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uravichii · 1 month

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"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #bakugo katsuki drabbles #bakugo drabbles #bnha drabbles #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki fluff #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

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HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit

- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!

Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day

you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝

Yandere playboy x reader

Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior

💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?

💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house

💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times

"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"

💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..

💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can

💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity

💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.

"my love..? Is that you!?"

"..who?"

💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..

💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.

💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them

"...slut."

💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..

💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.

💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register

"thank you, please come again-"

💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love

"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."

💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #queenie writes #queenie ocs #ocs #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #Yandere oc x reader #Oc x reader #Oc #Kameron the playboy #yandere headcanons

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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party on you (explicit)

genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT with an extremely small side of fluff lol

pairing: hoseok x reader

summary: the only thing stronger than your social anxiety is your big dumb crush on hoseok - and you're certainly not expecting it when he tells you the real reason he threw this album release party.

word count: 9.8k

contains: explicit sexual content aka PORN !!!! idol-verse, literally takes place at the JITB album release party, friends to lovers, erotic hand holding, they're both cute and dumb, a studio hookup 👀 dirty talk, thigh riding, cunnilingus, a single pussy slap lol, taint touching (?), HOBI EATS ASS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, throat fucking, reader gets a facial, and a lil bit of cum eating, it's cute 😌

A/N: so, hi, i went to hobipalooza lmao. this is actually lowkey a songfic ??? charli xcx was one of the earlier acts on hobi's stage and. my god. seeing her live was a religious experience, and when she performed party 4 u i was like hnnnhghg this should be a fic. and now it is !!!! and i hope u enjoy 🥺🥺 i tried some new stuff in here, both soft and freaky lmao so i'm nervy to share!!! as always your support and feedback means the world to meeeee ok ilysomuch bye~

read on AO3 !

~*~

You collapse back against the cushions of your couch with a soft whine of distress.

The whole thing is really so ridiculous. You told yourself when this started that you could be chill about it. People get crushes every day. It doesn’t have to be a huge fucking deal. You’re a sane, rational adult, perfectly capable of admiring a man quietly from afar while doing your best to be a good friend to him.

And, yes, maybe also obsessing a little too much over what to wear when you hang out, and what to post on Instagram in case he might see it, and dear god, how long his hair is getting. All normal crush things.

But now, as you press your phone to your chest with both hands and sigh forlornly, you wonder if it might actually be possible to yearn yourself to death. To like somebody so much that your heart just fucking explodes. If anyone could be capable of inciting spontaneous combustion, it is absolutely Jung Hoseok.

And he wants you to come to his big fancy party– has specifically sent a day-of reminder text, like you didn’t already receive a formal invitation weeks ago.

You purse your lips, fighting to keep a smile off your face despite being alone in your apartment where no one can perceive you. Hoseok is always so good at keeping in touch, even when he’s in an insanely busy season of his life. You can picture him now, probably bustling around his place in a robe, getting ready while simultaneously sending everyone their own personalized message.

Everyone– when you last chatted about the party, he rattled off enough of the guest list for you to know that easily half the industry will be there tonight. And even Lizzo has gushed about how great of a texter he is. You try to ease yourself off the ledge with the comforting thought that this has to be just one courtesy text of dozens, his pretty painted thumbnails working overtime to send gratuitous emojis out to every idol in the city.

And somehow also to you. Because your big fat crush made you stupid enough to say yes to what is arguably your worst nightmare: A party full of cool famous people, where you will know no one except the guest of honor.

Skipping the party is not an option becomes your internal refrain as the hours tick by. You have to remind yourself of this even more emphatically when you wind up on the floor of your bedroom, having tried on every article of clothing in your closet and having decisively hated it all.

Skipping the party is not an option, you think again, grabbing your phone to check the clock. Your heart sinks when you realize how much time you’ve wasted being an anxious wreck– you had planned to be ready to leave five minutes ago, not laying half-naked on the floor, hair and makeup still undone.

But skipping the party is not an option. A pre-party cry, however, might be on the table.

Pushing yourself up to sit on your heels, you force the tears back while you aimlessly sort through a pile of clothes. You’re barely looking at what’s in front of you, but you pause to do a double-take as your hand passes over a particularly enjoyable texture.

When you manage to extract the item, you realize it’s a dress you’d forgotten about entirely– something a friend made you buy a lifetime ago that you’ve never worn because you’ve always been uncomfortable with how short it is. But it’s smooth baby pink satin, and as different from your usual as it may be, you recall not being mad about the way it stuck to your curves like water.

Fuck it. You’re already late, and if there’s ever a party where you can take a fashion risk, it’s one thrown by Hoseok. You can only imagine what he might have on tonight; it honestly wouldn’t surprise you if he showed up in the same fucking dress.

The thought of seeing him is enough to make your heart leap in your chest, and you do your best to speed through your usual makeup and hair routine despite the way your hands are starting to tremble. By the time you grab your purse and make it out the door, you’re thirty minutes late. That thirty minutes quickly stretches into a full hour before you’re stepping off the elevator onto the 19th floor of HYBE headquarters, feeling like an asshole.

Gorgeous idols and various other famous people stream in around you, dressed in clothes that appear casual but you’re sure cost double your monthly rent payment, looking less than unbothered about showing up late. You do your best to slip in unnoticed and stick to the perimeter of the massive room, feeling like an absolute fraud.

Thankfully it’s only a few steps before you find a table taken up entirely by pre-filled flutes of champagne, and you eagerly grab one, mostly just grateful for something to do with your hands.

It occurs to you how little you know about celebrity culture, because the party doesn’t even seem to have started yet: early 2000s R&B is bumping through the speakers, and it feels like every few minutes the elevator chimes to let another group of people trickle into the space. You find an unoccupied section of wall to lean against as you sip your drink slowly, hoping that if you try hard enough, you might actually manage to become one with the wallpaper.

Tipping your head back for another sip of champagne, you nearly choke at an unexpected voice from over your shoulder.

“You look like you hate parties as much as I do.”

You manage to not inhale your drink, instead giving a polite smile as your eyes drift across the crowded room. You’re too nervous to immediately steal a glance at whoever is speaking to you, though you’re sure it just makes you seem rude. “Hate isn’t exactly it.” You have nothing against parties, or people who enjoy them. “I just… haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to be doing, exactly.”

“I think talking to people is generally expected,” the voice quips. “So, hey, you’re doing great already. Keep it up and they might even think you’re an extrovert.”

You exhale a soft laugh, a slight heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“But Hobi said I didn’t have to meet and greet if I didn't want to. So I’m taking that as full permission to enjoy free alcohol and read webtoons on my phone.”

Your gaze snaps over at the familiar nickname, and your mouth goes dry as you realize you’ve been casually conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin, who is absentmindedly fiddling with the thin green strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.

Fuck. Embarrassing yourself in front of random famous people was exactly what you were trying to avoid when you picked this wall to lean against. You’d figured the other members would all be out mingling in the center of things, not hiding in a corner. Who knew celebrities were just like you?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, immediately dropping your gaze to avoid making eye contact when Jin looks up. He probably assumed you’d sidled up next to him on purpose, like some kind of creepy fan. “I’ll leave you alone, I actually really didn’t mean to–”

You glance up again only to realize Jin is laughing, shoulders shaking slightly.

“Wow, I’m so bad at this. That wasn’t me telling you to fuck off. I was just trying to sympathize.” He gestures lazily towards the stage at the front of the room. “Thankfully it looks like you don’t have to suffer my conversation any longer.”

A Jack in the Box graphic has started to flash, projected onto the screen. After a few seconds, the image stills, and a spotlight clicks on, following Hoseok as he emerges from backstage. You lean forward to set your drink on the closest table so you can join in the applause for him.

Hoseok looks as effortlessly cool as he always does, but even more so tonight, like someone has cranked his charisma up to the max setting. A real fucking popstar, a rockstar, even: baggy clothes, multiple layers of necklaces, chunky black boots, dark hair pushed back with a few strands falling into his eyes. He somehow even manages to make wearing sunglasses indoors look cool– probably because they’re immediately offset by the wide, sweet grin of his mouth as he addresses the crowd. You can hear that he’s nervous by how hard he’s trying to keep his voice even, and it’s enough to make you feel the flutter of butterfly wings in your throat.

