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riqomi · 2 days ago

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he's just a friend ˖ 심재윤

제이크 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. smut est. relationship ──── BOOKSHELF ( 4347 ) tw. mean dom!jake, raw sex (don’t be silly! wrap your willy), oral f. receiving, jealous!jake, let me know if i missed anything

the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. jake stood in front of you, arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes dark with frustration.

“you’re really gonna act like you don’t see it?” his voice was sharp, laced with something deeper—something possessive.

you rolled your eyes, exhaling a heavy breath. “jake, it’s not that deep. he’s just a friend.”

“a friend? you were laughing at all his jokes, touching his arm, letting him get all close to you—”

“oh my god, you’re overreacting!”

he scoffed, stepping closer until your back was against the wall. his warmth pressed into you, and despite the anger in his gaze, there was something else there too—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“am i?” his voice dropped lower, huskier. his fingers trailed up your arm, slow, deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “tell me, do you let just anyone touch you like this?”

your breath hitched. the shift in the atmosphere was instant. the heat from the argument hadn’t dissipated—it had transformed into something else entirely.

“jake—”

he didn’t give you the chance to finish. his lips crashed into yours, demanding, hungry. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, letting you feel just how much this jealousy had affected him.

“i don’t like sharing,” he muttered against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck, biting just enough to leave his mark.

and tonight? he was going to make sure you remembered exactly who you belonged to.

every breath you took was mingled with the familiar scent of his cologne, a mix of cedar and something distinctly jake—it was intoxicating, grounding, as if he were the only thing that mattered in that moment. you could feel your heart racing, pounding against your ribcage, both from the thrill of his touch and the lingering taste of adrenaline from your earlier argument.

“jake… we shouldn’t,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. you could feel the weight of his stare, a fierce intensity that made it hard to think straight. but the way his lips traveled down the length of your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, made it difficult to remember why you were even resisting.

“shouldn’t what?” he breathed into your ear, his hot breath sending a thrill through you. “shouldn’t want you? shouldn’t make you mine?” the vulnerability masked by his possessiveness ignited something deep within you, something you knew you had to confront but was terrified to fully embrace.

“jake, you’re being—” but he silenced you once again with another fierce kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate urgency. you were lost in the heat, caught between the frustration and the undeniable chemistry that had always simmered beneath the surface. his tongue tangled with yours, coaxing you to forget your protests.

“you don’t get it,” he murmured against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “i can’t stand the thought of someone else having you like this.” with that, his grip tightened around your waist—steady and possessive—as if he was trying to keep you anchored to him, a silent promise that you were his, and he was not about to let you go.

you felt like a moth drawn to a flame, aware of the danger yet unable to resist its pull. “i’m not a possession, jake,” you finally managed, your voice wavering as his fingers brushed the bare skin of your midriff effortlessly. the contrast between his firmness and the spark of tenderness in his touch made you shiver.

he pulled back for a moment, his eyes searching yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the storm of frustration. “i know you’re not,” he said softly, the roughness in his voice subsiding just a bit. “but when i see you with him—joking and laughing—part of me can’t help but feel scared, feel threatened. i… i care about you. a lot.”

your heart softened at the admission, his own walls beginning to crumble. you reached up, running your fingers along his jaw, feeling the contours of his face, the struggle etched in his features. “i care about you too, jake. but you need to trust me.”

his gaze flickered, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe you were getting through to him. but then, just as quickly, that fire ignited again. “trust, huh? what if i can’t?” he stepped back, just enough to create space, yet you could still feel the magnetic pull between you. “what if i’m not ready to let go of this? the thought of losing you…”

you could see it in his eyes—the mix of fear and desperation. it was raw, it was real, and it made your heart ache in a way you had never expected. “you won’t lose me if you let me in, jake.”

he searched your face, weighing your words against the tumult of jealousy and longing that swirled inside him. you could see the battle he was fighting, the internal struggle between claiming you and giving you the freedom you deserved.

then, with a sudden intensity, he surged forward, capturing your lips again with a passion that felt like both a plea and a declaration. as your bodies pressed closer together, you felt the resolve in him strengthen, his grip on you tightening. you melted against him, surrendering to the moment, the tension from seconds before dissipating into a heat that wrapped around you both like a cocoon.

in that silent space, you both knew: walls would crumble, trust would build, and no one could keep you apart—not when the bond was this strong and this real. together, you would navigate the chaos of emotions, and for tonight, nothing else mattered but the two of you—lost in a world that belonged only to you.

as the kiss deepened, you felt the heat radiating off jake's body, igniting a fire within you that had long been simmering beneath the surface. his hands explored your sides, fingers creeping under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin, causing your breath to hitch. you could feel your body responding, arching closer to him, craving more.

with a sudden urgency, he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine.

“here?” you whispered, glancing around the dimly lit room. the world beyond the walls seemed distant, fading away as the tension between you crackled like electricity.

he chuckled lowly, a sound that sent a wave of heat washing over you. “just us. only us.”

his hands slipped fully under your shirt, fingers splayed wide against your back as he pulled you against him, the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him pressing against you, every pulse of his heartbeat syncing with your own.

“jake, i…” you searched his gaze, wanting to communicate your own desire but the words escaped you, overtaken by instinct as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

he responded to your urgency, lifting you off your feet and pressing you against the wall, his strong body pinning you in place. you gasped as the cool surface met your back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his skin. there was no hesitation in his movements; he was feral, desperate, losing himself in the moment.

his lips were on yours again, hungry and demanding, while his hands roamed freely, exploring every curve, every inch of you. with a deft movement, he lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without breaking the rhythm of your kiss. the cool air prickled your exposed skin, heightened by the warmth of his body.

“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, eyes devouring you. you could feel his desire, an overwhelming presence that made your core tighten with anticipation. the moment hung heavy, electric.

“please,” you urged, feeling brazen in your want. it was more than just physical; it was a connection, a shared need that was raw and urgent. his gaze darkened, and without another word, he captured your lips again, claiming you as he pressed forward, his body a heat that enveloped you.

as he kissed down your neck, planting soft, passionate bites that made you gasp, you reveled in the closeness. your fingers found their way to the waistband of his jeans, exploring boldly, teasingly. he inhaled sharply, responding to your touch with a low growl, pressing you deeper against the wall.

“that’s it,” he murmured, “don’t hold back.” the command was both thrilling and intoxicating, driving you to continue exploring, your hands deftly undoing the button of his jeans. the way he inhaled, the catch in his breath as you slipped your hand inside, was enough to stoke the flames of desire between you.

as your fingers brushed against him, he exhaled sharply, his body responding eagerly to your touch. he thrust into your palm, groaning softly, his need spilling into the space between you. “just like that,” he encouraged, his eyes fierce and possessive.

but then, just as quickly, he caught your gaze and gripped your wrists, halting your movements. “wait…” he said, his voice husky, thick with desire and hesitation. “i want to take my time with you. to make you feel everything.”

your heart raced at his words, excitement blending with the thrum of want coursing through you. “then do it,” you urged breathlessly. “make me yours.”

a smirk danced across his lips as he lowered to his knees, his hands running up your thighs, heat pooling in your core as he slipped your shorts down. the sensation of his mouth brushing against your skin sent jolts of electricity spiraling through you, leaving you breathless.

“i want you to remember how it feels,” he murmured, as his lips feathered kisses against your thighs before they drifted closer to your center. “you’re the only one i want. always.”

with one swift motion, he pulled your body closer to him and wrapped an arm around your waist, his mouth finally making contact. a soft moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as his tongue flicked against you, teasing and exploring. the world outside faded, and all you could feel was the delicious warmth radiating from him.

your fingers tangled in his hair as he worked you into a frenzy, each flick and swirl igniting flames of ecstasy that coursed through your body. “jake, oh god, yes.” you could barely form coherent thoughts; every sensation felt magnified, heightened, as he lavished attention on you, relentless and insistent.

he looked up at you, locking eyes, the heat of his gaze making your heart race even faster. “you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, sending vibrations through your body. “so perfect.” and with that, he dove back in, his movements growing more fervent, losing himself in you as you writhed beneath him, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

the pressure inside you built, spiraling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might break apart. “jake… i’m so close,” you cried, the words spilling from your mouth as he pushed you closer to the edge.

he responded with a growl, his fingers moving in perfect harmony with his mouth, forcing you ever closer. the world was nothing but the two of you, the heat between you igniting everything in its path.

with a final surge, you felt yourself tumble over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you surrendered completely. “jake!” the sound of his name escaped your lips in a breathless cry, your body arching against him as the world exploded in brilliant color.

as the tremors faded, he rose to his feet, a smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that told you he hadn’t even begun to unleash everything he had in store for you. “i told you, tonight you’re all mine.”

your breath came in shaky gasps, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he pulled you close once more. “and i’m not done with you yet,” he growled, his voice filled with a promise that sent another wave of desire surging within you.

with that, you knew the night was far from over; there were depths to explore, sensations to uncover, and you were more than ready to take that plunge with him. as jake captured your lips again, you understood that this was just the beginning.

the kiss deepened, igniting the embers of desire that still smoldered between you. jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. there was something primal in his expression, a fierce determination to worship you in ways that made your head spin.

“are you ready for more?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers racing down your spine. you could only nod, the words stuck in your throat as anticipation coiled in your gut, tightening its grip.

without breaking eye contact, he took your hand, leading you across the room. the atmosphere was thick with the scent of your shared desire, filling the space, wrapping around you like a silken cover. the walls felt like they were closing in, but in a way that excited you, igniting every nerve ending.

jake guided you to the edge of the bed, and you hesitated for just a moment, the reality of where you were settling in. but then that look returned to his eyes—fierce, possessive, and promising—and all doubt melted away. you could see the raw intensity that lay beneath the surface, the overwhelming need to bind you to him in every possible way.

“sit,” he commanded softly, a hint of mischief tugging at his lips. you obliged, your heart racing as you settled onto the cool sheets, watching as he stood before you, like a statue carved from fire and stone. the way he stood, his body taut with muscles, made you hunger for him in ways you hadn’t even thought possible.

he slipped his jeans down and off, revealing a body made for sin—every inch sculpted perfection. the sight of him took your breath away, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander hungrily. with each moment, the tension continued to build, an undeniable pull that drew you further into his heat.

he stepped closer, brushing his fingers along your arm, sending electric shocks through your skin. “you make me lose control,” he admitted, his voice a low whisper as he took a knee on the bed, our bodies just inches apart.

“then let go,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. there was a daring spark in your eyes that he couldn’t resist.

with a predator’s grace, he closed the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours again. but this kiss was different—it held urgency, a promise of what was to come. you felt his hands exploring your body, reviving warmth where the cool sheets had made you shiver.

jake broke the kiss, his breath warm against your cheek. “tell me what you want,” he said, his tone a mix of authority and need, making your heart skip.

without hesitation, you let your desires spill forth. “i want you, jake. i want all of you.” you looked into his eyes, your intent clear. you could see the fire igniting behind those dark depths, and it only fueled your own longing.

“good,” he growled, moving back slightly to take in the sight of you. “because i’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” the primal promise in his voice sent waves of heat rushing through you.

jake’s hands moved down your body, unhooking your bra and letting it slide off your shoulders. he took his time, dipping his mouth down to place soft kisses along your collarbone, pausing to nibble and tease, taking joy in every reaction you gave.

“look at you,” he murmured, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart pound. “so beautiful, so eager.” he continued his descent, his mouth moving lower, kissing along the swell of your breasts, savoring you as if you were the finest delicacy.

your breath hitched as he captured one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand teased the other, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. the sensation was electric, and you couldn’t hold back the moans escaping your lips.

“just like that, baby,” he encouraged, his voice thick with lust, and your body responded instinctively, arching towards him, craving more.

he continued his descent, trailing kisses down your stomach, leaving a path of fire that made you squirm with need. when his fingers found the waistband of your shorts, he hesitated, looking up at you, his expression a mix of mischief and longing.

“is this okay?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

“yes, please,” you urged, almost desperate. “i need you.”

with that, he removed your shorts with careful precision, taking in your bare skin with a groan that resonated deep within him. the feeling of being completely exposed under his gaze sent a rush of heat through you, a combination of vulnerability and primal desire.

jake leaned in closer, his breath hot against your core, teasingly lingering just a breath away. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “and i’m going to show you just how much.”

his mouth finally made contact, and you gasped—his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, swirling and flicking in a rhythm that had your back arching and your breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. you gripped the sheets, desperately trying to ground yourself, but the sensations were so overwhelming.

with each stroke of his tongue, he pushed you higher, further into the abyss of pleasure. you could feel the coil tightening once again, the sweet heat building and spreading throughout your body as you squirmed beneath him.

“jake, i’m so close…” you managed to breathlessly let out, your hands tangling into his hair as he continued to work his magic.

“not yet,” he replied, glancing up at you, eyes shimmering with undeniable hunger. “i want you to feel every second of this.”

he intensified his efforts, leaving you teetering on the edge, the pleasure great enough that you could hardly think straight. you felt waves of ecstasy ripple through you, threatening to pull you under, but jake wasn’t about to let go of you just yet.

suddenly, he pulled back, leaving you breathless and yearning. you were desperately hungry for him, for more of him—your body screaming for release but wanting his touch even more.

“jake, please,” you begged, your voice a soft whimper. the lust-filled look in your eyes fueled his fire, and you could see the passion flaring within him as he joined you on the bed once again.

“then it’s time i give you everything,” he growled, alignment shifting, his body hovering over yours with an intensity that made your heart race. he positioned himself at your entrance, the heat radiating between you palpable.

with a single thrust, he entered you, filling you completely in a way that made you gasp, your body instinctively responding to his. you could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

“god, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his face taut with concentration as he steadied himself.

it was as if the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, entwined in a primal dance of pleasure. he pulled back slightly, and then thrust deeper, the rhythm building steadily, like a tidal wave surging closer.

you surrendered to him completely, letting him take you higher, letting every sensation sweep you away. “more, jake,” you urged, the sound of your voice filled with need. “give me more.”

he responded with fervor, driving into you with an intensity that sent your senses spiraling. you could feel the heat pooling in your core, your body longing for that release that felt tantalizingly close yet just out of reach.

“just like that,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he set a delicious pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “you’re so fucking perfect… just for me.”

his words fueled the fire within you, and soon, you felt your body spiraling once again, that familiar heat swirling, growing, until it became almost unbearable. “i’m going to—”

“do it,” he urged, his voice smooth and coaxing. “let go for me. i’ve got you.”

with that, you tumbled over the edge, the waves crashing over you in an exhilarating rush, pulling him along with you. you felt yourself clenching around him, the pulsating waves of pleasure washing through you as you cried out his name, feeling completely and utterly alive.

jake followed right behind you, grunting your name as he released, filling you completely. the world spun around you both as you came down from your high, held tightly in each other’s embrace, the connection between you deepening in ways that words could never capture.

as you lay tangled in sheets and limbs, breathless and satisfied, you knew this night had transformed something inside both of you. whatever uncertainties you had faced moments ago felt small and distant, overshadowed by the bond you had forged in pure, unrestrained passion.

“always mine,” he whispered against your temple, pulling you closer as he finally let the tension of the night subside, leaving only warmth and a gentle sense of calm in its wake. and you knew then, that you were ready for everything that came next.

the aftermath of your passionate encounter left you both breathless, yet an enchanting peace settled over the room as quiet enveloped you. the air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat and lingering desire, but above all, there was a sense of warmth that made your heart swell.

jake shifted beside you, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you closer. you nestled against him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—a comforting lullaby that instilled a sense of safety and belonging.

“wow…” you murmured, still basking in the afterglow. the exhilaration of what had just happened began to settle, replaced by a gentle calm as you reflected on the intensity of the connection you’d just shared.

jake chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “i think ‘wow’ might be an understatement,” he replied, his voice laced with warmth and affection. the way he looked at you—those smoldering eyes now filled with adoration—made your heart flutter.

you smiled, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. “i’ve never felt anything quite like that before,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, each touch igniting little sparks of electricity that danced along your skin.

“neither have i,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “i’ve never felt this way about anyone.” the sincerity in his tone sent warmth flooding through you, wrapping around your heart in a comforting embrace.

there was something undeniably special about this moment—the vulnerability mixed with a deep sense of intimacy that transcended desire alone. it was as if everything that had happened prior to this night had led you both to this very point, entwined in each other’s lives.

“i don’t want this to end,” you murmured, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. jake tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering certainty.

“then it doesn’t have to,” he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting into a reassuring smile. “i want to be here with you, like this—always.” the weight of his words washed over you, a promise that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss that sent shivers cascading down your spine. it was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed you both just moments before. you melted into the kiss, savoring the soft connection as it deepened, leaving you feeling cherished and adored.

as you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, feeling utterly content. “so, what now?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “we enjoy every moment of this.” he stretched out his arms, pulling you onto him fully, allowing you to rest against his chest once more. you could feel his warmth envelop you, and it felt like coming home.

he chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through you as he nestled his chin on the top of your head. “we can talk, watch a movie, or just stay like this… feeling each other’s warmth.”

you glanced up, your heart swelling with affection as you caught his gaze. “what about breakfast? i'm definitely going to need breakfast after, uh, all that.”

jake laughed, a rich sound that filled the room and made you smile. “i promise to whip up something amazing. pancakes? eggs? both?”

“definitely both,” you said with enthusiasm, your smile widening at the thought.

