard earned cash, faces red with defeat? Fucking priceless. Count him in.

Unbeknownst to you, the bet was in full effect. Therefore, in preparation for what promised to be a painfully unfulfilling month, Jungkook made the most of Halloween night. His desire was overwhelming as he pulled you into his arms again and again. By the time you were both utterly spent, he’d taken you three times — round after relentless round, ensuring he had no regrets before the clock struck midnight.

It was all part of his plan: to have you as many times as he possibly could before November hit and he couldn’t have you at all. He was dead serious about this challenge. Winning was secondary — what mattered most was that he didn’t lose.

By the first week of November — just five days in — Jungkook had been doing surprisingly well. His restraint was impressive, and he’d managed to keep his touches brief and calculated. The physical contact between you two had been limited to sweet, innocent moments: the kisses you shared when he left and came home from work, the soft pecks exchanged before falling asleep, or the comforting warmth of cuddling. None of it lingered too long, and Jungkook was acutely aware of how easily even the smallest touch could spiral into something much harder to resist.

But Jungkook’s plan didn’t seem to work so well after all. As the week drew closer to its end, you began to get eager.

Your arms would wrap around his waist from behind, your chest pressing against his back as you left featherlight kisses against the nape of his neck. Each one sent a shiver down his spine, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. Your fingers trailed along his arms and shoulders a little longer than usual, like they couldn’t bear to part from him. When you kissed him, your lips lingered just a second too long, brushing against his with a softness that made his heart pound and his resolve crumble.

And Jungkook — poor, stubborn Jungkook — felt the strain of holding himself back with every passing moment.

The tension in his body was unmistakable. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, as if anchoring himself in place was the only way to resist you. But it was getting harder. Your every move — a tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers, the soft hum of your laughter — was a calculated test of his willpower.

There were times where his thumb hovered over the group chat. His mind screamed at him to type out the words, to admit defeat, to let it all go so he could have you the way he so desperately craved.

But he didn’t.

He kept his composure, though it was a battle he felt he was losing by the second. Temptation clung to him like a warm, enticing embrace, your every move a test of his self control. You were irresistible, and he knew it. Hell, even the fucking dickwad of a neighbor — the one who always found a reason to greet you while mugging Jungkook — knew it. But as much as he wanted to give in, Jungkook had to tread carefully. Ignoring you completely would be suspicious, and pulling away would be totally out of character. You’d see right through him.

So he found a fine line to walk, a delicate balance: giving you just enough to keep you satisfied while keeping his own burning desires tightly in check. A heated makeout session here, his hand squeezing your ass there — little gestures that made everything feel normal. Just enough to keep you from noticing anything was off, but never enough to let things spiral out of control.

The thought of explaining the ridiculous bet to you was out of the question — he wasn’t about to tell you he’d willingly signed up to not get his cock wet for a whole month. So instead, he silently resolved to endure.

It wasn’t easy. Hell, it was torture. But the thought of losing to his friends? That was even worse. Their smug faces, the relentless teasing — it was unthinkable. Jungkook would rather give himself the worst case of blue balls imaginable than admit defeat.

But just as the next week was about to begin, Jungkook’s willpower met its match.

At night, Jungkook stuck to his usual routine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and climbed into bed. He scrolled aimlessly through his TikTok for you page, waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and join him. It was the same comforting ritual as always.

Usually, when you slipped into bed, he’d put his phone down immediately. Without a word, he’d shift closer, press his chest to your back, tangle your legs together, and throw a protective arm over your waist. It was an unspoken rhythm you both loved, the closeness of his warmth pulling you both into peaceful sleep.

But tonight, something felt different.

It had been a long week — too long. You hadn’t had him, hadn’t felt his touch, hadn’t been able to drown in the comfort of him. And tonight, the ache of missing him was unbearable. You needed him, desperately.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft light from the lamp illuminated him sprawled across the bed. His focus was on his phone, completely oblivious to you — but your attention was elsewhere.

The thin material of his sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his cock, pressing firmly against the fabric as he lay there in complete ease. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked.

And just like that, the last of your restraint snapped.

You didn’t even try to play coy. Not tonight. Not when every fiber of your being screamed for him, for his touch, for his warmth.

You crawled onto the bed with purpose, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Jungkook tensed beneath you, his phone slipping from his hand onto the mattress. His dark eyes met yours, wide with surprise, but the second your lips captured his, you felt him relax into the kiss.

It didn’t take long for your lips to wander. From his mouth to his jaw, each kiss slower and deeper than the last. That’s when he knew.

This wasn’t going to end with a few kisses.

“It’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice breathy, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your lips trailing down his neck, suckling gently at the spot you knew made him shudder.

“We should go to sleep,” he tried again, though his words sounded more like a plea than an order.

“Don’t wanna,” you whispered against his skin, your hand sliding down between your bodies, cupping the hardening length beneath his sweatpants.

The guttural moan that tore from his lips was instant, raw, and uncontrollable. His reaction was visceral, his hands flying to your hips to still you, but it was too late. That single touch had ignited something primal in him.

With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto your back, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them firmly above your head.

“Why do you never listen to me?” he said through clenched teeth. His frustration of trying to compose his restraint thinning. Why won’t you let him win? His face was so close to yours that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips.

“Love pissing you off,” you shot back, your grin wicked as your eyes gleamed with mischief. You tilted your head slightly, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “Makes me wet.”

“Brat,” he spat. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, his jaw clenching as if holding himself back took everything he had.

To you, it was all in good fun — a playful game, harmless teasing. But to Jungkook? It was sweet, unrelenting torment. Every kiss you pressed to his skin, every soft laugh that spilled from your lips, and every calculated touch you offered worked to chip away at his resolve, unraveling him one agonizing piece at a time.

He wanted to be strong, to resist, to uphold his own ridiculous self imposed boundaries. But how could he? How could he lay down beside you and simply go to sleep when your every movement, every sound, every look begged him to surrender? His body betrayed him first, drawn to you like a magnet, unable to keep his distance. The tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch of his breath every time you touched him — it all screamed of a man teetering on the edge of self control.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, taking in the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts innocent and dangerous. He hated how much you affected him, but at the same time, he craved it. Every fiber of his being ached for you — your warmth, your softness, the way you felt against him. He knew he was doomed the second you whispered his name, voice laced with need.

Giving in wasn’t just inevitable; it was everything he wanted. And as much as he’d tried to fight it, there was no denying you. Not now, not ever.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice raw, laced with a pain so desperate it borders on pitiful. His head drops, forehead pressing against your sternum, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. It’s as if he’s trying to ground himself, clinging to the fragile threads of control slipping through his fingers.

For a moment, he stays there, his breath warm against your skin, his body taut with tension. Then, slowly, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze with eyes darkened by lust and want, swirling with a need so intense it makes your stomach all jittery. His cheeks are flushed, the faintest rosy tint blooming across his face and staining the tips of his ears. He looks utterly undone, vulnerable in a way that steals the air from your lungs.

Before he could think twice, his lips crashed against yours in a feverish kiss, devouring you like you were his favorite candy — sweet, irresistible, and utterly addictive. He poured everything into that kiss, every ounce of frustration and need, as if losing himself in you was the only thing that mattered.

His lips began to trail south, brushing along the curve of your jaw before dipping down to the sensitive hollow of your neck. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat on your skin, and your breath hitched, a soft sound that sent a rush of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt — no, his shirt. You always stole his shirts for bed, and as much as he teased you about it, he loved seeing you in them.

He pulled the fabric up, lifting it just beneath your chin and exposing your bare chest. Your breasts, freed from the confines of the shirt, bounced softly back into place, and Jungkook’s breath caught. His dark eyes locked onto the sight, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently, pushing them together as if appreciating every inch of you.

Unable to stop himself, he buried his face in the softness, his nose stuffed in between your tits, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Kook!” you giggled, your voice light and teasing, pulling him back just slightly from the haze of his desire. Your hands reached down, cupping his face and tilting it upward until his eyes met yours.

“Prettiest titties ever,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to one breast, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your lips curved into a warm smile, and your thumb traced softly over the scar on the apple of his cheek. The tender moment was fleeting, though, as Jungkook’s mouth found its way to your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, drawing a sharp wave of pleasure through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying — and failing — to stifle the moan that bubbled in your throat.

Your hands moved instinctively, brushing back the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Your touch was soft, almost reverent, as you gazed down at him. The sight of Jungkook — cheeks flushed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he lost himself in you, his lips tugging gently at your sensitive flesh — made your heart race and your body ache with want.

He let out a low hum against your skin, the vibration sending a delicious shiver cascading down your spine. His tongue swirled around your nipple with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. His focus was unrelenting, his attention on you so singular it made your toes curl. The warmth of his saliva mixed with the heat of your skin, creating a sensation that was utterly intoxicating.

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tugging gently at his raven hair, earning a soft groan from him in response. Jungkook didn’t stop, his lips worshiping you like you were the only thing that mattered.

But as his mouth continued its ministrations, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the ache building in him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard and straining against his sweats, begging for relief. The urge to push everything aside and lose himself in you was overwhelming.

Maybe he could lose. Maybe he could just not tell them.

No. That wasn’t fair, and Jungkook hated lying — especially to his best friends.

But fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him.

With your pretty, soft boobs. Your sweet, irresistible lips. The way you tasted, the way you sounded.

He released your nipple with an audible pop, leaving your skin glistening and flushed from his attention. His lips lingered, warm and damp, as if tethered by an invisible string, reluctant to part. Then, slowly, he began his descent, tracing a line of soft, deliberate kisses down your stomach. Each press of his lips was unhurried, almost worshipful, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as anticipation tightened in your core.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his movements paused. His lips hovered just above the fabric, warm breath teasing your skin. He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark with want, as if searching your face for permission to continue. The moment felt suspended, heavy with tension, before he shifted his attention lower, redirecting his kisses to the delicate, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

His pace was maddening, each kiss a whisper against your skin, igniting every nerve and sending shivers rippling through you. His lips barely grazed you, his touch so featherlight it felt almost cruel, building the pressure inside you until it was nearly unbearable.

Then he saw it. The damp patch on your panties. His movements stilled for a moment, the sight pulling a soft moan from his lips, thick with need.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, as if meant more for himself than for you. His voice was strained, low and raw, betraying the war raging inside him.

You were blissfully unaware of the full weight of his internal struggle, the impossible battle between his ironclad resolve and the magnetic pull of you beneath him. But for Jungkook, this wasn’t just lust; it was a consuming craving, threatening to shatter the very challenge he'd sworn to uphold.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his touch firm yet tantalizingly gentle as he began to slide them down your thighs. The soft fabric dragged against your skin with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When the panties finally slipped off and landed somewhere forgotten on the floor, his gaze dropped to the apex of your thighs, and a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.

Your pussy glistened in the dim light, your slick coating your folds, the evidence of your desire laid bare before him. Jungkook's tongue darted out to wet his lips as impatience flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he leaned in, starting with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste of you like a man starving.

Your breath hitched, a shudder racing through you as you glanced down at him. His dark eyes locked with yours for a brief, smoldering moment before he closed his lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently yet firmly.

A moan tore from your throat as your head tipped back, your fingers instinctively finding one of your breasts. You cupped the soft mound, your palm pressing into the supple flesh. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, sinful noises of his tongue working you over.

Jungkook's hand shot up, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist as he yanked it away from your breast. He possessively replaced your hand with his own. His large, tattooed hand cupped your tit, kneading the soft flesh with a firm yet reverent touch.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your slick, and his heated gaze met yours. Without a word, his free hand slid down, his middle and ring fingers gliding through your folds with expert precision. He paused for a moment, his fingers coated in your arousal, before pressing them slowly inside you.

Your breath hitched at the delicious stretch, your sopping wet heat greedily sucking him in with ease. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he watched your body respond to his touch.