As you pick your drink back up for another sip, you can’t help but wonder if Jin can literally see the hearts in your eyes, or a nervous little teardrop floating above your head like an anime character. You do your best to hide your smile behind your glass.

“J-Hope is pretty cool, huh?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, answering Jin’s question with a shy nod.

Hoseok descends the stage as the lights lower, and then the album intro is starting and there’s no more time for conversation. You watch from across the room as he drops down on the large built-in stairs next to Jungkook, who immediately wraps a supportive arm around his waist while Hoseok laughs like he’s embarrassed. You’ve always been in total awe of the way Hoseok can light up and command the energy of a room easily, then squirm away from it at the next second.

Jin gets waved over and gives you a small nod as he departs, and then you’re alone again with the champagne in your hand and the wall against your back and Hoseok’s music thrumming through your nervous system.

The album is nothing like you expected– you didn’t know what to expect, really– and you absolutely love it. You’ve always felt like you have a stupidly limited vocabulary when it comes to talking about music, particularly around Hoseok, but even you can manage to string together the thought that these songs are fucking special.

But then again, so is he.

In what feels like the blink of an eye Hoseok is taking the stage again to giggle through his thanks, bent slightly at the waist in overwhelmed appreciation, and then the pop playlist is switched back on and the lights are dimmed and you suddenly feel your palms start to slick up against your champagne flute.

You can’t help but wonder what the fuck you’re supposed to do now.

The obvious choice would be to finally go talk to Hoseok, but of course, he’s the man of the hour, so every other person in the room seems to have the same idea. You choose to hang back and watch as he weaves through the growing crowd, putting on a bored expression to pose for pictures, laughing excitedly as people shake his hand and speak to him in hushed tones, and flashing thumbs ups and peace signs left, right and center.

It looks exhausting, you think to yourself with a small smile. And this is why you’re not famous.

For the second time tonight someone manages to sneak up on you, and this time it’s accompanied with a gentle call of your name. You nearly drop your drink as you whip around.

When you find yourself face-to-face with Park Jimin, it takes a few seconds for you to remember how to close your mouth. What is going on?

“I thought that was you.”

You double-blink, unable to find any words at all. You have never met this man before in your life. Seen him dozens of times on your TV screen, sure, but certainly never formally introduced.

“I’m Jimin,” he says, and you have to swallow the urge to giggle in his face because, yeah, no shit.

“Hi, Jimin.”

“Hoseok is going to be excited that you’re here.” Jimin scrunches his face up a little, like he knows he shouldn’t be telling you this. “He kept asking me if I thought you would show or not. He really wouldn’t shut up about it.”

You find yourself stammering again, trying to figure out how the hell to respond. Why, out of everyone on the guest list, would Hoseok be concerned about you? And he’s talked to Jimin about you enough for him to know who you are, that he can recognize you on sight alone? Your head starts to spin, despite the fact that you’re only halfway through your glass of champagne.

“Since you don’t like parties,” Jimin says, like it’s common knowledge, as if it’s totally normal for this very busy and famous kpop idol to keep tabs on your socialization preferences.

You nod dumbly. “I, yeah. I’m just not very good at them.”

Jimin nods, pushing up the sleeves of his white Chanel sweater. “You just have to get comfortable with talking to people about boring shit. Did you try the food?”

You shake your head– the very thought is enough to make you feel a little sick. “I get, like, a nervous stomach?” You hate that it comes out like a question when it clearly isn’t.

“Aish, you and Hoseok are so alike,” Jimin rolls his eyes, hands on hips, but you can see he’s smiling a little. “I haven’t been able to get him to eat anything all day. And we ordered so much food, I don’t even know why. Like half the people in this room aren’t on fucking diets.”

“Jimin-ah!”

Both of your heads snap up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice from the other side of the room, distorted slightly by the thudding bass.

“Ahh, they’re doing pictures,” Jimin says with an exaggerated sigh, like it’s just so hard being desirable and photogenic. “Do you want to get a photo?”

You shake your head as emphatically as possible. “No, nope, absolutely not.”

Jimin pauses, squinting at you for a second in a way that makes you think that if you were closer friends, he’d be dragging you across the room regardless of your answer to the question. You watch as he clearly attempts to restrain himself.

“Well, don’t drink too much on an empty stomach, okay? I’ll make you a to-go plate of food before you leave.” He starts to walk backwards away from you, raising his voice a little so you can still hear him. “And please talk to Hoseokie when we’re done! Maybe then he’ll calm the fuck down!”

You can’t hide the smile that blooms across your face, and Jimin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis before turning around and pressing his way through the crowd to the photo wall.

The members take turns passing Hoseok around, punctuated by the snap of the camera: pinching his cheeks, leaning into him, clinging to his shoulders, wrapping an arm around his neck. You laugh out loud when Taehyung hikes a leg up high on Hoseok’s hip and tips back, a hand draped across his forehead, eyes shut, so fucking dramatic.

Hoseok stares down the camera like a professional, only to immediately dissolve into giggles between shots, tongue poking out between his teeth like he can’t quite handle all the attention. It’s enough to have you nearly fighting for your life.

The members crowd in for a few group shots, posing cutely until Jimin finally waves everyone back off to the dancefloor. He keeps Hoseok behind with one hand gripping his bicep, and your heart drops into your stomach when Jimin leans in to whisper something in Hoseok’s ear.

Oh, fuck.

You try to calm yourself down, reasoning that he could be talking about any number of important things, but then Jimin pulls Hoseok’s sunglasses off his face, turns him unmistakably in your direction, and gives his shoulders a hard push. It’s clear Hoseok doesn’t quite know where he’s going as he stumbles forward and squints at the party lights, so you throw back the last of your champagne for some assistance, set the empty flute on a table, and force yourself to be brave.

You run your palms nervously over the sides of your dress, trying to focus on the feeling of smooth satin as you cross the room to meet him.

“Hobi.” His eyes find yours and you watch as his face, still in party mode— all perfect straight lines and severe grace and supermodel apathy— softens, brightens.

“Oh thank god, you made it,” Hoseok huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Come here.”

He pulls you in for a hug, not the lazy one-armed greetings you’ve seen celebrities give each other all night but a real, solid embrace, both arms crossed firmly over the small of your back. You press your nose into the crook of his neck, the thin fabric of his tank top brushing against your skin. Heat radiates off of him in waves, and he smells so good, like expensive cologne. It’s dizzying.

“Hi,” you murmur, and it’s punctuated with a soft giggle when you realize you’re speaking directly into his collarbone. You move to extract yourself, but his grip tightens.

“Five more seconds,” Hoseok says with another half-laugh, and you gladly allow yourself to melt back into his arms.

He sounds slightly hoarse, you notice, probably from talking all night. You think for easily the millionth time that you have no idea how he does it, but this moment of softness makes you wonder if being the life of the party is a little more difficult than he lets on.

Hoseok hums a little, and the feeling rumbles through your chest, buzzing all the way down to your fingertips like an electric current. When he finally releases you, it’s with a soft sigh, something that almost sounds like reluctance. Your heart backflips at the thought.

The lights flash waves of rainbow color over his face, each one painting his perfect features with a slightly different energy: pink, blue, orange, green. You momentarily forget how to talk, but Hoseok doesn’t miss a beat.

“Are you having fun?”

You nod as decisively as you can. “I’m just awkward, but that’s not your party’s fault.” He giggles, gaze flitting nervously around the room, as you continue. “Seriously, it’s a great party. And I’m not just saying that because you have free booze.”

“Did you want more?” He asks quickly, then seems to think better of it. “Or, well, how much have you had? Do you need water?”

You smile a little despite yourself. “I’m fine, Hobi, thank you. You have better things to do tonight than look after me because I nursed a single glass of champagne. And besides, Jimin already tried to mother hen me earlier.”

A look of serious anguish crosses Hoseok’s face, and he glances back over his shoulder, but Jimin has evaporated into the crowd of beautiful people. “God, I specifically told him to leave you alone.”

You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. He was sweet.”

Hoseok’s gaze lands back on you, and it feels like your chest lights up from the inside out. You almost can’t look directly at him– it’s not unlike staring into the sun. You blink up at him once, twice, more than dazed, and then he laughs again, nose scrunching slightly as if to cringe at himself.