“then it’s a plan,” he replied, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. you both lingered there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

as you lay together, gently teasing with whispered jokes and laughter, you realized that this was just the beginning of something beautiful—a connection entrenched in more than just passion; it was friendship, warmth, and the promise of what was to come.

and as the soft light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, you knew one thing for sure: you were ready to embrace every moment spent with him, side by side, with laughter and love leading the way. together, you would write the beautiful story of your lives, one day and one moment at a time.

remember my requests are open, feel free to send some !! hope u guys liked this one, im a sucker for jake. pls reblog it would help a lot <33

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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago

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sinful sentences (eight)

fernando alonso - "someone should punish you for that."

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), dirty talk, mafia au, enforcer!reader x mafia boss!fernando, dom/sub dynamic, established relationship/marriage, injury, spanking & punishments

sinful sentences catalogue

"she turns quite a few heads." mark said as he shifted his stance at the sight of you in the warehouse with your hand curled into the bloodied button-up of a man fernando had been looking across spain for.

fernando chuckled as he watched you throw another punch. watching you defeat men near twice your size was one of fernando's favourite things to observe. to see his beloved enforcer take care of the alonso family. he placed took his handkerchief from the front pocket of his suit. he replied, "well, i think if a man looked at her the wrong way they'd be dealt with."

mark looked to his close friend and asked, "you'd kill them?"

fernando made a face and shook his head, "no, no. she'd kill them." then approached you to give you the handkerchief to clean the blood off your hands.

"my angel." he said as he examined your fists once you got home to your lavish home out in the country. he guided you further into the home and towards the kitchen, "you didn't need to hurt him that badly. he was more than willing to give us the money." he kissed your cheek and you melted a little against him.

"his face annoyed me." you said grumpily, "he looked like he would do something like this again. harm the family."

fernando left you by the kitchen island and went to grab ice for his little enforcer. he replied, "you mean our family, right, my love? after all, according to the license, we share a last name. that means we share the family." he wrapped ice in a dish towel and went back to tend to your bruises. you were in much better shape than the man who was brought before your fury. but still, fernando didn't want your knuckles stained purple with bruises.

"thank you, nando." you said softly. you felt the mask you wore for the family start to slip. underneath, was his wife. the woman he met after you tried to save him from a wallet thief. and then became closer to him than any bulletproof vest. no one suspected you to be his wife, not even the likes of mark webber knew about your marriage.

he touched your face gently and you looked him in the eyes as his other hand dabbed the make-shift ice pack against your hands. he said to you, "you didn't need to turn him purple. liam lawson is a name that carries some weight outside of here. especially with the likes of verstappen. and we don't want to anger him right now."

you made a face, "verstappen is not fond of him because leclerc isn't fond of him. i'm doing them a favour. he is a sniveling little rat who owed us money. i sent a message." you showed no remorse in your language. your husband found that exciting.

fernando made a face for a brief moment then smiled at you, "someone should punish you for that." then his dark eyes looked at you and you felt a thrill run through you. you could take fernando in a fight, but sexually, you were on your knees like your husband was a god taken human form.

you swallowed and leaned further into his touch on your face. your eyes closed, "i solely give myself over to mister alonso." a phrase of confirmation, that you wanted your husband. some may call you an attack dog, but you were simply a puppy to your lover's touch. especially when he cared for you so deeply.

he kissed you softly on the lips and said, "good, i love when you say those words. they sound right to come off your lips." he continued to ice your hands before he took the less bruised one and led you to your lavish bedroom.

you were a successful boxer, but that felt like a life time ago. fernando saw promise in you. he saw something in you that no one else did. no one took you seriously because you were a woman, but not fernando. no, fernando saw what you were capable of, and what started out as an arrangement for an enforcer for the alonso family, turned into a deep romantic relationship. and your mafia boss of a husband was more than willing to take care of every mark left on your body. you were powerful and fernando cherished you.

you were stripped over your clothes, fernando touched the softest parts of you. your ass and your thighs, his hand lingered before he kissed you. you moaned into the kiss, any pain in your hands were taken away by your lover's tender kisses. you moaned into the kiss and fernando pulled away.

"bent over the bed, my love." he said, "you need to remember for next time to not be so brutal towards men who didn't deserve it. on the clock, you listen to me. right? i'm the boss and you gave yourself over to me." he reached for your shoulder and found the lion tattoo you had been given to signify your place in the family.

you nodded, "yes, sir." then pulled away to bend over the bed. you knew that you probably didn't act the smartest. but your loyalty was undying, your belief in the family was unwavering. sometimes that meant being abrasive, being the muscle that your husband believed you to be. when you felt the slap across your left ass cheek, you tensed up but fernando rubbed the skin.

"don't flinch, you are stronger than that." he said with a softness to his tone, "you know that you are safe and you are loved, you are taken care of by me. now and forever." he kissed the center of your back before he landed another slap, then another, than another. each time the skin burned but not as much as the fire of want through your core.

you swallowed and held onto the covers as another spank hit across your skin. you felt the stammer in your heart as the pleasure built in your body from the punishment. maybe you were a glutton for the pain. he continued to smack your ass and you let out a small moan. it only made your husband rub your sore behind.

"you are always do good for me, my love. you know exactly how to make a man like me weak. your beauty, your power, it all comes together like a symphony. your moans are music to my ears." he kissed your shoulders before he landed another harsh smack, "but you need to listen. you are not above orders, my love. you are an important part of my life, so that is why i cannot have you beating men until they are purple." he landed another spank across your ass and added quietly, "if i lost you, my dove. nothing would keep me from tearing the earth in two." then turned your head a little to lean over you and capture your lips.

you understood. you weren't just his enforcer, you were his wife. eventually he broke the kiss and he patted your behind before you scrambled into bed onto your back. your breathing was a tad heightened from the feeling of your husband's strong hand across your ass.

"you're amazing." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed and undid his button up shirt. you swallowed and shifted a little on the bed, his praise made your ears burn, "you are beautiful." he said quietly. he looked good at his clothes came off, you saw the tattoos on his skin and you swallowed.

he looked good with the ink on his skin. even your initials on his hipbone, which was an addition when you got married. he said that a ring was permanent enough. once everything was off, he climbed into bed with you and took you in his arms. he admired you for a moment before you started to kiss deeply.

"fernando."

he eyed you once more before he got between your legs, "you are by far the more impressive woman i have ever laid eyes on. there is a certain magic about you that keeps me so enchanted by you. you're perfect, beautiful. everything to me." then felt a surge of want through him. he added, "you have made my life so different, thank you." then held onto the covers with one hand while he guided his cock into you gently. you tensed for a moment, but you relaxed against the bed as he got all the way inside of you.

"you feel good."

"you feel better, my dove." he replied as he started to move against you. it felt good, being this intensely close to you. two pieces of a whole, there for one another. he felt want for you, but he also felt total devotion towards his wife. he liked that you were powerful enough to beat anymore, but he also wanted to protect you. you were his wife, his love! of course he worried for you.

he promised that he would dedicate his life to you, and even though you were beyond capable. he worried about his wife. he held onto the covers tighter, not with both hands as he pace quickened.

"fernando, there is no need to flirt with me. i'm already your wife." you said lovingly.

he leaned in a little closer and felt the love in his chest, "oh, my love. just because we are married doesn't mean i stop loving you. if anything i should be more loving." his tone was like honey and his words only made him sound more sweet. it made your heart race and and smile a little. fernando continued his movements, he eyed at you closely. he watched your expressions as he licked his lips. he felt a similar want in his body. he felt something pull you in closely.

you held onto his shoulders tightly with your hips partially raised to give fernando the best angle to fuck you. which almost made your toes curl and feel the sparks of want in your head as the two of your made love on the bed.

"you feel amazing, fernando. fuck. i love you."

"and i love you."

you kissed once more, you kissed deeply with an insatiable want for him. your nails grazed across his shoulders as your lover kissed you on the lips. it felt amazing, your stomach was in knots in a way that excited you. you exhaled deeply against him, you felt the flow of want through you. you moaned against his lips as he clutched the covers tightly once more. you exhaled deeply and felt the thrill of want through you. you clenched your legs around his waist as he worked your body against his. it only felt right, perfect halves of a whole.

he picked up pace until he was really working your body. you cursed under your breath as you felt the surge of want through your core as his thrusts hit all the right parts. it was a kind of perfect that made your head spin with sexual want.

you moaned loudly with an intense want as he pleasured you. you felt hot all over, everything felt erotic to the feeling of him. you loved him, you loved your husband with an affection that went soul deep. you said to him, "fernando! ah! nando!"

he groaned before he asked, "how does it feel, my dove? does it feel good for you? you love how i make love to you, how i make you feel good." he felt his heart hammering in your chest. he put his hands on your hips as he worked against you.

orgasm felt close, the pleasure felt immense in ways that made his heart hammer quicker. he held onto you tightly and fucked you with a fever that could not be matched by any other feelings. he panted heavily and your nails dug into his shoulders a little tighter.

you shuddered a moan and the pleasure just rocked through your body in a made that made your toes curl. you held on tightly and arched your back. it washed over you, you said sweet words to your husband, "i love you. more than anything, fernando. you give me all the love i'd ever desire. i'd ever want. fuck."

fernando licked his lips, "what a beautiful woman, so powerful. and yet so beautiful under me. you look divine, my dove. more so than anything else in this world. i cannot get enough of you." he said with a total sense of love in his tone. his kissed you once more before he went in for a heavy kiss.

you moaned against his lips as he finished inside of you. your tightened your legs around his waist as you stayed there kissing. with fernando's pace slowed to a stop. just enjoying the feeling of one another before your husband laid out beside you. he pulled the covers that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed all the way to the top. you held onto him lovingly and let your head get petted by your husband. you sighed happily and let yourself enjoy his company. his love.

"you are so perfect." he said softly as he held you in his arms. you loved him deeply in return and laid curled up with him. fernando was a scary man in spain, but laid out with you. he was your loving, perfect husband. and you, his wife <3

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ambers-archive · 2 days ago

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About you

Chasing cars pt 1

Spencer goes into work the next day, trying not to idealize you too much.

What did you look like? How long had you been writing?

He had spent most of the night before going through your blog, like a treasure he had found after being lost at sea for so long.

You mainly talked about your day, with some snippets about family, but it was your writing that drew him in.

You often wrote about interpersonal relationships, the identities you cultivated around people. You talked about being single in your 20s, and suddenly, Spencer felt so out of reach.

You were only in your 20s? He felt so much older.

Like life was passing him by, he thought. And through your words, he could embrace it.

Slowly, his reverie is broken, his mind forced onto the case in front of him.

The case goes by, like any other. He keeps himself detached, mainly due to Emily’s death. The work they do often feels like pouring into an empty cup.

What’s the point if they can’t save the ones they love the most?

“Earth to Reid.”

Morgan’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and Spencer blinks, realizing the entire team is staring at him.

“You good?” JJ asks, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies almost instantly.

On the way to the jet, he walks through the halls and can almost see Emily, almost hear her laughter.

Being a man of science, he doesn’t believe in God. But if there were one, he wonders—how much more suffering can he take?

He takes the furthest seat on the jet, closing his eyes and remembering your words:

"The start of my twenties were wasted, wondering when love would find me. Now all I want to do is embrace all that I have. I might not have a lover, but I have friends who will wipe my tears for me. I have a sister who will take my hand in hers, holding my heart so dearly. And despite everything, I find myself eternally thankful for the love that’s never left."

That was the last passage Spencer read from your blog.

Your words itch at the deepest part of his brain, and despite being an abstract concept, he will gladly make a mural of them.

He wants to remember them forever.

He spends a few days on the sidelines before he finally reaches out to you.

With shaky hands, he types your Outlook email into the recipient field.

What should he say?

Pushing the thought aside, he types:

"Hi there, I hope this finds you well. I stumbled across your writings, and now your blog. I wanted to let you know you’re an amazing writer. I’ve read a lot of my own thoughts being brought to life by your words."

He pauses. It feels too formal, too clinical. He hesitates, then adds:

"I know we don’t know each other, but I wanted to reach out because your writing resonated with me. Thank you for sharing your thoughts."

He stares at the screen, fingers hovering over the send button.

Then, in one swift motion, before he can second-guess himself—he clicks.

And immediately regrets it.

Spencer leans back, heart pounding.

What if you don’t respond? What if you do? What if you think he’s strange for reaching out?

He groans, pressing his hands to his face. He shouldn’t have sent it. He should have just left it alone.

But then, an hour later, just as he’s about to force himself to sleep—

His phone vibrates.

A new email.

His breath catches as he opens it.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #my writing #writing #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff

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misshoneyimhome · 1 day ago

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What’s up, buttercups!

This one wasn’t exactly requested, but I do hold @willianmylander and @couldawouldashoulda50 fully responsible for making it impossible to get this new Leafy out of my head 😏🔥 [To the requests in my inbox, I do see you 😊]

Prompt: You drunkenly confess your feelings—only to wake up the next morning and try to pretend it never happened… but he’s not about to let it slide.

Tropes & Warnings: Steven Lorentz x reader, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, Smut 18+, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, cum inside.

Word count: 3.9K

➼｡ﾟ

Drunk Confessions I Steven Lorentz ☆

You weren’t entirely sure when it had started—this lingering tension between you and Steven Lorentz.

It had crept in slowly, like a shift in the air that you didn’t notice until it was already thick around you.

At first, it was nothing. Just casual conversations at post-game gatherings, friendly teasing when you happened to be sitting near each other. Steven was easy to talk to, always quick with a joke or a sarcastic remark, always making someone laugh.

But then, at some point, things changed.

It was in the way he started remembering the little things—how you took your coffee, your favourite song on the bar’s playlist, the exact way you rolled your eyes when he said something ridiculous. It was in the way his hand would linger at the small of your back when he guided you through a crowded room, or the way his knee would brush against yours under the table and he wouldn’t move it away.

You caught yourself looking for him more.

At team gatherings, your eyes would instinctively scan the room until they landed on him. And the second you did, he was already smirking, as if he knew you’d been looking.

And maybe the worst part? You had started to expect him.

Somewhere in the last few months, Steven had gone from just a new name in the group chat to the one you looked forward to texting back. His name popping up on your phone wasn’t just another notification—it was a reason to smile before you even read what he sent.

The teasing had started to mean something different, too.

“You sure you don’t just come to these things for me?” he had asked one night, leaning against the bar beside you, his voice low, playful.

You had scoffed, taking a sip of your drink. “In your dreams, Lorentz.”

He had grinned, tilting his head. “You don’t deny it, though.”

That was how it always was—subtle, hidden in layers of sarcasm and humour, both of you pretending like there wasn’t anything beneath it.

Maybe it was just Steven being Steven.

Maybe it was flirting.

But if it was just harmless fun, why did your heart race whenever he leaned in close, voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch?

Why did he always seem to find a way to stand just a little too close?

And why did it feel like the space between you was shrinking, little by little, with every shared glance, every quiet moment that stretched just long enough to make you wonder—

When had you stopped pretending you didn’t want more?

The bar was a blur of laughter and clinking glasses, the air buzzing with energy and the warmth of good company. It had been one of those nights where time slipped away, where drinks disappeared faster than expected, and inhibitions loosened with every shot taken in celebration.

Your friends were used to your occasional tipsy ramblings, but tonight felt… different.

It wasn’t just the alcohol making your head spin—it was him.

Steven.

He wasn’t even here, but somehow, his presence lingered, like an itch beneath your skin that you couldn’t scratch. He was in the back of your mind when you laughed at something, when your phone buzzed and you secretly hoped it was him. When you felt the ghost of his touch on your shoulder, even though he hadn’t been near you all night.

You weren’t blackout drunk, but you were buzzed enough to feel unsteady, emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. And when your friend caught you staring at your phone—at the last conversation you had with Steven—they took it upon themselves to act.

Without hesitation, they grabbed your phone and dialled his number before you could stop them.

You barely had time to process it before he picked up.

“Hey, Lorentz, your girl needs a ride.”

Your breath hitched. Your girl.

Your friend was already smirking as they shoved the phone into your hand, and you fumbled to protest.

“I—Steven, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

He didn’t even let you finish.

The call ended, and your heart was pounding.

You expected him to be annoyed, maybe even a little exasperated. But when he pulled up outside the bar, the first thing you noticed was how calm he looked.

No questions. No sigh of frustration. Just Steven, leaning against his car with that easy stance of his, waiting for you.

And when you climbed in, his eyes scanned over you, checking. “You okay?”

You nodded, suddenly shy, suddenly too aware of how close you were in the small space of his car.

“Just… please don’t vomit,” he chuckled lightly.

Oh, that chuckle.

The drive was quiet at first. No music, just the hum of the engine and the faint buzz in your ears from the alcohol.

But your mind was racing.

Thinking about how quickly he had come to get you. Thinking about how steady he looked behind the wheel, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Thinking about how maybe—just maybe—you were done pretending this was just casual.

Your head swam, your stomach twisted—not with nausea, but with something softer, lighter. A flutter.

In that moment, you realised you were more intoxicated than you’d initially thought. But with it came an unexpected surge of confidence, a boldness you wouldn’t have found otherwise.

You swallowed hard. “Steven,” you spoke.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, pulse thrumming in your throat. The words were easier with liquid courage, but they still made your heart pound.

“I like you.”

His grip on the steering wheel flexed. He didn’t look away from the road, but you could see his jaw tighten; could feel the weight of your words hanging between you.

“You—” He let out a breath, half-laughing, like he was trying to keep things light. “You like me?”

