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voyter · 27 days ago

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NNN (NO NUT NOVEMBER) ! ... thanksgiving special

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.

word count. 8.9k 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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yoditopascal · 5 months ago

Text

Sweetest Pie

summary: The Worst Logan isn’t so bad after all. (logan/wolverine x fem black reader)

content warning: Wade is your best friend that’s a warning all on its own, some angst (like literally the tiniest bit) cussing, mutual pining, making out, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, dirty talking? (I’m so bad at writing it lmaoo), creampie, actual pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), dacryphilia, post DP&W, breaking the bed, scent kink, overstimulation, he technically sniffs your underwear??, Deadpool being Deadpool, MINORS DNI

a/n: The Sweetest Pie by Megan the Stallion is playing in the background while y’all fuck, that’s all.

tag list: @allmyn1ghts @figsnpassionfruits @dragonqueen89 @shebby-the-webby

Ducking down out of the way, Wade just barely makes it out of the line of fire as a glass mug hits the wall behind him, shattering on impact.

“You wanna run that by me again bub?”

“That was my favorite mug!”

“Repeat what you fucking said!” He snarls, hand balled into tight fists, it’s taking everything in his power not to maul the idiot with his claws….again

“All I said was you're more pent up than a nun doing squats in a cucumber field!” Wade said looking back at the wall, there was already a dent forming, one of many that had been popping up since the older mutant had decided to move in with him.

It's been 3 months since Logan started living with Wade and Blind Al and he’s about fucking had it. Laura had moved out after the first month, needing her own space, but she still frequently visited, he honestly was tempted to join her but figured she wouldn��t want her old man around all the time cramping her style.

Logan could feel a headache coming on as he pinched the bridge of his nose as Wade spoke again.

“You, my little honey badger, are lacking in the hanky panky department and no amount of self loving in the bathroom mirror at midnight is gonna fix that.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asked, sometimes he felt like instead of forming actual sentences Wade just put a bunch of random shit together so he could hear himself speak.

“Oh my gooood you’re so old, I’m talking about sex grandpa, you know, fucking? The horizontal hula? Bumping uglies? Filling the cream donut?”

“Stop.” Logan said with a look of disgust.

“I can smell your sexual frustration from here.” Wade groaned. “You need to spend a little less time brooding around the house like you're a DC character, and maybe spend a little more time doing hot yoga.” He was as he holds up a finger and boops Logan on the nose.

Logan swats his hand away but Wade continues paying no mind to his attitude as he points toward the front door.

“It just so happens that I know a great friend o’ mine who’d have absolutely no problems taming the beast for you bub and oh look at that, she happens to live right across the hall.” He said with a wink

“Don’t bring her into this.” Logan said, waving him off as he went to sit on the couch. Unfortunately Wade knew exactly how he felt about you, having figured it out during their whole ordeal with his variants, Paradox and Cassandra and the bastard had yet to let him live it down.

“Come on Wolvie you can cut the sexual tension you two have with a knife, it’s so thick!” He groans again, throwing himself on the couch beside him dramatically. “It might even be thicker than ours!” Wade said as he leans on Logan’s shoulder fluttering his scarred eyes at him. He shrugs him off, turning the tv on hoping the sound of whatever was on would drown him out but Wade just kept going.

“Stop being a pussy and talk to her!”

“Oh like how you talked to Vanessa?” He snapped back, his anger reaching its limit.

“First of all, we’re a working progress right now and second of all, ouch! Who hurt you?”

Growing tired of Wade and his endless jabbering Logan stood going to grab his jacket from the closet so he could leave.

“Where are you huffing and puffing off too big bad wolf?”

“Anywhere but here.” He said slamming the door shut behind him.

After a few drinks at Sister Margaret's and time to cool his head, Logan returns home to get some chores out of the way. He was far over due to wash his stuff and his hero costume was really starting to fuck with his nose, so, shoving a few handfuls of quarters from Al’s disco dust fund jar into his pockets,he loaded up his hamper and heads down to the laundry room in the basement.

Upon entering he almost immediately bumps into you. You were kicking the dryer when he found you, pissed because it ate your quarters, not paying attention to your surroundings at all.

Digging around in his pockets he bumps his shoulder to yours to get your attention. Startled you nearly jumped out of your skin as he held a hand up in surrender, not meaning to scare you.

“Sorry, just thought I’d offer up some of mine.” He said, pulling a handful of change from his back pocket.

“Oh. that’s ok, I’m-” you start but are stopped when he grabs your hands with one of his and unceremoniously dumps the change into your palms.

“I wasn’t suggesting, take 'em I got more than enough.”

With a silent nod you thank him as he shrugs you off with a “Don’t mention it.”