“Agh, I feel awkward. I don’t know what to say.”

You’re smiling, too. “That’s okay,” you say, because it is. You’re perfectly content to just stand here with him, unconcerned with the chaos of the party around you.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“And– well, I guess you’ve never been here before, right? Can I give you a tour? I can take you downstairs and show you my studio.”

Your cheeks start to burn from all the questions, from how fixed his gaze is on you. It’s overwhelming. “Hobi, this is literally your party. You should stay here. I was doing fine holding up the wall over there.”

“Come on, I really want to. Please?” He leans in towards you slightly, glancing around as if to make sure he’s not being overheard. When he speaks into your ear, his voice drops to a lower register for privacy, and you can’t ignore the chills that dot up your spine. “I can’t talk to one more person that isn’t you right now.”

You nod, every nerve ending in your body now hyper-aware of how very close he is to you. “If you’re sure. I’d like that.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, and you breathe a soft giggle at how ridiculous it is that he’s the one thanking you at this moment. Before you even realize what he’s doing, his hand finds your hand, delicate fingers intertwining with yours. The skin of his palm is soft and warm. “Let’s go.” He chases the words with a gentle squeeze.

Hoseok leads you into the elevator and presses the button for a lower floor. You’re a little surprised when he slumps back against the wall with a heavy sigh as the doors close, still holding your hand.

“Oh, I’m tired.” He says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself rather than to you. “It just hit me now. That was a lot.”

You squeeze his hand back, and his eyes flutter open to look at you. You press yourself up against the wall next to him. “You sound like me after any social event. And here I was thinking all night that you made it look so easy.”

Hoseok smiles. “I’m good at faking it. But I always collapse after stuff like this.” His eyes drift away from you and he stares into the empty space in front of him, his expression darkening slightly. “I just really hope they liked it. It’s so hard to tell what people think, or who’s only bullshitting you when they tell you it’s good. I’d rather they be honest with me.”

“Well, if it means anything, I loved it.” You say softly, your eyes searching his face. “And I’m not a bullshitter.”

Hoseok blinks, then nods once, his eyes not meeting yours. “You’re not. I appreciate that.”

The chime of the elevator seems to snap him somewhat out of his headspace, and he tugs on your joined hands to pull you through the doors as they slide open. “It’s just at the end of the hall.”

There’s something about Hoseok that comforts you all the way to your core, laps gently at the edges of your shyness until it recedes a bit. He just makes you feel like you can say anything without fear of judgment. Conversation comes easier with him, like this.

“How do you feel about it?”

“The album?” He asks.

You shrug. “Everything.”

“I’m very nervous,” Hoseok answers immediately with a bright peal of laughter, squeezing your hand again for emphasis. “I’m working really hard but… it all feels like uncharted territory. It’s so different to do it alone.”

His eyes jump from studio door to studio door as he leads you down the hallway. “I don’t know if people are going to like this side of me or the things I have to say. I don’t know if anyone will still care now that it’s just me. And ugh, I’m so unsure about the music festival. I’ve never done a whole show on my own before. I practice so much every day and I still don’t know if I can do it. Or if it will be any good.”

When he stops you outside of the final door at the end of the hallway, he seems to remember himself. “Wow, look at me. You were probably only being polite and I threw so much at you. This is just what goes around in my head. Every day and every night.”

“You sound stressed,” you say softly.

Hoseok purses his lips for a second. “I guess. I just really want to do well. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I would– what?”

It isn’t until he asks the question, regarding you with a confused expression, that you realize you’re shaking your head. The smile that has crept across your face is a mixture of disbelief and appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you’re practically laughing. “Please, keep going.”

“No, no, what is that face?”

You chew on the corner of your lip, trying to figure out the best way to word it. “I just… I don’t want to dismiss your concerns, because I absolutely understand all of them. And I would be shitting a brick, no question. But you…” Hoseok’s eyes widen a little as you pause, drinking him in, the way concern tugs down the corners of his mouth. “You just have no idea. No idea what it’s like to watch you from out here. And I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

He pauses as if to consider your words. “What do you see?”

You don’t even have to think about the answer. It feels as steady and honest as the beat of your heart behind your ribs. “I see a fucking star. I see somebody who was born to do exactly what he’s doing. And, I mean, I think being nervous is a good thing, and I don’t say this to try and invalidate how you’re feeling at all. But I don’t see any possible future where you don’t succeed, Hoseok. It’s just... not an option. You’re going to get up there and kill it, I know you are. Because it’s you.”

Hoseok’s hand slips out of yours, and you can feel the warmth of his palms as he presses them to your waist to pull you close. Anticipation sparks through you. His eyes search yours intently, like he’s looking for something. “You really feel that way?”

“Completely. There’s no doubt in my mind.” Your gaze drops to his mouth, the way his full lips are parted slightly, and it occurs to you that maybe you’re talking about more than one thing now. “It feels predestined, to me… I don’t know. Inevitable.”

Hoseok makes a soft noise as he continues to close the distance between you. “Inevitable?” You tilt your chin up towards him, every cell in your body humming. “Like this?”

The way he kisses you is so gentle and sweet, you swear your heart leaps into your throat. You allow a second, maybe two, to move your mouth against his and get lost in it, and then you force yourself to break away, your mind reeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“Hoseok,” you murmur, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to navigate the discomfort of being vulnerable. “I– you should know that I really, really like you.”

“Really?”

The shock in his voice makes your eyes snap open again, and you can’t help but make a face of utter disbelief. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t realize how other people see me. You’re actually very hard to read.” Hoseok slips one hand off of your waist to push down on the door handle behind you, then gestures for you to step through. He keeps talking as he follows in after you, letting the door shut behind him. “I second-guess myself all the time with you. Jimin is so fucking tired of hearing about it.”

“Wow,” you say dumbly. “I had no idea.”

“You didn’t even text me back about tonight! I had no idea if you were coming.”

You start to laugh as the realization washes over you: you’d been so busy sighing forlornly and stressing about what to wear, you’d forgotten to actually reply to his messages.

“Okay, this time was actually an accident. But…” You sweep your gaze over his studio, trying to think. “I don’t know, I just always feel like I’m bothering you. Your life is so big and important. Even now: you should be upstairs being the star of your own party. Not down here with me.”

Hoseok shakes his head immediately. “I don’t want to talk to anyone up there the way I want to talk to you. I was such a wreck today when you didn’t answer.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying, even as he takes a step in towards you, his mouth invitingly close to yours again. “Why? I am quite literally the least important person on the guestlist.”

“Because,” Hoseok pauses for a second, then sighs. “I like you, and I was scared that you’d decided not to come, when I…” He’s practically grinning, and the tell of his scrunched up nose makes you realize– he’s embarrassed. “I threw this whole party just to have an excuse to see you.”

Your jaw drops open. “You what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again.”

“Hobi.” You both start to laugh as you stare in disbelief, trying to process the most ridiculous statement you’ve ever heard in your life. “You could have just called me.”

“I tend to overthink these things.”

He’s close enough that you barely have to move to slide your hands up his chest and grip the lapels of his white button-down.

“I think I can help with that,” you murmur, and then you tug him back down into a kiss that makes your head spin.

The sweet nervousness of your first kiss has been replaced with urgency now, Hoseok’s mouth moving over yours like he’s hungry for it. You tug gently on your fistfuls of his shirt to move him towards you, stumbling backwards until you find purchase against the door of the studio.

Hoseok moves skillfully, tongue licking into your mouth while one of his strong thighs shifts to tease your legs apart and press between them. The quick succession of the two is enough to make your breath hitch, and it seems to encourage him more. The rough denim of his jeans grinds into your center, and your already-short dress has ridden up enough that the pressure drags hot sparks right over your core.

Your jaw goes slack as your focus slips, and you tip your head back against the door with a soft whine, circling your hips for more friction. “Fuck, Hoseok.”

His lips drop down to the exposed skin of your neck. The warmth of his mouth has your back arching, your nipples rubbed into stiff peaks under the thin fabric you couldn’t wear a bra with.

“You look so fucking good tonight,” Hoseok groans. “Driving me crazy in this little dress.”

There’s the soft brush of a hand on your thigh, and he teases the hem of your dress up higher and higher as your hips keep moving; his tongue darts out to lick a languid stripe over your collarbone. His other hand slides up from your waist to cup your breast over satin, deftly rolling the bud of your nipple between his long fingers, pinching with just enough pressure to coax a moan out of you.