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking. “Yeah.” Your voice was softer now, more certain. “I think I have for a while.”

Silence.

The longest silence of your life.

Then, finally, Steven pulled into your driveway, shifted the car into park, and turned to look at you.

His blue eyes were unreadable, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Let’s get you inside, sweetheart.”

You expected him to drop you off and head home. Maybe give you a we’ll talk later kind of look.

But Steven Lorentz wasn’t the kind of guy to leave someone alone when they needed him. Not in the state you were in.

He made sure you drank some water, pressed painkillers into your hand for the morning, and when you mumbled something about not wanting to be alone, he didn’t hesitate. Just a quiet nod, no questions asked.

As he helped you into bed, your lips curved into a sleepy, sheepish smile, your eyelids already growing heavy.

“…Thanks, Steven.”

His gaze softened, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Always, sweetheart,” he murmured, before grabbing a blanket and settling himself on the couch—like staying was the most natural thing in the world.

The morning after Steven stayed over, everything felt almost normal.

He left before you woke up, but there was a text waiting for you when you groggily checked your phone.

Steven: Didn’t wanna wake you. Drink water. Eat something. See you soon, yeah?

Your stomach had flipped at those words.

You’d told yourself it didn’t mean anything—just Steven being his usual self. But the way he looked at you lingered in your mind. The way he stayed when he didn’t have to.

And then, the weirdness started.

Steven wasn’t avoiding you exactly, but something had changed. He still joked around, still sent you dumb memes, but there was something restrained in his actions—something careful.

Like he was waiting for you to say something first.

You caught him watching you more than once. When you looked up from your phone at the rink, his gaze would flick away too quickly. When someone cracked a joke at dinner and you turned to laugh with him, he was already smiling, but it wasn’t quite his smile.

And every time you thought about the words you’d blurted out in his car, your stomach twisted.

Did he think you’d only said it because you were drunk? Did you?

You weren’t sure.

But Steven was thinking about it, too.

It played in his head like a song stuck on repeat, your voice soft but certain in the quiet of his car. I like you.

He’d wanted to say something then. Wanted to pull the car over, tip your chin up, and kiss you. But you had been drunk, and he hadn’t wanted your first confession—your first moment—to be something you woke up regretting.

So he’d waited.

But the waiting was killing him.

It had been eating at him for days. The uncertainty, the what-ifs. And he wasn’t the type to sit around and let things hang in the air forever.

So when he saw you standing in the tunnels before warmups, looking like you belonged there just as much as any of the guys’ partners, something inside him snapped.

“Hey.”

Your head lifted at the sound of his voice, and just like that, his whole body felt lighter.

But there was no teasing grin on his face, no easy-going charm in his tone.

Not this time.

You must have noticed, because your smile faltered slightly. “Hey.”

For a second, he just looked at you, lips pressed together like he was working up the nerve to say something.

And then—

“Did you mean it?”

The question landed between you like a dropped puck on fresh ice—sudden, sharp, impossible to ignore.

Your breath caught.

You knew what he was asking. The night he picked you up. The words you let slip in the passenger seat of his car. The ones you hadn’t talked about since. Steven wasn’t letting it go. Not tonight.

His blue eyes searched yours, waiting. You opened your mouth—

“Lorentz, let’s go!”

A voice cut through the moment, and Steven cursed under his breath. His jaw tightened, his gaze flicking between the locker room door and you.

“I—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Shit.”

The moment was slipping away. He took a step closer, his fingers brushing over yours—fleeting, barely there, but enough to send shivers up your spine.

“When I come back…” His voice was lower now, just for you.

“Come on! LET’S GO!”

And then he was gone.

You spent the entire game and intermissions feeling like your heart was stuck in your throat.

Steven was on fire. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was something else, but he was all over the ice—flying down the wing, setting up plays, laying out hits. He was locked in, focused.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

The Leafs won.

And as the buzzer sounded, sealing the victory, you realised—you had exactly zero time to figure out what to say before you saw him again.

The locker room doors burst open, players flooding out, all grins and victory laughs, jerseys clinging to sweat-dampened skin. The energy in the air was electric.

And then—

Steven.

He was still in his gear, hair sticking to his forehead, jersey damp with sweat. His eyes locked onto you instantly. And he didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even give you a second to think.

He walked straight up to you, stopping so close that the heat of him, the scent of ice and sweat and something distinctly him, surrounded you. His voice was quieter this time, but just as sure.

“Please, tell me.”

Your breath hitched. He didn’t need to specify. You knew what he wanted. And for the first time in days, you didn’t hold back.

“I meant it.” His jaw clenched. Your heart pounded. “I like you, Steven.”

His breath left him in a sharp exhale, and then—

Then he moved.

One second, you were staring at him, heart racing, and the next, his hands were on your waist, pulling you in, and he was kissing you—hard.

The world around you faded, the noise, the people—none of it mattered. Because Steven Lorentz was kissing you like he’d been waiting forever, like your words were the only thing keeping him on solid ground.

You barely registered the cheers, the playful oohs from his teammates. All you felt was him.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, he was smiling.

“Took you long enough, sweetheart.”

You laughed breathlessly, fingers curling into his jersey. “Worth the wait?” you teased.

His grin turned into something softer, something real. “Every damn second.”

The kiss left you breathless, Steven’s body still flush against yours, his hands firm where they gripped your waist.

The world around you still existed—the cheering teammates, the lingering energy of the game—but none of it mattered. Not when Steven was looking at you like this. Like he’d won something bigger than the game tonight.

He exhaled, his forehead still resting lightly against yours, lips just barely brushing. “I should get showered.”

You swallowed hard, fingers still clutching his jersey. You should let go. You should step back.

But instead, you lifted your chin slightly, brushing your lips against his one more time, just enough to feel the way he inhaled sharply at the contact.

His grip tightened.

“Come over after?” you whispered.

Steven’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering down to your lips, then back up. “Say that again.”

You smirked, feeling bold, feeling dangerous. “Come over after.”

His hands flexed on your waist before he pulled away, just enough to take a step back, blue eyes dark as they swept over you. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You grinned, giving him one last teasing brush of your fingers over his forearm before stepping away. “Hurry up, Lorentz.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You barely had time to process what was happening before you heard the knock at your door. It had been maybe an hour since he walked off the ice, but now, standing in your doorway in a hoodie and sweats, damp hair curling slightly from his post-game shower, he looked softer. But there was nothing soft about the way he was looking at you now.

“Hi,” you breathed.

Steven let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Hi.”

Then he stepped inside, kicked the door shut behind him, and pinned you against it.

His mouth crashed against yours, and this time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. This wasn’t the heat of the moment at the arena, wasn’t a tentative first kiss filled with weeks of longing. This was hunger.

This was Steven groaning into your mouth as his hands slid down your waist, gripping at your hips like he needed to feel every inch of you.

This was you gasping when his tongue teased against yours, when his teeth grazed your bottom lip just so. This was your back arching when his hands pushed under your shirt, fingers skimming over the bare skin of your stomach, sliding up—

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look at you, breathless and flushed. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

Your stomach flipped, and you reached up, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “Then stop talking and take me to bed, Lorentz.”

His answering growl sent a shiver down your spine. And then you were moving—his hands gripping your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his mouth hot on your neck as he carried you to the bedroom.

The second your back hit the mattress, he was on you.

His hoodie was gone in seconds, and you didn’t even get a chance to appreciate the sight of him shirtless before his hands were on your clothes, tugging your shirt over your head, lips trailing down your throat, across your collarbone—

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he rasped against your skin, fingers brushing along the band of your bra. “Tell me you want this.”

Your pulse pounded, heat pooling low in your stomach as you arched into his touch. “I want this, Stevie.”

That was all he needed.

His mouth was on you again, hands making quick work of your bra, his lips wrapping around a sensitive peak as his palm smoothed over your stomach, sliding lower—

And when his fingers finally slipped beneath the waistband of your leggings, teasing, testing—

You gasped, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders.

Steven groaned, pulling back just enough to watch you, his blue eyes dark with something dangerous.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick with want, “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

And with the way he pressed his fingers against you, the way his lips curled into a knowing smirk at your whimper. You knew you were in for a long, long night.

The world outside your bedroom didn’t exist anymore.

Not the city lights glowing faintly through the curtains, not the lingering adrenaline from the Leafs’ victory, and certainly not the nervous flutter in your stomach that had been there for days. All that mattered was this.

His mouth was on you, hot and insistent, trailing down your collarbone with slow, open-mouthed kisses. His fingers traced over the exposed skin of your waist with deliberate patience—too slow, too teasing.

You groaned, tugging at his hair. “Steven—”

His chuckle was low, rough against your skin. “Patience, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want patience. You wanted him. You wanted the way his body felt hovering over you, broad and solid, the way his hands roamed like he was memorising every inch of you.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for months,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your hipbone. His fingers hooked under the waistband of your leggings, and then, in one smooth motion, he was sliding them down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.

Your breath hitched as he leaned back, taking you in.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice almost reverent, blue eyes dark as they swept over your body.

The intensity in his gaze made your skin burn. And when he ran his hands up your thighs, settling between them, you swore your entire body shook.

“Look at you,” he murmured, brushing his lips over your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you needed him most. “Bet you’re already soaking for me, huh?”

Your fingers curled into the sheets. “Steve—”

He smirked, dragging a single finger down the centre of your underwear, feeling the dampness there. “Fuck,” he breathed, groaning against your skin. “So needy.”

You whined, arching into his touch, and that was all it took for him to lose whatever patience he had left.

With one swift motion, he tugged your underwear down and off, and before you could even process the sensation of being completely bare beneath him, his mouth was on your cunt.

You gasped, your back arching as his tongue flicked over your clit, slow and deliberate, like he was savouring you.

Steven groaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice muffled as he buried himself deeper.

Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, tugging—earning you a growl that vibrated through you in the best way possible.

He licked, sucked, teased, alternating between lazy strokes and firm pressure, keeping you on the edge but never quite letting you fall over it.

And when he finally slid a finger inside you—long and thick, curling just right—you moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth.

“That’s it,” he groaned, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. “Let me hear you.”

You weren’t sure if you could be quiet, not with the way he was working you open, adding another finger, stretching you, his mouth still locked around your clit.

You could already feel yourself spiralling, heat coiling low in your stomach, tension building with every stroke of his fingers, every flick of his tongue—

And then he pulled away.

You whined, eyes flying open to find him grinning down at you, chin slick with your juices.

He pressed a kiss to your stomach, then higher, nipping at your collarbone as he whispered, “Not yet.”

Your breath was shaky, frustration and need flooding through you. “Steven, please—”

He groaned, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, inhaling deeply. “You begging for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically, wrapping your legs around his waist, tugging him closer.

Steven smirked, shifting slightly so you could feel the evidence of how much he wanted you, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh through his sweats.

“Fuck,” he muttered, gripping your hips. “Been thinking about this since the second you said you liked me.”

You whined again, grinding against him, desperate for more. “Then do something about it.”

He exhaled sharply, like he was barely holding himself together, and then he was moving—reaching between you, pushing his sweats and boxers down just enough, and—

Your breath caught.

He was big. Thick. Perfect.

Steven must have noticed the way your eyes widened, because he smirked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as he teased the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“You good, sweetheart?” His voice was softer now, almost tender, despite the sheer hunger in his gaze.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “You’re gonna kill me.”

And then, finally, he pushed in.

You both moaned at the feeling—him stretching you, filling you, burying himself deep with a low, guttural groan.

“Shit,” he rasped, pausing for a second, letting you adjust. “You feel fucking perfect.”

You could barely breathe, pleasure already curling through every nerve in your body.

“Move,” you begged, nails digging into his back. “Stevie, please—”

He snapped his hips forward, and you cried out, the slow build from earlier making everything too much, too good.

Steven groaned, setting a steady, deep pace, rocking into you with measured control, like he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.

“You’re so tight,” he gritted out, one hand gripping your thigh, the other tangled in the sheets. “So fucking perfect.”

Your head was spinning, moans spilling from your lips without shame.

“Steven—fuck—”

“Yeah?” His pace quickened, his control slipping. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically, pleasure crashing through you, heat spreading like wildfire as your body clenched around him.

Steven groaned, thrusting harder, chasing his own release as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“That’s it,” he growled, burying his face in your neck, pressing messy kisses along your skin. “Come on, baby—give it to me.”

And then—you shattered.

The orgasm hit like a fucking tidal wave, pleasure ripping through every inch of you, your nails digging into Steven’s shoulders as you cried out his name.

Steven cursed, his hips faltering as he followed right behind you, spilling deep inside you with a ragged moan, his entire body shuddering with the force of it.

For a few moments, all you could hear was the sound of your heavy breathing, the way your bodies pressed together, completely wrecked.

Then, finally, Steven let out a breathless, amazed chuckle.

“Holy shit.”

You laughed—light, tired, happy. “Yeah.”

Steven lifted his head just enough to kiss you again, this time soft and slow, like he wasn’t in any rush to go anywhere. Like he had you right where he wanted.

And when he pulled back, his eyes scanning over you, something warm flickered across his face.

“You meant it, right?” he murmured, voice quieter now. “That you like me?”

You smiled, brushing your fingers over his jaw.

“Every damn second.”

#smut 18+#steven lorentz imagine #steven lorentz x reader #steven lorentz smut #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl smut

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gethoce · 2 days ago

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I know it has been a while but I've been very stressed out and still am but I really wanna wrap this up somehow regardless.

First of all WOW to think that Valfrey would be number 2 in total propaganda! Sure, a lot was just me, but bunch of other people came in and ended up drawing her and making me feel included despite me struggling to socialise!

I was hoping I could draw the characters of everyone who showed their support at one point or another to celebrate, but as things stand I can not realistically tackle such a task. Just know that I am very grateful and have not forgotten. Maybe I'll be able to pay back your kindness someday. </3

(My honest recap of the tournament as a whole under the cut)

As some may know, I didn't join the first tournament. I was way too worried it'd just stress me out to be put into a competitive situation. So why did I join the second tournament? Mostly to finally participate in one of these Kirby community events. Put myself out there for once, jump over my shadow and attempt to socialise a little. So how did it go?

Uuuuuraaaargh…??

Trouble started already when I posted my character intro. I chose Valfrey because she is my favourite OC even though she isn't even my own most popular character. I didn't expect her to do well given how most posts that included her largely flopped. Since I didn't have much time and felt pressured to post my intro quickly I used existing art and quickly wrote some summed up information about her. Perhaps I could have done one of these cool intros some people drew up but I felt like I'd not be able to do that without ending up even more stressed. While I didn't expect the post to do well it was… still a little disappointing that it didn't really get attention. Panicked I drew up the icon featured in this post which also flopped so I stopped using it as my icon not too long after. Curse this insecurity.

The next hurdle showed itself when I noticed that my intro post didn't get reblogged by the tournament blog either. I was on the list of participants but the reblog didn't come. I decided to just wait and hope that it's just stuck in the queue somewhere. … so I waited. And waited…and waited… until it was clear that my post could not have been in the queue. I was frankly too nervous about contacting the mods, but thanks to the help of an amazin friend they were contacted and my post was finally reblogged.

That was also when people finally began to interact with Valfrey in my inbox too. It may have been a coincidence but I felt like the reblog might have helped.

ROUND 1 …

I fully expected to lose immediately. There was little hope in my heart in that regard. What I wanted to do was have a good time sharing my work and interacting with others. I did not have a good time during round 1. First of all I was too nervous to even look at the poll initially. I just didn't want to see it. It was pretty late for me when it was uploaded anyway (I live in Europe, that is public knowledge) so I decided to go to bed after posting some art.

The next morning I checked the tournament discord server. I was told people have said nice things there about me and Valfrey before and I thought maybe there is something new to improve my mood a little. Things were pretty tough irl as well so I was looking forward to a little pick me up. … There was… certainly talk about me and Valfrey. But not the kind that would bring me any joy.

First of all I want to be clear here… DO NOT HARASS THE PEOPLE I AM GOING TO TALK ABOUT. I'll just call them A and B. I just want to talk about my experience and hope that people will be more mindful in the future.

So, that not so beautiful Monday morning I stumbled across this conversation on the very much public discord server between A and B. A was apparently nervous because I had not yet responded to a message they sent me. Again, I live in Europe. It was night time for me. On a Sunday. For some reason neither of these two even considered time zones. One speculated that I was probably “getting flooded by asks” because they thought I have “a huge following” while the other thought I might be sick. The latter seems a bit more charitable at least but come on… I have things to do. Like sleeping at night. Just so you know the message A sent me was the only one I got that night. I have a niche blog within a niche fandom. I do not have a huge following, especially not the kind of following that would “flood me with asks”.

And then… oh, and then… B decided to hype up my opponent's OC… and tear down Valfrey afterwards. They basically called my work uncreative. This is something I do have absolutely no tolerance for. I dont even care which OC you are talking about, mine or anyone else's, this is unacceptable behaviour. Even if you do not like an OC, not all thoughts need to be expressed. You won't ever catch me badmouth anyone's OC even in DMs. You can compliment one OC without tearing down another.

I couldn't bring myself to answer that message for a few days and then finally told them that I am uncomfortable with what was said on the server and didn't want to continue interacting and blocked both A and B.

The next three rounds thankfully went rather smoothly. There was Artfight in between so I had less time to work on tournament stuff. Mostly narrow wins for Valfrey! Good fights and all. I even became comfortable enough to look at the polls sometimes. Not enough to look at the notes but still.