Logan starts to load up his laundry into the washer next to yours, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you toss your wet clothes into the dryer. You don’t notice as a piece of yellow fabric falls to the floor between you, Logan turns his head to say something, at first not realizing what it was, until it dawns on him that, holy shit, it's a pair of your underwear…and they had Wolverine on them.

They were boxer briefs, nothing inherently sexy about them, but the scent they gave off, clean laundry soap mixed with the smell of your core had Logan reeling.

A small smirk crawled across his face as he started to imagine you wearing them around your house, nothing else adorning your body except for an oversized tee shirt that looked eerily like one of his own, he thought it was cute. Turning his head back to finish his task he kept loading his clothes not showing interest in the underwear to keep from making things awkward. One thing he couldn't deny was your scent. The scent of your core that lingered on the fabric was making his head swim, it was utterly intoxicating, this definitely didn't help with growing his frustration.

After he loaded the washer he pulled a flask from his pocket taking a shot of liquor inside to compose himself as he realized you still hadn’t noticed you dropped them. “You uh dropped something sweetheart.” he nodded towards them. Horrified, you snatch them up and throw them in the dryer.

“Oh god I-I’m sorry! I-“ you start to stutter, at a complete loss for words you slam the dryer lid close and grab your basket ready to leave and hide away in your apartment for the rest of your life until Logan stops you with a strong hand that engulfs your wrist.

“No I-uh I get it. He was your hero right?”

“Yeah he was… but so are you!” You started but quickly press a fist to your forehead in frustration.

“Sorry I don’t want you to feel like you're obligated to live up to him or anything, you’re your own person! I just-“ you were interrupted by Logan closing the distance between you. In your frustration a few of your locs had slipped from your ponytail and were hanging in your face. Logan reached towards you moving one from your face tucking it behind your ear, his bright hazel eyes scanning you carefully taking in your features with a smirk.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, your scent was sending his sensing into overdrive, he could smell your sweat mixed with the soap you used with the spicy aroma of your arousal starting to peek through.

You look down to the ground still slightly embarrassed but mostly warm from the close proximity before you feel a finger lift your chin causing your gaze to meet Logan’s once more. “S-sorry I ramble when I’m nervous.” It came out almost as a whisper, causing Logan to chuckle. It was an annoying habit you had picked up from your best friend Wade over the years he noticed. The intensity of his stare was starting to send your stomach into knots but not in a bad way.

The sound of the laundry room door opening and closing as another tenant enters quickly separates them. Silently the pair looked away from each other as the tenant loaded up his belongings in the open washer. He quickly spared a passing glance between the two of you who awkwardly tried to stare at anything but each other before shrugging his shoulders and leaving.

An awkward silence blanket over the two of you as you shuffle your feet before you scooped up your basket again.

“Listen Logan-“

“Darlin I-“

You both started at the same time. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest causing your cheeks to feel warm. You smiled down at your feet and tucked another stray loc behind your ear before Logan spoke again.

“You first.”

“I was just gonna ask, did you maybe wanna come over for dinner tonight?”

Logan thought of a million different reasons why he shouldn’t. As if you could see the hesitation across his face you spoke up again.

“Before you say no, I got booze. Something a bit stronger than what I normally drink but it’s right up your alley. It was a gift from Wade.”

Of course it was from Wade.

“I’m also making pie.”

Well shit.

He let out a small sigh, looking down at your big pleading doe eyes before he shrugged; “Sure,why not.” Afterall how could he say no to you when you looked like that?

He could almost imagine Wade fist pumping the air in excitement at the aspect of the two spending alone time together, the blubbering idiot.

You flashed Logan another bright smile before heading to leave, you paused in the doorway for millisecond, before asking “See you at 7?”

“It’s a date doll.”

Seven o’clock rolled around much too quickly for either of them. Logan was busy fussing with his hair in the mirror trying to get the tufts of hair that usually stick up to lay down when Wade walked into the bathroom unceremoniously.

“Don’t you look positively ravishing tonight, got a hot date peanut?”

“Fuck off.” He growls, giving up with his hair and going to throw on a flannel over his wife beater.

“Wait, you do! Holy dick cheese Batman it’s finally happening!” Wade squealed excitedly

“What the hell are you even doing in here?” Logan asked in the doorway of the bathroom observing Wade, he was dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of hello kitty pajama pants and slippers, Logan rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Had to take a shit, thanks for asking, but don’t change the subject!” Wade said following him into the kitchen “Who’s the lucky gal?” He asked leaning on the island, his head propped dreamily on his fist. “Or guy we don’t judge here. Wait wait wait! It's not who I think it is, is it?”

Logan didn’t say anything as he guzzled down his drink pre-gaming for the night, turning to grab another from the fridge before plopping down on the couch behind him.

At his silence Wade kicked his feet and clapped his hands excitedly, swinging around in his seat to look at Logan. Mary Puppins barked from her spot on the couch beside him.