“So fucking wet," he whispered, voice thick with lust. His fingers curled slightly, stroking your walls with an unrelenting precision that had your thighs trembling.

Jungkook leaned back down, his lips latching onto your clit with a hunger that made your thighs quiver. He sucked and flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the wet, rhythmic sounds driving you wild. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, the steady, deliberate pace sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

His other hand stayed on your breast, groping and kneading with a firm possessiveness that left you aching for more. His thumb brushed over your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

He was everywhere — on you, in you, surrounding you. The intensity of his touch, his mouth, and his presence consumed you entirely, leaving you trembling under him as he worked your body like he was born to do it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling heat low in your belly threatening to snap as he devoured you like a man obsessed.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice trembling, raw with need as your fingers twist into the sheets beneath you. “G- gonna cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down or falter. If anything, your words fuel him, igniting something feral inside him. He needs this — needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue, to taste every shiver and moan you can give him before he has to deny you for the rest of this painfully long month.

A low hum vibrates against your clit, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your body arching instinctively toward him. His tongue moves faster now, precise and unrelenting, flicking and circling as if the very act is his lifeline.

His fingers thrust into you, curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your vision blur. The rhythm is perfect, practiced, like he’s mapping your body by memory, knowing exactly how to coax you to the edge.

Another hum escapes his throat, deeper this time, resonating against you with an intensity that feels almost like a plea — an unspoken command for you to let go, to surrender completely to the pressure building inside you.

And with each stroke of his tongue and every curl of his fingers, he pushes you closer, until you’re teetering on the brink, your body burning with the promise of release.

His hand on your breast squeezes more firmly, his thumb flicking and pinching your nipple with just the right pressure, as if he knows exactly how to push you over the edge. Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist, your nails digging into his skin, while your other hand fists the sheets desperately.

Your head tips back, lips parting in a silent, breathless moan as the tension inside you finally snaps. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, trembling as your release crashes over you in wave after blissful wave.

Your body shakes beneath him, overcome by the force of your orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His mouth continues its sinful work on your clit, sucking and licking with unrelenting precision, while his fingers maintain their steady thrusts.

Despite the painful, throbbing ache of his cock, Jungkook finds a twisted kind of satisfaction in giving you pleasure. The way your body arches, the sounds you make, the way your nails dig into the sheets — it’s intoxicating. It fuels him, spurring him on as though your ecstasy alone is enough to soothe his own torment.

He doesn’t want to stop. Not when you’re trembling beneath him, your body so responsive to his every touch. But there’s a limit to how much you can take, and he knows it. As much as he loves pushing you to the edge, watching as you surrender completely to him, overstimulation begins to creep in, your soft whimpers turning into desperate little gasps.

Still, there’s a reluctance in him, a battle between the unyielding need to give you more and the understanding that your body can only handle so much. Even as you writhe beneath him, pleading for reprieve, there’s a part of him that aches to keep going, to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer.

But he’s Jungkook, and if there’s one thing he values more than his own desires, it’s you. The sight of you trembling, your chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath, tugs at something deeper within him. He takes a deep breath, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, and finally, he pulls back.

His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, a sinful testament to his devotion. He doesn’t bother wiping it away; instead, he leans over you, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction as they roam your flushed face.

“Munch,” you giggle, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers brush his hair back from his forehead.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, scrunching his nose in playful protest. His pretty bunny-like teeth peek out in a smile so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat.

Unable to resist, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your tongue brushes against his, exploring him as the taste of you still lingers on his lips. The kiss grows deeper, more heated, and you feel his hard-on pressing insistently against your thigh.

Without a second thought, your hand slides down, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating between you.

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, breaking the kiss as he pulls away, the warmth of his lip still lingering on yours. He stands, his movements abrupt, leaving you breathless on the bed. His lips, swollen and glistening faintly in the dim light, speak to the intensity of your embrace, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. Instead, it darts away, like a guilty child caught red-handed. He scratches the back of his head, his posture stiff as he moves toward the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna go shower,” he blurts out, the tension in his voice betraying his attempt at casualness.

Shower? Now? Really? His dick is literally straining against his sweats, the outline unmistakable, practically begging for attention. You can still feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way he twitched beneath you just moments ago.

He’s not serious. There’s absolutely no fucking way.

“What?” Genuine confusion coats your tone, your brows furrowed. “You always shower in the mornings.”

“I- I know, baby,” he stammers, his pitch climbing an octave as his composure unravels faster than a poorly wrapped gift. Panic flashes in his wide eyes, and his mouth hangs open, grasping for an excuse he clearly doesn’t have.

“Then what’s wrong?” you ask, your softer now, a thread of worry weaving through your tone. You sit up, the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him slipping down your chest, covering your boobs he wished he could stare at for just a second longer. “Is something going on?”

“I-” His eyes dart around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “I’m just tired.”

Your brow arches, skepticism written all over your face. “Tired?” you echo, your face scrunching in disbelief. “You’ve never not wanted to have sex.”

Jungkook visibly winces, his ears turning a bright shade of red. Rising from the bed like it might help, he sits at the edge, his hand nervously brushing your shin. “I- I had a long day at work.”

You tilt your head. “But you love having sex after a long day,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion. “Jungkook, seriously… what’s wrong?”

He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, his lips parting in silent panic. “Nothing!” he squeaks, his voice cracking.

You lean closer, your suspicion mounting. “Well it’s clearly something! Do I not smell good?”

His head whips toward you, his face a mixture of offense and horror. “What? You smell amazing!” he practically yells, his voice high-pitched. “Honey, I could eat you all day if you’d let me!”

“Then why are you running off like this?”

“I’m not running!” he protests, though the crack in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just- uh- need to clear my head!”

“Clear your head?” you ask, squinting at him. “From what?”

“All the thinking I’ve been doing!” he exclaims, clearly grasping at straws. “It’s... exhausting.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

His mouth opens, but words fail him. After a moment of floundering, he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles, his voice muffled behind his palms.

“And you’re a terrible liar,” you fire back. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”

He exhales deeply, dragging his hands down his face in defeat before clasping them together in front of him as if in prayer. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m trying so hard right now,” he mutters finally, his voice low and desperate, “and you’re not making it easy.”

“Trying hard to what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“To not combust right now!” he exclaims, his voice rough with need. His eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You’re killing me, babe. Just... let me shower first, and then let’s just have a good night, okay?” His breath hitches, barely able to keep his composure as he watches you, a mixture of desperation and affection in his gaze.

You blink at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to piece together his words. Before you can say anything, he kisses you once more, the movement rushed and almost sheepish.

“Go to bed, honey,” he says, practically bolting for the bathroom. “I love you!”

The door shut behind him with a sharp, decisive click, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning. It was jarring — Jungkook never locked the door. There was no reason to; it was just the two of you living together, no one else to intrude. The realization sank in quickly, a bitter confirmation that this time, he was actively shutting you out, trying to keep you from coming in and uncovering whatever was weighing on him. You sat there, frozen, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

Whatever it was, one thing was clear — you weren’t letting this slide. You were going to figure out what was going on with your boyfriend if it was the last thing you did.

After that night, you kept your distance.

Jungkook hated it. He hated the silence, the lack of your warmth, the way you avoided his touch. But he couldn’t blame you. He knew he was the root of the problem — he had fucked up that night. He should’ve been smoother, handled it better, but he completely blew it. Jungkook was good at many things. Lying was not one of them.

For a few days, you gave him the silent treatment. When he leaned in for a kiss before heading to work, you turned your face, leaving him with nothing but a peck on your cheek. The lack of communication was agonizing, eating away at him every time he caught your cold glances. But you were petty as fuck, and he knew it. You weren’t about to kiss his ass — not when it was obvious he’d lied to you that night. If he didn’t want to talk to you, then you weren’t going to talk to him.

When you were alone — at work, lying in bed, or just lost in thought — your mind spiraled. What could he possibly be hiding? The thought haunted you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. Was he cheating on you? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. Your Jungkook would never… or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. But his strange behavior, the evasiveness, planted seeds of doubt you couldn’t ignore. The very thought made you feel sick to your stomach, but the ache of curiosity refused to leave you alone.

You needed answers. And if Jungkook wasn’t going to give them to you, you decided to go to the one person who knew him best.

you [3:15 pm]: what is wrong with my boyfriend ??

jimin [3:17 pm]: That sounds like a question you should be asking your boyfriend, don't you think?

you [3:17 pm]: I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING.

jimin [3:18 pm]: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???

you [3:18 pm]: whats her name

jimin [3:18 pm]: Who??

you [3:19 pm]: HIS SIDE BITCH

jimin [3:19 pm]: GIRL WHAT

jimin [3:19 pm]: You think he’s cheating on you?

you [3:23 pm]: is he ?? just tell me so i can save myself the humiliation pls

jimin [3:23 pm]: Bro no he would never

jimin [3:23 pm]: I’d chop his dick off and then kill the girl if he did

jimin [3:23 pm]: What makes you even think that in the first place?

you [3:24 pm]: hes acting weirdddd :(

you [3:24 pm]: i was trying to fuck him a few nights ago but he wouldnt let me touch him

jimin [3:25 pm]: First of all ew

jimin [3:25 pm]: Second of all

you [3:28 pm]: SECOND OF ALL ????

jimin [3:30 pm]: 😂😂😂

If you weren’t pissed at Jungkook before, you definitely were now.

After talking to Jimin, you finally learned the truth about the challenge. It wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had hidden it from you that irritated you most — it was the challenge itself and his ridiculous competitive spirit. Why did he have to be such a sore loser?

According to Jimin, five of the seven participants had already been knocked out. Seokjin and Yoongi, being married men, didn’t stand a chance — they were bound to lose. Namjoon, like Jungkook, was in a committed relationship, but unlike him, Namjoon had the good sense not to put himself through that kind of pain just to preserve his pride. Hoseok and Taehyung? They were notorious party addicts — losing was inevitable for them.

Now, it was down to just Jungkook and Jimin. And, of course, Jungkook’s competitive streak wouldn’t let him back down, no matter how ridiculous the stakes were. The thought made your blood boil. How could he have dragged himself — and by extension, you — into this mess?

You didn’t confront Jungkook about what you’d learned from Jimin, though you did drop the silent treatment act. Instead, you decided to take a different approach — one far more devious than simply ignoring him.

Even with the heater running, the November chill still lingered in the air, but it didn’t stop you from dressing provocatively around the apartment. You roamed in short shorts, sometimes just your underwear, paired with a silk camisole that left little to the imagination. The thin fabric did nothing to hide your hard nipples, which poked against the material as you moved about. Jungkook would notice, of course — he’d grope your ass or give you a quick kiss goodbye before heading to work — but that was it.

When he was away, whether at work or hanging out with his friends, you upped the ante. You sent him pictures of yourself in matching lingerie sets, always in his favorite color, knowing how much he loved them. Sometimes you sent something more daring — nudes that left nothing to the imagination. Usually, those photos had him texting back immediately, promising to deal with you as soon as he got home.

But this time, his responses were different. Short. Terse. Instead of giving in, he’d simply tell you to stop.

Frustration boiled over each time you read his dismissive replies. You groaned and threw your phone onto the bed in defeat. Why wouldn’t he just give in already? You wanted him so badly, and you refused to even touch yourself because what you craved was him — his hands, his mouth, his dick.

If teasing him over the phone wasn’t working, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. One night, when you heard the shower running, you didn’t hesitate. Stripping off your clothes, you quietly stepped into the bathroom. The steam swirled around you as you opened the shower door and stepped in.

Jungkook froze the moment he saw you. His wide eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering on your curves as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving as his restraint wavered. Then, with a groan of frustration, he threw his head back against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the temptation in front of him.

Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in.

Despite his impressive self-control, his body betrayed him. His cock stood stiff and proud between you, a silent plea for attention. But no matter how much you pressed closer, your skin grazing his, or how boldly you touched yourself in front of him, he didn’t break.