“I like the sounds you make. Don’t want you to be shy with me.” Hoseok murmurs over your skin before he starts to suck deliberately at your neck, right on your pulse point. You couldn’t stifle the sound his mouth pulls from you even if you wanted to.

With all your attention drawn to grinding your clit against his leg and the warmth of his palm cupping your breast, your grip on the fabric of his shirt has loosened. Moving in a haze of pleasure, your hands fumble at his denim jacket, attempting to push it down his shoulders. Hoseok pulls back slightly when he realizes what you’re doing, though his fingers still lazily squeeze at your nipple.

“Let me just– hang on–” Hoseok untangles himself from you entirely with a sheepish grin, and you take the moment to collect yourself, your chest heaving in shallow breaths. You can feel the way your panties are soaked through as you press your thighs together, desperate for continued friction.

He’s moving quickly as he slips out of his oversized jacket and button down beneath it. You can clearly see the wheels in his head turning as he lays the pieces over the back of his desk chair, then immediately scrunches his face up as if to think better of it.

“Agh, sorry, sorry, one second–” Hoseok shakes out the jacket, then the shirt, folding both in quick yet precise succession before stacking the neat rectangles together and gently setting them on the small couch next to his desk.

Even in the dim studio lighting you can see his face is flushed pink with embarrassment as he returns to press you back against the door.

“I just– I don’t want wrinkles,” he says softly, and you’re very grateful that you no longer have to suppress the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him.

“I like you so much,” you giggle into his mouth, and it’s punctuated with a squeak when his hands slide down to firmly grab your ass. The fabric of your dress is so thin that it hardly feels like it’s there at all.

Hoseok must have the same thought, because he releases his grip only for as long as it takes to push the skirt of your dress up over your ass; now there’s nothing separating his fingers from your skin when he squeezes you again.

“Like you,” he agrees, his voice husky. “Want to taste you.” Your core aches for his touch, clenches around nothing when he releases his grip and cracks a hand over the soft flesh of your asscheek.

“Please, Hobi.”

You find his mouth with yours again for a needy taste of a kiss, tongues sliding together. Your arms wrap around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

In one swift move he presses you flush against the door, and his hands slip to hitch your legs over his waist before moving back to your ass, hoisting your hips up to properly straddle him. You whimper at the grind of his erection through his jeans, right over your rubbed-sensitive center, and at the thought that he could fuck you just like this, up against this door.

Hoseok’s mouth doesn’t leave yours as he turns and carries you the short distance across the room, hands sliding to your hips so he can set you down on the desk. His lips are full and kiss-bitten red when he pulls back to look at you, pupils blown dark with lust.

“Sure this is okay?”

You meet his gaze, reaching up to dust strands of hair out of his eyes. His mouth chases the heel of your hand so he can press those soft lips into the center of your palm, chaste and sweet.

“It’s so much more than okay,” you murmur.

He’s smiling as he leans forward for another kiss, only pulling back to press his forehead to yours once you’re both breathless. “I have wanted to do this for so fucking long. You have no idea.”

His hands hook under the backs of your thighs to scoot you gently forward until you’re perched at the very edge of his desk, and then he sinks to his knees. Your legs that were slipped around his waist find new purchase thrown over his shoulders and you tense a little when your high heels scrape over his back.

“I can take these off,” you start, but he’s already shaking his head as his palms encourage your thighs apart.

“I like it.”

You’re nearly gasping for breath with anticipation as his long fingers slip under the band of your panties and you lift your hips up so he can pull them down. You manage to extract one leg to drape back over his shoulders, leaving the lacy fabric to dangle off the other as you open up for him.

Hoseok’s thumbs press to either side of your pussy, gently spreading your lips apart to admire how soaked you already are. Anyone else examining you like this would have you squirming away self-consciously, but there’s just something about Hoseok that’s different. You want him to know every part of you fully, intimately.

“God, you are so gorgeous.” His breath is hot over your skin, makes your cunt tighten needily as if to beckon him closer.

You lean back to brace your forearms on the desk behind you and Hoseok’s gaze jumps up to meet yours. He doesn’t drop eye contact as he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, both of you groaning at the contact.

His mouth moves just as it did against yours, and you let your eyes flutter closed as pleasure sears through you like a hot knife. Hoseok grunts a little, low in his throat when he adds tongue to his kisses, licking softly but deliberately to part your slick folds.

“Hobi,” you whine, rolling your hips up into him as he starts to apply more pressure with his tongue. “Fuck, ah, feels so good.”

Hoseok pulls off of you with a throaty gasp, like maybe he was so focused on eating you out that he didn’t quite remember to keep breathing. When you look down at him, his lips are wet and glossy, spread in a wide smile. “You taste so fucking good.”

You don’t even have time to ask for more before he’s hooking his biceps around your thighs and tugging your hips towards him, pulling you even closer to bury his face between your legs. This time he licks a stripe straight up to your swollen clit, pulling the bud into his mouth to suck on.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, digging your nails into the desk beneath you as sparks shoot through you and your clit twitches in his mouth.

Hoseok hums steadily around you, as if to once again encourage you to be vocal. He starts to nod his head as he sucks, his nose pressed flush against your pubic bone. Your hips fall in time with his rhythm, grinding back down on him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. “Shit, Hobi.” Your voice catches on a dazed, disbelieving laugh. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

He doesn’t let up, squeezing his grip on your thighs that much tighter when you start to quiver beneath him. Your arousal coils tight and hot in your core as he works more not-so-shy noises out of you, breathy moans, needy whines.

You cling desperately to the edge of his desk, teetering equally on the edge of your own release. The wet slick wash of his tongue is lush, decadent, lapping at your clit between pulses of suction, and it’s all too fucking much.

“Yes, Hoseok, fuck!”

You cry out, your heels digging into the hard plane of Hoseok’s back as he works an intense, shuddering orgasm out of you. Your cunt throbs over and over as you come, a rush of arousal painting the crux of your thighs.

When you catch your breath it’s in uneven, shaky gasps, and the movement of your hips sharpens into jolts as you become hypersensitive to Hoseok’s mouth. He releases you almost reluctantly, still hovering close, continuing to dart his tongue out to gently lick up your folds.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says with a shy, blossoming laugh, the light catching the shine of his lips and chin when he glances up at you.

You’re dazed, beyond blissed out, unable to believe that any of this is real. You like him so much.

“Can I keep going?”

Just that sentence is enough to make you tighten all over again with anticipation. “I–” you laugh a little too despite yourself. “I want that. But I think my clit needs a second.”

Hoseok’s touch is featherlight as he circles a digit lower, over your entrance, as if to ask permission. “What about here?” Your pussy lips twitch even under so gentle a touch, but you ache for more; you like that it’s overwhelming.

“Yeah, yes. There, please, fuck,” you babble. He’s added a second finger to tease now, and you whimper when they finally press together into your sensitive cunt.

Hoseok is watching his fingers intently, and you can hear the way your pussy squelches as he pumps them slowly, can feel the tremors of your orgasm still shuddering through you, causing slick to drip from your center. You can only imagine what his view must be like, how you must look: dripping, needy, trembling for him, fingers gripping the desk and head lolling back.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft, and then he dips his head down to lap below your entrance, tasting the juices that have leaked out of you. He pulls back to smack his other hand over your whole cunt, light enough that you barely feel the tap, but just the visual of it makes you squirm beneath him.

“So cute,” he smiles. His fingers rub circles into your front wall, becoming more insistent, and you breathe in shaky waves as you start to grip tightly around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, letting your eyes drop closed. Arousal blossoms through you like a heavy weight, your second climax already building, when you feel his other hand cup the join of your ass and thigh.

A soft whimper spills out of you as Hoseok starts to massage below your entrance, thumb working at a new bundle of nerves, like nothing you’ve ever felt. It’s pleasure that makes you hot all over, makes the muscles in your legs shiver and tense when it’s paired with the crook of his fingers still working your pussy.

“Fuck,” you pant, “Hobi, what are– that feels so–” You’re starting to lose a grip on your words, sentences going incoherent as your head spins. It’s hard to think over all the sensation, the way your body is lit up like a live wire, and the sound of your cunt gushing around him as he fucks into your g-spot.