“Fuck the Bachelorette and Love Island! The producers are going to make a killing outta this!” He paced excitedly flopping down beside him struggling to keep his composure. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?! We are gonna make millions, no fuck that billions off your sex tape alone! I mean you two love birds are going to blossom in internal passion as the stars align with the future of the virgin Mary!” He said hugging Logan from the side.

Confused as fuck he shrugs Wade off him with a frown as he stands to his feet looking at his roommate with a raised brow. Downing the last of his beer he puts the empty bottle on the counter and heads for the door not wanting to be late.

“Oooh don’t forget to wear a condom, peanut! Remember wrap it before you tap it, before you attack her wrap your whacker! And if you’re not gonna sack it, come home and-!“

Logan slams the door shut before Wade could finish anymore of his bullshit.

He raised his hand to knock at your door but hesitated for a moment. Memories of the you from his timeline flooded his brain for a brief moment and he lowered his hand. He had really fucked you over royally in his own timeline and then you had died before he had a chance to fix that. Was he even worth your time in this one?

He shook the thoughts from his head and squared his shoulders, this was his second chance, a chance to fix all the shit he messed up before and he’d be damned if he was gonna waste this opportunity.

Just as he raised his hand to knock again you tore the door open with wide eyes.

“Logan hi!”

“Hey- you ok kid? You look outta breathe.” He questioned looking you up and down in concern while also unabashedly checking you out.

“Y-yeah I’m sorry I was about to come over and ask Wade if I could borrow something but I-it’s fine come on in!” you said ushering him in before the door behind you both.

The inside of your apartment is cute. The layout is much the same as his own place that he shares with Wade and Blind Al but yours just felt a little more homey to him.

Movie posters and works of art decorated your walls, there was a bookcase in the living room full of all kinds of books and knick knacks that you had collected over the years. On a table by the tv was a record player with a decent sized stack of vinyls. The whole place just screamed you.

“Dinner’s just about ready!” You said drawing his attention back to you. You had changed clothes since he last saw you in the laundry room, your outfit hugging your soft curves in all the right places.

“I was comin’ over to see if Wade had some ice cream for the pie, but I guess we could go without it.” You said leading him into the dining room with a smile, you’re always smiling at him, he noticed. “I hope you like blueberry!”

Logan never thought he'd see the day where someone would cook a nice meal for him let alone the variant of someone he treated so callously before.

He winced internally trying not to think about that. He was here now, not in his old shitty universe where you were gone, but in a new one, one where he had friends, a daughter, a family. It was a chance to start over.

“Sounds great darlin, I’m starving.”

Once you sit down for dinner Logan immediately tucks in, he could smell what you were cooking hours ago from across the hall and damn if it wasn’t the best thing he ever put in his stomach.

The two of you made light conversation as you ate, you poured yourself a glass of wine while Logan had the hard stuff, single malt scotch on the rocks. It had been a gift from Wade after one of his missions, an expensive one at that, and Logan savored every drop of it.

After a few more drinks the pair cleared their empty plates, wrapping up the leftovers of their meal up in portions so Logan could take some home with him. You were pulling the pie from the oven when you heard the telltale sound of running water, looking over you see Logan, rolling up his sleeves with a dish towel draped over his shoulder as he started to do the dishes.

You bite your lip to physically keep from moaning and embarrassing yourself on the spot, domesticity looked damn good on him.

His nose twitched as he smelled your arousal spike for a second, thinking it better to keep that to himself he shifted on his feet as he dried a dish and put it on the rack.

“You don’t have to-“ You started pulling off your oven mitts. They were Star Wars themed, nerdy like the rest of your apartment.

God you were such a geek! You thought flustered, while shoving them onto the counter behind you.

“Nah you cooked, it’s the least I could do.” He said not moving from his spot at the sink

“Logan.” You said firmly placing a hand on your hip. “You’re a guest.”

“And you cooked.” He reiterated,cocking an eyebrow your way. “I’m not budging on this darlin.”

You sigh defeatedly as you grab the towel from his shoulder. “Fine, at least let me help.”

The two of you do the dishes in silence, him washing and you drying, your fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“Dinner was great.” Logan said awkwardly trying to break the stifling silence that enveloped you.

“Good I’m glad you liked it.” You smiled down at your hands timidly, refusing to let him see you cheesing as hard as you were.

“Sorry for not being better company, I know you’re more used to people talkin’ your ear off.”

Wade begrudgingly crosses his mind.

"I'm just uh not so good with people. Makes me anxious.” He admitted, it took a lot for him to come out and say it but he was comfortable with you, he trusted you.

“I get it, I’m the same way that’s why I’m always around Wade. He usually does all the talking for me.” You say fondly thinking back to all the times Wade had been your emotional support extrovert.