And then round 4 came around and you all know what happened. Some third party scumbag botted trying to get Valfrey to lose for unknown reason ruining the whole thing for both me and my opponent, who dropped out not long after and honestly I kinda wished I had too given what was waiting for me at round 5. I mostly kept quiet at the time believing in the ability of the mods to handle the situation. A lot of drama happened that I merely observed, not all related to the sabotage. I didn't think me chiming in too much would improve the situation so I didn't. It was very unpleasant overall and without going into too much detail I wished it could have been different. I honestly thought my opponent could have won against Valfrey naturally and was looking forward to it so I could catch a break but it wasn't meant to be.

Round 5… oh boy round 5… I really admired my opponent so I made sure to do some art after missing out the last few times! It was a tough battle and I was amazed to see Valfrey holding her own against such an incredible OC. I was certain her opponent would win in the end, they were leading by just a few percent and I was fine with that. (I had been ready to call it a day for a while, really just wanted to get past round 3 so I could avoid the second chance bracket.)

And then it happened again. Another sabotage against Valfrey. I still don't know why that happened and don't think that speculating based on nothing is helpful in any way, but part of me at least wanted to give it a good try to make it through the replacement poll out of spite towards the scumbag who attacked me twice. I still fully expected my opponent to win, that OC is just that great and very much rightfully popular, but we managed to win in the end!

I kind of wished I had just dropped out, however. My opponent hasn't interacted with me since and I'm afraid that event may have soured their view of me, which deeply saddens me. I don't know if there was anything I could have done to prevent this from happening after the sabotage occurred, but this wasn't a victory I could really celebrate.

Now to the grand finale… This time things went smoothly with the new system. Valfrey was actually leading at the very beginning much to my surprise. I predicted my opponent would win the tournament from the start so seeing Valfrey do decently meant a lot. Of course we lost in the end. A win would have been pretty cool but I was always fine with losing. Burnout hit me hard at the time though so I went into hiatus for a bit to recover.

The whole tournament was immensely stressful for me a lot of the time. At least some instances didn't need to happen. One thing I haven't brought up yet that bothered me was the mischaracterisation of Valfrey. Early on most of the time she was paired with Sir Uther as his “Sleep Paralysis Demon”, her actual lore being brushed aside. They actually hardly knew each other and the demon thing was supposed to be a one time joke. It felt like she was merely an accessory to this other OC which kinda hurt to see.

Then there were the times she was referred to as a “reaper” and towards the end as the creator of the suns… I don't really use the term reaper in my lore at all. A few times I did say it in response to others using the term though so maybe that's where that came from. Then the sun thing… Perhaps I didn't do a good enough job explaining her lore, but she only created a few suns, not all of them. For the record, she is considered a valkyrie and the primary focuses of her character are: warrior poet, samurai, duality, souls and most importantly she is the Underworld (Yomi) personified. The sun thing is like a thing she did a long time ago and doesn't really think about much anymore.

Also a few times people thought she was a man which, considering her lore, was more funny to me than anything.

Anyway, in conclusion… things didn't quite go as well as I was hoping but other things positively surprised me! Largely a mixed bag. If I ever get to participate in another community event I hope it'll go more smoothly!

Hello again all! After the riveting finale of last year's tournament, we've spent a few months collecting a selection of fun stats into our final 2024 Tournament Review!

From which participant had the most propaganda posted, to the total number of votes cast across the event, to which canon Kirby species was most represented, we hope you'll enjoy this send-off for the 2024 tourney!!

. · ͙ * ̩̩͙˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩̥͙ ✩ * ̩̩̥͙ ˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩͙ ‧ ͙ . . · ͙ * ̩̩͙˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩̥͙ ✩ * ̩̩̥͙ ˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩͙ ‧ ͙ .

★ POLLS WITH THE HIGHEST NUMBER OF VOTES a selection of the highest performing polls that attracted the most public attention

Mama D vs J: 848 votes

★ Dawn vs Starry Dee: 749 votes ★ Fylass vs Clark: 741 votes ★ Astro vs Noir Fontaine vs Techie: 592 votes ★ Sir Meteor vs Life: 554 votes

★ CHARACTERS WITH THE MOST PROPAGANDA characters who had the most propaganda posts for them, either from their own creator or from other artists

Fecto Flora 155 posts

★ Valfrey 112 posts ★ Sir Uther 108 posts ★ Noir Fontaine 98 posts ★ Dotty 95 posts

After applications closed at the end of April, the tournament ran from May 10th, 2024 to October 28th, 2024, just a few days shy of six months! During this time...

★ 143 competitors joined the tournament and made friends ★ 1,813 Propaganda posts were made by the community supporting those competitors, and reblogged to the @kirbyoctournament blog ★ 202 polls were made pitting your favorites against each other ★ across those polls, 43,165 votes were cast ★ and of all these, winners starstruck dee and Rope MF received 1179 votes and 699 votes respectively over the course of the event

★ RANDOM STATS

★ 36% (52) of entered OCs were of the "orb" species, with 33 of those taking up the mantle of "knight" specifically. far and away the most represented species ★ Waddle dees were the next most common entrant, with 17 OCs. ★ Ripple Fairies were the least showcased non common-enemy/custom species type, with only a single representative! ★ Of all OC names, "S" was the most common initial at 16 OCs, a statistic we do feel is influenced by the frequency of "sir" before names. Removing those, it was the letter "A", with 13. ★ The least successful initial was the letter "J", with all but one of their 4 representatives (75%) falling in the first round.

★ PROPAGANDA WITH THE MOST CHARACTERS INCLUDED most tournament characters included in a single piece (or single series) of propaganda

★ Tournament OCs Part One and Part Two by @ivynajspyder with a total of 60 competitors

★ 55 competitors Havent You Noticed I'm A Star? by @giantchasm ★ 29 competitors and 2 non competitors (total 31 characters) Congrats To Fecto Flora! by @ceoofmetagala ★ And an honorable mention with 13 competitors and 15 non competitors (total 28 characters), Stargate Commemorative Piece, by @moonverc3x

During the tournament, creators and fans of all kinds arrived to showcase their best skills in support of their own ocs, their friends, and even brand new favorite characters they had found. While it's of course impossible to pick just one stand out piece -and we strongly recommend you check our full propaganda tag to see many more of these incredible works- here are some notable and unique highlights suggested by the Kirby OC Tourney community!

★ Propaganda Hijack; Music cover by @boa35 ★ Vote Dotty; by @cauliarty ★ Vote Flora; by @metagalacafe ★ Valfrey icon; by @gethoce ★ Friendly Talk; by @sacrificecage

★ Dont Stop Rope MF Now; Animated music video by @mint-termsandconditions ★ Just another Astral; by @aseuki ★ Tea Time; by @quanblovk ★ Nighty Knight Mod; by @windstriker427 ★ Tournament armours; by @rosiegardenlove

★ Havent You Noticed I'm A Star; Animated music video by @giantchasm ★ Motifs and Symbols; by @kirbybecomesastarwarrior ★ Surprise propaganda; by @poppybros-jr ★ Go Life!; by @shippyo ★ Not In The Lead; by @hnm-tech-support

★ Noir's Field Trip; Masterpost of art, comics and asks by @desultory-novice ★ Space battle; by @pinkestmenace ★ Only In Passing; by @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me ★ Wolfbell's Illustrated Roleplays; by @zombiecicada ★ Not Over yet; by @a-stardusted-sky

. · ͙ * ̩̩͙˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩̥͙ ✩ * ̩̩̥͙ ˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩͙ ‧ ͙ . . · ͙ * ̩̩͙˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩̥͙ ✩ * ̩̩̥͙ ˚ ̩̥̩̥ * ̩̩͙ ‧ ͙ .

And with this, we officially conclude the 2024 Kirby OC Tournament event!

Over the next few days we will reblog a few final propaganda posts we received notifications for since October. We also have a new pinned post with an FAQ regarding the tournament and when things may be picked up next!

Thank you for coming along on the ride with us, for sharing your creativity and supporting OCs, and for helping us to make this into a wonderful and enriching community event!

See you around!

117 notes · View notes

1ntaks · 1 day ago

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we overlap.

☆ lee hyunjae x fem!reader — warnings: fluff; fem!reader who wears makeup, more feminine clothing, and has implied long hair that can have fingers run through it; mild miscommunication; drinking; cursing; unspecified small age gap; use of sunbae, hyung (sorry); hyunjae (deserves a warning of his own); flirting; kissing; a lil cringe ☆ 16.6k words, not proofread — author's note: writing style probably changes a lot, this took me a while to write and i am writing academically once more so that affects my writing. it also just took three months, i'm very slow. this is a stand alone work and the only expansion i'm willing to do is what i choose to write and publish, or small asks about their dynamic! thank you so much to my icon and savior @heedeungism for hyping me up and beta-reading. and also obligatory shout out to @cloudykyu sorry i sent you the draft and posted before you replied i love u so bad

You’d always known of Lee Hyunjae.

Not personally. He was popular, a distant figure you’d heard about via whispers in the comms department, a cool upperclassman that people looked up to. Smart. Handsome. You’d heard some people call him friendly and sweet. (Namely, your own friend, Sangyeon, who shared a friend group with the man. You’d never run into Hyunjae yourself despite this, preferring one-on-one hangouts with your, self-proclaimed, older brother.)

Most commonly, you heard that he was unapproachable. He didn’t go out much.

Which is why it was so surprising to see him walk into the math lab, holding a huge box of materials. It must’ve been heavy, his forearm muscles clearly straining as he maneuvered it on top of one of the linoleum tables against the wall.

“Hey, Sangyeon,” Hyunjae pokes his head out in the hall, and you perk up at the mention of him. “Where am I putting the books?” You can’t hear the muffled reply, but you watch him walk back to the table, only to unpack textbook on top of textbook and slide them onto shelves.

You only regain your focus when a pencil jabs your side. “Ow!” You whine, whipping around to glare at Jimin.

She smiles at you sweetly before responding, voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re drooling. Focus on pre-calc.” You huff, looking back over at Hyunjae. He is handsome, you decide, admiring the tight black shirt and his arm muscles. You can’t see much of his face, just a furrowed brow as he tries to organize the materials.

“I’m not drooling,” you reply finally, lamely, to your friend as you twist back towards the table. “I’m… admiring.”

She scoffs. “Right. Well, you can admire after you pass your exam,” she points the pencil at you before shaking her head and sighing. Rude. “Besides, we’re meeting Ryu in like an hour. Hurry up.”

Right. Ryujin had dance practice this morning and demanded to be taken out for lunch after. And you didn’t want to argue with her, ever, but especially not when she was hangry — you swore up and down that your life flashed before your eyes the one time you made that mistake in high school. You still had nightmares.

“I don’t understand any of this,” you whine, looking at the jumble of print on your worksheet. “Can I give up?” You pout at her. She shakes her head ‘no’ and keeps scribbling on her own paper, so you ignore her to lay your head down on the table and watch as Hyunjae breaks down the box. Sangyeon pops his head in and waves at you before checking the time.

“We gotta go, Jae,”

Hyunjae hums, following Sangyeon’s eyes to where you rest. You smile, the small corners up one for strangers, and he gives a small smile back before turning back around. “Then c’mon.”

After a few beats of silence and the faint ding of the elevator, you turn back to Jimin. “So, um, what… what department is he in?”

She laughs, bright and genuine. “You, my friend,” she ruffles your hair and you whine, trying to smooth back the strands as you lean away from her. “Are helpless.”

“I can’t be curious?” She smiles at you. Smugly. Knowingly. Damn her. “Jimin!”

“Alright, alright,” she raises her hand in surrender. “He’s in comms, just like you.”

You hum, smiling softly. He was your upperclassman, technically, more than he was hers. Every department had one of those, right? It didn’t matter. He seemed to live up to the hype you’d heard — helpful, handsome… damn, what other ‘h’ adjective could you tack on?

“You already knew that.” Her words cut off your train of thought and you give a shy nod. “I know just as much about him as you do. If you want to know more about him, why don’t you just ask Sangyeon? They’re in the same friend group.”

“It’s not that easy,” you sulk, doodling roses in the upper right corner of your worksheet. In an ideal world, you’d get extra credit points for making the math prettier. “Sangy will think I’m into him.”

She levels an unimpressed stare at you and sighs, packing up quickly. “Then suffer. I don’t know.” You scrunch up your face in distaste at her words, but hold her water bottle without complaint as she finishes cleaning off your table. “Let’s go. I would kill for some pho right now.”

Her words spur you to scramble after her towards the elevator. Worries about Sangyeon’s nosiness aside, you hadn’t eaten since seven-thirty and you were almost positive that you were starting to see noises as the hunger got to you.

Jimin told you that you were insane. You took it as a compliment.

Sangyeon invited you to his birthday party with his closest friend group. They had planned it, apparently as a surprise but he told you they were god awful at hiding it.

You were a bit hesitant, since you were awkward around new people, but you wanted to be able to celebrate his birthday with him for the first time since you’d become friends. You’d met in late November last year, when you were crying over finals. He’d never let you live it down, but you were glad it happened, as embarrassing as it was. When you’d confirmed, he’d grinned and made you pinky-promise that you wouldn’t flake on him.

So, here you were, the day before his birthday (unfortunately for him, it fell on a Monday), staring at your closet like it had personally offended you. Everything seemed too dressy or way too casual, and despite his reassurances that you could show up in pajamas and be fine, you were worried about what you were going to wear. You wanted to make a good impression on the people he cared about.

You settle on jeans and a black shirt you had definitely bought for a job interview at some point. You slip your lip tint into your bag and study yourself in the mirror. Was your eyeliner uneven? Before you can fix it, you get a text from Sangyeon lighting up your screen — telling you that the “surprise” went well and it’s at his friend’s place.

The address comes in seconds later and you sigh. No going back now.

When you show up, you wish you had brought a jacket, the wind having bit your arms on the way over. You ring the doorbell, rocking back and forth on your feet until it swings open to a smiley face and then — “Sangyeon, your girl is here!”

“She’s like my sister!” He doesn’t even miss a beat in shutting down that teasing, appearing in the doorway a few seconds later. “Hi, Y/N-ie.”

You smile and hug him. “Hi, Sangy,” you shift closer to his side as they shut the door. “Nice to meet you…” you trail off and look at the guy who answered the door. You should know his name. Why don’t you remember? (You’d had Sangyeon give you a crash course over text last night, after you practically begged him to send you pictures with their names. But you didn’t remember seeing anyone with long, wavy black hair, so you realize the pictures must be old and practically useless.)

“Kevin!” He doesn’t seem to mind you not knowing. That eases the tightness in your chest. “You can put anything you got him over here on the table—” and with that, you’re dragged away from your friend, helplessly shooting him a wide-eyed look. “Or if it’s something we can’t see, in a closed room…”

The wiggle of his eyebrows offends you.

“Oh, god, no. He really is like my brother,” you laugh. “He found me crying over finals last year and took me under his wing.”

Kevin hums. “I knew he couldn’t pull!”

You let out a startled laugh before you can help yourself, and look over your shoulder to make sure Sangyeon didn’t hear. “Well, nice to meet you, Kevin,” you smile at him softly. “He wanted to introduce me so…” Kevin waves you away with a good-natured smile as you make your way back over to Sangyeon, where he’s talking to Hyunjae.

It stops you in your tracks. Yes, you knew they were friends, but it was different seeing him in front of you. (And that definitely wasn’t because you were shy, knowing you spent like ten minutes looking at the picture of him Sangyeon had sent, where he’s all bundled up in a winter coat and when you hold down on the live, you can hear him laughing, boyish and sweet. And it wasn’t because he was handsome either!)

It was just weird to see a senior your whole department practically adored in a more casual setting. And everyone said he never went out, so it was just like you’d spotted a rare creature.

That was all.

And, well, despite the rumors, Hyunjae didn’t look like he never went out. There’s a small necklace dangling on his neck and it leads your eyes down to a distressingly low V-neck, showing smooth planes of skin and muscle. His jeans fit him well, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up perfectly. It looked like he had his going-out outfit down to a T, and you feel your face burn when he looks up from his cup and waves you over.

You hoped he didn’t see your stare.

“Hi, Y/N, right?” He smiles at you and you nod, looking at Sangyeon curiously. “He talks about you a lot. Nice to meet you, I’m Hyunjae!”

“I know,” you squeak out, wincing at how high your voice pitches and the awkwardness of it. “I mean — well, I’m also in comms… everyone looks up to you, sunbae…”

He shakes his head. “Ah, don’t call me that. I feel old.”

You nod shyly, fidgeting with your fingers. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” his smile is warm and you relax slightly.

“Well, nice to meet you, Hyunjae,” you try out his name on your tongue. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” His brows raise. “Good things! A lot of people talk about how handsome you are…” You trail off, frowning and furrowing your brows. “Sorry, that was weird.”

Hyunjae laughs. “I don’t mind being called handsome. I think it’d be weirder if I did mind.”

Sangyeon comes back and you startle, not having realized he even left. He hands you a can of Milkis, and you realize it’s your favorite flavor. “Did you buy these for me?”

Sangyeon smiles. “I have to have something other than coffee for you when we hang out. C’mon, you’ve got to meet everyone else.”

After a dizzying round of introductions and some chatter, you all end up sitting in a deformed circle. Eric — a math major and comms minor, he’d told you just a bit before. It was curious how you’d never run into him before — wanted to play truth or dare, and you perch anxiously on the edge of the sofa, fiddling with a pillow’s cover.