With a stoic determination that only fueled your frustration, he focused on washing off, his movements precise and distant, as though ignoring the tension hanging thick in the air. And just when you hoped he’d finally push past his limits, he’d step out of the shower, leaving you behind in the steam, your desire unfulfilled.

It was maddening. Teasing him was supposed to work — it always worked. And while you were determined to push him until he snapped, you had to admit, his composure was far better than you’d anticipated.

It was just days before Thanksgiving, which meant this painfully long month was finally nearing its end. But you were done waiting. Done teasing. The ache in your body had grown unbearable, a constant, gnawing need for him that no amount of patience could soothe.

You were going to have him tonight, or you were going to actually die.

Jungkook had a day off tomorrow, so he was sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in his Nintendo game. His focus was unwavering, his brows furrowed in concentration as the soft clicks of the buttons filled the room.

Dressed in a matching lacy black set that left little to the imagination, you moved silently behind him, your determination unwavering. Gently, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, your fingertips tracing soft patterns over the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance up, much too engrossed in the virtual world on his screen.

But then you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. The soft, teasing kisses trailed along his skin, featherlight yet deliberate, leaving a warm path behind. You felt the slightest hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that despite his effort to remain focused, you were beginning to unravel him.

His eyes fluttered shut, his focus on the game completely shattered as his head tipped to the side, exposing more of his neck to your eager lips. His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping him, each exhale laced with a vulnerability you rarely saw.

“Baby…” he moaned breathily, his voice low and strained, warning you.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your voice was soft, commanding, and it sent a shiver rippling through him. You felt his resolve beginning to crack, the tension in his body shifting as your hands slid down, teasing the line between tenderness and temptation.

Pulling away, you reached for the tie you had stolen from his drawer earlier. With a deliberate slowness, you brought it up to his eyes, slipping it over and covering his vision.

“What-” he began, his voice tinged with confusion as his hands instinctively moved to stop you.

But you were quicker, gripping his wrists to still him. Leaning in close, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I know about your stupid challenge, Jungkook.”

His body tensed beneath you, the air between you heavy with tension. His breaths came uneven now, a mixture of guilt, surprise, and something else simmering just beneath the surface.

“Let me explain-” he started, his voice edged with desperation.

“No,” you cut him off, your tone firm but quiet. “It’s too late for that now.”

You secured the tie around his eyes, knotting it with careful precision. The soft fabric sat snugly against his skin, cloaking his vision completely. His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself, seemingly caught between resisting and surrendering to whatever you had planned.

Rounding the couch, you reached down and plucked the device from his hands, setting it aside on the coffee table without a second thought. His body went rigid beneath you, his breath hitching as you settled in. The unmistakable hardness of his cock pressed against you, igniting a spark of satisfaction that curled your lips into a smirk. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips against his in steady, purposeful motions, grinding into him just enough to draw a reaction.

“Do you know how much I missed you, Kook?” you murmured, your voice dripping with need as your lips hovered near his ear. “Missed your pretty cock… my fingers could never give me the satisfaction you do.”

His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver of his piercings glinting under the warm light, drawing your eyes like a magnet. That perfect little mole just beneath his lip was on full display, a teasing reminder of how irresistible he looked like this — teetering on the edge of control.

His lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped, the sound low and unrestrained. It sent a shiver straight through you. His hands, no longer hesitant, slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. Each roll of your hips against his was deliberate, his touch coaxing you to grind harder, deeper, until the friction was almost too much to bear.

You hooked a finger into the fabric covering his eyes, tugging it free with a teasing slowness. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, his vision gradually clearing — and then he saw you. Nothing but his favorite set of yours graced your body, clinging to your curves in all the right ways.

A low, breathless please escaped his lips, muttered more to himself than to you, as if trying desperately to maintain his composure. His eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away, a feeble attempt to resist you.

But you weren’t having that. Your hand shot out, firm but gentle, cupping his chin and turning his face back toward you. His eyes snapped open, dark and hungry, as you reached behind you, unclasping the delicate hook of your bra. The straps slipped from your arms, the fabric discarded behind you without a care.

Your hands came up, cupping your bare breasts, teasing yourself as his gaze darkened. His restraint frayed before your eyes as his hips bucked up into yours, seeking friction, a desperate need taking over. His jaw tightened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a clear sign of how much he craved you.

Those should be his hands, not yours.

His hand twitched, reaching out instinctively, but you caught his wrist, guiding it purposefully down your body. Your gaze never wavered from his, locking him in place as you slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, and his breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were. The slickness coated your plush lips, a testament to how badly you wanted him.

“Honey…” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless, teetering on the edge of control.

“Please, Kook,” you whispered, your tone laced with desperation. “Fuck me tonight, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s been weeks. Don’t you miss me as much as I miss you?”

Your plea hung between you, thick with need and longing. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle playing out in his dark eyes as his fingers twitched against you, his restraint unraveling with each passing second.

How was he supposed to get up and walk away with his cock straining painfully against his sweats, and you like this, laid out before him? His hand was still buried in your underwear, fingers sliding effortlessly over your slick folds, forming a V as they trailed up and found your clit. His jaw clenched at the way your body shuddered beneath his touch, the quiet moan slipping from your lips like a siren’s call.

And then there was you — your smaller hands kneading your soft, perfect tits, the ones he loved so much, the sight alone nearly undoing him. The way you whimpered, the way your body responded to him, had his restraint crumbling to dust.

This was it — his breaking point.

He didn’t care about the fucking challenge anymore. Nothing mattered except you.

It was like a switch flipped inside him. In a sudden, fluid motion, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you down on the couch. His broad frame hovered above you, the way you’d missed for so long. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t waste time. You were already soaked, your body more than ready for him. No need for extra preparation — he knew he’d slide right in. With one hand, he freed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, baring your pretty, dripping pussy. He couldn’t wait to get inside it. The flushed tip glistened, teasing your entrance for a heartbeat before he pressed forward, the head sinking in.

A sharp gasp escaped both your lips, the shared sensation so overwhelming it felt as if you were experiencing each other for the first time all over again. Jungkook moved slowly at first, his cock stretching you inch by inch, filling you with deliberate care. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he savored every moment, every inch of warmth he’d been denying himself for far too long.

But restraint wasn’t his strong suit tonight. The need coursing through him was too much to bear. His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with purpose. The wet, obscene sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room as his pelvis slapped against the back of your thighs. The steady rhythm of his thrusts deepened, each one more urgent than the last, driving both of you closer to the edge.

His upper body lifted off of you, and with a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his broad, muscular frame sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. He was absolutely stunning, every inch of him on display — his skin glowing under the dim light.

His arm was covered in intricate tattoos, the ink curling around his bicep like a story you wanted to read. His chest was thick and broad, with a layer of muscle that made your fingers itch to trace every curve. His arms were solid and meaty, a strength you could feel even from just looking at him.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved instinctively, running down the defined lines of his chest, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his stomach. His abs flexed beneath your touch, tense and firm, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of desire crashing through you. The simple touch made you want more, made you crave everything he had to offer.

But now it was Jungkook's turn to take control. With a swift motion, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he seized your other arm and pinned it above your head. The dominance in his touch was undeniable, and you knew exactly what that meant. He always did this when he wanted to take over, to remind you who was in charge.

His hands moved quickly, grabbing one of your legs and effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden shift, your body bent in half, your chest pressed against him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he studied you.

A small whimper escaped your lips at the stretch, your body not as flexible as you'd like, but that discomfort was fleeting. It quickly morphed into something else — pleasure, intense and consuming — as his brutal thrusts began again, filling you completely.

He was relentless, each movement pulling another gasp from you. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his voice low and laced with command. "You never listen to me, do you? Huh, you brat?" His words were a breathy growl, like a warning. "Just had to get fucked."

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Every inch of your body was alive with sensation, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. Instead, soft moans and breathless hums spilled from your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thrusts deepened, each one hitting you harder than the last.

Your body arched into him instinctively, eager to feel more, to give in to the rhythm he set. The tension was building, spiraling higher and higher with each movement, each sound leaving your mouth a mix of pleasure and need. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was making you feel, his hands and his body taking you exactly how he wanted.

"You made this so hard for me, baby." His voice was breathless, low and laced with desire as his thrusts didn’t falter. "Can’t resist you. Too fucking pretty to not touch." He spoke as though he couldn’t control himself, his words slipping out between harsh breaths, his hands gripping your body with barely restrained urgency.

“M’already so close, Kook,” you moaned, your voice shaky with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. The pressure inside you was building, so close to release, but you needed him to push you over the edge.

“Yeah?” His gaze darkened, his hips snapping into yours with even more force. “Show me. Let me feel you, please.” His words were more than a plea — they were a command, a desperate need for you to let go so he could feel every inch of your pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt you. He wants to feel you. Needs to feel you.

With each punishing thrust, your breasts bounce uncontrollably, catching Jungkook's undivided attention. His hooded eyes are glued to them, pupils blown wide with lust, as if he's seeing something so utterly captivating it leaves him in a trance. The way they move, the way your body responds to him — it’s driving him wild. His tongue flicks over his lips as he lets out a low groan, jaw tightening, the need to mark you overwhelming every coherent thought.

You gasp sharply, a broken moan escaping your lips as your orgasm slams into you with ferocious intensity. Your body arches off the couch, your hands still pinned above your head as waves of euphoria ripple through you. Your head tilts back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of your neck, and your chest heaves as you ride out the high.

Jungkook growls when he feels your walls clench down on him, the tight grip almost sending him over the edge. “Oh, yeah,” he rasps, voice rough and deep, his hips grinding against you. “That’s it. Just like that... so fucking good.”

But he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickens, the desperate need for his own release taking over. Each thrust is brutal, precise, and deliberate, as if he’s claiming every part of you, chasing that high he knows is just within reach. His grip on your hips is bruising, holding you in place as he slams into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.

Finally, with a strained groan, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing in his hand. He strokes himself hard, the sight of your trembling, sweat slick body beneath him sending him over the edge. His release comes in hot, thick ropes, splattering across your stomach and tits in messy, deliberate streaks.

He lets out a guttural moan, chest heaving as he watches his cum paint you like a masterpiece, dripping down your skin in glistening trails. His hand slows, and his eyes never leave the sight of you — glistening, marked, and utterly his.

Once he milks every last drop of his release, he does something that shouldn't be as devastatingly sexy as it is. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto yours with a feral intensity, he drags his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach, collecting his own cum. The heat of his mouth follows, traveling upward until he captures a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue with maddening precision.

You giggle, your face flushing with heat as he releases your nipple and makes his way up to your lips. The moment his mouth connects with yours, you taste his cum on his tongue, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss. He pulls back, resting his head on your chest with a contented sigh.

“Can’t believe you made me lose. I was so close,” he sulks, his voice laced with playful frustration.

“Jimin texted me. He gave in yesterday. You won,” you tease, your fingers softly running through his hair.

His head shoots up quickly, eyes wide like a dog hearing its name. “Seriously?”

You nod, giggling softly at his excitement.

Without warning, he stands up from the couch, pulling you with him. He scoops you up by your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You squeal, half-laughing, half-terrified, “What are you doing?!”

“Making up,” he grins, his voice low with promise as he strides toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

The door clicks shut behind you, the remnants of your clothes scattered haphazardly in the living room, and the night unfurls into a whirlwind of heated kisses and passion that sweeps you both away. Jungkook’s teasing words and touch keep you on edge, but it’s the way he makes you feel — desired, cherished, and completely consumed by him — that transforms the night into something unforgettable.

You knew that this Friendsgiving would be one for the books. Jungkook wasn’t going to let any of the guys forget it. Always the bragger, that one. He’d be sure to shove it in their faces every chance he got.