Logan honestly had no idea how you put up with him.

“Besides I think your company’s just fine Logan, I like having you around.”

I like being around you too, he wanted to say but he couldn’t get it out. Instead he settled for brushing his shoulder against yours, a small smile dancing across his features as you smiled back up at him.

Flicking the water from your hand as you both finished up, you dry your hands on another rag before offer it up to Logan, his fingers brushing against yours for the umpteenth time that night.

When you look up he’s staring at you, his eyes taking in your features again, flickering between your face and your mouth. You can’t quite place what the emotion is behind his eyes but it makes your belly feel warm and your chest flutters.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you both had, though you know for a fact it takes a whole hell of a lot more than what you had to get you both drunk, but you could have sworn he was getting closer to you.

You start to back up just as he moves to close the distance between you. Chest to chest, or more like chest to sternum as he was almost a whole foot taller than you, Logan starts to lean down sniffing you as your back hits the counter behind you.

“Your heart’s racing.” He says

You had almost completely forgotten about his heightened senses. You were so nervous this whole evening, hoping that everything would go right, could he hear you this whole time? Oh god could he smell you?

“You smell good too.” He says moving to stroke your face with the back of his hand, confirming your fears. You clench your legs together tightly, hoping to at least dampen the smell of how wet you were becoming, causing him to chuckle.

“No use hiding it doll, I can smell you from a mile away.” He said leaning down so that his face is closer to yours.

“Logan…” you whisper. His eyes never leaving your mouth.

“Hm?”

“T-the pie…” You stuttered nervously as your own eyes drifted down to his mouth. You worked so hard on the pie you didn’t know if you’d hate it more if it went to waste or if he moved away from you at that moment.

You wanted more than anything for him to stay where he was, caging you in at the counter like a frightened little mouse.

“It can wait sweetheart.” He said, finally claiming your lips as his own.

He pulls back for a moment to look at you, dipping to place a gentle peck on your lips, as if he’s asking if this is ok.

You wrap your arms around him, dragging his mouth back down to yours, he moves his hands to the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto the counter behind you, grinding himself into you as the kiss deepens.

Logan hesitates in the kiss for a moment, pulling himself away from you as if he realizes something. When you try to lean back in and kiss him again he stops you, holding you at arm’s length searching your eyes for something, anything he could use to make you hate him in this timeline like you undoubtedly did in his old one but he found nothing but adoration.

“You-“ he starts to speak, his voice a little shaky “You don’t want this sweetheart, I’m not a good man.”

I’m not your hero, he meant to say.

You place a hand on his cheek rubbing softly at his mutton chops with your thumb.

“Please stop telling me what I fucking want.” You say leaning back in to peck at his lips. “I want you, not a hero, or this timeline’s Logan, or any other Logan out there, just you. You’re not the Worst Logan, you're just you and I want all of you.” You finish while leaning up into him, waiting for his response.

Raising an eyebrow and at a complete loss for words, having rarely heard you cuss, Logan smirks before leaning back down to meet you the rest of the way recapturing your lips with a “Yes ma’am.”

His right hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently running the pad of his thumb over the skin before running his hand up to weave his finger through your locs.

You hop off the counter, grabbing him by his flannel your mouth reconnects with his as you lead him into your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him.

You start to kiss down his jaw before Logan stops you with a growl. He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed before his lips reconnect with yours.

His hands find their way under your clothes to paw at you, as you free him from the confines of his flannel. Tossing it behind him, it hits your iPod dock causing music to start playing but neither of you care, too enraptured in each other to even notice. Logan pulls away from your mouth only long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his hands trailing down to pull down your pants and underwear next.

He grabs you by your hips dragging you to the edge of the bed, as he kneels down in front of you, eye level with your hot core.

You throw your head back with a moan at the first drag of his tongue. Your legs finding their way around his shoulders as he drags his nose and tongue up and down teasing you.

He presses his mouth against your clit, sucking on it before pulling away and flicking it with his tongue, drawing circles and nipping at it with his teeth.

Watching you through dark lashes, he drags his hand down your body bringing it to his mouth, he licks his finger, bringing it to your wet cunt as he slowly begins to move it in and out of you, curling it against your gummy walls searching until he finds the right spot. You let out a strangled half-sob as he leans back down pressing his mouth against your clit again, sucking and flicking at the hard nub.

“Shit,” you rasp out, reaching out for him. He knew you were getting close, he could tell from the way you pulsed around him as he added another finger.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your orgasm building. “Please, right there!” You choked, eyes closing as you threw your head back.

“So fucking wet for me already and I barely touched you.” Logan chuckles. You stifled a noise as your impending orgasm builds in your gut.

“I-I’m gonna-!” You start to cry out but are cut off by a sob.