“Has anyone touched you here before?” He asks softly, thumb tapping at the thin bridge of skin between your pussy and your ass. His head dips down for a chaste kiss there, then a second, adding a languid lap of tongue.

“N-no,” you whimper, toes curling in your shoes as he continues to drag his tongue over this delicate, sensitive place. “Keep going.”

Hoseok pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting him to you, and he lets it loose with a swipe of his hand over his mouth. His fingers slip out of you as he pairs a question with a smile. “Turn over for me?”

Your legs would be shaking even if you weren’t in fancy party heels, and you do your best to be graceful as you unsteadily spin, one arm keeping the fabric of your dress hiked up over your hips.

“Brace yourself on the desk,” Hoseok instructs, and you do, leaning forward until your stomach and forearms are flush with the wood, your bare ass hanging off the desk, presented for him. You spread your legs apart again and can feel the way your pussy drools arousal down your thighs. “That’s it,” he coaxes.

His fingers massage firmly into the flesh of your asscheeks, and your back arches up as you groan at the feeling. He spreads you just a little, enough for cool air to tease at your slick center; your hips wiggle towards him on instinct.

“Pretty back here, too,” he murmurs. “Tell me how it feels, okay? Won’t do it if you don’t like it.”

You clench for him in both places, even your fists grip tight in the fabric of your dress. “I’ll like it. Please, baby.”

“Baby,” Hoseok repeats back with a shy exhale. “I like that. I like you.” He leaves a sweet kiss pressed halfway up your thigh.

“Hobi–” you choke out a whine of his name as his breath ghosts over you, hands still firmly keeping you spread. His tongue returns to your perineum again, licking a hot, slow stripe that keeps moving up, up, until you feel the tease of warmth and wetness over your ass. “Oh, fuck.”

You’re so sensitive here, just the lightest drag of his tongue over your rim makes you moan, feet kicking listlessly as pleasure shudders through you.

“It’s good–” you manage to whimper, voice muffled slightly as your forehead drops against the desk, too, your whole body pinned down by his mouth. “–ngh, really good, Hobi.” Your cunt throbs when he does it again, as he falls into a consistent pace of long, steady laps that set off fireworks behind your eyes.

The ache in your core begs for touch, friction, and you oblige needily, tucking a hand under the weight of your hips pressed into the desk, a sweat-slicked palm for your mouth-wet clit.

Hoseok doesn’t miss a thing. It’s only for a second that he pulls off of you, but you whine at the loss of his tongue, sated slightly by the gentle brush of his lips over the small of your back. “Gonna get yourself off while I eat you out?”

You grind a circle down with your hips, hissing at the white-hot pulse against your hand. “Yes, baby, please.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement to dive back in, fingers gripping harder to spread you and tongue licking deliberately, tracing patterns that work more arousal out of your pussy. You’re unraveling fast from humping against your palm, hips jolting forward to make your clit twitch and backwards to press towards Hoseok’s mouth.

You’re already wound so tight that you’re too desperate for words, reduced instead to little breathless gasps– “ah, ahh”– as you speed up the rub of your hand, your hips. Hoseok’s tongue never falters, firm pressure laved over and over your sensitive, flexing ass.

With a soft hum of effort, you feel him press a little harder, tongue barely dipping in past your tight ring of muscle, and the sweet stretch of it is the final push you need.

You roll your clit just right over your palm a final time and then you’re shaking and moaning as everything starts to pulse. The all-over clench pushes a fresh wave of fluid from your cunt, rolling down the backs of your thighs, fat droplets of arousal that Hoseok chases with sloppy kisses as the waves of your orgasm shudder through you.

It takes a moment before you can say anything, do anything, limbs too heavy and brain too fucked-out dumb. You do your best to slide gracefully off the desk, but your legs shake with aftershocks that betray you, and you stumble.

Hoseok is quick to wrap his arms around you and guide your hips down to the floor next to him. You collapse in a heap of giggles, him tangled over your waist, the skirt of your dress still pushed up, your bare ass on his studio carpet.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok laughs, and you bury your face in the fabric of his tank top as an answer, not convinced your coherency has returned to you yet.

“Too good,” you murmur, words slurring. “Fucked me too good.”

“You’re so hot.” You can tell he’s blushing just by the tone of his voice, and you start to come to a little, slow-blinking back to reality and rolling over to look up at him. His dark eyes shine as he smiles. You don’t want to come all the way down from this dazed, happy place yet, you realize, and you curl a finger into the loop of his jeans, tugging him closer.

“My turn.” Your hands start to fumble to undo his belt buckle. His jeans are oversized, but not enough to obscure the print of his hard cock pressed against his thigh.

“Let me take you home,” he says softly, running a fingertip along your jaw. “This should be– I want you to be comfortable. I want it to feel good.”

“It all feels good,” you say earnestly, sitting up to tug at the button of his jeans, undeterred. “And you can take me home. But you’ve been so good to me, Hobi.” You manage to work his fly open, and you lift your gaze to meet him. “Let me be good to you.”

You resume your work, wriggling Hoseok’s jeans down his thighs until his hands cover yours and he takes over, stripping himself of his shoes as well. He reaches back between his shoulder blades to pull his tank top over his head, and your eyes sweep over his body, taking in his lithe figure and smooth, hard muscles. You trail the tips of your fingers down the defined lines of his chest.

“Fuck,” Hoseok starts to smile self-consciously, one hand drifting over his dick straining against tight black briefs with a slightly darker spot in the center where he’s left a kiss of precum on the fabric. “I don’t have any condoms here.”

You sit up on your knees in front of him, considering this. “Use my mouth.” The high of your orgasm has subsided enough now that you’re not quite shameless anymore, and heat blooms in your face as you continue. “Like, fuck my throat.”

He tries and fails to suppress a groan, and his delicate hands reach to cup either side of your face, thumbs rubbing circles into the hinge of your jaw. “You–” he laughs softly. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I mean it,” you say simply.

“But you really want to?”

You nod, half play-acting your shyness now, letting your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. “I’ve done it before. I like it.”

“Fuck,” Hoseok breathes. “I want to do everything you like.”

“Please?” You ask sweetly, and Hoseok is already getting to his feet, one hand still cupping your jaw.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So pretty when you beg to suck my cock.” You’re smiling, your fingers slipping under his waistband to slide his briefs down his legs.

“Take your dress off, baby,” Hoseok instructs as he steps back to finish pulling off his underwear. “Don’t wanna ruin it.”

You do as you’re told, staying on your knees to pull it over your head, your heart squeezing again when he takes it from you and treats it as gently as his own clothes. It’s oddly domestic to watch him fold the smooth fabric with shaking hands, naked except for his jewelry, his hard dick leaking against his stomach.

When he turns back to you, you take the opportunity to properly admire him. His cock is as flushed and gorgeous as the rest of him, thick and dripping wet from his tip. You duck down to press a kiss to the sensitive spot under his head, then slide your lips up to gloss over his slit, slicking your mouth with his precum.

You look up at him, hands gripping the backs of his thighs; Hoseok’s eyelids are heavy with lust as he watches you work, tongue toying at the corner of his mouth. He groans a little as you pop just the head into your mouth and swirl your tongue over it, tasting the salt of him.

His hand slides to the back of your head, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, and his adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows.

“Tap my foot if you need to stop.” Hoseok’s voice is quiet but firm, and his socked toes wiggle, brushing against your knee pressed into the carpet. “Okay?”

You hum your acknowledgement and maintain eye contact as he holds you still and slides his cock into your mouth. He starts off at a gentle pace, and you hollow your cheeks around him, pressing your tongue flat so it drags over his shaft as he starts to pump in and out of you.

As much as you want him in control, there’s a part of you that can’t help yourself– you lean forward, eyes fluttering closed, wanting to prove to him how much you can take. The head of his cock starts to stretch down your throat and you focus on breathing steady through your nose, your muscles jumping around him in a half-swallow.

“Fuck,” Hoseok groans, his voice dark and rough-edged. You can feel drool starting to leak out of your mouth, and the mess just makes it better. “You take it so well.”