And he might have won the bet, but it’s you who’s the true victor tonight.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine

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oddlylovingaddiction · 2 months ago

Text

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: here , Part 2: here , Part 3: here , Part 4: You’re here! , Part 5: here

No forgiveness ending: Part 1: here

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family, Reader x Conner “Kon-El” Kent (romantic.). Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest

TW: Heavy Angst, a lot of crying, abuse in the form of neglect, pregnancy, Reader briefly expresses regret for existing

Theres a beat of silence after your husband came crashing through the window, minus the sound of your own sobs, you’re too overwhelmed to focus on the crash after all you just found out the people who neglected you, apparently they had done it all to protect you. Even when it wasn’t something you asked to be protected from. You missed out on so many things normal families did and now all it did was leave you scarred, untrusting with deep attachment issues and currently sobbing on the floor surrounded by glass that your husband shattered to get to you.

“CONNER?” Yells Tim in pure shock, which finally makes you finally look up and towards the crash. There, Conner Kent, your husband stood. He was clearly in shock, his soulmate who was pregnant with his child is kneeling on the floor, eyes a soft red and face all puffy as tears slip down. Meanwhile his best friend’s family is staring at said soulmate on the floor awkwardly.

When you see him you honestly cry harder, finally you’re not alone surrounded by people who supposedly loved you but someone who did truly care, and wouldn’t go fucking up your life, at least not without asking first.

“Please take me home Conner…” you sob choking on your own words as you stare at him desperately. Hearing you speak snaps him out of his shock, perhaps on autopilot he picks you up, making sure you are shielded away from your family. “Sorry dude, I’ll… text later. Maybe.” He says solemnly speaking to Tim but he still only looks at you. Tim goes to say something but before he can Conner is gone instantly, leaving behind one stunned bat family.

Conner flies through the sky still holding a sobbing you as he gently whispers “hey.. hey, it’s okay I’ve got you now. You’re safe.” in an attempt to soothe you and himself as well.

He knew you were like him, had family issues and weren’t loved quite right. Perhaps that’s how you guys bonded so fast, shared trauma is a powerful bonding agent. But he never knew who exactly they were, he knew you didn’t want to talk about it and he respected that. When he met you, you had your mother’s last name before taking his, so he never even had the slightest idea Bruce Wayne was your father. Also didn’t help Tim never once mentioned your name, unlike the other siblings he’d call by name, Tim referred to you only as “My other sibling.” on the rare occasions he did allude to you existing.

If he could get a headache right now he would, unfortunately(?) due to Kryptonian things he can’t. As he’s flying he thinks briefly before landing at your shared home ‘Damn what the hell is going on.’

You don’t remember what happened the rest of the night when you got home, you only remember continuously sobbing and a worried Conner trying his best to soothe you all for it to fail. It was so bad when Conner put you down on the couch to get you some water, when you tried to stand you just fell to your knees only able to lean on the couch as support, holding onto it like it’ll somehow save you. Perhaps all the suppressed emotions came flooding, a life time of being strong to have it crumble.

the years of watching your supposed siblings hanging out but it almost disbanding when you tried to join,

the months of drawings about your supposed father holding your small hand left unlooked,

the weeks of wondering if maybe you prayed hard enough someone would hug you

and the days of wondering if you would’ve been better off at the orphanage, or better yet never been born at all.

Now suddenly they did it for your sake? All the missed moments? You want to laugh and scream. The irony of thinking it’s better to neglected a child than to tell said child the truth. You feel Conner put a reassuring hand on your back gently rubbing when he hands you the glass of water, you push it away. You just need to cry, not water. He seems to understand putting it to the side on the hard wood floor and instead choosing to be a comforting presence while you cry.

You cry and sob for hours, unable to stop. Even when it slows down enough for Conner to finally get you to drink some water, urge you to change into your pjs because it was close to dawn now and you hadn’t slept a bit, you can still feel the tears rolling down. You think you must’ve passed out from crying because the last thing you remember seeing was Conner’s worried face like he would’ve cried too and now you’re looking at the sunrise peak through the blinds.

You sit up and sit on the edge of the bed looking down you feel dull and empty, like the entire world suddenly decided to drain itself of all joy and leave you with nothing. As you get up you pass the shared floor length mirror, when you look at yourself, all you can think of is how you look like a husk of a person. To be expected, you did go through something emotionally taxing and you did cry a lot so it makes sense your eyes look empty.

You can smell burnt pancakes. It seems Conner is trying to bake again…

As you enter the kitchen you can see the pile of burnt pancakes on a plate he prepared. Conner gives you an awkward smile as he looks at you and the pancakes, “In hindsight it’s a lot different to use heat vision than the stove.” You pause staring at him and then at the pancakes again, he looks nervous before he clarifies “they’re still edible I promise…”

A smile spreads across your face before you begin to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Somehow you laugh so hard it morphs into crying again when you threw your head back in a fit of laughter. Conner’s relieved face at you laughing turns to worry again as he floats over quickly to have you in his arms.

You cry your eyes out into Conner’s shirt as he holds you tight against him. “Hey, it’s okay, we are going to be okay.” Conner says gently rubbing your back supportively.

“I just can’t believe for such a stupid reason they shut me out!” You weep into your hands, the tears almost collecting in your palms as you finally start speaking. “But at the same time I.. I sort of get it? and it’s frustrating because… I don’t know! Cause it feels like now I don’t have the right to complain or just be upset anymore!” You shout frustrated by everything and all the emotions you’re feeling merging together to create one big storm. “Perhaps it’s somehow my fault—“ you mumble softly before you’re cut off by Conner.

Conner grabs you face and makes you look at him before you can finish, his face solemn as he speaks “You have every right to complain, even if they had good fucking intentions it still hurt. And that sucks.” His face scrunches a bit from sadness at frustration. “Don’t say stuff like it’s your fault. It’s not and I won’t let them demean the one good thing I have in my life.” He gently taps the side of your face before sadly smiling at you and your teary eyed face.

You chuckle softly. You want to cry more but you don’t feel like crying when you remember that Conner loves you and even if you don’t have a father or siblings like you wanted, you still have your adoring, handsome, funny, charismatic husband and an adorable child-to-be-born that’ll have your amazing looks and his personality. It may not have been the family you always wanted as a kid but it’s what you want and need now, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, Let’s spend today in bed and order food the entire day.” You say smiling at him your face still feels a bit weird after all that crying.

“Sounds good… but are we not going to eat my pancakes?” He teases

“I love you, but not enough that I’d eat actual ash for you.”

“Oh wow so you don’t love me anymore?” Conner replies clutching his chest dramatically before taking a step back to lean himself the table like he’s dying. To which you roll your eyes.

“Okay that’s NOT what I said. Anyways I’m going to rest in bed, come join after you finished ordering breakfast and being dramatic.” You remarked before you walk away and into the bedroom to wait for him, you knew he wouldn’t be long.

Meanwhile the entire bat fam is FREAKING. Damian is arguing with both Tim and Grayson to which Barbara has to try and break it up, Bruce is sat on the couch (not having moved since last night) covering his face as he tries to ponder where it all went wrong, Stephanie is pacing around anxiously, Alfred is trying to repair the window which was supposedly shatterproof but unfortunately ‘shatterproof’ isn’t a concept that exists for the supers, Jason is shrugging and saying “I told you this would happen.” (He didn’t.) and everyone else is scattered about some watching the argument, trying to brainstorm to a silent brooding Bruce or trying to help fix the window.

Eventually they would all have to begin brainstorming on what to do next, how to repair it all and get you to forgive them. Right now is time for panic.

#🩷 ~ long fics || oddlylovingaddiction #tw emotional neglect #tw trauma #reader is gn despite being pregnant #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #gn reader #x you #x y/n #batfam x reader #dc x y/n #conner kent x gn reader #conner kent x you #conner kent x reader #batfam x neglected reader

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 1 month ago

Note

Bob’s reaction when reader gets hurt??

A/N: I have another version of this with sassy bob <3

You never cried.

You refused especially not over a mission gone wrong, or a few cracked ribs and a shoulder that felt like it was being held together with duct tape and pride.

You limped through the compound like you’d rehearsed it. Steady steps. No flinching. A polite smile if anyone passed you. Straight to your room. Door shut. Done.

Except Bob was already there. Sitting on your bed, criss cross applesauce, waiting for you. You stopped in your tracks, breath caught mid-chest. "Shit" You mutter under your breath knowing you've been caught.

His eyes flicked up the second you stepped foot into the room. Calm at first. Measuring. Then narrowing in on every detail; the way you were holding your side, the smears of dried blood on your sleeve, the way you wouldn’t look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he said. Not a question. Not even surprise. Just… certainty. You tried to shrug it off, winced, and immediately regretted it. “It’s nothing.” Bob stood slowly. “You know you keep saying that. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

You didn’t answer. You just sat down on the edge of the bed, wincing again as your body protested every inch. And then he was in front of you. Kneeling. One hand reaching out but not quite touching, waiting for permission. “Let me see,” he said softly. You hesitated. Then nodded. He pushed your shirt up gently, careful of your bandages half-rushed, it really wasn't your best work. The bruise on your ribs had already darkened, angry and raw. His jaw clenched the moment he saw it.

“Fucking Christ.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you whispered. “No. No, don’t do that.” His voice was quiet, but sharp. “Don’t minimize it just because you think it’ll make me feel better. I don’t need you to be invincible. I need you to be in one piece.” You looked at him then, really, truly looked at him.

And God, the look in his eyes.

Like he was angry at the world for even thinking about hurting you let alone doing it. Like he wished he was the one in pain instead. Like if he could take that bruise and wear it for you, he would no hesitation.

“You scared me,” he admitted, barely above a whisper. “Scared the shit out of me. I waited. I paced. I kept checking the door. I kept telling myself you’d come back, but you were late, and then you come walking in pretending nothing’s wrong with your arm hanging off like a goddamn scarecrow—”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Well, mission failed.”

Your breath caught. And then Bob sat beside you, closer now, his hand finding yours, threading his fingers through gently like he was afraid you’d pull away. But you didn’t. “You don’t have to hide it from me, you don't get to hide it from me.” he said, softer now. “Not the bruises. Not the bad days. Not when you’re tired. Not when the fight got a little too close to your heart.” You blinked hard. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“See everything.”

Bob smiled, just a little. “I pay attention. Especially to important things like you.” You looked down at your intertwined hands. Felt the warmth of him seeping into you like sunlight through the cracks. “Thank you,” you murmured. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “You just have to come back to me in one piece.”

And then, quieter: “If I had it my way, you wouldn’t ever go out there alone again.” You nod softly before saying, “I know.” in a whisper as if you were scared you'd break the tension between you.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?”

You didn’t answer with words. You just leaned into him. Tired. Hurting. Soft in the way only Bob could pull from you. And he wrapped his arms around you so carefully, so fully, it almost didn’t hurt at all.

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mwphisto · 3 months ago

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LaDs pairings and my personal headcanons on their dynamics

Warning, this post contains: threesomes, polyamorous relationships, male x male x female dynamics, mentions of dom/sub play and dynamics.

A/N: just a silly little post about the various love and deepspace pairings and what I headcanon their throuple / threesome dynamic to be like :3 also this looks way better on mobile than desktop so forgive me for my aesthetic needs lmfaoooo

Xavier x Rafayel x Reader (StarFish)

Cutest name among the pairings first of all

Possibly controversial but I think Rafayel mainly tops in this dynamic… here me out

Xavier is a freak in the sheets but compared to Rafayel? He’s very mellow. He’s so focused on you and your needs that he can drown out some of Rafayel’s antics when getting down to it.

It’s not until Xavier snaps that Rafayel is the center of attention. You and Xavier team up to put the brat of your trio in his rightful place.

Not saying Rafayel loves it… but he loves it.

Xavier x Zayne x Reader (StarSnow)

The silent but deadly duo (lmfao)

I think these two are fighting for dominance while also being civil about it? Taking turns if you will.