It’s hard to keep up with the laughter and noise, eyes darting back and forth as jokes and teasing jabs fly over your head, clearly based upon years of friendship and memories. When you’re finally asked, it takes a second to register that it’s directed towards you. “Um…” you look at Sangyeon and then to the guy asking you, Sunwoo, whose eyes have a devilish glint that makes you nervous. “Truth?”

“Is that a question?” he asks and you shake your head. He sighs. “I got it! Who do you think is the hottest in the room?”

You frown. You have a feeling picking dare would’ve been the same question — but with the caveat you had to kiss them. Sangyeon hands you the soju shot wordlessly, seeing how you tense up. With one last glare at Sunwoo, you take it, shuddering and wincing at the burn.

Sangyeon gestures over at Jacob (you think it’s Jacob) and leans over to whisper a question for him into your ear. “Ask him if he actually asked his crush out for lunch like he said he would.” Your eyes widen but he urges you on.

“Jacob, truth or dare?”

He stares at you before picking truth, which everyone must have expected by the chorus of sighs that the group lets out. “Did you actually ask out your crush like you said you would?”

His face falls. “Hyung!” He whines. It is an unfair question, you realize belatedly. If he drinks, it’s a ‘no.’ If he answers, he’ll get grilled regardless of the response.

Sorry! You mouth at him. He smiles at you, then not your fault before downing the shot.

Sangyeon cackles next to you, pleased with his orchestration of events. The game crumbles for a bit as everyone turns on a now beet-red Jacob, sinking behind the pillow he’d been holding like it can hide the blush high on his cheekbones.

“It’s not that I didn’t ask her, I just—”

They seem used to his dodging though, with Juyeon going “like you didn’t accidentally run into her after her lectures for weeks?”

A chorus of rowdy laughter. He really waited for her lecture to end? That’s cute. “Okay, so, maybe I didn’t ask her yet. Someone else drink, I didn’t have to take a shot if you’re going to press anyway.” He whines.

Sangyeon takes the penalty with a grin.

The next person that has you in their sights is Changmin. “Truth or dare, Y/N?”

You feel like it’s risky, but you want to seem a little cool. At least, until they get to know you better. “Dare.” Changmin’s brows raise, pleased, and he whispers back and forth with Chanhee for a bit.

“Dare you to send a risky text to someone.”

You groan. “I don’t even have anyone to send a risky text to. I know like three people.”

Changmin grins. He looks a little evil and you wonder if he’s always like this. “You can send a risky text to a friend.”

You roll your eyes. “Can I send it to Sangyeon?” He’s ruled out quickly because he’s there and knows it’s not real. (Which sucks, because he wouldn’t care anyways. He knows you’re not into him and he’s not into you.) You could send it to Jimin, but you think she’d show up at your house, worried about you. And Ryujin was busy, you didn’t want to send her a weird text and confuse her when she has a big project coming up. “Give me the soju.”

They give you a bigger penalty glass and you look at the amount, a little worried. You weren’t huge on hard liquor (or any liquor, really. Only fruity cocktails were tolerable). But before you can steel your nerves, a hand brushes against yours and the glass is whisked away. Your head follows the movement before you can register what’s going on, and you watch Hyunjae down it smoothly.

His brows don’t even furrow, and he gives you a lazy smile, eyes sparkling with humor, as he sets it down on the table. “You know you owe me a favor for each one, right?” You nod. “Ask your question.”

There’s a round of cat calls and you squirm under the attention, asking Eric for a lame dare. You know his question for whoever he picks will take the eyes off you.

You turn to Hyunjae. “Why’d you take it?”

“You looked like you might throw up just from the idea of it,” he deadpans, and you frown. “Kidding. You just didn’t seem okay with it. I’ll take them if you don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He smiles. “You do owe me a favor each time.”

Your head bobs in a nod, eyes silently tracing his features. “What kind of favor?”

He shrugs. “I’ll figure something out. Nothing weird. I’m not a creep.”

You giggle. “I didn’t imply you were. You’re awfully defensive.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, and you watch a blush crawl slowly up the back of his neck. “This is what I get for being your knight in shining armor? The first time we’ve met and you already call me weird?”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “I didn’t call you anything.”

“You implied it,” he huffs, childish and petulant.

After a few more rounds of questions, you’re exhausted. Everyone is getting more drunk — and, somehow, louder, with the exception of Sunwoo, who crashed like twenty minutes ago onto Younghoon.

“Hey, Sangy, I think I’m gonna head out.” You whisper to your friend, drawing his attention from the new game of Jenga (where they got it from, you’re not sure).

“Okay. You think you can get home safe?”

“Mhm!” You chirp, smiling sleepily at him. “Happy birthday.”

You run into Hyunjae coming back out of one of the bedrooms. He’s changed clothes into a nice sweater, a little worn. It looks soft.

“Heading out?” You nod. “Hey, before you go—” his voice stops your hand on the doorknob. “You don't actually think I’m weird, do you?”

Snorting, you shake your head. “No. Definitely not.” You study him a little longer, the slightly parted lips and hopeful glint in his dark eyes. “Can I get your number..? For help with school, you know. Just in case I need a really cool sunbae to be my knight in shining armor again.”

Hyunjae grins. “You got it.”

You and Hyunjae don’t talk again after Sangyeon’s party.

Both of you were busy with exams and final projects, and, well, he never asked you for the favors you owed him. You thought you’d run back into him at some point and remind him then. It felt weird to text him out of the blue — the only message you’d sent being you saying, hi, this is Y/N! that you’d sent after the party so he could save your contact.

With a new quarter comes new classes, where you likely don’t know anyone in it and dread the inevitability of a group project with strangers.

When you walk into the classroom for your three p.m, you’re hesitant. You’d heard great things about the professor, and it was marked as a multicultural class focusing on world religions (an actual variety of religions, using texts written by scholars and actual practitioners. No long sections just discussing Christianity, which was exciting). But you didn’t know anyone there, and some of the seats were already taken fifteen minutes before it was meant to start. You didn’t want to just sit down next to someone you didn’t know, instead scanning for the emptiest section of the room before walking across the threshold.

You find an empty chair near the end of a row at the back, away from the dotting of people who’d already found their seats. It had a decent enough view of the podium and projector so you claim it, putting your bag down as you fold the pull-out desk over your knees.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You really try not to jump at the sudden noise, but the smile you see on Hyunjae’s face as you bolt up and turn around tells you that you failed. “Yeah— I mean, no. No. I don’t mind. You can…” you sigh and slap your cheeks, trying to slap some sense back into yourself. “Sorry. Yes, you can sit there.”

Hyunjae chuckles softly and sets his backpack on the ground. “How have you been, Y/N? It’s been a bit.”

It takes a bit for you to respond, focusing on lining up your pens how you want. “Um, okay… you know, same old. Just existing.” You don’t have any fun stories to regale him with. Really, you just studied, spent time with Jimin, Ryujin, or Sangyeon — or with classmates you had become kind-of acquaintances with in preparation for a hard exam. You liked to cook for yourself and your roommate, Lily, who was nice enough and easy to live with, so you did that too.

The only thing you could remember going to solo (for fun, not for school) even semi-recently had been a play the theater department was putting on, because you didn’t have the heart to tell one of the girls you sometimes studied with that you hated Shakespeare adaptations. (She had made the props and wanted to show them off.)

Hyunjae tilts his head. “Nothing for fun?”

“Not much.” You mumble, suddenly embarrassed. ”’m a homebody.”

There’s a clamor up front as a group of friends stumble in and try to find seats together. You sigh as you watch them, a little envious. “Nothing wrong with that.” Hyunjae chuckles. “Remember those favors you owe me?”

You sit up. “Yeah!”

“I know what I want.”

“Okay..?” you trail off curiously, turning your head to look at the sparkle in his eyes.

“You have to study with me and Eric. No backing out. All semester.” He grins at you like he didn’t just completely claim a huge part of your schedule as his own. Before you can even open your mouth to whine, he shakes his head and does a shushing motion. “You owe me like five favors. This will count for all of them.”

He jerks to attention as the professor comes in and you chew on your lip. Fine. He was smart, so it couldn’t be too bad. Maybe he could give you answers for classes that he’d already taken.

“Okay, well… I guess we need to figure out when and where we’ll meet, right?”

Hyunjae nods. “It’ll be fun.”

The three of you were free from four to six on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so that became your dedicated study time. The location? Wherever worked, in Eric’s own words.

That Thursday, the first time you all meet, you end up at a small square table in the corner of an on campus coffee shop connected to the library. It’s always super busy, which is how you find yourself crammed against the wall and struggling to even hear what’s being said.

Eric and Hyunjae are working on homework for some math class they’re both in. You wouldn’t be of any help, even if you were in the same class, so you quietly put due dates in your planner and start on a longer reading.

You don’t know exactly how long it takes you to get through half of the article and take notes, but when you take a break to straighten your posture because of the ache in your shoulders and lower back, you find yourself getting distracted by Hyunjae and Eric bickering about the best flavors of Pepero and Pocky.

Hyunjae is defending the honor of Pepero coated in white chocolate against Eric’s matcha green tea Pocky. Your eyes drift up to the snack stand where, sure enough, there is a box of classic Pocky right in your line of sight.

You figure that’s how they got to the topic.

“Ready to work on comms, guys?” You ask softly, brows raising as they get more heated. Eric coughs and Hyunjae gives you a sheepish smile, head bobbing in a small nod as he pulls back out his binder. (He keeps all his classes in the same multi-subject one, and, honestly, the folder sections are stuffed comically with papers. You wonder how he can even find what he needs in there, seeing as most of the pages are dog-eared and crumpled against each other.)

“Did you finish the reading you were doing?” Hyunjae asks as he tugs out his printed lecture notes. “We can wait.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on Buddhism when there’s a riveting debate about Pocky in front of me,” you drawl, a teasing smile playing across your lips. “I’ll finish it later.”

Eric takes the lead on the study session, and you’re trying your best to follow along. (Really, you are! It’s not your fault your coffee cup is empty. Well, actually, it is, but you don’t want to go get a third one for the day when it’s five p.m.) You’re a little distracted, though, when Eric delves into coerced admissions, their legality, and the confessions of innocent people.

It was a class on legal communications. But you were tired and confused, putting your head down on the table with a whine as the two men seemingly have no difficulty parsing the laws and imagined scenarios in front of them.

“Y/N—” Hyunjae’s voice, oddly close to you. And then, a hand on your thigh. “Want help?”

You nod and sit up straight, probably a bit too quickly, looking down at the worksheet in front of you. Hyunjae’s explaining it — you’re sure he is, from the way Eric is taking notes while he talks and Hyunjae drags his pen across the words and scribbles notes in the margins for you — but you don’t even hear the words. He’s so close to you, hand warm where it rests on your leg, and he smells really good.

Why does he smell so good?

And then, with a brief glance out of the corner of your eyes, you feel your breath being taken away. He’s gorgeous, with his hair falling gently into his brows and eyes, and your throat dries as he delicately flicks it away and furrows his brows.

He’s warm, even if his hand wasn’t on your thigh, like a heater in your personal space. Not that you mind.

“Got it?”

You nod dumbly. “Um, yeah. Got it! Thanks, Hyunjae.” You smile sweetly at him and his eyes crinkle as he smiles back before sliding back to where his stuff is. Suddenly, you’re cold.

“Hyung, can we please go get food—”

“We have thirty minutes left, Eric.”

“Please?” He drags out the ‘e’, whiny and endearing. “I’ll pay.”

Hyunjae laughs loudly. “I’m holding you to that. Y/N, you coming?”

You shake your head. You had dinner plans with Ryujin. And you think that’d be good for your sanity, to hear her talk about her dance classes. “Maybe next time.”

Hyunjae was a lot more social than you expected, given his reputation within the department. On top of your study sessions twice a week, he often texted you about homework (the one time you got a frantic text from him at one a.m. asking if you saw the essay requirements posted for religions, you felt your heart stop beating for a moment. If he was struggling, how were you going to survive?).

You weren’t necessarily close, but apparently he considered the two of you close enough that he invited you to parties sometimes as a way to get you out and meeting people (that was surprising too. You didn’t know he was into that scene, but you supposed his and Sangyeon’s friend group was big enough for everything to turn into a party).

It was sweet he didn’t want you to rot in your dorm all the time, though.

He’d sulk some when you turned down the invite, sending “so you hate me?” with a string of frowny faces and crying copypastas. If you disliked more than three, he’d stop whining and move on like nothing happened.

Tonight was different. You were more than tired of looking at homework, and everyone you knew was busy. So when Hyunjae messages around seven asking if you want to go to a party (“smaller, this time! just me and sangyeon’s friends. and some girls the other guys are into and their friends. some of them are in comms, and you know all of us…”)

You don’t tell him that’s still a lot of people. Instead, why should i?

please please please please please please please fills your screen. i’ll take you home the second you’re bored. You heart that message. Barely a second later, he’s calling you.

“Are you going to come? Please say yes. I’m not above begging.”

“I don’t know you like that, Hyunjae. Keep that to the bedroom,” you tease lightly. “I’m holding you to your promise to be my chauffeur though.”

You hear him sigh softly before laughing. “Okay, okay. But seriously, are you coming?”

You hum and look at a skirt hanging on a rack in your closet — Jimin got it for you when you went shopping last time after you eyed it for a bit. It still had the tag on since you’d never had an occasion to wear it. “I guess I could make an appearance.”

“Guess?” Hyunjae drawls, and you can practically hear the pout on his face. “Or know?”

“Pick me up and it’ll be a yes.”

“Deal.” He answers before you can even try to figure out plans. “See you in twenty.”

He showed up in exactly twenty minutes, and you were beyond grateful you hadn’t removed your makeup from the day yet. Your hair was still a little messy and you were fixing your eyeliner to be heavier when the doorbell rang.

At the house (you’re not even sure whose), Hyunjae grabs you a cocktail. You tilt your head at him curiously but accept it, wondering if the fact you’re not into other alcohol is written somewhere on your face.

After a few awkward introductions and fifteen minutes stuck to Hyunjae’s side like a leech, you start to relax a little. Maybe it’s the cocktail, perfectly sweet, or maybe it’s the way the party really does seem small and chill compared to most on campus. You’re not really sure, but it doesn’t matter anyways, as Sunwoo ropes you into a game of beer pong with a promise he’ll drink whatever cups you two lose.

He’s laughing, boyish and charming, as you sink a cup against Eric and tell him to “suck it!” when he tries to protest his fate. Sunwoo’s arms wrap around your shoulders, clinging onto you as he gets more and more drunk (outside of the game, not just the beer in the cups. Chanhee kept mysteriously appearing with KGB and shots of soju every so often and goading Sunwoo into drinking. You have a feeling he has an ulterior motive for the night).

You don’t mind, though, relaxing into his hold and cheering as the two of you defeat Eric (and a girl you think he might be into, from the way he smiles and comforts her. Unfortunately, you didn’t catch her name).

“We make a good team, Sunwoo,” you giggle softly, and you feel a little warm from the alcohol. He smiles back at you, face wrinkling up happily. You squish his cheek firmly until he yelps. “Do you wanna go find Sangyeon? I think he was setting up something.”

Sunwoo starts dragging you towards the living room before the words even finish leaving your mouth, both of you giggling as you stumble down the hall. “Guys—” he announces before you’re even across the threshold, tripping over the next words as he stumbles into the room. “This is my new game buddy, Y/N.”

You nod solemnly. “We have a pact.”

It takes only a second or two of unimpressed stares for you both to start laughing again, falling into open seats in front of one of the couches, right in front of Sangyeon and a girl from comms — you think her name is Hyeri. Sangyeon helps you balance on the way down, smiling fondly when you try to whisper that “Sunwoo’s fun!” to him.

“Is he?” Sangyeon asks, smoothing out your hair. You nod eagerly and he seems content that you’re having a good time. “Well, we’re going to watch a movie. That’s also fun.”

You nod, leaning into his knee as the group bickers and figures out what to play. You’re tired now, energy drained from the amount of people around you. The blanket that hangs by your side is interesting enough, and you find yourself picking at the fluffy fibers as the noise dies down enough for the movie to be audible.

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae, sitting by a girl named Soobin. You’ve had a class with her before, and a god-awful group project to boot. She was smart and nice, and you appreciated her being a voice of reason when your other members dragged their feet on every aspect of what was due. She’s looking at Hyunjae, too, you realize, looking at the way her expression softens as she shifts a little closer to him.

A ball forms in your stomach, brows furrowing as you take in the sight. Maybe the alcohol was getting to you and that’s why you felt something turning over in your stomach, but you’re not quite sure that’s the cause as she leans and whispers something — a joke, you assume, about the scene flickering across the TV — in his ear.

Hyunjae smiles, laughs, charming as ever and nods, leans over to whisper something back before turning his attention back to the glowing screen. Sangyeon’s hand on your shoulder snaps your focus away and you sigh, a little embarrassed.

“You okay, Y/N-ie?” He asks softly, and you tilt your head up to see his eyes, soft with concern. “You can go home if you want, I know you’re not huge on parties.”

Nodding, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat before croaking out. “Yeah, Hyunjae’s my ride. I’ll ask him when we take a break for snacks or something.”

He doesn’t seem content with your answer but nods, hand sliding off you. You appreciated the way he read your tense shoulders and backed off, reading your overstimulation and reducing it.

Sangyeon calls for a break maybe ten minutes later and whispers that you should go as he stands. You rise, eyes finding Soobin and Hyunjae again as you gather your things.