“I gotcha darlin, I’m right here.” He mumbles into your pussy as he reaches his free hand out to hold your hips open for him, your hands frantically bury themselves in his hair, desperate for something to hang on to. He carries on lapping at you as you squirm talking you through your orgasm as he rubbed his nose to your clit, drawing it out of you as his fingers continue to fuck in and out of you.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He sighs as he keeps fucking you on his fingers, his intensity increasing as he latches himself back onto your clit devouring you like a man starved, you come almost instantly. It’s when he looks up at you, hazel eyes dark and hungry, that you finally lose it, your second orgasm of the night ripping through like a freight train.

Standing back to his feet Logan licks your residue from his lips and fingers, chin glistening with your slick.

You sit up immediately grabbing at his belt, fingers rushed and fumbling with the buckle, he replaces your hands quickly unbuckling it before pulling the hem of his shirt up over his head.

Reaching behind you, you free your chest from your bra, just as he kicks his pants off. Logan pushes you backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as he stalks over towards you on his hands and knees.

He inhales deeply through his nose taking in your scent, the aroma of you mixed with your arousal is intoxicating and is driving him absolutely feral, with a wet kiss he bites down hard where your neck and shoulder meet, where your scent’s the strongest, nearly drawing blood, before he’s back on you, covering your mouth with his own kissing you viciously as if you’d fade away from existence if he let you go.

He laps at the spot he had previously bitten you as he slowly pulls away, soothing the skin there. The mark was already gone, thanks to your healing factor, but god you could still feel it and you secretly ached that he’d do it again.

You soon feel the head of his cock running along your folds, it’s thick, and hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick hole. Then without warning he’s pushing into you, sheathing himself inside of you with a single thrust.

Logan threw his head back with a loud groan. He promised himself he’d go slow with you, take his take opening you up for him but fuck if this didn’t feel right, good it felt oh so good.

“Fuck” he grunts out into your mouth as he drops his head down to drag you into a hard smoldering kiss swallowing your moans as he sinks in fully.

He lets you adjust for a few moments before he pulls back and thrusts into you instinctively, repeating the harsh action as he begins to slowly pick up his pace. If you had been completely human, the force of his thrusts would’ve surely shattered your pelvis or at least threw them out of alignment.

Reaching up to grab onto the headboard of your bed to anchor himself Logan locks in fully, gripping the wood bar in a death grip as he pushes into you. You reach up too, grabbing a handful of sheets by your head with one hand and his hips with the other, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as Logan’s brutal pace has you reeling.

“L-Logan!” you cry out, body shaking from the force of his thrusts. His cock sinking deeper and deeper as he angles your legs over his shoulders, hitting that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly making your legs tremble in unadulterated pleasure.

An audible crack is heard from where Logan is still holding onto your headboard but you both could careless, your heads completely clouded over with lust.

Just when you were starting to think it was all too much, his thumb finds your clit again and starts to rub fierce quick little circles.

“Gimme one more darlin.” His voice is strained and rough, as he leans down to your neck inhaling your scent again as he licks up to your neck nipping at your jaw and neck as he pulls away.

You scrambled to get away, pushing at his chest as the over sensitivity was proving to be too much.

Logan lets go of the headboard and grabs both your hands with his much larger one, locking them firmly to his chest right over his rapidly beating heart.

“Don’t try and run from me kid, you wanted this remember?” He chuckled darkly, picking up his pace even more if that were possible.

Tears stream steadily down your cheeks as your barreling toward your next orgasm, it’s here, with your hair fanned out around your head, cheeks puffy and tear stained while you pant desperately trying to get away and keep up with him at the same time , that he thinks this is the most beautiful he’s ever seen you.

“Come on my dick, baby.”

Your body completely locks up at his words, your back arching off the bed as you scream, your orgasm wrecking through you as you clench around him like a vice. Logan drops your legs, yanking you up into a messy kiss as he takes you through it.

“Good fucking girl.” He grunts against your lips, he gives you a few moments to come down from your high, burying his face into your neck before he resumes his punishing pace.

You think you’re at your limit as fat tears fall from your eyes, never have you ever felt this good, this full before, it’s far too much for you.

Just as you were about to tap out, he grunts into your neck, his hands move to grip your ass bringing it up to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, tell me where?” He growls out. He wraps an arm around your back bringing you chest to chest as he fucks you on his lap, the new angle making him hit that sweet spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

At first you don’t quite understand what he’s asking, your brain too foggy to comprehend much of anything right now, but as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, nearly drawing blood again, you finally understood, he was close and so were you again.

“Inside, please I wanna feel you.” You whimpered as he pounds into you. He groans at your request and picks up the pace rutting up into you desperately like an animal. His hammering is deep and unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it feels too good to make him stop, you’ll definitely have a hard time walking in the morning.