In this trio, you are definitely the sub with your two doms. Very little room for switching imo

It’s very rare that you get a chance to top either of them, the two of them always being two steps ahead and getting you railed until you can’t see straight.

Xavier x Sylus x Reader (StarCrow)

Prepare to never feel your legs again.

You are once again the sub in this pairing, but with some free reigns thanks to Sylus

You and Sylus like to team up on Xavier, making the prince of Philos see the stars in which he came from by the time the two of you are done with him

Xavier and Sylus have…wrestled… much to your amusement but Sylus typically always comes out on top. Mostly thanks to his evol and size. Not that Xavier is complaining… he secretly enjoys it.

Xavier x Caleb x Reader (StarApple)

They bicker all the time, they’re always fighting for your attention.

They’re both headstrong, needing to be in control and both equally as obsessed with your pleasure.

Someway, somehow, Caleb manages to get Xavier to give up — his evol held he man down — and you had a time riding him until he was a sobbing mess

Caleb would let the roles reverse willingly after seeing how much fun Xavier got to have being under you.

Rafayel x Zayne x Reader (SnowFish)

We’re looking at two bratty subs with their tamer

You and Rafayel are menaces when together, in and out of the bedroom. Poor Zayne (he fucking loves it)

A common position is you riding Rafayel within an inch of his life while Zayne holds you by your hair and helps himself to your… back door.

Roles have also been reversed, with Rafayel getting fucked senseless while trying not to slobber all over your pussy — and failing miserably in the process.

Rafayel x Sylus x Reader (CrowFish)

Sylus gets off watching you and Rafayel play.

He often partakes in the activities, don’t get me wrong, but he has a thing for watching you and Rafayel get each other off. The struggle of two switches trying not to fall into submissive tendencies… and failing. Cute.

Though, it’s not always the case, when Sylus is involved, Rafayel gets feral. You’re not leaving that bed with working legs… or any feeling in your lower half for that matter. It’s your turn to get fucked within an inch of your life and be pampered on for the coming days.

More than one bed has been replaced…

Rafayel x Caleb x Reader (AppleFish)

Kings of yearning…and stalking… and trying to act like they didn’t plot everything ever.

They initially hate each other, then they realize how likeminded they are and it’s game over for you.

They are torturing you low-key, expect to be tied up, edged until you're sobbing, and then overstimulated until you're begging them to stop. And, spoiler, they won't stop.

Evil ass dynamic for real, they feed off of each other's dramatics

Zayne x Sylus x Reader (SnowCrow)

Oh bitch. Maybe I'm biased (I am) but this combo is elite.

You've got three brat tamers who can all be brats. A group of switches if you will. Couple broken beds with Sylus and Raf? You're looking at multiple broken beds, couches, tables, chairs, fucking destroyed bathrooms, ruined carpets, you get the idea.

You are ruined every time, even if you're on top. You've gotta call out of work the next day, Zayne goes to work limping, Sylus is overly smug about the whole thing

You can plot against each other and still end up fucked stupid

Zayne x Caleb x Reader (SnowApple)

Zayne is putting y'all in your rightful places. Caleb thinks he has a shot at dominating Zayne and is sorely mistaken by the end of it. You really did try to warn him too, now he can't even walk.

Linkon's best surgeon has a time putting Linkon's best hunter and the Farspace Fleet's colonel in their places. Fucking them both to damn tears is is specialty.

We're looking at one dominant with two switches who lean towards bratty subs whether they want to or not

Punishments go crazy with this throuple

Sylus x Caleb x Reader (CrowApple)

You've never known Caleb to be shy until Sylus gets involved. Caleb couldn't stand him, Sylus found it utterly amusing. You? You just enjoyed the show.

Sylus forced Caleb to watch as he fucked you stupid, tears streaming down your face while he's balls deep and kissing you senseless. In the end, Caleb came untouched and realized that being a brat against Sylus would result in real punishment.

Even with his gravity evol, Caleb can't win against Bossman. And either way, you get to have the time of your life with both of your lovers trying - and failing - to work it out.

Either way, you'll be getting wrecked daily... multiple times.

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muqingslover · 5 months ago

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Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

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hedgehog-moss · 3 months ago

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The cherry tree I planted in front of the greenhouse blossomed for the first time this spring! A round of applause!

The wind always blows from the valley so I planted this tree strategically so that in spring a delicious smell would be delivered in my living-room through the windows, and around the outdoor table where I work, and it worked :) I estimate that it improved my quality of life by 11%. A light spring breeze carrying a cherry blossom smell is the kind of thing that stops me in my tracks ten times a day and makes me close my eyes and take a deep breath and think oh, life is good.

More tree updates: I talked in this post from 2021, then this one from 2022, about how I hoped to plant a 'fruit tree path' in the woods behind my house—this project is still ongoing and, well, hasn't borne fruit yet, but has finally blossomed. My Fruit Alley now boasts 10 trees, and looks like—what it is, a small opening in the woods that I have to deploy heroic and sustained efforts to keep open, because the woods try to reclaim it year after year, patiently, like a slow green tide.

The white thing in the middle is one of the tarps I've been using to smother brambles, I move them every few weeks and it works pretty well. I also use cardboard, but in the spring it's hard to keep up with the sheer rate of growth everywhere. Of course the main enemy is the army of broom that you can see in the distance, all yellow and cheerful-looking at the moment. I mostly fight them in the winter, every year I manage to push them back a few metres...

Here's a photo where you can better see some of the trees :

In total I have planted 2 apple trees, 1 quince tree, 1 mirabelle plum, 3 red plums, 1 nectarine tree, 3 cherry trees. I'm really glad that all of them survived, as I was a bit worried about damage from deer or boars. I did lose 2 chestnut trees that were destroyed so savagely I have to assume it's wild boars, but I had planted them much farther away in the woods and I won't make this mistake again. I now have two new baby chestnuts and I planted them near the greenhouse (downhill):

I think I'd never seen nectarine flowers before, they look exotic! I also discovered this year what quince flowers look like:

The only tree that didn't bloom was the smallest apple tree, and honestly that's her fault because for some reason she decided to make tender new green leaves in the middle of winter, so she pretty much exhausted herself for nothing. And you can't blame climate change and seasons being weird for this, because it was a cold and snowy week and no other nearby fruit trees were making any leaves. The confused apple tree is a New Zealand cultivar, so I suppose you could argue she thinks she's still in New Zealand, except she's never been to New Zealand in her life, she was born and raised in France, she doesn't know New Zealand exists. The only possible explanation is, I suppose, a deep-rooted yearning for their ancestral homeland among New Zealand apple trees.

I was a bit concerned when this tree then failed to produce any leaves in the spring, I worried she might be hopelessly hemispherically-challenged, but then I went back to check two weeks later and she was finally green! In a seasonally-appropriate way!

Other trees I've planted, not in the fruit tree path: a persimmon, but it died very quickly :( I will try again; a goji berry shrub, which has been here for two years and seems to be doing well, but so far no sign of berries; and in front of my house, an amelanchier (un arbre dont ma mère n'arrive jamais à se rappeler le nom et qu'elle persiste à appeler "le mélenchon"):

Finally, my last piece of important tree-related news is that I had the hazel tree near my house removed this winter:

I asked the guy who was working on the road nearby with an excavator digging a drainage trench if he could do it, and it took all of 10 minutes, like picking a flower, it was impressive!

And the reason I wanted to remove it is that there are hundreds of hazel trees in my woods and I wanted something different in this spot by the house. Unfortunately for this deserving hazel, it just wasn't special enough.

So I planted a tiny ginkgo :) And now I just have to be extremely patient as I wait for everyone to grow.

#crawling along #and i'll continue to expand the fruit tree path at the rhythm of 3 new trees per year #(because that's the maximum number of saplings i can fit in my car)

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pyract0 · 5 months ago

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Random thoughts with MHA men!

☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))

╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.

╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.

╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3

╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)

╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)

╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)

╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.

╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)

╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.

╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.

╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))

╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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“OUR LOVE SHALL LIVE, AND LATER LIFE RENEW”

— domestic family moments with gojo, geto, nanami, toji and sukuna (f!reader)

a/n: i was on vacation my babes; my apologies </3 hope you yall enjoy this

GOJO SATORU:

it is no secret that your husband thrives off physical affection, so it surprises no one when he is latched onto you like a koala to a tree, especially at home.

the past couple of days were filled with more missions than gojo would’ve preferred, so to make up for lost time, he spent the entirety of last night cuddling you.

that cuddling session continued to the morning, and satoru couldn’t have been happier.

you, fast asleep and looking oh so pretty, and him, happily burying his face in your chest: the perfect combo.

your husband, however, failed to remember that there is somebody else who would fight day and night for your affection.

that someone comes in the shape of his grumpy little son who is currently standing at the door with a stance that is supposed to be intimidating.

the little boy pouts and is about to yell when satoru—reluctantly—detaches himself from you and stares at him.

“what do you want, s/n?”

your son makes his way to the bed and climbs it up with much struggle, but it doesn’t matter to him since he is satisfied he is finally face to face with his dad.

he crosses his arms and huffs, “I want to cuddle with mom.”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, and his fingers slowly card through your hair. your husband replies with a smirk, “well, I want to cuddle with her too. I miss her!”

“dad, don’t be mean!” your son argues, “you had her yesterday!”

satoru shrugs and lies back down, and you cuddle into his side.

he can’t help himself as he presses a kiss to your head first then looks at s/n, pleadingly, “but I was working a lot this past week; can’t you let me have her just a bit more?”

your son ponders a bit, before settling on a solution that should satisfy both ends. satoru has been away for quite the while lately.

so, s/n simply throws himself on satoru’s chest, making the older man groan. the boy buries his face into his dad’s chest and guides his hand into his hair.

satoru smiles, hand immediately getting to work, patting his son’s head. he sighs blissfully, “you really are my son.”

s/n nods slowly, and he starts drifting off to sleep. satoru is thankful that he closed the curtains yesterday and that he is granted another chance to sleep in with you and his son.

s/n murmurs a soft, “love you, dada.”

it makes satoru’s heart nearly burst as he looks at his son. he immediately replies softly, “I love you too, buddy.”

s/n slowly replies, “you better,” before falling asleep. your husband gently pulls you closer and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

satoru whispers a soft, “thank you.”

he starts rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and leaning his head more towards your own. it is a few moments that pass before he asks, “also babe, are you seriously still asleep?”

“no, I am awake, you silly buffon; you two have never heard of inside voices.”

GETO SUGURU:

the slow creak of the door signals to everybody in the house the arrival of suguru, long before his voice does. little hurried steps rush down the stairs as your husband takes off his shoes.

he looks up with a smile and chirps, “I am home!”

“daddy!” your two girls squeal as they tackle their dad in a big hug. he quickly hugs them back and picks them both up.

they each press a kiss to his cheek, and he returns them tenfold causing them to squeal yet again.

he finally relents before asking them, as he gently twirls around, “how are my pretty girls doing?”

the little girls look at each other then smirk. they both yank out the papers they kept hidden in their pockets before saying simultaneously, “we made drawings!”

suguru face noticeably lights up, and he coos, “these are so pretty! are those supposed to be us?”

the girls nod excitedly, and they each start explaining the details of their own respective drawings.

he listens to both of them intently then asks, “you made sure to make mommy extra pretty, so it can actually look like her, right?”

“yes yes!”

“mommy is the prettiest!”

“I gave her flowers!”

“daddy, daddy, I gave her flowers and a dress!”

your husband laughs lightly, “well, that’s good; both of your drawings are amazing,” he looks around.

with a confused tilt of his head, he looks down at his girls, “speaking of which, where is your mama?”

the girls yell out, “follow us!” then sprint towards where they last saw you, the living room. he quickly makes his way towards you, and he feels his heart soar when he finally sees you.

you see him in the corner of your eye, and as you turn to greet him, your girls throw themselves at you and squeal, “we missed you!”