His hips keep rolling, withdrawing his cock into the heat of your mouth only to push it back down the tight clutch of your throat. It gets easier as he starts to move faster, the weight of him pressing bright on your gag reflex in shorter and shorter bursts. It’s just enough to make tears well up in your eyes. They eventually spill over, staining your cheeks until your face is slick and wet, like the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat, all of it obscene and hot.

The hand in your hair tightens as he pulls you all the way down on his shaft until your nose is flush with his abdomen and your throat bulges, filled with him. He holds you there, eyes roaming hungrily over your face.

“You look so sweet with my cock down your throat, baby.”

The hum of agreement you try makes you gag a little, and he quickly releases, pulling out to let you gasp for air. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you smile up at him, dazed, and catch your breath.

“Was that too much?” His brows pinch together slightly with concern. You wipe a hand over your nose and shake your head.

“I want more, Hobi,” you purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You lean forward to lazily drag your tongue up his shaft for emphasis. “Want you to come on my face,” you admit as you fix your gaze on him.

You swear you feel his knees almost buckle when you take him in your mouth again.

“You are so fucking sexy,” Hoseok practically growls, hand returning to the nape of your neck. He pushes himself back down your throat and starts to pick up the pace. You want him all and take it easily now, drool slicking your neck and chest when you swallow around his length.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, and you can feel his cock twitch on your tongue as he fucks roughly into your mouth, chasing his orgasm. “Oh my god.”

Hoseok’s grip on your hair goes slack and he pulls out, hand pumping fast over his drool-glossed cock. He tips his head back, exposing the column of his throat with a heady whine when he starts to come. You’re up on your knees and ready for it, nose bumping his fist, face presented for him to paint. Warm spurts of cum hit your cheeks, tongue, lips, and you giggle a little as you try to hold still, as he makes another throaty grunt of effort and release.

“Shit,” he hisses as the movements of his hand slow, as he works out the last of it, stray drips already trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts. “Fuuuck.” His breathing is ragged, and you press a wet kiss to the tip of his dick as he recovers.

He’s clearly already focused on the mess he’s made of you, spinning in a dazed semi-circle before reaching to grab a box of tissues off of the desk. His bare knees thud on the carpet as he sinks down next to you.

You’re surprised when he leans in to kiss you, humming softly against your mouth, tongue even darting out to lick at the cum that drips off your lips. You smile into it, teeth gently grazing over his bottom lip.

“Hi,” he huffs a laugh as he leans back. “Was that okay? Not too much?”

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you say again, though your voice comes out a little hoarse. “Wouldn’t have asked for it if I didn’t. I like you. I–” your breath hitches slightly with nerves, and it’s funny to you, that it’s easy to ask him to fuck your throat, but hard to talk about the bigger feelings underneath. It’s more intimate, somehow, to be earnest. “You always worry so much about everyone else. I just want to take care of you.”

“You can.” Hoseok’s voice is gentle and warm. “We both can.” He pulls a tissue loose from the box, hovering close to you. “Let me clean you up.”

You’re too blissed out to stop yourself from giggling. “You have a whole party to get back to.” You nod dumbly at the verity of your own statement as he uses tissues to wipe cum and drool off your face, tear stains and smudged makeup from your cheeks.

“This,” he swipes a thumb down over your bottom lip, chases it with another quick kiss, “was so much better than a fucking party.” He adds the last of the dampened tissues to the small pile he’s made on the floor, tilting your jaw with his hand to inspect his work, to ensure perfection as he does with everything. “But I probably don’t have much longer before people start looking for me.”

“You should go,” you say quietly, trying to ignore the drop in your stomach.

His hand slips into yours for the second time tonight. “Will you come with me? I know it’s not really your thing.”

You falter momentarily– not because you don’t want to, but you can’t shake your own self-consciousness, this sense that you don’t belong here, rubbing elbows with all these famous people. But it’s hard to feel like any of that matters with the way Hoseok is looking at you, the soft turn of his lips in a barely-there smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Very.” He gives your hand an affirming squeeze. “Do I need to remind you that this entire party is literally for you?”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes at his antics despite the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “I still can’t believe you. What is this, The Great Gatsby?”

His laugh is high and sweet, hand untangling from yours to wrap both arms around your waist, and he pulls you into his chest, bare skin on bare skin, hearts beating together. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Hobi,” you relent. “I’ll go back with you. Besides, Jimin promised to feed me.”

You can feel Hoseok’s smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Come on, then. I promise it’ll be fun. If we get Jungkook drunk enough he’ll probably start dancing on the stage.”

“Now that I have to see.”

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #hoseok x y/n

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badaleesbish · 2 months

Text

Bada Lee as your SEXY HOT gf

°SUMMARY:

𝙱𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎.

°CW:

𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳, 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂.

➶︎ Bada is the type of girlfriend that showers you with gifts and compliments like every day.

➶︎ Bada is the type of girlfriend that LOVES pet names.

➶︎ "Bae, Babe, Baby."

➶︎ "Sweetie, Sweetheart, Sweet girl."

➶︎ "Princess."

➶︎ "Babygirl."

➶︎ The list goes on but...

➶︎ Your (My) favorite of all time...

➶︎ "My Love."

➶︎ Did your heart flutter a little bc mine did.

➶︎ AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️

➶︎ Bada is the type of girlfriend who would be an active listener. No matter how big or small the issue is, she will always drop whatever she is doing to listen.

➶︎ Whenever she is away, she ALWAYS makes sure to call you before you go to sleep.

➶︎ Sometimes, she'd rather FaceTime to see your beautiful face.

➶︎ "Come on, baby, FaceTime me so I can see that beautiful face of yours, pretty girl."

➶︎ Bada is the type of girlfriend who doesn't care about weight or any change to your body. She loves you either way.

➶︎ She LOVES how her oversized shirts drape over your curvy body.

➶︎ It just drives her IN FUCKING SANE.

➶︎ And don't wear her pants. That ass IS NOT safe.

➶︎ Bada def uses her height to her advantage. She will tower over you to make you nervous.

➶︎ " Do I make you nervous, sweetheart? "

➶︎ "Yes..."

➶︎ "Good.

➶︎ She LOVES to make you jealous. She'll do little petty things like get a little bit too touchy with her crew members.

➶︎ "What? Are you jealous?"

➶︎ She does that stupid ass, sexy ass, attractive ass smirk.

➶︎ "Yes, I am."

➶︎ "You're so possessive. I like that shit. Sexy ass but you and I both know my eyes are for you and only you."

➶︎ "Yeah, whatever, Bada Lee."

➶︎ Bada "forces" you to attend her classes with her. Not to dance unless you want to but to just be a supportive girlfriend.

➶︎ During the class, you try not to ABSOLUTELY LOSE YOUR SHIT as she dances to that one choreo, making complete eye contact with you as she grinds against the floor.

➶︎ LET'S GET FREAKY‼️ MINORS, GET TF BACK‼️

➶︎ Let's face it...... Bada whines, whimpers, and begs. There I said it.

➶︎ "Hmm... please let me taste you. I'll do anything. I'll be a good girl."

➶︎ "I want it, please. Oh please."

➶︎ Bada LOVES when you tell her how much of a good job she does (iykyk)

➶︎ Go ahead and praise her.

➶︎ Don't forget to tell her she is a good girl.

➶︎ Hair pulling...

➶︎ You pull her hair...

➶︎ She pulls your hair...

➶︎ Both of you pull each other's hair at the same time...

➶︎ She loves it.

➶︎ Craves it, actually.

➶︎ Edging/Overstimulating you for HOURS with her fingers or the strap.

➶︎ You can barely breathe, moans stuck in your throat, legs shaking, back arching, hand(s) on Bada's wrist or stomach.

➶︎ She moves your hand(s), intertwining with hers or placing them above your head.

➶︎ You try to close your legs, but Bada slaps your thighs to keep them open or just forces them open.

➶︎ "Keep these pretty legs open for me, pretty girl. I don't wanna miss a single second of this pussy, baby."

➶︎ When she FaceTimes when she is away... let's just say things get a little naughty.

➶︎ "What are you wearing right now, sweetheart?"

➶︎ "One of your shirts..."

➶︎ "One of my shirts... is that it?"

➶︎ You nod, biting your lip as you stare at your girlfriend on the phone screen.

➶︎ "Let me see, babygirl. I know you were thinking about me while touching yourself."