With one last harsh flick of his thumb to your clit you’re coming hard on his dick, clenching around him as your body quivers uncontrollably, almost blacking out for a moment.

He growls as his hips stutter against your own, as he cums into you, the force of his final thrust knocking you both bad down onto the mattress. Logan thrusts a few more times, pumping his load as deep inside of you as he could, claiming your mouth once again in a deep searing kiss.

You run your hands through his hair as he nearly drops himself on you, his forearms supporting the weight of his adamantium skeleton. He’s still buried inside you as you're peppering his face and neck with light kisses.

It’s quiet for a moment before he lifts himself up, pulling himself from inside you with a grunt. He pushes stray locs from your face as he kisses your forehead and flops over onto the other side of the bed dragging you with him.

At the weight of his adamantium bones dropping down onto the already crack and barely hanging on frame your bed frame finally gives out dropping your mattress to the floor with a loud thud, startling the both of you.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You panted too shocked and tired to move from your spot on his chest.

“Sorry baby, I’ll get you a new one.” Logan laughs lightly as he pulls you to his chest.

A comfortable silence fills the room as the two of you lay on the floor, your breathing starting to return to normal. Leaning down to inhale your scent again Logan’s met with the pleasant tang of you covered in him and pulls you tighter snuggling you into him.

“You still with me?” The rough edge of his voice brings you back to your senses.

You smiled up at him from his chest with a big dopey smile, eyes completely dazed as you answered with an “mm-hm.” Too fucked out to fully speak properly. You laid back down on his chest, eyes closed as you shiver, he runs a hand up and down your spine as you start to drift off.

He chuckles at your response or lack thereof and pulls your sheets over the both of you. The temperature in the room had started to come down dramatically as your sweat covered bodies cooled in the night.

Just as Logan was about to close his eyes and join you in what was hopefully a peaceful night’s rest for the first time in years, your bedroom door bursts open revealing Wade, still clad in his hello kitty pajamas helping himself to a piece of the pie you had left out.

“Jesus Wade!” You yell eyes practically bulging out of your head as you scramble to grip the sheets to your chest.

“What the fuck asshole?!” Logan growled trying his best to shield you from view with his arms. His hazel eyes were seething with anger.

“My sweet virgin eyes!” Wade said, covering his eyes but still peeking through them through a gap in his fingers with a smirk as he chewed loudly. “You two sounded like an indoor jungle gym but instead of a shit ton of kids it's just you two.” He laughs shoving the rest of the slice into his mouth as he moves to sit on the edge of the broken bed on the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You, young lady, have some pipes on you. Could hear you practically singing about the Wolverine.~” he teases with a tsk.

“And you sir!” He points to Logan who growls at him as he swats his hand outta his face. “Where do I even begin?” He tsked again as he shook his head “You really had some pent up frustration didn’t you, you slut? Did you break her? I know she has a healing factor too but good god man have some restraint!” he leans back on her broken bed as he spreads himself out on the end.

“And her poor bed! I hope you're planning on replacing it, bee tee dubs.” Wade rolls over onto his side propping himself up on his elbow at the couple’s feet. “Did he even use a condom?” He whispered to you loudly before adding “Nice tits by the way.” as he winked at Logan. “I don’t think creampie was the type of pie she had in mind when she invited you over for dinner, old man.”

“Who knew Wolverine was a cuddler?”

You roll your eyes at Wade’s antics completely used to him over the years of knowing him but Logan on the other hand had clearly had enough. Ripping the sheets from himself you watch as Logan comically chases Wade out of the room, buck ass naked.

Slamming your bedroom door shut Logan turns the lock with a grunt, finally returning to your side he pulls you back to his chest and flings the sheets over you.

“He’s not so bad, y'know when you get used to him.” You shrug with your eyes closed as you snuggle into his chest. Adrenaline, now dying down, sleep had started to wrap you in its dreamy embrace and it was hard to keep your eyes open.

“That little cockroach is gonna be the death of me.”

You laugh at him one last time before finally drifting off. Your soft snores were the last thing Logan heard as he too snuggled into your warmth and drifted off.

Who knew the Wolverine was such a cuddler.

#logan howlett x black reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine imagine #wolverine smut #wolverine x black reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #SoundCloud

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rvllybllply2014 · 2 years ago

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#I’m fine I really am #it’s just midnight here and I’m icing 3 out of 5 fingers hoping they’re not broken #I’m crying my eyes out cause I’m just soul crushingly tired #and I feel so fucking stupid for letting it happen #my idiot boyfriend got drunk and started pulling on my fingers after I told to get his hands off my legs cause he’s hurting them #and this was after he hit my ass hard and pulled on my shirt almost ripping it off me #text post #personal #abusive behavior #should also mention he called me a bitch #he also bit my arm after the finger thing

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katsukistofu · 6 months ago

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i a-door you

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. cursing. food. minor unintentional violence. ⭑ bakugo hits on you. literally.