“you girls just saw me 5 minutes ago!” you chuckle but, nonetheless, hug them back and pepper their faces with kisses.

you hear your husband huff before he picks up the girls by their shirts making them scream and thrash about.

“daddy, put us down!”

“mama, help!”

he throws them both on the fluffy beanbag and pulls you into a hug, “how’s my favorite girl?”

you giggle as he presses soft kisses across your face. his arms wrap around your waist and he squeezes you a little.

you hug him back and gently pat his back, “are you playing favorites, suguru?”

“very much so.”

you hear gasps from your dramatic girls, and you see each one of them arming herself.

your husband purposely ignores them and buries his face into the crook of your neck. you mumble to him, “you are going to get jumped.”

“I know.”

your eyes flit to the girls then to your husband again, “they seem really angry.”

“I know, but at least I am hugging you.”

you quirk an eyebrow, “you okay dying as long as I am hugging you?”

“that’s like the best way to die, love.”

your girls let out a battle cry.

“daddy, you meanie!”

“suffer!”

NANAMI KENTO:

your husband groans, and his hand rises to see what the weight on his chest is. his hand finds a head and a bed of hair that he is all too familiar with.

he slowly opens his eyes and sees your dear daughter laying soundly asleep on him.

a small smile appears on his face, and he lets out a small sigh of both content and relief. he turns his head slightly towards the nightstand and reaches for the alarm.

it reads eleven in the morning, which kento deems the proper time to finally wake up.

so, he looks back at d/n then at you. he remembers how hard you’ve been working the past few days and decides that leaving you to rest a bit more today.

he also decides to prepare breakfast for you but not without his little helper. he pats her head gently and tries to wake her up, “d/n.”

she doesn’t respond, so he calls out again, “d/n.”

she groans and buries her face deeper into his chest. he lets out a small chuckle then rubs her back and says, “come on; we have to make breakfast for mom.”

“but I am tired,” she argues, voice muffled.

“well, mama is tired too, so we need to be nice and make her breakfast. don’t you think so?”

she groans, “yes, but…”

“d/n?” he urges.

the little girl huffs and pushes herself up and looks her dad directly in the eyes—albeit her eyes are squinty and barely open.

it makes him think that she is going to huff then get up to wash her face, but she simply pushes herself off him so she can land in your embrace.

your arms wrap instinctively around her, and she immediately nuzzles into your chest. he stares at the two of you for a bit, rather dumb-founded. then his expression turns into one of fondness.

he turns his entire body towards you.

he is finally face to face with you, and he puts his arm around you to pull you closer. he hears his daughter’s whines and complains about how he is crushing her, but he only smiles.

he looks down at her and hums, “there is plenty of space on the other side of the bed, if you don’t like laying between us.”

she quickly backtracks, “no, no, no; I will stay.”

he nods before looking at you again. he presses a kiss to your forehead and feels his body relax. he murmurs, “just five more minutes, and nothing more.”

your daughter pouts, “not even ten?”

“not even ten,” he says, kissing her cheek, “but I will make it up to you by making pancakes; what do you think?”

she nods happily and mumbles, “we will make the best breakfast.”

“yeah,” he murmurs, joining you in your slumber.

you end up waking up before him but can’t escape your husband’s solid grip. you even look down to see your little angel—maybe—giggling and squealing, happy that you’re finally awake.

of course, it wakes up your husband. but oh well.

TOJI FUSHIGURO:

“stop being a brat and get me the flour.”

“stop being rude first then I will get it for you.”

“what part of what I said was rude, you—”

that’s how it has been for the past hour. toji and megumi had decided to put their differences aside to surprise you with something: breakfast in bed.

it’s quite simple.

they were supposed to make some sausages, eggs, pancakes, and everything they could find really. they wanted to make it a five-star breakfast.

despite their constant bickering, they managed to finish everything, save for the pancakes. it was finally getting closer to the—usual—time of you waking up, so toji was on edge.

he wanted to at least do this correctly.

he thinks of it as a little something to start repaying you for everything you gave him—which he thinks is impossible to actually repay but oh well.

he moves around the kitchen rather clumsily, partially because of his size and partially because of his absence in the kitchen, for good reason, though, megumi would argue.

“dad, the sausages are burnt.”

“shut up.”

“mom likes her eggs a little bit runny.”

“I know.”

with furrowed eyebrows, toji finally gets to mixing the batter. he hears megumi call out, “dad.”

he is a little irked, to be honest, but he responds anyway, “what do you want now?”

“is…”

toji immediately notes the shift in his son’s tone, causing him to give megumi his full attention.

the little boy fidgets with his shirt a little before speaking up, “is there a chance that mom would disappear?”

your husband looks down at the still batter in the bowl. he sighs. it’s a question that he thinks about, at least every week. this haven that he managed to be a part of, is it really permanent?

he has been unlucky all his life, and things are going way too well nowadays. is that the universe’s way of preparing him for the biggest scar of his life?

taking you away?

he closes his eyes for a brief moment, and he finds his hand resting on the top of his son’s head. the little boy’s eyes widen, and he looks up at his dad.

toji frowns slightly and looks away, gently ruffling megumi’s hair and finally saying, “no…I will make sure of that.”

toji locks eyes with megumi, and the two can tell that it’s a silent promise. the boy blushes a little red, embarrassed at the unusual display of affection by his father.

his father grumbles and goes back to making the pancakes.

“my oh my, never thought I would be lucky enough to see you in a kitchen apron,” you tease from the doorway.

megumi instantly runs to the door at the sound of your voice. your son hugs you tightly, mumbling a small, “good morning.”

“you ruined the surprise,” your husband complains as you walk towards him.

you press a kiss to his cheek, which he immediately reciprocates, “I am already plenty surprised.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

a giggle leaves your lips as your daughter carefully climbs her father and perches herself on his shoulders. it is amazing how much sukuna lets you and your daughter get away with.

some would argue that your husband has, overall, mellowed down, but then they would get sliced down instantly.

he is still the big, feared king of curses, and people cower in his presence now more than ever, but those—uraume and the servants—who see him with you two can see the difference, even if it is slight.

that can be evident right now considering your husband who is deliberately ignoring your little girl’s antics.

your girl takes it as the okay to what she is doing, so she continues her quiet laughter as she gently starts placing flowers from the basket on his hair.

feeling the movement, your husband groans then looks at you, “what is that brat doing?”

she spreads the flowers out a bit, so they can fill his hair, meanwhile your husband’s annoyance rises.

the assortment of flowers that she placed actually matches well with his hair, and you feel the need to commend her, “you’re doing amazing, d/n!”

she grins as you sit in front of your husband. you look at your little artist doing her thing then smile, “she is making you pretty.”

he scrunches his nose, “by putting flowers on me? I ought to teach her a lesson.”

one of his hands reach for her, and he grabs her by the back of her shirt. she starts squealing and kicking, “daddy, I was almost done!”

he dangles her in front of his face and frowns, “who gave you permission to put that stuff on my hair? who do you think you’re dealing with?”

her face softens, and she mumbles softly, “you’re my dad…”

you coo at her but are quickly silenced when sukuna pulls you to him and nestles you in his lap. he keeps glaring at your daughter—who is trying her best not to cry because he said that it’s for the weak—then he sighs.

he lets go of her, and she screams, flailing her arms around. however, she safely falls in your arms. she whimpers slightly and buries her face in your shoulder.

your husband looks down at her small form in your arms and slowly raises his hand and puts it on her head.

“good on you for not crying,” he lightly ruffles her hair, and your daughter slowly looks up at him, wide-eyed.

he grumbles and looks away, “don’t look at me like that.”

“you love me!” she squeals, and he simply grunts in return.

she quickly gets off your lap and goes to run around the garden. your little girl starts screaming about how her dad praised her, and you feel a grin slowly rise on your face.

but, you suddenly feel your husband’s head lower down and his lips brush against your ears slightly.

you can even hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “looks like you want another one.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will make my cousins jump you

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i-heart-armin · 6 months ago

Text

3rd Row, By The Window

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Pairings: Armin Arlert x Fem Reader

Summary: You ask Armin to help you study, with a happy little accident your relationship evolves into more than just friends.

Warnings: Heavy smut, making out, thigh gripping, dry humping, thigh grinding, slight tit play, palming, fingering, PnV sex, virgin! Reader and Armin, desk fucking, soft dom Armin, creampie, use of nicknames (Angel, good girl, slut, etc), slight overstimulation, mating press, size difference, raw sex, aftercare, teasing (from eren the next day).

Word count: 6053

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Sunlight illuminated the golden locks of the boy sitting in the third row, next to the window. His gaze was trained on your professor as the words began to topple over one another, his pen scribbling down any coherent information that escaped his chapped lips. Something you had long given up on, not a soul tried or even liked Mr Haas’ class, except for Armin Arlert, forever the goody too shoes striving to be better than the rest. The type to raise his hand about handing in homework while the rest groan in agony, which safe to say doesn’t make him the most likeable character among your peers. Yet something about him made your heart beat one pace faster, palms clammy, and head light. Which is why today is the day you ask for some ‘help’ with his expertise in tutoring.

With your supplies readily packed within the constraints of your school bag, you anxiously anticipated the minute the clock struck the conclusion of the lesson. Strumming your fingers on the desk you looked up to the worn clock on the wall, never failing to be exactly 1 minute behind the rest. The two hands met and this was your cue to go, you swiftly stood up from your seat, pushing it under the desk before letting your legs mindlessly take you to where Armin was still packing away his materials from class. The confident air you once adorned soon vanished when you saw his head poke up to meet you with those intimidatingly blue eyes.

“Oh hi (name)!” Armin chimed, a bashful smile playing along his rosy lips. You were surprised he even recalled your name, you’ve only ever spoken to him what, 2 maybe 3 times? Averting your gaze from his piercing one to look at the fidgeting of your thumbs, you gained the courage to speak, “Uh hey Armin…” He cocked his head to the side, stepping closer to you after he’d slew his weighted bag over his shoulder. “What um, brings you here to talk to me all of a sudden?” He chuckled. You captured all the air you could manage in one breath, finally regaining your composure to look back into his eyes. “I know this is sort of out of the blue but you’re probably the smartest person in this room, teacher included, and I’m struggling with my studies so if it doesn’t take up too much of your time, I would really appreciate if you could tutor me.” The last morsel of air escaped your lungs and you looked up at him, awaiting an answer.

The corners of his mouth turned up as he made the most enchanting smile, truly something you’d see out of a fantasy, and replied. “Of course, it’s no trouble at all, I'd be honoured to help in any way I can. And I’m not that smart, don’t make my head grow too big.” You prayed he wouldn’t notice the blush that was quickly climbing up your neck, and grinned back at him with a plethora of scenarios racing through your mind. “Thank you so much, Armin, you’re being such a great help.” And under your breath, you murmured, “But you ARE that smart.” If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, however, it was likely he did as his cheeks grew an almost hardly noticeable, pink tinge.

“I’m actually free for the rest of the day, if you want to come to my dorm room. Not that we can’t go to a library or your room it’s just that at this time it would be super busy and I wouldn’t want to intrude in your space.” Armin squeaked, averting his gaze for just a moment before returning. Was this a blessing from god himself? Armin Arlert inviting you into his own room, there was no other explanation for it. “No, that’s totally all fine with me, I agree the library would be too busy, and my room is.. a bit of a mess at the moment.” You tittered, nervously exchanging weight between your two feet like a seesaw. “Well it’s set then, let’s start making our way” Armin smiled as you two walked down to the door leading out of the lecture theatre.

—x—

The corridor felt long, too long, the plain white walls and old grey carpet seemed to stretch into an endless abyss, until Armin halted. You were there. Every muscle in your body was stiff as an 80-year-old, contradicting the lively passion of youth burning in your heart. “(Name), we’re here. (Name)?” Broken from your trance you abruptly twisted your body to face the door looming in front of you. “Are you ok, I know the place could use some work but it’s scholarship-funded so I can’t complain.” Armin awkwardly laughed, “No! No, I mean it’s fine, great even, I’m fine just spacing off haha…” Your eyes darted around, Armin looking at you with a hint of concern behind his gaze.