People are quiet, asleep or filtering into the kitchen to get snacks and drinks, and you hear her — soft spoken and easy to miss, but sweet as can be — ask if “he’d like to go out sometime?” and that she thinks they get along well. You pause in your tracks, and the way Hyunjae’s smile drops, expression cold and disinterested as he rejects her, with no ambiguity, has you feeling more sick than the drinks or seeing her lean on him earlier.

Soobin looks like she might cry, but she takes it with more grace than you think you could manage — a nod, a smile, and thanking him for being honest with his rejection.

When she walks off, Hyunjae’s eyes flit to you and he raises his brows. “What’s up?”

“Just ready to go home.” You mumble, hearing the ring of him saying there’s no chance, and I’m sorry if I made you think there was. I wish you well but don’t contact me again, if this is the intent in your ears. “Did you drink?”

Hyunjae shakes his head. “Want a ride?”

“Um…” you pause. “It’s fine, actually. You were liking the movie, right?” Hyunjae nods slowly. “I’ll get an Uber. Just wanted to say bye and make sure you knew I left — I didn’t want you to worry. I’m tired.”

Hyunjae smiles at you, the normal boyish grin that you’re used to seeing. “Okay, rest well, Y/N!” and, then, you make your way out, with a wave to Sunwoo and not one more look behind you.

A girl’s day was long overdue, so when your schedule aligns with Jimin’s and Ryujin’s for lunch, you’re dragged to a nearby Greek place that Jimin’s friend, Yizhuo, had mentioned. They were beyond excited that you didn’t back out of lunch (not that you had a tendency to do that. They just knew you had gone to a party and would be tired, hungover, or both and less willing to come because of that).

Once you’ve placed your orders, Ryujin squints at you from where she sits across the table. “How was the party?” The ‘you look tired’ is unsaid, but you don’t feel hurt. It’s true, you were tired, having tossed and turned trying to understand Hyunjae’s sudden switch up with Soobin when he seemed so receptive to her jokes and closeness. (When you did fall asleep, it was restless, and your head was throbbing now despite taking hangover cures.)

“Fine.” Your voice is softer than normal, and somehow wavers on just one word. Jimin’s eyes narrow as you fiddle with the corner of a napkin. “I made a friend.”

You’re talking about Sunwoo. Of course, you already knew him, but it felt nice to be closer to another person in the group. You don’t say more. (Mainly because you didn’t want to think about why you were so bothered by Hyunjae rejecting Soobin — you didn’t really know her, you weren’t privy to Hyunjae’s romantic life, understandably, and he wasn’t necessarily mean, just… too firm for your tastes).

“What’s bothering you then?” Ryujin asks pointedly, and you scowl at her. “Don’t frown at me! You’re sulking.”

With a long sigh, you shake your head. “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

Jimin pats your hand, an attempt at soothing contact without pressing too far into your space. “Babe, it’s bothering you. That’s not stupid.”

Damn her.

“It’s just — you all know Hyunjae. And how we’re friends? He took me to the party, which was really nice, and this girl — Soobin, she’s super pretty and sweet, I had a project with her last semester. They were flirting, or at least being close? I guess. All night. But when she did actually ask him out, he was suddenly super cold and it just… it was weird, you know? Not how he normally is.” You pause, a little embarrassed by your rambling. “I took an Uber home.”

Silence.

“He invited me.”

Then, a knowing ohh from Ryujin and a frown on Jimin’s face.

“You like him.” Jimin hums after a few more seconds of silence, taking a sip of her water like she didn’t just say something world-changing and earth-shattering. “And you’re worried he’d do that to you.”

“No?” Your voice is high and strained, stunned. You can’t even begin to track how she got to that conclusion, and you can’t believe she’s saying it so confidently either. “It’s just out of character for him!”

“You don’t know his character that well yet,” Ryujin cuts in, fighting back a smile. “We know you think he’s hot. Jimin told me about when you were studying in the math lab…”

You think your face might catch on fire with how hot it feels. “That doesn’t mean I like him!”

“Sure…” she laughs, and she’s so lucky you’re not at your apartment because she deserved a pillow to the face to wipe the smug smile off.

Jimin rescues you. “If you don’t like him, that’s fine. But would you be weirded out if… I don’t know, Younghoon did that to a girl?”

Shaking your head, you lean back against the chair and stretch. “But I don’t know him, really. I study with Hyunjae all the time, and I feel like I’m actually friends with him and Eric. Like, yes, it’s mainly based on school, but we’re close… for my standards. I guess it’s just weird because he seems so warm and bubbly that seeing such a quick and complete rejection was unusual.”

Ryujin hums. “Well, at least he didn’t lead her on?”

“Yeah, because making a girl almost cry is better!”

“It is…” Jimin says softly. “I mean, it’s not great, but it’s better than her getting more attached and him using her and keeping her around just for the attention.”

You hated when she was right.

She normally was. You think you’d be used to it by now, but you still sulk and pout at her clear and concise understanding of situations.

“I hate making friends,” you whine. “Can’t I just keep you two and Sangyeon, that’s it, forever?”

Both respond with variations on no quickly, and you pout more. “So you hate me. And you don’t want to be friends.” You’re being dramatic, but you have to be. It’s somewhere in your DNA.

“You’re stuck with us,” Jimin soothes. “But you like having friends, even if getting close is hard. You’ll be happier.” She pauses, thanks the waiter as they put down your food. “Besides, hot guys always have something wrong with them. This must be his — he’s an iron wall man.”

“What the hell is an iron wall man?” Ryujin asks through a mouthful, and you throw a napkin at her for it. She sticks her tongue out at you after she’s done chewing, but you know she’ll finish her next bites before talking again.

“Guys who put up clear and obvious walls and are super hard to get close to and have the attention of,” Jimin shrugs. “Seems like he gets a lot of attention but doesn’t want it. If he rejects girls like that, it stops.”

You sigh. “Hot men do always have something wrong with them.”

“Why do you sound like you’re in mourning?”

“I’m mourning the concept of a decent boyfriend,” you whine back without a moment of pause. “Is it too much to ask for a hot and normal guy?”

Ryujin nods. “Also, Hyunjae isn’t normal.”

“You don’t even know him!” You protest quickly.

“He’s friends with Sangyeon,” Jimin points out. “He has to be a little weird.”

You end up with Ryujin and Jimin at your place, setting up an honestly ridiculous amount of blankets on the couch and floor to watch the classic Barbie movies. The three of you had raided the nearby convenience store and set up your coffee table with snacks and drinks to last the whole marathon. (The convenience store was your favorite nearby. The woman who owned it loved you, and often gave a small bag of chips or some other snack, on the house even if you said she didn’t have to and shouldn’t. Sometimes, you brought her extra food from making dinner in a Tupperware as thanks).

After rifling through your skincare, you’d found face masks that suited all three of your needs (even if you did scold Jimin for saying her skin looked dull recently, since she was literally glowing). Ryujin had found nail polish you forgot you owned, buried at the bottom of the small closet in your bathroom. She’d triumphantly showed the forest green bottle and shoved it towards you. It was what your nails would have to end up as now.

You’re maybe halfway into Princess and the Pauper when your nails finally feel dry enough to do anything without the polish shifting or chipping, so you carefully make your way to your room.

Somewhere in your desk, you’d shoved a bunch of charms and trinkets you’d bought for the two and forgotten to give to them for months. It was one of your bigger flaws, being forgetful of small things like that. You’d gotten some for Sangyeon too, but remembered to add them to his birthday present.

Triumphantly, after five minutes of searching, you emerge and find them in their face masks. You snap a photo of them quickly despite the complaints that they “look awful!” and the threat that “if you post that, I’m blocking you.”

When you toss them at them, their threats and jokes soften.

“But I don’t have anything to give you…” Jimin pouts, spinning the cute black cat keychain around in her fingers as she investigates the details painted on. “I feel bad.”

“You two are always here for me.” You shrug. The silent reference to lunch goes unsaid — the ‘thank you for dealing with my whining, thank you for reassuring me, and for putting up with my codependency as I try to be more social and improve’. (Of course, it wasn’t just because of the gossiping about Hyunjae. It was that they, as much as they teased and joked, wanted the best for you and knew when to stop or change their approach.)

Ryujin finally looks up from the sticker sheets you gave her, muttering curses under her breath as she struggles to pick off the smallest ones to put on her phone case. “Love you, Y/N.”

It’s weird. She doesn’t say it often. A good weird, though, sparking a warmth in your chest. “I love you, too,” you grin, pulling out your phone and swiping to the camera app. “Can you say it again?”

“I’m not giving you evidence against me.”

(By this point, as Jimin excitedly puts on Barbie in the Twelve Dancing Princesses, you’d pretty much forgotten about the Hyunjae thing. Besides, it’s not like you’d ever been asked out or done anything with a guy —maybe his approach really was the best one to reject people you were into. You didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, ultimately, and you knew he’d still be your friend just as he was before the party.)

The temperature had dropped starkly in the past few weeks, taking with it the sun. By five-thirty, it’s dark out. You’re cold and tired, and honestly, grumpy. You’d stayed up until three. Most of that was sneaking out of the dance building at two a.m. with Ryujin after helping her for a few hours, just workshopping awkward parts of a routine she had to choreograph.

The other hour was spent getting ready for bed and scrolling through Instagram until your eyes couldn’t stay awake. No one could fault you for ending up in Hyunjae’s tagged photos — he didn’t post much anyways, and a lot of them had Sangyeon. And your other new friends too. It was only natural.

By the evening, you’re tired. But you didn’t want to leave Hyunjae hanging (Eric had some club meeting), so it’s just you two, working quietly in one of the study rooms in the library. It’s cozy, with lamps newly added this semester (and thank god they were, with the room feeling so dark, cold, and unwelcoming in semesters prior without any windows), and a nice warmth compared to the way wind bit your skin when you walked over to the library.

Warm light washes over your notes and you sigh, resting your head down on the table. Your hand hurts, and this professor required handwritten assignments. It’s intended to be a short break, but the way your chin nestles and your shoulders relax is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to get back to work, even after five minutes of silently staring at nothing. With a sigh, you shift to slump further in the chair and let your eyes drift to Hyunjae.

He’s studiously working on one of his classes — you’re not in it, and thankful for it. The printed letters on his assignment sheet alone hurt your head. His dark green sweater looks comfortable, a little large on him, and around the same color as the chipped nail polish that remains from your last girl’s night with Ryujin and Karina. His hair is darker than it was when you first met, with less sunlight adding warm blonde tones. It also seems curlier, but you’re not sure if your eyes are playing a trick on you, narrowing your focus on a stray strand that he keeps flicking out of his eyes.

“Why are you staring at me?” Hyunjae asks without a pause in his writing. “Is there something on my clothes?”

You shoot up and slam your knee into the underside of the table, whining in pain.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjae laughs softly, fondness taking over his gaze as he leans over and moves your drink from the edge towards the center. “That sounded painful.”

“It was,” you whine. “And I wasn’t staring.” The second part is weak. You don’t even believe yourself, eyes darting away from the way the golden lamplight shimmers in his eyes now that he’s turned to face you.

His hum is disapproving. “Liar.”

You shake your head stubbornly. “I wasn’t staring at you. It was your hair.”

“Which is part of me.” Hyunjae deadpans. “Why? Does it look weird?”

“No, just… is it curly now?”

Hyunjae tilts his head. “Yeah. My hair is naturally curly.”

“Huh.” It does suit him, you decide. Not that you’d tell him. “We, um, we should finish our work.”

While you say that, Hyunjae packs up his things haphazardly in his criminally organized binder. “You look exhausted, Y/N-ie. We can call it for the night.”

YN-ie. Sangyeon called you that. And it felt good coming from him, but the familiarity and softness of Hyunjae’s voice makes your stomach turn.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You mumble, looking at the small smile on his face. Did he see you how Sangyeon did?

It comes up again when you’re walking through street food stalls with Sangyeon.

You’re holding both of your dalgona by the wooden stick as he chats to the stall owner, picking out new flavors of jeon for you to try. Somehow, the conversation drifts to the man’s kids, and Sangyeon coos at the grainy film camera pictures in the man’s camera roll.

The fondness in both their voices is cute. How Sangyeon talks to you. How Hyunjae spoke to you in the study room.

“Hey, Y/N-ie, come on,” Sangyeon urges and you look up, accepting the rolled pancake in the small cardboard container. “What’s on your mind?”

You hum, skipping over the lines of the cobbled street, keeping count of how many you pass in eights. “Fondness.”

There’s so much of it around you. Families walking by, attempting to keep their little children in line as they scamper from sweet food stall to sweet food stall, amazed by the colors and smells of each dessert. Couples, hands locked together, wrapped in a small bubble of intimacy separating them from the throngs of people hustling and bustling by. Sangyeon, concerned about your silence.

“Are you a philosopher?”

“I try to be,” you smile softly. “Just thinking.”

“That’s what they do, isn’t it?” Sangyeon tears a piece of his jeon and hands it to you. “Think.”

“They also talk a lot.” You mumble before finishing the bite. “Ooh, what flavor is this?”

“Fondness,” Sangyeon laughs at his own joke and you scowl.

“How do you know when a guy thinks you’re like a sibling? Like you see me?”

He pauses and falters in his step before rematching his stride to yours. “Suddenly?”

“Not that suddenly.”

Sangyeon’s eyebrows raise. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Your turn to pause. With a frown, you shake your head and look away pointedly. “There isn’t one. I just want to know. You know I have no experience with any of that.”

“Keep walking.” He doesn’t even need to look at you to know, and that annoys you even more. With a huff, you catch up to him. “I can’t believe you like a guy. They grow up so fast.”

“I’ve been an adult since you met me.”

Sangyeon hums. “And you’re still a baby.”

“Can you at least answer my question?”

He ruffles your hair. “Well, you see, when a guy likes a girl—”

“Okay.” You sigh. “You’re not helpful, you know that? I’m going to keep this dalgona.” You wave his in front of his face, twirling it around. “Stop teasing me.”

“But it’s so fun, can you blame me, Y/N-ie?”

He takes pity on you, eventually.

“If he likes you, you’ll be able to tell. It might not be certain, but his behavior will change from how it was. If he views you like I do — a little sister, a little annoying—” he yelps as you smack his shoulder. “It’s true! And as I was saying, you’d know if he saw you like that.” Sangyeon snatches his dalgona from you. “The fondness you’re thinking about would be a little exasperated.”

“So you’re sick of me.”

“No, don’t put words in my mouth and hurt your own feelings,” he cuts you off quickly. “I love you very much. But you annoy me in many ways. None of them make me want to kiss you. A guy who really likes you would want to kiss you anyways.”

You hum. “So if I want to see if he’s into me?”

“Be more open about your feelings and ease up around him. If you hint at it, he’ll probably give himself away.”

You think you’ll take his advice, falling into contemplative silence as you snap the edges around the triangle stamp in your candy.

Ryujin had been antsy for weeks. Maybe even months.

You think her nerves paid off, if your shaky video of her performance drowned out by you cheering so loudly you can’t hear half the instrumental is anything to go by. Your throat is hoarse by the time you manage to slip backstage and jump to hug her, whisper-yelling that ‘I have flowers in my car for you!’ so she can hear you over the thrum of noise as staff and students prepare for the next set of performances.

When you spot Intak, her dance partner for the night, you compliment him too. He blushes shyly and bows, clearly delighted with the outcome of the night.

“Seriously, Ryu, I can’t believe you’re not famous,” you lament from where you’re cuddled into her side, clinging to her waist as you rest your chin on her shoulder. “Everyone should know you.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Then you’d have to be in line to be my number one fan.”

“I already fight Karina and your other friends for the spot,” you mumble. “I can handle a little more competition if it means you succeed.”

Her giggle is so comforting, pure joy and relief as she can finally stop worrying about this performance. She’d bitched about it enough that you felt like you were preparing to dance on stage with her (not that you could’ve held a candle to her or matched Intak’s skill level). She’d complained mostly about the fact it was a duet, scowling as she realized her grades weren’t dependent on her own performance and skill, but you were able to see the respect that she had for Intak.

He’d always been a good dancer and you’d known that — having seen him on a few other performing nights, and a few dance practices Ryujin snuck you into — but the way she spoke was different.

It was probably because they were done working together, and her frustration with the assignment stopped projecting onto him.

Intak lights up as the door creaks open and you look up, tilting your head curiously as Hyunjae comes into view under a, frankly, ridiculous amount of flowers.

“Did you buy out a florist?” You ask softly and he chuckles.

“It’s for both of them. They all have tags with letters from who they’re from. I got used as a pack mule.”

“Poor baby,” you coo sarcastically, a fond smile taking over your face despite your tone. You detach from Ryujin while she and Intak look through the bouquets, watching as the smile grows on their faces until both their eyes crinkle. They deserved it.

Intak perks up after reading a message and then, suddenly, “Y/N, you should come with us as Ryu’s plus one! We were going to have a celebratory dinner.”

You try to shake your head and back away, but Hyunjae’s hand behind your back keeps you from getting to the door. You glare at him before smiling at Intak. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m nervous around people I don’t know that well. I’m not that fun.”

“That’s okay, this is how you can get to know them!”

With the way he’s so eager and his eyes light up, something tells you he won’t take no for an answer. You begrudgingly nod, relaxing slightly as Hyunjae adds he’ll come and Ryujin mentions Jimin meeting you all at the restaurant they chose. Intak’s friends were apparently coming, too, so you mentally brace for the amount of conversation that will inevitably go on.