You’re minding your business, book bag slung across your shoulder, and about to walk through the door to 2A’s classroom when something smacks you in the face.

Not only unprompted, but hard.

“Ow!”

It happens so quickly that you don’t remember squeezing your eyes shut as you stumble backwards, both hands flying to clutch your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you swear you can already feel the spot starting to bruise. The previously closed door to the classroom stood ajar and as the cherry on top of the concussion you just received, someone roughly brushes past you.

Fucking asshole.

You whip around, head still throbbing, about to give whoever it is a peace of your mind and finally speak above an inside voice for the first time since a robot almost fell on you during entrance exams semesters ago, when your teary eyes are met with crimson red ones.

He turns his head to give you a once over and your body freezes as his eyes linger a little longer on the darkening mark where the door got you. Something similar to amusement tugs at his lips.

“Pretty cute.”

You blink, dumbfounded as he casually turns on his heel to walk away.

What. The hell.

Did you literally just get hit on by Bakugo freaking Katsuki.

The identical dropped jaws of your classmates that were visible from inside the open doorway confirmed that what just happened was not in fact a post-traumatic induced hallucination, with Midoriya looking the most gobsmacked, his eyes almost comically bulging out of his skull, and upon glancing at Mina, who quickly gets over her initial shock to grin and shoot you a double thumbs up, she excitedly mouths ‘i told you so,’ and you’re not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ

The next day, you’re sporting a fresh, new bandaid on your forehead. It was quite a fashion statement, if you do say so yourself.

It was also the last one at the nurse’s so you were pretty happy to nab it, apparently being the brand that everyone chose when they too got their respective boo-boos.

The latte Mina and the girls brought back from your favorite cafe sat on the wooden coffee table in the common area, still steaming. You refused to go out with a huge bruise marring your appearance, even with the bandaid covering the most of it, and you would take the fullest advantage of the injured person princess treatment while it lasted.

All while awkwardly avoiding a certain blond.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he’s honestly always been kind of nice to you, in his own weird way.

Like when you were forced to ask if you could borrow his eraser, because apparently no one else in the class carried one. Imagine saving Japan your first year of highschool and only writing in pen, even for calculus. Is this what the future generation has come to?

After breathlessly rushing the words out in a hushed voice and wondering if he heard you at all, Bakugo doesn’t even turn around from where he’s resting his chin on his hand listening to Present Mic’s enthusiastic lecture on subject-verb agreement, as he reaches an arm behind him to drop it on your desk.

You’re not sure if you remembered to say “your” before “eraser,” so all he probably heard was “can I borrow eraser?” and it still haunts you to this day.

Shaking the thoughts of him from your mind, you flip your history textbook open to page three hundred and ninety four, ‘A Comprehensive Timeline of Quirk Generations.’ You’re attempting to study for your next upcoming quiz in Midnight’s class.

Key word: attempting.

A delicious smell was starting to waft your way from the kitchen across the room, and now you were kind of hungry. You could feel your attention waning and shook your head, the image of your most recent report card filled with straight As sobering you up. Food could come later, right now you had to focus.

Just twenty more minutes of review, then I'll eat.

Bakugo’s placing the breakfast he easily finished whipping up on the counter. As he uses a spatula to gently coax the fluffy soufflé pancakes out of the pan, he notices the familiar petals of your favorite flower decorating the ceramic he’s putting them on.

It was from a tableware set he picked out when everyone first moved into the dorms. Glasses had assigned everyone groceries among various other things to go shopping for in small groups, and he was paired up with Ponytail to go buy plates.

They were browsing the shelves of a local Daiso store filled with colorful, adorably decorated dishes and rice bowls, when he stopped in front of a price tag, eyes dragging up to study the item it belonged to. The details on it were intricate, and breathtakingly so.

It reminded him of how he felt whenever he looked at you.

Ponytail follows his gaze, and her own eyes brighten.

“Oh, it’s decorated with the favorite flower of–!”

“I know.” He cuts her off, glaring at the floral box set of bowls and plates, before carefully putting it in their cart.

Momo’s eyes widen a bit, before a small, knowing smile spreads across her lips and Bakugo curses at her perceptiveness.

He almost wished he was paired up with that icy-hot bastard instead, who was so oblivious that if you dangled a confession letter in front of him he would have thought you wanted him to proofread it for you.

That was a while ago now, and everyone’s been happily eating meals on the plates they bought ever since.

He tops off the pancakes with a handful of fresh berries and a drizzle of honey, and slides it next to a steaming plate of a kimchi omelette with a zigzag of sriracha sauce already on the counter.