“Alright, as long as you're fine.” He uttered, opening the door to let you in first, ever the gentleman. So this is what his room looks like, tidy, as expected, navy blue bedding made neatly, a picture of his best friends Eren and Mikasa resting prettily on the bedside table, bookshelves from floor to ceiling, not one spot left unfilled, and a large desk complete with anything you could ever need for schoolwork. Armin to a t. “Wow, your room is so beautifully organised, wish I had that kind of commitment.” You joked, turning to smile back at him, to which he returned the gesture. “Well, I try.” He said smugly.

He strode over to the mahogany desk, pulling out an extra chair from behind for you to perch yourself on. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, if you’re cold you can use my throw blanket, the place doesn’t have heating so it can get a little chilly.” You turned your attention to Armin, holding the fluffy grey blanket in his hand, smiling to yourself you took it gratefully and placed it upon your body, opening your bag to get out your studying supplies. “Thank you, it was feeling a bit nippy in here, won’t you get cold without it though?” Armin slinked around your chair, carefully positioning himself in his own, “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got pants and a jumper on, you’re wearing a skirt so priority should fall to you.”

You nodded in agreement, flipping your textbook to where you were stuck. Armin began to pull out his books, kicking off his shoes as you were reminded to do the same. He watched you, how you swung your legs from the chair, how you tucked your hair behind your ear so as to not get in the way of reading your book, how you would occasionally glance back at him, only to quickly look away with a light dust of pink on your cheeks. You were cute, he had to admit, it was obvious, but in your own unnerved state you ignored how he fidgeted with his hands, how his thigh was subtly bouncing up and down, and how he blushed when you caught him staring. Armin cleared his throat to terminate the silence, “So, um, what was it that you needed help with?”

You explained to Armin the concept you were stuck on, pointing to a practice question. “I just- don’t get how it works, like I know the steps but my brain doesn’t know how to put it into action.” You met Armins’ eyes as he reached over to your hand, shuffling his chair closer so that your thighs may abut at any moment. “Can I?” He asked, glancing at the pen you were holding. “Yeah, sure.” You handed him the instrument, your fingers brushing against each other a second or two longer than what would be considered an accidental graze of the hand. His breath slightly hitched and you raised your head to look at him, however, he had already begun writing on a blank piece of paper nearby.

“Here, (name) I finished this question, let’s go over how to do it.” He placed the paper down next to your book, explaining the question with words you’ve probably never heard in your life, damn that man is smart. It all blurred into one while he was speaking anyway, the way he could talk for hours and you wouldn’t get sick of hearing his sweet voice. He was so close, if you had been cold before you’d done a 180 because with the way your body was overheating you couldn’t help but slide the blanket down your legs to release some of the warmth. Exposing just your upper thighs, as you didn’t have the gall to completely take it off after recently accepting his thoughtful gesture.

Time passed as you followed the same formulaic routine, practise questions, marking, explanation on where you went wrong, where you didn’t. The room now had an orange aura about it as the sun began to take its rest for the day, you’d lost count of what question you were on, your palm rested against your head acting as the lone barrier between you and your heading slamming the desk in exhaustion. You heard the sound of a pen rolling across the desk, and Armin's hand was on your upper thigh. Gripping it, hard. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to do that, I was just trying to reach for the pen before it fell off the desk when I sort of lost my balance, I’m really sorry (name).” Just your luck.

Your face burned a bright red, as did his as he desperately tried to explain himself. But fuck did you want him to do it again. Nothing but spurts of air came out of your mouth, no words could describe what you were feeling, what you wanted him to do to you. The room fell silent for a brief period, and a shaky breath escaped your lungs. “I’m so so sorry, I can leave if you need me to, although this is my room so- um- I don’t know…”

You jerked your head up, looking at Armin as he thrashed about in his chair, searching for a solution that he wouldn’t be able to find in his flustered state.

“Armin calm down, I don’t mind, you didn’t try to make me feel uncomfortable on purpose or anything!” You said, grabbing a hold of his strong shoulders and gazing deep into his azure eyes. He sat still, exhaling in relief. “God I thought I screwed it up with you, you had me panicking when you weren’t responding.” He chuckled, “It’s all good Armin, stop overreacting you only touched my thigh, there are worse places.” You smirked, “But I’d probably like you touching me there more…” you said in the faintest voice, thinking someone as quick-witted and observant as he wouldn’t notice. His jaw dropped in shock and his back straightened upright as electricity coursed through his nervous system.

“Did you.. mean that?” You slowly turned your head back around in horror, no way he fucking heard that, the window was close by may as well take a dive off the 3rd floor. “H-huh?” You tried to play it dumb, nobody here is being fooled by that, not even yourself. Armin took a breath before glancing to the side and back at you, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he almost choked on his words. “I could be completely off base here but, if you meant what you said, then I guess- I wouldn’t, uh, mind touching…” he said, his voice barely a whisper by the last word. You sat there, dumbfounded. It must be a dream.

“I- uh, yes?” Armin moved closer, gently placing his hand on top of yours, “Don’t feel pressured we can go back to studying if it was just a sarcastic remark.” Your heart was beating a thousand times per minute, and any oxygen passing through your lungs vanished in an instant, this couldn’t be happening, could it? “No, I meant it, really, if you still wanna…” His hand tenderly trailed from your own up your arm and to your waist, pulling you closer into his embrace. The blanket that provided you warmth slipped off your legs entirely to be long forgotten on the floor. His veiny hands delicately tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, as he leaned in and whispered, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, just say the word alright?” His body heat radiated against your frame, causing you to let out small pants as his fingers leisurely traced up and down your sides.

“Kiss.. please.” You said breathily. Armin pulled back, you could see a certain hunger in his eyes before his plush lips met your own, he was intense, yet docile, taking such care in pleasing you, beckoning to your every wish and desire. “You're so perfect, so sweet for me.” He said between kisses, your lips entwined with each other, neither of you eager to stop anytime soon. He brought his other hand to rest behind your neck, lightly grasping your hair to pull you deeper into the kiss. The hand that was around your waist slithered down to the back of your thigh as he used it as leverage to lift you onto his desk. You gasped at the sudden movement, allowing Armin to intrude his tongue into your mouth, as his hand once again seized your waist.

“Mh!” You moaned into his mouth, as he slid his surprisingly muscular thigh between your legs, pressing against where you needed him the most. You grasped at anything behind you to stabilise yourself, the contact making your body go limp, so long for the various papers and stationary that toppled off the desk in your wake. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, a gasp escaped your lips, breaking the kiss while he moved his thigh up and down, rubbing the thick material of his pants on your clothed pussy. “Be a good girl and use it, ok?” Armin purred into your ear, his lips making their way from your jaw, down to your neck, and stopping at your collarbone, marking them with maroon-coloured blemishes. As per his instructions, you began to rock yourself on his leg, hands clawing at the fabric of his freshly ironed jumper, leaving wrinkles in the fabric as it bunched up.

He took clutch of your waist, you could feel his fingertips softly guiding your hips to arch forward and backward in a fluid motion. The friction of his rough jeans was too much to handle, making your clit throb incessantly while small whimpers slipped off the tip of your tongue. Your legs desperately suffocated his own as you rocked yourself at a faster pace. To which Armin promptly shoved his leg further into your core, causing the desk to shake and miscellaneous objects to fall from the cliff as he spread your legs out once again. “You’re doing so good, keep going. Tell me where to touch you next.” All you could manage was a barely audible “Ok”, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

All of a sudden he stopped, his leg halting as he lifted his head from your body, hair messy, pupils dilated, and lips wet. The look in his eyes said he wanted, no, NEEDED to devour you. However, the loss of contact made you whine out in frustration. “Min..” you groaned, apprehensively grinding yourself on his leg in hopes he would move just an inch. “(Name) you gotta tell me with your words now,” Armin spoke, leaving one more kiss on your neck before looking up at you with pleading eyes. Sighing, you bit your lip in embarrassment, “Anywhere, everywhere, wanna feel you all over me… inside me.” He gazed back, stunned at your confession, not to say he wasn’t wishing for the same thing.

You felt the harsh grip of his hand on your ass in an instant, pulling you flush with his hips where you could feel the unmistakable hardness of his dick pressing against you. He swiftly lifted your legs to wrap around his torso while pushing your back against the desk, his hand placed behind your head to make sure you didn’t hit it too hard. His lips were hot against yours and you could feel your baby hairs cling to your forehead from the sweat. Armin's nimble fingers made their way up your shirt, carefully pulling it over your head while he held you off the desk by your waist, hands burning your skin with the simple touch. Your eyes darted down to where his erection strained against his pants, he couldn’t help but needily grind his cock into you to release at least some pressure.

Armin's free hand went to cup your breast through your bra, kneading the flesh as you moaned out in ecstasy. Soon he reached around your back to unclasp the undergarment, staring intently as your tits slightly bounced while falling out. He pressed into your core harder as he felt the soft sensation of your bare boobs beneath his fingertips, experimentally rolling your nipple between his index and middle. The heat in the air was unbearable, the warmth of Armin's jumper far too much at that moment. He gave a quick peck and a quaint “sorry” before lifting himself to strip his body of the item, revealing his toned torso and arms.

While you gawked at his body his hands were making fast pace to underneath your skirt, his short nails leaving tingling sensations as he traced them up your thighs. He folded up your skirt to get a better view, pausing to stare at the pink lace panties you adorned and discreetly swallowing the saliva forming at the back of his throat. He traced his eyes along your body, committing all your curves, the slight furrow of your brows and the way your chest raised up and down in anticipation to memory. His hand trailed its way down to your underwear, breathily sighing as he pressed his middle finger into the large soaked patch.

“Are you this wet for me?” Armin borderline whispered, his face flushing a deep crimson he attempted to hide by swivelling his head to the side. “You’re so cute, Armin.” You mused, interlocking your fingers with his and squeezing them within the palm of your hand. “N- stop, I can’t focus if you tease me like that..” He turned his attention back to you, face still flushed as he guided the hand you were holding to press against your panties. “Do you feel how fucking drenched you are?” He pressed your hand harder into your clit, “How am I not supposed to get excited?” Armin said defensively, you giggled at the sight before you were rudely awoken to his fingers dipping beneath the confines of your underwear.

Your moans rang embarrassingly loud in the small room as a finger shallowly dipped itself inside your pussy. “Is that ok with you?” Armin questioned, it didn’t really matter though as you’d let him do anything to you, however, you mustered up a half moan, half mhm in reply. His finger pulled its way out before pushing in again, much deeper than before. He set a slow rhythm, getting you acquainted with the feeling of something foreign inside of you. You peeked down to where his finger was pumping repeatedly, the veins of his hand prominent when he strained to curl his finger.

“Please, more.” You beseeched, he met your half-lidded eyes and swore he could’ve come from the perilous gaze staring back at him. “Anything for you angel.” And with that, you felt the stretch of a second finger entering you, thrusting faster and harder till your toes were curling in euphoria. Armin leaned over your body to kiss you, his tongue entering your mouth without hesitation, his fingers unrelenting on this attack on your pussy. As he was placing a thumb on your clit, his body jerked at the unforeseen touch of your hand palming his dick. “Mmm, so good min-“ you praised, causing him to nearly double over in pleasure.

The harder you pressed against his cock, the faster he would circle around your clit and thrust his fingers in and out, the more raucous your moans, the more you felt the twitch of his dick beneath his pants. It was a battle of who could indulge the other better, first to come lost, although it was never a fair fight, with the way he reached that spongy spot inside of you over and over, you were mere seconds from falling apart. “Gonna- come, ah!” You shrieked, your core clenching around his fingers so hard he may never be able to escape, “Go on, come for me now.”