Most of the time you’re in the diner, you’re flattened to the booth chair and listening to the conversation around you. A lot of it is spent praising the performers of the hour, but as it dissolves into inside jokes, you feel more and more exhausted with trying to keep up.

Hyunjae feeds you a fry at one point, dipped sneakily in Ryujin’s milkshake. That’s a highlight of your night.

When everyone finally starts to scatter, Hyunjae walks you home. It was nice that he lived nearby, but he promised you (with his pinky and everything!) that he’d walk you home anyways, because a girl shouldn’t be walking home alone late at night, especially if she’s tired.

“Yeah, so, the project is going okay—” he’s talking about a math class. How there’s a group project in a math class, when there’s barely even numbers in the math he’s in is beyond you, but you nod anyway. “I think we’ll be able to turn it in early, which is nice. I’ll have time to do stuff.”

“It’s always nice to finish early,” you sigh, stretching your back. That booth had been stiff as a board. “I’d use it to hibernate.”

“You’re always hibernating,” he teases softly. “It’ll give me more time to talk to this girl before we go on a date, so that’s nice. I think we get along well. We’ll see.”

You perk up. “Date? I thought you didn’t like dating?”

Hyunjae laughs. “I never said that? I don’t do it often, but it’s nice to talk to a pretty girl.” You deflate a little, hoping he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t seem to, checking his phone before swiping away a notification with a small smile. “What gave you that idea?”

“Must’ve been the voices.” You hum, voice deceptively light. “They tell me things.”

“Weirdo.” Hyunjae chuckles, ruffling your hair.

“Meanie,” you poke your tongue out at him. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Mm.” Hyunjae smiles at you, obviously sleepy himself. “I’ll see you soon?”

“When do you not?”

Sangyeon figured you out. Somehow.

You almost choke on a noodle in your pho when he brings it up randomly during lunch.

“How long have you liked Hyunjae?”

It takes a second to breathe right and you hold your palm out to him, a silent plea for him to stop. “What are you talking about?”

He smiles at you and the sparkle in his eye sends a shiver down your spine. “Well, a little birdie told me that you thought Hyunjae didn’t date anyone… and when you pair that with you whining about wanting guys to not see you like I do…”

The thing he is implying with how he trails off is, honestly, offensive.

“I don’t like him like that?” You scoff, setting down your spoon and chopsticks. “I genuinely thought he didn’t date — I mean, we all saw how he shut down Soobin when we watched movies that one time.”

Sangyeon scoffs. “Who is we?”

You frown. “Me? And Sunwoo? And everyone else there?”

“No one was paying attention to them like that, Y/N-ie. I think you were jealous.”

With a huff, you grab your phone and check your schedule. You didn’t have any excuse to leave, but you could come up with one. “I have an assignment I forgot about…”

“Liar.” Sangyeon doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s okay if you like him. Even if you don’t. That one day — that fondness shit, where you were possessed by a philosopher. Was that about him?”

With a small sigh, you nod. “Yeah. I want to be seen as an equal and a friend. Not like a baby sister. How he treats all of his friends.”

“Well, then you’ve failed already. He’s extra nice to you.”

Your shoulders drop, rounding in. “Yeah. I’m the annoying kid sister type, huh?”

Sangyeon’s smile is weirdly knowing. “I don’t think it’s like that. But I mean, hey, he doesn’t hate you. That’s enough, isn’t it?” You nod. “Just don’t get your hopes up about dating him.”

“I don’t want to date him!” You grumble and he just laughs.

Asshole.

Hyunjae did, in fact, like you — like he did all his friends, not like a little sister.

You had gotten closer to him and his friends (Sangyeon’s friends, too), enough that you would occasionally go out with Kevin and Jacob or spend time chatting with Haknyeon on the phone. It was… overwhelming, to have gone from having a small circle to so many more.

But it was nice.

Hyunjae was nice, too, as finals crept closer. At study sessions, he’d buy your coffee (since you predictably got the same order every time) before you even arrived, and tell Eric to shut up if he laughed at it.

You even wore his hoodie a few nights, when the two of you were staying until the library closed. They were large and comfortable, and you had been tempted to keep them when you saw them in your room the next morning, still smelling of his cologne.

It took great effort to wash and return them, but you did it with a smile (and when Hyunjae said you didn’t have to wash them, you’d jokingly called him a creep for wanting to wear something you had worn without cleaning it. The wide-eyed, red-cheeked look he had after was priceless).

Even more nice was how much more often you talked. It felt like you had graduated from school friend to real friend, often seeing texts from random hours (one time, a heinous 4:52 a.m.) sending you memes and Tiktoks and whatever thought happened to cross his mind he thought you’d enjoy.

Apparently, you seemed like a girl who enjoyed the dad jokes he found and screenshotted from the depths of the internet, grainy and hard to read. You didn’t enjoy them. But you hearted each one he sent you and would take the fact you hated them to your grave.

The one that got your hopes up — that maybe, somehow, you are special to him, like Sangyeon implied, when he said Hyunjae was extra nice to you — was after a hard test you’d been dreading and complaining about.

Hyunjae showed up with your favorite coffee and a hug, letting you vent and complain, voice muffled into the fabric of his sweater. The embarrassment you felt seeing a hint of makeup on his shoulder was quickly squashed when he laughed and said “huh, a mini Y/N for my day. Score!” with a voice so light, you thought you misheard him.

“I’m sure you did great,” he whispers, more sincerely and sweetly, moving a stray hair away from and off your temples. “You’re really smart, you know that?”

“Not compared to you,” you mumble, chest still tight with anxiety.

“Yes, compared to me,” Hyunjae hums, grabbing your bag and walking you towards the dining hall. “In many ways I am not.”

It’s so real and you know he means it. “You don’t need to comfort me, I’m not a baby…”

“I want to.”

God, he was so sweet.

“Thank you,” your voice is soft and genuine, a little awed by his kindness.

“Don’t thank me for the bare minimum,” he scolds. “You should thank me for being really hot and sexy.”

You scoff. “Please shut up.”

And there was normal Hyunjae again, the you-specific extra kindness melting away.

It’s when you realize you don’t want anyone else getting that sweetness that you get that you realize you do, in fact, like Hyunjae. One could even say you have a crush.

You’re in a cute little black dress, makeup and hair done, wearing some jewelry that Ryujin just got you, and you’re tipsy.

Chanhee had been feeding you KGB and soju shots like he had to Sunwoo when the two of you were beer pong buddies and got close, and your face is warm, and everything is a little blurry and the world spins a little around you.

Or maybe the world is spinning around Hyunjae.

You think it should. He’s so stunning, and you spend some time looking at his dark curly hair — worn natural, for once, pretty where it lands on his brow, eyes sparkling and bright as he laughs and chats with the people he stands with. Even the way he holds the red solo cup is pretty, and you stare at the new bracelet on his wrist curiously — where did he get it? you wonder, but the thought vanishes as quickly as you had it when he smiles and waves at you.

You wave back, smiling too. And then your eyes drop to the rest of his outfit, and the amount of skin his shirt showing is, honestly, criminal. It’s like you took another shot, the way heat pours through you as you study the necklace that leads your eyes to his collarbones perfectly.

How planned. How scandalous.

Jimin finds you maybe ten minutes later, glued to your spot and swaying, staring at Hyunjae and the conversation across the room with big, wide eyes. “Babe, how much did you have?” She asks softly, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Dunno, ask Chanhee,” you mumble, words slurred as you smile at her.

She grabs your arm and you stumble, letting yourself be dragged outside. The night air is cold and welcome on your heated skin. “Stay here. I’ll find Ryujin and we’ll go back to yours, okay? No more drinks.”

You pout at her but nod, sitting down on the stair to the deck. The sky is pretty, stars twinkling overhead. It doesn’t take long before your eyes flutter shut, though, letting all the overwhelming things around you fade away.

It’s cold now that you’ve been outside for a few minutes, your dress too thin for respite, and your jacket draped on your chair back at home (because “I don’t need it, Ryu, I’ll be fine!”).

You jump when Hyunjae calls your name and settles next to you, but the warmth he radiates is comforting. His thigh rests against yours and even through his pants, it warms where you have goosebumps.

Shuddering, you tilt your head at him. “Hi.” Your voice is soft and small, a little giggle slipping out as you look at him.

“Hi,” he echoes, squinting. “Are you getting sick? You’re shivering.” The concern in his voice is cute, but you wish he was drunk enough to be staring at you like you hung the moon up next to the stars overhead.

You think you’re probably looking at him like that.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, smile playing on your lips for no reason. “I feel great, honestly.”

Hyunjae’s brows furrow. “How much did you have to drink?”

You hum, looking at your fingers as if they’ll tell you. “Chanhee gave them to me. So a lot, I think.” You wonder if Hyunjae even heard you from the silence that follows, but you just settle against him, leaning into his side. He’s big and firm next to you, and he blocks the wind, and god, he smells good.

But he stiffens how he never has before from your proximity.

Oh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, belatedly realizing you complimented his cologne out loud. Your hand slips off his leg — you’re not sure when it ended up there, honestly. “I’m out of it.”

“I know,” his voice is a little tense and your eyes sting suddenly. “I’ll call you an uber. You’re really drunk, Y/N-ie.”

It’s like someone poured ice water over you. “No, ‘s okay,” you can’t bear to look at him, suddenly terrified his eyes will be like they were when he rejected Soobin. “Jimin is getting me home.”

Hyunjae doesn’t move. But you don’t speak and neither does he.

The only goodbye you get is a small and stiff smile and a nod to Jimin as she loops your arm over her shoulder and brings you to the front.

For a week and a half, you manage to avoid Hyunjae and sulk.

It really does feel like the world is ending, having realized you have a crush on him and he, clearly, did not reciprocate. But he was your friend and you couldn’t avoid him forever, as much as it stung to see him while you were nursing your feelings.

Case in point, when he and Eric show up on your doorstep unannounced on a Tuesday.

“Why are you here?” You grumble, arms crossed. Thankfully, Lily was out so you wouldn’t have to worry about them disturbing her.

”To study,” Eric grins at you, boyish and charming. “You haven’t been coming! So we came to you.”

You sigh heavily. “Come on in, then.”

Honestly, you are a little miffed. But you’re touched, too, knowing they care and were worried enough to show up and pull you out of whatever sulky mood you were in. Hyunjae mouths ‘you okay?’ at you, so you know the main reason was concern if you were okay, not studying for the legal communications final.

But it’s perfectly fine, and Eric makes ramen (you’d have to buy more for your pantry, since using six packets for the three of you was, in your opinion, excessive).

Hyunjae doesn’t seem to remember the party. Or if he does, he has the decency to not embarrass you. You’re not sure which you’d prefer.

After that day and how awkward you felt, you stopped avoiding them and everything seemed… normal.

Studying, hang-outs with their friend group (yours, now, too you supposed), conversations that were just you and Hyunjae on the quad — studying, doom scrolling, eating, really whatever struck your fancy that day.

The most memorable one was an oddly warm day for the fact it was November, with the sun out and not behind clouds. The two of you were capitalizing on the small bit of warmth and vitamin D, lounging on a far too small towel and chatting.

Hyunjae was done with his work, so he was scrolling Tiktok while you lamented over the article you were reading. He had the answers too, having done this class the semester prior, but your pride refused his help.

Instead, he settled for resting with his head next to your knee, sprawled out as he watched (what you hoped were) animal videos. Your train of thought is interrupted when he shows you one — his screen blocking your vision of your messily annotated print-out and you focus instead on the pout on his face.

“Watch!”

So you do, giving the appropriate horrified gasp when the cat in the video (Waffle) smacked the dog of the house (Maple) for daring to lay down in its own bed.

“Isn’t it so mean?” Hyunjae laments as the video loops, and he mutes it quickly. “What did the poor doggie do?”

You hum. “Exist, probably. Cats are assholes.”

“Cute assholes,” Hyunjae nods sagely, the pout still stuck on his face. “Why are they like that?”

You chuckle, shoving your work to the side and stretching out slowly. “We let ‘em get away with it.”

“Who is we?”

“People who have them. And who are liked by their family dog.”

His offended gasp makes you chuckle. “Take that back!” Hyunjae whines, jostling your shoulder. “I am so nice to him.”

“And he still doesn’t like you…” you trail off, trying to hide your grin and failing. “It’s okay. Everyone has something wrong with them.”

Hyunjae shakes his head. “I’m perfect.”

“Add big ego to the cons list.”

Work forgotten, the two of you bantered and laughed until it got too cold to stay outside, and your heart was so fond and you were so into him. It was enough to be his friend, though, to bask in some of the light and love he had.

The weather is too cold for studying on the quad, and the library coffee shop is always packed to a level that is claustrophobic. Naturally, without any real discussion, the study group moved to Hyunjae (and Haknyeon)’s apartment.

It was a nice place, and you realize it’s where Sangyeon’s surprise birthday party was held. Hyunjae mentions another roommate, but apparently he doesn’t care if people are over and spends most of his time at his girlfriend’s place.

It’s how you find yourself, a week before winter break, stressed out of your mind as you sit cross legged on Hyunjae’s bed. Eric had left for some dinner plans a few hours ago and Haknyeon needed the living room.

Hyunjae’s room is nice, and shockingly clean. He has pictures of friends and family scattered about, a neutral and green color scheme, and an expensive looking gaming setup he now sits at while you work. He had finished all his work already, so you’re left struggling with your math homework alone.

Your eyes are tired and his comforter is soft. You don’t even remember falling asleep (it’s impressive you did, since he had been bickering with whoever he was playing with on the mic). When you wake up, it’s dark. Your homework and pens are scattered next to you and you hear Hyunjae humming along to soft music.

When a wet wipe touches your cheek, it wakes you up enough to look at him and try to sit up. “Sorry,” you mumble, staring at the makeup wipe in his hand curiously. You don’t think you want to know why he has them. His touch is gentle and soft, and he carefully wipes off your base makeup. “What time is it?”

Hyunjae smiles, booping your nose as he wipes off the last of your foundation. “One,” and then he’s quiet again, wiping away your eye makeup carefully, only speaking to tell you to open or close your eyes.

You sit up quickly and try to gather your things clumsily, crumpling the worksheet some as you do. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’ll head home.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjae soothes, one hand grabbing your shoulder as he holds you down. “Just stay for the night, I don’t feel okay letting you walk home at this hour.” He brushes your hair back and smiles again, and the flickering fondness and light in his eyes has your heart racing.

His proximity is nerve-wracking, and you wonder if he might kiss you, this close, this fucking pretty, smelling as good as he does. He doesn’t. “Are you hungry?”

You nod shyly.

“I’ll make something. You can pack your things but don’t you dare slip out and go home,” his tone is light but you know he means it so you agree and quietly gather your things while you hear movement in their kitchen.

He comes back a bit later with chapagetti, and your stomach rumbles at the sight. Once you’re finished eating, he hands you his unlocked laptop and says “pick any of the ghibli movies I have saved.” Then gone again, to do the dishes.

You settle on Princess Mononoke and really try not to stare while Hyunjae tugs off his shirt and changes into a different one. You fail miserably, burning the sight of his back muscles flexing and rippling into your brain. He gives you a toothbrush and you get ready quickly before awkwardly perching on the side of his bed, suddenly nervous when he’s dressed down and laying there.

It’s too domestic, for you to be friends and do this.

“I don’t bite. Come on.” He pats the bed and you quietly crawl in, holding your breath every time his hand or arm brushes against you as he settles the screen where you can both see it.

Light from the window wakes you in the morning. Somehow, you curled into him in your sleep, coming to with a steady heartbeat thrumming under your head and your limbs curling around him.

Fuck, you were screwed, heart skipping a beat from the proximity. You study the gentleness to his features, the fluttering of his eyelashes as the light shifts higher, and you know your time is limited.

But god, you wanted to stay like this.

Over winter break, you were practically always on a call with Hyunjae or texting. You feared how your phone bill was going to look, but the financial repercussions couldn’t tear you off — it wasn’t even that interesting, mostly silence or small jokes and conversations as you two went about your day, too far apart to spend it together.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world, heart fluttering any time he changed it to a facetime, or when he sent a picture of a snowman he made, saying it was you. (When you asked why it was you, he said it was because it was cute, as if it was obvious as the weather that that was the reason. You might’ve screenshotted it and saved it to a folder, simply titled with the blue heart emoji, which is just dedicated to Hyunjae. It’s filled with texts, facetime photos, and that one photo Sangyeon had sent you so many months back — the live photo of him in the snow, laughing. Who could blame you?)

Back in person, it feels like your dynamic has shifted. It's weird, a good weird, with you more on his side than Sangyeon, Ryujin, or Jimin’s — where the first person you think to tell news to is him, and vice versa, where he shares updates with you before anyone.

Part of you wonders if he likes you back, but you don’t dare press it or test the waters in case you lose his friendship. Selfishly, you liked him too much to picture a life without him in it and would have him any way you could get him.

Halfway through the first week of the next quarter, when everyone is back on campus, you all have a get together at Kevin’s. Initially, it was meant to be you helping him learn how to bake, but with everyone trying to make plans, it just became a drop-in and hangout.

You spend most of it in the kitchen with Kevin.

“Kev, oh my god,” you gasp, a little stunned. “That is so much sugar.”

“They’re meant to be sweet!”

“Yeah, but they’re not meant to use four cups of sugar…” the mountain of plain granulated sugar on top of the butter in the mixer hurts your heart. “Do we have more butter?”

Kevin pouts. “Yeah. Did I fuck up?”