From where he stands, he snorts at your bandaid, noticing the obnoxious amount of Hello Kitty’s plastered all around it. Out of all the bandaids from Recovery Girl’s collection that she kept in her office, of course you would pick the cutest fucking one.

It was undoubtedly something you would like, he thinks, begrudging in his fondness. It was so you.

“Get your ass over here.”

You jump in your spot on the couch at the loud volume of his voice, though it sounded a bit softer than usual. With a finger pointing to yourself, you raise your head in confusion. “Me….?”

Was this about yesterday? Oh my god, was he mad?

You’re not sure why he would be, since he’s not the one that got bitch-slapped in the face by a giant door.

“I don't see anyone else I'd be talking to.” Bakugo scoffs.

He's right, to your increasing dread. The entire common area is completely empty, and you have no choice but to comply with his request.

You’re still nervously fiddling with the edge of your hoodie sleeve, the usual comfort of its softness abandoning you as you approach the kitchen to find him standing at a seat near the counter, arms folded. It hasn’t even been a minute in the same proximity as him and his presence is kind of overwhelming you already.

You’re trying so hard not to stare at his biceps. And just him in general.

“Sit.” he commands, the sound of the metal stool echoing against his hand as he pats it.

You obediently sit down, cursing your lack of a backbone. But his tone didn’t sound like he was planning to take no for an answer, anyway.

“Eat.”

He jabs a thumb at the plate of warm, sweet smelling cloud-like goodness in front of you. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“This is for me?”

“Huh. You’re slower than I thought you were.” He rolls his eyes and starts to dig into his own plate of omelette in front of him, taking a seat on the stool across from you. It looked good too, as expected. “You’re welcome or whatever.”

With his aggressive blessing and after throwing a quiet but extremely grateful ‘thank you for the meal’ his way, you start to eat.

Your face lights up in joy as the divine taste of spongy goodness and honey spreads across your tongue, and you silently praise his mom for giving birth to the next Gordon Ramsay.

He flicks your forehead as you’re mid-bite in pancake and you yelp in surprise, raising your head to glare at his handsome face. What now? And did he have to be as infuriating as he was good-looking?

That crimson gaze once again stares you down, barely contained amusement dancing in embers of the hot coals of his eyes, and your skin grows warm as you realize you said that last part out loud.

You’re about to give into the urge to run away and take the plate of half-finished pancakes with you when he gruffly speaks up.

“You can’t retain information unless you have something in your stomach, idiot.”

You nod, mouth full, and make a mental note to study on an empty tummy away from him in the future. It’s like he reads your mind because you wince as he scowls, flicking your head again, although a little more gently this time.

Taking care to do it in a spot away from the bandaid covering the injury that he caused, your brain points out.

The both of you continue to eat in comfortable silence.

After a while, your plates are nearly clean.

You smile a little, realizing that you were eating on your favorite plate in the dorm’s kitchen the whole time, and admire the petals of your beloved flowers delicately painted in the center and outer edges of the stark white dish, with the pancakes no longer covering them.

Bakugo notices this, as you softly begin to trace the rim with your finger, and fights the twitch of his lips that threatened to curl upwards.

He’s also noticed those little glances you think you’ve been discreetly throwing his way between the bites of pancake, which you nearly inhaled to his pride.

You could almost be as quiet as that rock-faced animal whisperer of a classmate you both had, but you’ve always sucked at being subtle.

Good thing he hates subtle things.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as you start to slide off the tall stool, a hint of smirk in his voice. It was cute, how you think you could run away from him so easily. You stop in your tracks, blinking at him as he rises from his own seat.

Strong, toned arms that you totally haven’t been staring at for the past half hour are slowly placed on both sides of you, caging you against the counter. An embarrassing noise escapes from your lips, and the cold granite bites into your back as you lean away, doing anything to avoid his gaze.

“Look at me.”

He rolls his eyes as you continue to look to the side, suddenly finding the chibi magnets of various high ranking heroes on the fridge to be very interesting.

“I said,” he grabs your chin in his hand, which was so big compared to your face that he could squish your cheeks between his ring finger and thumb, “look at me.

You huff, now forcefully held in place to face him against your will. “I’m looking.”

“Good.”

He leans down and his lips graze your ear, seeming to take great pleasure in only further adding to your embarrassment when he mutters:

“And don’t stand so fucking close to the door next time.”

not bakugo pulling the classic asian parent move and giving u food instead of a proper apology LOLL

#crosses fingers I TRIED TO MAKE HIM AS CANON AS POSSIBLE #bro would tweak if ur grades dropped bc u didn’t eat 3 meals a day LIKE HOWS HE SUPPOSED TO COMPETE W U ON THE CLASS RANKINGS NOW #i think he’d def be softer with someone he crushes on but still kinda strict slash stern ykwim #tough love babey #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugo oneshot #bnha x reader #mha oneshot #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff

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