➶︎ "I'm here now, go ahead. Don't try to act shy now. Spread those legs, sweet girl."

➶︎ I'm giggling and kicking my feet at my OWN writing rn. 😂

➶︎ Someone take my phone please.

➶︎ I would do SO MANY THINGS to her .

➶︎ I would let her do ANYTHING she WANTS to me.

➶︎ Okay, I think I'm done now.

➶︎ Fuck, I NEED her so BAD.

➶︎ Okay, I'm done.

➶︎ Bye Bye. ✌🏾

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #team bebe #street woman fighter x reader #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

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hushedlover · 1 year

Text

Screaming and Crying Part 2

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader

Summary: Part 2. You're recovering from the hurt Xavier caused. You've avoided him at all costs, but how long can it go on?

A/n: Here's part 2! I had so much fun writing this. Isabella is based off of one of my best friends who helped me proof read this lol

Requests are open! Send anything in!

The sun was setting by the time you made your way back to the school. Your phone had gone off multiple times with calls and texts from friends questioning your disappearance. You ignored them all. You couldn’t find it in you to care. The blood had long dried on your knuckles, not until after you had finished punishing the poor tree more. Your arm hung limp at your side, your wrist had swelled and was throbbing. Probably sprained or broken. You couldn’t find it in you to care about that either.

You were sure you looked crazy, your hair a wind blown mess, face tear stricken, and blood covering your hand. You walked through the quad and ignored the people who gawked at you. It was very few due to the late hour, dinner had passed so you just made your way to your dorm. Isabella, your roommate, would be pissed seeing as you had ignored every worried attempt she made to reach out to you. You were correct in your assumptions. The minute you swung your door open she was bolting to her feet.

“No, no she just came in. Yeah I'll call you back. Okay bye,” she hung up the phone and sighed. “That was Enid. We were worried sick about you! What happened? Oh my gosh your hand! Bitch, what happened?”

You surprised both yourself and Isabella when you broke out laughing at their outburst.It was odd, the rush of adrenaline you had gained from the situation. You felt floaty, like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. Isabella stood there, gaping at you. This caused more laughter to flow out of you due to them looking like the human embodiment of the stupid emoji everyone uses. She almost looked afraid of you. When you finally calmed your fit of giggles, they spoke.

“Girl, what the fuck. What is happening right now?”

“I don’t even know man. I’m... I'm so tired. And boys are buttheads.”

“You say that like that's something new. I’m telling you, women are just better. But what happened? Was it that blonde beanstock you’re always with? What’s his name? Tarzan?”

You laughed again,” Xavier. And yeah it was him. It was him and his infatuation with that Wednesday girl.”

“Oh my god,” Isabella dragged out the last syllable, “I can’t blame him girl she’s so fine!”

You just glared at her and moved to go to your shared restroom. You wanted to wash the blood off your hand and inspect the damage done.

“Way to rub salt in the wound, thank you. So much,” you muttered over the sound of the sink running.

“Listen. Here me out on this. Please, plEAaase,” they whined from the doorway.

“Just grab me some pajamas, will you? I think I need a shower to get all of this off. My plaid pajama pants please.”

You heard rustling and heard Isabella call out to you.

“Not to ruin the good mood or anything, but shouldn’t you be having a mental breakdown right now? You haven’t even told me what happened, but I feel like there should be more tears.”

“I think it’ll come later, I’m kind of-,” You cut yourself off to take the clothes she had gathered from them. “Thank you. I’m kind of numb right now. I think it’s shock. And adrenaline. I don’t know. Can I explain after my shower?”

“Fine, but hurry up. I wanna know what my reasoning is going to be for kicking Tarzan’s ass,” and with that they shut the door behind them.

You slipped into the shower, the warm water relaxing your muscles. The silence without music would usually bother you, but tonight it was welcomed. Your head was finally quiet. Thoughts of Xavier and Wednesday kissing and holding hands long forgotten. You were just looking forward to the weekend now.

—------

It had been 2 days since that night. Isabella had kept you sane and occupied all weekend. You had shit talked and stuffed your faces with all the junk food you could find. Isabella had also confiscated your phone, claiming that “We can’t risk you being a pussy and giving into your problem.” So if anyone had tried to contact you it went unanswered. Bianca and the twins, you and Isabella’s friends, knew to take her if they needed something.

It was Monday morning now. You really, really did not want to go to class knowing you would have to see both Xavier and Wednesday and all your mutual friends, but Isabella forced you. They told you to “women up” and be a bad bitch. But you really didn’t feel like a bad bitch. You felt a bit pathetic. Isabella threw a pillow at you, startling you from your thoughts.

You flipped them off and then slipped out of bed and went to get dressed. Due to the weather being so cold the rules on uniform were a bit more lenient so you slid on some leggings and your Nevermore crewneck. The sleeve stuck to the brace you had around your wrist, luckily you hadn’t broken it, but it was sprained pretty bad. Isabella was getting ready too, but when she saw you in your comfy outfit she paused.

“Tell me you are not planning on wearing that.”

You looked down, confused.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Girl! We get the chance to dress how we want, be cute!”

“Says you,” you grumbled playfully but went to change anyway.

You threw on some jeans and a long sleeve top with a t-shirt over it. Then you threw on some shoes and walked out of your closet.

“Is this better,” You raised your arms in question.

Isabella nodded in approval and then they shoved your bag and phone into your hands.

“Let’s go, Bianca is waiting and I’m hungry. You took too long.”

“What?,” You yelled as you were pushed out the door and towards the stairs. “You’re the one who made me change! I was ready!”

The two of you continued to bicker all the way down to the quad, where Bianca and the twins were standing there waiting for you. When you approached them, Bianca wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. You laughed softly at the action. It was odd, your guys' relationship. She was Xavier’s ex yes, but before that you had all been friends. And that didn’t stop despite the conflict between the broken up couple. You had always trusted Bianca, and though it was a bit awkward at first, you remained close no matter the circumstances.

When you pulled away Bianca held you by the shoulders and smiled at you.

“He’s a dick who doesn’t know what’s good for him. You’re amazing and you’re so much more mature than him.”

You smiled at her, and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Bianca.”

“Guuuuuyyyyys, I’m hungrryyyyyyyyy.”

Your group all laughed at Isabella’s complaints. You all agreed to have the twins grab the food and then they’d meet you guys back at the table to eat. It was nice to laugh freely with your friends. A weight was lifted off your chest. When the twins returned you all dug into your food. You were all joking and bickering amongst yourselves. You almost forgot about your conflict with Xavier. Almost.

The thought of him still lingered in your brain. It stayed there through breakfast and while you were walking to class. You were so lost in conversation that you forgot that you had your first class with him. You remembered when you walked in the doorway and saw him sitting in his seat, the one next to him empty where you would usually be. You froze in your spot, your heart palpitating painfully. Isabella stopped next to you with a puzzled look.

“Why’d you stop in the middle of the- Oh.”

They cut themselves off when they saw where you were looking. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too enamored in his drawing he was working on. You looked up at your friend next to you, your eyes wide with panic. You didn’t know what to do.

“Hey hey hey, don’t cry please. I don’t do well with crying. Here, you’ll sit with me. I’ll be your new partner,” She was already guiding you to your new seat.

When you got there you kept your head low, afraid to look up and make eye contact with Xavier. You sat next to Isabella and they struck conversation with you easily until the teacher walked in. When you heard the footsteps walk in the room you instinctually looked up, and you wished you hadn’t. Your eyes drifted across the room to where Xavier sat, the seat next to him now occupied. The sight of him and his new partner made your stomach drop. It was Wednesday sitting next to him. Of course it was.

He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced over at you. When his eyes met yours and widened, you quickly hardened your gaze and looked away. You didn’t want him to see the hurt you still felt. Straightening your back you focused your attention on the lecture, you wouldn’t let him get to you.

___

The lecture felt like it went on forever, so when it was finally over you were extremely relieved. You and Isabella parted ways at the door, they would go to their next class and you would go to chemistry. With Xavier. Your chest tightened at the thought. You sped up your pace as you walked towards the class, hoping if you got there fast enough you could find any seat away from him. But the universe decided to give you a huge middle finger today. When you arrived at the class there were only 2 open seats. Right next to each other.