You were past the threshold, climax hitting you with the power of a thousand colossals’. Although Armin didn’t stop the plunging of his fingers, rather speeding up, causing a lone tear to trickle down the side of your cheek onto the long-forgotten answer page he had so kindly written for you. “S- too much Armin..” You panted, still high off the last orgasm that propelled its way through your body at an alarmingly intense rate. “I know you can do it, trust me you won’t regret it.” He mumbled into your ear, arm tired yet still so eager to make this something to remember, make him something to remember. “Won’t be able- to take this,” you lightly brushed your hand over his erect dick, “if you keep going.”

His heart stopped momentarily before his hand. You slumped back when he gently pulled his fingers out of you, a string of your cum still attached from where his fingers were inside of you. When it broke, your blurred gaze followed his hand to where he placed them tactfully in his mouth, beginning to suck the viscous liquid. They came out clean, sparkling even, not a single drop wasted, and your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight.

“I uh- I don’t have any condoms 'cause I usually, no- haven’t, done this before..” Armin stuttered, eyes darting around his room just in case he’d find the non-existent protection he was speaking of. “Me either.” You said reassuringly, despite the nerves that were eating you up alive. “Really?” He questioned, “I didn’t mean that in a rude way at all it’s just- you’re so beautiful it was surprising to hear that.” Armin flushed, interlinking his pinky finger with your own. “I could say the same for you, I mean you’re sweet, handsome, smart, and with the way you were y’know doing that earlier I thought you must’ve had experience.” Your head turned away at the last word, it was far too embarrassing to look him in the eye after you said all that.

However, you were caught off guard when he grasped your chin between his index and thumb, turning you back around to meet him face-to-face. You felt his soft breaths against your skin, he was so close, and the way he was looking at you felt so.. intimate. “I may or may not have had practice with that stuff with my previous girlfriend, but I’ve never gone this far with her, or anyone for that matter. We’ve barely talked but there’s this feeling in my gut saying it wants it to be you.” A short gasp slipped past your lips, you wanted it to be him, too. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean, obviously, so- please I need you right now.”

The clinking of his belt buckle rang through the room, commanding all your attention. His fingers danced through the belt loops, pulling it loose, you heard the clear thump of it falling to the ground. You utilised your elbows to prop you up, gazing downwards as he undressed himself, alluring you as if it were some kind of performance. He unbuttoned his trousers, and undid the zip, sighing in relief as the constraints were lifted. They slid down his legs, taking their time to reveal the main act of the evening. “Before I take these off, could you please take off your skirt and panties for me?” Armin croaked, attempting to distract the spotlight from shining on him too long. You complied, shimmying the items down your legs and blushing as you realised you were completely naked for Armin Arlert to see.

“It’s only fair you return the favour…” He pulled down his boxers, letting his cock spring free, it was pretty like him, pink and dripping with pearly white beads of precum, and surprisingly big too. You couldn’t help but stare, yet he couldn't complain, as he was doing the exact same to you. You both gawked at each other, unmoving. “Will that fit-“, “You’re so gorgeous-“, You both spoke at the same time, inebriated by the other’s presence. The implications of that comment dawned on Armin, and he tried to shield himself out of instinct, he was far too laggard though, as you gripped his wrist before he could block your view. “Don’t cover yourself, I wanna see all of you, even if it is a tad daunting.” You chuckled.

You felt his muscles soften under your hold, slowly pulling his hand away to place it on the desk, caging you with his presence. “I promise to be gentle, just tell me whatever comes to your mind to guide me, please?” He whispered, his head dipped down into the crook of your neck. You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating when your chest gladly welcomed his. “Ok, but just know that I trust your judgement on any decision you make, try not to overthink anything and enjoy it for me.” You smiled, running your fingers through his silky locks. “Of course,” Armin tenderly spoke back, as he raised his body from yours.

You gasped as you felt his dick rubbing along your pussy, coating itself in your slick. Until it caught in your opening, his tip at your entrance pulsing and needy to be sheathed inside you. One hand guided his cock within your walls, the other rested against a shelf for support, inch by inch he sank deeper into you, and as the distance between him and the hilt shortened, he was reduced to a symphony of pathetic whines. However, your voice sought to challenge his, moans just as loud as the other, making it infinitely harder for him to stop the pulsing of his dick inside you. Armin was both equipped with girth and length, making the stretch unbearable, your hands that were wrapped around his frame clawed the skin, leaving stinging red lines behind their path.

“You’re so s-so good, just relax your body f’me, you’re too tight, nh-“ He rambled in your ear, barely able to pronounce his words at the sensation of your warm, wet pussy engulfing him whole. The feeling of the harsh wood underneath you was completely numbed by Armin as he pushed deeper and deeper, not an end in sight. You could feel the slightest movements, the two veins that ran along the underside of his dick, and the shivers that ran down Armin's spine, causing him to jolt his hips forward abruptly. “Just a little bit.. ah- more, taking me so well.” You felt the last of him slip inside you, your hips flush against his, stretching you out further than ever before. Your breaths were in unison for the minute or two you were rendered inert, the burn began to ease and the need for more had arisen.

Leeching onto his shoulders, you rolled yourself into him, a choked moan escaping his erubescent lips. Your eyes met in a moment of agreement, and his hips pulled back timidly before returning to their original position. Full body shudders erupted over your perspiring skin, he pulled back, only to push back in again, and out, and in, and out, and in, until it was a slow but fluent movement. You gazed up above you, to see the upturned brows and marginally parted lips, to which high-pitched whimpers and praises couldn’t help but fall out of. He was ethereal. Yet you wished for more, to stain every crevice and crumb of his being with adultery and filth. A sardonic pleasure in which you can bask in the knowledge that you and you alone have ruined him for anyone who dares to unveil his sheep’s cloak.

“Harder, min..” you moaned breathlessly into his ear, making his abdomen tense violently, attempting to keep himself from filling you up with his cum that very moment. Warm air tickled your ear before you were left with nothing but the tip of his dick inside you, that was until everything was inside you, in an instant. His cock split you open, gradually fucking you harder and faster till saliva was threatening to pour from the side of your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his torso, ankles interlocking to get him as far as possible. He reached his hand down to feel your stomach, pressing down so that he could feel his cock meet his fingers, “does it hurt taking it?” Armin questioned, with half-lidded eyes you looked below you. “Bit, not much anymore though… if I wanna be your slut- gotta get used to it.”

His hips stuttered, breaking the fast rhythm they had built up, and a loud groan slipped past his lips. His hands travelled to capture the backs of your knees, protracting your legs to rest over his broad shoulders. Resting his weight on your body your knees touched your chest, and his thick cock plunged itself deep inside you. “F-fuck Armin!” He soon regained his previous pace, the only sounds that graced your ears were the wet slaps of him pounding your pussy like no tomorrow, and the periodic thumping of the desk knocking on the thin walls. Armin coyly glanced to the side before perking up, “Such a good fucking slut for me, taking my dick like that-“ he choked on his words as he felt your pussy squeeze him desperately, the hand on your waist gaining a bruising force.

“If you tighten around my dick like that I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself…” good thing you didn’t want him to. Armin caressed your cheek with his free hand, before slinking it around the back of your head and pulling you up by the hair to meet his supple lips. You retaliated by biting down lightly on his bottom lip, making his thrusts increase in pace. His dick was kissing the head of your cervix as you whined broken sentences into his mouth, “r-ight, there.. ah! Min-“ he adjusted the angle of his hips to reach that spongey spot inside of you, your legs still being brutally folded in half with your feet dangling over his head.

“M’ gonna come..” the pressure had built and wrapped tightly around your core, drawing you closer and closer to the precipice of release. Armin relinquished the battle of your tongues, leaving a small string of spit between your swollen lips, and placed a thumb over your clitoris, swirling in rapid circles. “Mh- me too, come for me, angel.” And with that, your pussy was squeezing the life out of him like a vice, the two of you moaning loud enough to alert the whole building. “Can I- fill you.. up? Please?” You choked out a faint “yes” before you felt Armin's strokes begin to falter and eyes roll back in gratification. The warm sensation of his cum saturating your insides made you clench around him even tighter, drawing out every last drop as he watched himself fuck his cum back inside you.

“Ah! Such a, good, fucking, girl.” He panted, accentuating each word with a hard plunge. Before he slumped down to rest against you, holding your body tenderly in your hands while he ran another through your slightly damp hair. You felt the tensing of his muscles begin to alleviate, and your heart rate climbed back down to a moderate pace. Armin pulled out gently after taking a moment to regain his breath, even so, it hitched again when he saw his cum seep out onto the desk. “I’ll be right back,” he said, pecking you on the cheek before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth.

He came back to the sight of you, fucked out on his desk, legs trembling, and eyes fighting to stay open. “Sorry if it feels too sensitive, it’ll only be a second I promise.” He carefully dragged the towel between your legs, making you squirm as the fabric briefly brushed your clit, and down onto the table where it had seeped out. “C'mon, let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” Armin gently lifted you in his arms, your legs wrapping around him like a koala bear, before he carried you to the cramped bathroom. “I’m so sorry if I was too rough, just wanted to make you happy.” He said, hiding his face in the nook of your neck, “Don’t apologise, I liked it, a lot.” Armin blushed, rotating his head to the side as he turned on the hot water, placing you down on your feet but making sure to still hold you in case you didn’t have the strength to stand. “Me too…”

—x—

“Soooo Armin, what did you do yesterday?” Eren grinned, reclining back in his chair watching Armin's hand immediately halt as he glanced to the side blushing. “Oh- uh, just the usual, y’know studying..” he chuckled, now repeatedly clicking his pen up and down. “Oh yeah, I bet you were doing a lot of ‘studying’ with (name) last night.” Armin's tongue darted out to wet his lips, looking to the ground as he was too embarrassed to meet Erens mischievous gaze. “Yeah, we were um- well she asked me to tutor her.” Eren bounced his knee up into the desk three times with faint moans before smirking, “Did you forget who lives on the other side of your wall? You guys were loud as fuck, good on you though I didn’t know you had that in you.”

His hand came down to his knee, Eren slapping it carelessly while breaking out into a fit of laughter. Armin lightly kicked him under the desk, his face tomato-red as he glared at the guy sitting across from him. “Shut up, we’re in a library and people are staring!” Armin whisper-yelled. Eren went dead silent as he spotted you a table or two away, noticing a plethora of dark purple marks along your neck. “Goddamn, you were feasting on that shit.” Armin buried his head in his palms while Eren sat there eyes wide with shock. You felt someone’s gaze boring into the back of your head, turning around you spotted Armin and his best friend Eren. You waved over to Armin to which he mustered up a meek smile and waved back, Eren looked over at Armin with a shit-eating grin on his face before ushering you over.

“Hey (Name), I’m Eren, I think we’ve talked in one of our classes before.” You sat down in the chair next to Armin, positioning yourself to face Eren, “Uh yeah I think I remember you! Good to see you again.” You smiled, glancing over to look at Armin, whose eyebrow was twitching ever so subtly. “Oh I actually saw you this morning when you came out of Armin's room, sorry I didn’t say hi sooner.” Your neck snapped back around to Eren, the only thing coming out of your mouth being awkward chuckles. You’ve never seen someone so innocent-looking give the deadliest glare to someone before.

“(Name), do you wanna go on a date, right now?” Armin asked, entangling his fingers with yours. “I-I’d love to, but um, weren’t you hanging out here before I intruded?” Eren leaned forward in his chair, “Go on with Armin, it makes me happy to see him with a girlfriend after so long.” He said earnestly, neither of you confirming or denying the accusation before you both stood up leaving him with a small “thank you”.

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I don’t really like the starting bit it’s lwk cringey, but I prefer smut with some backstory so whatever 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️. Hope you enjoyed I know ts isn’t realistic for a first time but it’s fanfiction so who cares 🙏. I’m open to any requests also, as long as it’s not incest…

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