You sighed. You were too tired for this. Maybe you could just ignore him and he’d leave you alone. That is if he even wanted anything to do with you. You didn’t have to wait long to see his reaction. He walked in not long after you, his eyes darting between you and the chair next to you. You continued to look down at your paper, refusing to meet his eyes. You heard him audibly sigh before he dropped his bag and sat next to you. You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head, but you didn’t dare look over.

Class started and things were going smoothly. The class was mostly notes, so there was no need to talk to the boy next to you. That didn’t stop him from bothering you though. As you concentrated on the board ahead of you, you felt something land on your hand. Looking down, you saw a butterfly perched on the back of your hand. It was a dark gray, clearly one of Xavier's drawings. You felt your heart pick up at the thought of him trying to get your attention. Immediately, you shook your hand, and your head, slightly to clear the butterfly and your thoughts. Xavier sighed again and then looked back at the board.

—

After that there were no incidents. The day continued smoothly and by the end of it you were exhausted and ready to flop on your bed. You did just that when you arrived at your dorm. Throwing your bag to the ground, you ran and fell face first on the plush covers. Not 5 minutes into your silence, the door burst open. In came Isabella and Bianca, talking loudly before they saw you.

“Y/n,” Isabella called out. “What are you doing? We’re going down to Weathervane in like 10 minutes?”

You grumbled back, your words being incoherent. You didn’t want to get up. But you also wanted coffee.

Slowly you rolled off your bed and to the floor, and then looked towards your friends. Isabella looked confused, Bianca looked concerned. You reached your hands out towards them and pouted.

“Help please,” You wiggled your fingers at them.

They looked at each other and sighed before walking to you and pulling you to your feet. Then they dragged you out the door, leading you on the bus that was going to bring kids down to town. When you arrived in the cafe you practically ran for the counter. No one was there yet, but you knew the boy who worked here most days, Tyler. You guys had met at one of the festivals in town before his whole argument with Xavier. You had been pissed with him over what he did to Xavier, but after he apologized and explained himself you had become civil once again. Now you were more acquaintances than friends, but you loved the way he made your coffee so you were kind to him.

You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously while Isabella and Bianca made their way into the shop. You heard Tyler yell something from the back before he came into your view, clearly frustrated. You gave him a sickly sweet and innocent smile.

“Hi Tyler, did you miss me?”

“Oh so very much,” he smiled back at you. “The usual I assume? You want to put theirs on your order too?”

He pointed at your two friends behind you, who he had seen come in with you hundreds of times before. They had already sat down and were chatting idly.

“Yes please, I’m treating today,” You said, pulling out your wallet.

As you fished for the right amount of cash you heard Tyler speak again.

“What about his?”

Your head snapped up, your brows furrowed. You had been so focused on the money that you hadn’t heard the door open. When you glanced behind you, you saw the last person you wanted to see. Xavier.

“No, uh. He’s not with me- us today,” You tripped over your words, hands now shaking as you tried to hand the cash to the boy in front of you.

Tyler quickly took note of the way you trembled and how your eyes were watering. He quickly grew concerned. You two may not be close, but he cared enough to know he didn’t like seeing you this upset. He made eye contact with Bianca, who had been watching since Xavier walked in, and waved her over. Then he placed his hand over yours.

“Hey, Y/n,” He dipped his head trying to make eye contact with you. “Hey, why don’t you go sit down? Bianca or Isabella can help me okay?”

You just nodded slightly, feeling Bianca take your shoulder gently and guiding you to the table. Isabella was finishing the transaction with Tyler, both of them looking over at you with worry occasionally. You glanced around the shop in panic, not being able to find the boy you were so desperately avoiding. That was until he was standing directly in front of your table, just next to where Bianca sat.

“Y/n, can I- Can I talk to you, please?,” Xavier stumbled over his words.

Your friend tensed and got ready to get up and give him a piece of her mind, but your hand on her arm stopped her. Xavier saw you whisper something in the siren’s ear before she slid out of the booth, giving you room to slip out too. You made brief eye contact with your previous best friend, before turning on your heel and walking out the door.

You continued to walk until you were in the grass across the street from the cafe. You knew he was following you. Like a love sick puppy. You scoffed to yourself. When you decided you were far enough from the shop you stopped and waited for him to approach you. You felt him stop behind you, but you didn’t turn.

“Y/n, please would you look at me? Look, I know I messed up. I was a total dick and I’m so sorry. I just was so excited about Wednesday, I mean I really like her. I haven’t liked anyone this much since Bianca and I-,” He cut himself off when he noticed your arms wrapped around yourself, your shoulders shaking.

You still had your back to him so he couldn’t see the tears streaking your cheeks, but he knew you were crying. You never cried. And he made you cry. Oh shit. Why were you crying? He rushed forward and turned you gently. Grabbing your cheeks, he made you look up at him. Xavier’s thumbs brushed along your cheeks, concern filling his eyes.

“Please talk to me. I don’t think I can handle you being quiet anymore. You’re never quiet with me and these past couple of days I've been trying to give you space but it’s so hard. I miss you. I miss my best friend.”

He whispered the last part, resting his forehead on yours. You furrowed your brows and sniffled. Then you pushed him away, hitting his chest. You punched and pushed and hit and Xavier took it all because he knew he deserved it.

“You idiot,” You yelled at him. “I have supported you for years! I’ve been your best friend, no matter how much you’ve pissed me off. No matter what you have said to me. And you know why I did that? Because I love you, you moron. I have loved you since we were kids, and I haven’t done anything because I just want you to be happy. But whenever any other girl comes along, you throw yourself at her! You ignore me! I’m tired Xavier! I’m so tired.”

Your shoulders slumped forward and you sighed. Xavier was a few steps in front of you, shock written across his face. His eyes were watering, his cheeks flushed. You wiped your face and felt that you had been sobbing the entire rant. Xavier took a step forward and you took one back.

“You… love me?,” He asked, like he was afraid he would scare you off.

You shook your head and glared at the grass below you.

“Only since we were 8.”

“Y/n… I don't know what to say,” He started.

“Don’t say anything. Go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

As you turned to walk away, Xavier’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. His mind was racing, he was panicking. He couldn’t let you walk away. Not when he found out you loved him back and every stupid this he’s done in the past year was for nothing. So he panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Wednesday is a lesbian. She likes Isabella.”

You froze. You tried to process the information the tall boy had just blurted but you couldn’t. Not fully. So you burst out an incredulous laugh and collapsed to the ground. Xavier wasn’t expecting it, and with his grip still tight on your wrist he was pulled down along with you. He landed half on top of you, his arms on either side of your head to keep him from crushing you. His long hair tickled your face and you scrunched your nose at the sensation. Then you realized the position you were in. You blushed, heat rushing to your face and looked everywhere but the boy on top of you.

Xavier on the other hand could only see you. He could only focus on your eyes, the freckles that dotted your skin, the way your lips pulled into that beautiful little frown. He gently reached down and ran his thumb across your eyebrows, trying to soothe the harsh lines there. Then he cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. What he did next made your heart completely start and restart in your chest.

Xavier had leaned down, pressing his lips to yours carefully. He pulled away quickly, not wanting to overstep. Before you could question him, he spoke:

“I thought you only saw me as a brother. That’s what Rowan and Ajax, my parents, everyone told me. They told me I couldn’t ruin our friendship. So like the moron I am, I listened. I pushed away my feelings for you and I went after other girls because I thought it was the only chance I had at staying in your life. Sure, I liked Bianca and Wednesday. Maybe I had a crush on them. But I wasn’t in love with them like I am with you. I am so sorry, Y/n. I never should have said what I did. If I could take it back I would. But because I can't, I'll spend my entire life making it up to you.”

You were in shock. What the fuck was he thinking:? He could just apologize and confess his love and everything would be fine? No. You smiled up at him and then you slapped him. Hard. His face turned with the impact. And then you grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.

“You owe me so many things, the list is at least a mile long,” You said as you pulled back and then kissed where your hand had met his face. “But we have all the time in the world for you to complete that list.”

Xavier leaned down to kiss you again and then pulled away with a frown.

“That hurt,” He whined.

“You deserved it and you know it,” you kissed his cheek once more before gently pushing him off of you. “Now come on, we need to get Isabella a girlfriend. Maybe she’ll finally stop making me watch anime with her.”

___

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