“Not enough that we can’t fix it,”

Haknyeon pipes up from where he sits at the island, spinning on the bar stool. “Do not bring those cookies near me when they’re done.”

“I’ll force feed them to you,” Kevin scoffs grumpily, handing you two more sticks of butter per your request. “Shut up.” Haknyeon raises his hands in surrender but mouths ‘crazy’ to you once Kevin turns his back to him.

You snicker and help Kevin fix the dough, praying it will turn out alright despite his “measuring sucks” approach and the fear it instills in your heart.

Hyunjae shows up at some point — you think it might’ve been when Kevin asked if you had to hit ‘start’ for the oven to start preheating. In his own apartment. He’s quiet for the most part, chatting quietly with Younghoon and Changmin.

The first time he speaks up is when the cookies are finally baking and you have a break. “Hi, Y/N-ie,” you hear him croon and you make your way over, smiling at him. It’s tired but genuine, and he hugs you quickly. “Free?”

“For now,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “Who knew it was such a chore to bake?”

Hyunjae shrugs, keeping his hand by yours. The brush of his fingers on your wrist startles you slightly, and you look over to Sangyeon on the couch — he must feel your eyes on him, because he turns around and studies you two suspiciously. Your phone buzzes.

‘You two seem close’ is what you manage to read, eyes flicking back up in time to see Sangyeon wiggle his brows. You scowl and turn your attention back to Younghoon and Changmin’s stories until Kevin drags you away when the timer goes off.

They’re surprisingly tasty. A little bit bitter from a heavy-handed pour of vanilla extract, but you drizzle some melted chocolate over top and deem them “good enough!” for Kevin to call everyone who wanted some in.

Hyunjae doesn’t move so you go to him with a cookie, and he studies it carefully, hesitantly. “Are you poisoning me?”

“If anyone is, it’s Kevin,” you laugh. “And no. I tried them first. They’re pretty good.”

He scrunches up his nose. “I don’t believe you.”

“Damn. Got so close to killing you by cookie,” you play up a sigh. “Time for Plan E.”

“What were the other four?” Hyunjae laughs, and he takes a bite of the cookie anyways.

“Well, the cookie was Plan D but I’m too good at baking,” you giggle, leaning your head on top of his. “The others are secrets.”

“I’ll have to keep my guard up then.”It’s not until later you check your messages, and see one from Hak — Hyunjae hates cookies. What did you threaten to get him to eat one? — that you think he may like you back.

And, of course, you have to test your theory. Haknyeon’s theory. God’s?

It doesn’t matter, not really. Hyunjae has an exam early in the semester, and he’d been stressed about it for days (“It’s going to ruin my GPA! What if I can’t call myself an academic weapon anymore?” and then: “Hyung, you aren’t one anyways.” You never knew Eric was a liar).

You make a picnic basket that morning, and your face burns with heat when Lily asks you what it’s for. You stumble over a high-pitched “nothing!” and her laughter had been ringing in your head since.

Sandwiches, cookies (of course. This was Plan E — the E stood for ‘eating this means he likes me, because I want to think he does’), his favorite Milkis since you had gotten him hooked on them, and a bunch of cut up fruit.

He looks exhausted when he walks out of the building, sighing and eyes heavy. He does his best to match your energy when you run up, but he can’t. It’s alright.

“Hyunjae!” you smile, and he smiles back, bemused, looking at the basket. “I made lunch.”

Hyunjae’s smile becomes a genuine grin. “For lil’ ol’ me?”

“Yeah,” you hum, and walk slowly towards the willow tree on the quad, making sure he’s following you. “You had a hard exam. Why not?”

“You’re sweet,” Hyunjae chuckles, and you watch the way he stumbles over his own feet when he speeds up seeing that you set up a blanket too. “Can we watch movies?”

You sigh, knowing exactly what he’ll pick. “Get your laptop out.”

His giddiness is childish and adorable, and your heart races watching how at home he gets in your presence, how quickly he does so, as he pulls up Howl’s Moving Castle for what must be the thirtieth time.

He enjoys the food, and you quietly observe him — you’re sure it’s creepy, how your eyes dart around his face and watch him, but you will write it off as making sure he’s not too out of it from the all-nighter he did. If he asks.

And you do notice that he avoids the cookies.

“Jae?”

“Yeah?” He asks, after a startled pause. You wonder what caused it.

“Are the cookies any good? I tried a new recipe.”

He takes the bait, eating one. “They’re delicious.” He sounds genuine, but the way he tries to gulp water when you pointedly look away tells you everything you need to know.

Jimin was right. There is something wrong with every hot guy — how on earth could someone hate cookies?

“Don’t you hate cookies?”

He hums, looking up from where he’s pillowed his head on his sweatshirt. “Just—” he clears his throat. “Just bad ones.” The lie falls flat, and he knows it too.

“So mine are an exception?”

Without missing a beat — “always.”

Nothing really happens after that picnic.

You still think he’s one of the most beautiful people on the planet, so handsome your heart aches when you look at him. But you think you might end up moving on from your crush — not because you don’t want him, you do, but because you think he’ll never make a move. And you know you won’t.

But your resolve is destroyed at a pool party (one he convinced you to go to by begging on call for thirty minutes while you failed to make progress on an essay).

He’s shirtless. That alone is enough for your skin to feel hot when you look at him, but any thoughts of ‘do I actually have a crush or do I just like his attention?’ are dissolved when (and, yes, you do definitely have a crush on him still) you see him laughing and smiling when a girl named Dahyun talks to him.

He’s in the pool, hair curly and dripping water he keeps wiping away, and god, that makes his muscles flex. He looks beautiful in the golden hour light. You know Dahyun notices too, by the way her lashes flutter and she wades a little closer. It makes you feel sick.

Trying to distract yourself from the jealousy that twists and churns in your stomach, you go inside and raid the cooler for a shitty beer. It’s disgusting and cheap, but the alcohol is something else to focus on. You grab a second to hand Sunwoo, who had been setting up at the table next to yours.

“Damn,” he whistles playfully, a small smirk on his lips when you hand him the beer. “A pretty girl getting me a beer? I must be in heaven.”

“Maybe if you saved all your game for the girl you actually liked,” you laugh when he scowls at you. “But thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

It’s a silly bit that started a few parties back (you honestly don’t remember when), where you’d hype one another up. Juyeon had asked one time — you think he was concerned — if you actually had a crush on Sunwoo. You didn’t, but apparently it seemed real.

Which is why it was all the weirder when you feel a wet hand grab your shoulder. You glance up and sideways, trying to meet Hyunjae’s gaze. It’s trained on Sunwoo and he squints, frowns, before smiling at you and murmuring a quiet “hi.”

The air feels charged. Sunwoo shifts anxiously and eyes the two of you, and you think you see him sigh in relief when Eric calls him over for something.

“Hi, Jae,” you whisper softly, turning to fully face him. His expression is unreadable. “You okay? Headed out?”

Hyunjae shakes his head, and you flinch back at the small bit of water landing on you with a playful pout. “We’re gonna play Marco Polo. Wanna join?” It takes one glance at Dahyun, whose attention is still trained on Hyunjae, before you nod in agreement.

You hold onto his arm for balance as you pull off your cover up. “Let’s go,”

Hyunjae slips on the wet tile in his hurry to follow you, and you giggle at the shock on his face as he catches himself. The water is cold, but you dip under and get your hair wet to acclimate and twirl to face him, beaming.

“C’mon, Jae, we gotta win,”

Sunwoo and Changmin keep bringing you drinks in between rounds, and you definitely have a buzz by the time the sun has finished setting and the game fizzles out as people head home.

You’re shivering while you pack up your things, and your teeth chatter when you try to say something to Hyunjae — your ride this time.

He laughs and wraps your towel around you tightly, using the fabric to tug you towards him. He’s too strong for his own good, and the warmth of his bare chest against you has you speechless. “Want help drying your hair?”

You nod dumbly, and let him spin you to face away. Your back is against his chest, and you shiver again as he tugs the towel away again. You really hope he’ll think it’s from the wind, and not every nerve of yours lighting up as his back presses against you and he carefully towel dries your hair with a touch so gentle it feels practiced.

It’s quiet, with just the buzz of bugs and chatter somewhere inside to fill the air. It feels heavier and more intimate without noise, and you’re hyper aware of every brush of his hand or skin against yours.

“Jae?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

The toweling pauses. “Yeah?”

You don’t have the courage to ask him what you want, and you don’t want to lose the warmth of him behind you, basking in his attention and the buzz you have going. “Nothing,” you mumble, letting him spin you around to check if your hairline is dry enough. Your eyes flutter open when his hands pull away, and you know your gaze lingers on his lips for several beats too long.

Hyunjae puts up your towel, hands you your cover up, and smiles. “Homeward?”

“Homeward.”

‘help with hyunjae sos’ is what Haknyeon’s message reads when you look at it at eight p.m. on a Monday. You reply, simply, with ‘???’

‘he’s forcing me to do math :( make him stop.’ You react with haha, and head over to their apartment after gathering your homework — you figured you could study with Hyunjae and that’s what Haknyeon was getting at.

You don’t find Hyunjae chasing Haknyeon with a packet of his terrible math class homework. When Haknyeon answers the door alone, he says “in his room” before you can even ask the question.

Frowning, you make your way over and knock on his open door. He’s sitting at his desk, head in his hands, and he jumps at the sound. There’s tear stains on his cheeks and you can feel your heart break a little looking at how he’s curled in on himself.

And you feel like a shitty friend. You’ve always thought he had everything together and never really struggled, and you never questioned that perception. “Oh, Jae, sweetheart,” you coo softly, the pet name barely registering before it slips out. He welcomes your hug, melting into your arms with soft, broken sobs and shaky breaths as all he can get out.

You trail your fingers over his back and soothingly rub over the fabric of his t-shirt until his breathing slows and gets more normal. When you try to pull back, his fingers clutch at you and you stop in your tracks.

“Let’s work on it together, okay?” You offer softly. You know you’re not much help with math, but it’s at least something to offer it. Even if you end up just being a good distraction.

Hyunjae shakes his head. “‘M done. I… I can’t.”

“Okay,” you soothe, brushing a hand through his hair and tilting his head up so you can meet his eyes, glassy and tired. “Then let’s watch some movies. You get ready for bed, I’ll set it up.”

And he smiles for the first time since you got there.

By the time he feels better, it’s too late for you to get home, and he doesn’t need to say much to convince you to stay over (you like being near him, but this also doubles as making sure he’s truly and genuinely okay).

“Is it okay if I shower and use your shampoo and stuff?” You ask softly.

Hyunjae smiles. “Yeah. Here, you can have some clothes too.” He tosses sweats and a shirt and you pull at the fabric.

“I don’t know if it’ll fit, Jae,”

“It’s big on me. It’ll fit.”

He was right. Honestly, you look ridiculous in it, drowning in fabric. You should’ve expected that, considering how muscular he is.

When you finally begin drifting off, his arms are wrapped around your waist and his breath tickles the skin of your neck. It’s that way when you wake up, too, and it takes Herculean effort to climb out of his embrace (instead of remaining snuggled into him).

After waking up enough, you decide to start making breakfast for you, him, and Haknyeon — french toast, thank god they had ingredients in their fridge and pantry (Eric’s still haunts you). You make coffee as well, humming songs stuck in your head as you work.

The clink of a mug catches your attention, and then your mouth is dry.

Hyunjae. Shirtless. It takes a few seconds for you to even register that he’s showered, curls having droplets trail down his toned torso. You stare shamelessly at one that rolls down into his sweats, looking at the light that catches on his bare skin.

“Um,” you clear your throat and take a big sip of coffee, face on fire. “What classes do you have today?”

Hyunjae sighs softly, happily. “Just a senior seminar. My other one got cancelled.” If he noticed how pitchy and weird you sounded asking the question, he doesn’t say anything.

Haknyeon seems too tired to comment on the way you stare at Hyunjae all morning. Or maybe he’s grateful enough for the food that he chooses to be kind and keep his mouth shut.

It feels like it’s been years since you hung out with just Ryujin and Jimin. And with the somersaults your heart does every time you see Hyunjae, it was also far overdue. It takes well over an hour to explain your crush and every little thing you’ve read into (and hoped meant him liking you too), because you kept getting derailed and telling mini-stories.

Neither of them mind, though Ryujin does comment that she needed popcorn to get into your rant (honestly, you think it would’ve added to the experience if she had it).

“I’m… I don’t know, it just feels like I’m in limbo, you know?” You finally start wrapping it up. “I like him so much. But I’m terrified of ruining what we already have, and I don’t know how to read him. I can’t.”

Jimin nods. “There is something wrong with every hot man.”

“I know!” you whine. “You’ve said. He doesn’t like cookies. Surely he’s not afraid of commitment too.”

Ryujin snorts. “He could so be afraid of commitment.”

“Not helpful,” Jimin chides. Then, to you, “she’s joking.”

After being jabbed in the side, Ryujin sighs and nods. “I mean, it sounds like he likes you, yeah. Why else would he glare at Sunwoo?”

“Because he thought his friend was being weird and hitting on me?”

“And why would a friend care about that?” Jimin asks.

“Because he’s a good person?”

Ryujin groans. “Because he’s jealous. Girl, please open your eyes.”

You blink at her. “They’re open.” You can feel the cussing out she wants to give you bubbling up, so you quickly apologize. “Okay, I’m sorry. I just… do I go for it?”

“Yes.” and, then, “if you feel ready for it.”

Ryujin snatches your phone off the couch and you see her screen light up with a message from you: Y/N shared a contact: jae 💙🪻. “Thank me later,”

You watch her quickly type a text, and you feel your heart sink. “Ryujin!”

She grins. “Trust me.”

“What did you say? Seriously, this is so not cool.”

Jimin watches the two of you like a tennis match as you pick up a pillow and whack the other girl, chasing her around and around your living room until the two of you topple over, breathless. And she still refuses to tell you what she said.

But it gets defused and forgotten about by the time you all make Ghirardelli box brownies, eating them with a scoop of vanilla ice cream as you begin gossiping about their crushes and life updates.

By midnight, all the brownies are gone and you’re practically starving. You hadn’t refilled your pantry since Eric’s latest raid, so with several reassurances that “yes, I’ll be safe” and a resharing of your location with Ryujin and Jimin, you go to the nearby convenience store.

The one owned by the woman who loved you (and you, her).

You’re pondering what Selection ice cream to get for you and Lily to have in the freezer when you hear the door chime and running footsteps.

“Is it true?” Hyunjae asks, forgoing even a ‘hi.’ He’s breathless, sounding and looking almost frantic. His bag is half unzipped, clutched in his right hand. “Is it true?” He asks again, softly, hand grabbing your wrist.

“Is what true? Elaborate, Jae.” You zip up his bag and look at him curiously, watch his heaving chest as he catches his breath. “I thought you were studying in the library for another hour.”

“I was. I…” Hyunjae takes a moment. “Do you not know what Ryujin sent?”

Your heart skips a beat. “No, just that she texted you. She refused to let me see it.”

Hyunjae takes a deep breath and — his hands are shaking as he draws his phone out of his pocket. Your frown deepens, and you watch him unlock it and navigate to the two messages in the conversation.

‘Y/N has a crush on you, do something about it’ and ‘she’s at the convenience store a block away now, you can catch her if you hurry’.

You swallow, suddenly wanting to look anywhere but at him. But you can’t help it, can’t help yourself as you look at him and the softness to his lips and eyes, the sharpness of his bone structure, the delicacy of his features. Even the mole on his nose catches and hooks your attention.

You couldn’t say you didn’t have a crush on him. You did. God, you did. But it’s so hard to just say it. “Depends,” you chuckle, forcing bravado and a confident front. “What are you gonna do about it, if it is?”

Don’t reject me runs through your head like a prayer.

“Y/N,” Hyunjae says, eyes softening. His voice is equally soft, warm and gentle. There’s a desperation and rawness to it too, and your heart speeds up in anticipation despite your fears. “Is it true?”

You swallow. No turning back. A soft nod.

Hyunjae’s entire body relaxes. “Say it.”

“It’s true,” you whisper.

“Good,” he steps closer, and your pulse thrums with excitement as his hand slides up the back of your neck and his thumb rubs over your cheek, lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

His bag falls — and then his mouth is on yours, and his other hand holds your hip as he tugs you into him. His head tilts and matches your rhythm as if it was his own, as natural as breathing. The world spins as you lean into him, gently curling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He smells good, and he’s warm, and he’s soft, and he’s kind, and he’s kissing you until you have to pull back slightly, breathless. You leave your forehead against his, and you swear you could count stars in his eyes as he drinks in the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he whispers softly and you nod, “I like you too. So much.”

You initiate this time, softer and slower. He melts into you, weakens against you — sighing when you pull away as he quietly chases your lips for a beat longer before his eyes flutter open again.

His hand laces with yours, wordless. It’s like he can’t find them, mouth still slightly parted as he studies you — and you, him, admiring the red flush high on his cheekbones and the slight sheen on your lipgloss on his mouth.

“I think I’m done studying for the night,” is what he manages after a few minutes.

“Yeah?” It comes out as a small, amused huff.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “I have something much more important to do.”

“Care to share?”

Hyunjae blushes. “I have to ask the girl I like to be mine.”

— thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, consider replying, reblogging, sending an ask, or in some way telling me your fav parts!

#the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz fic #tbz fic #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #lee hyunjae x reader #hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae fluff #hyunjae fluff

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ofmdrecaps · 1 day ago

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01/24-31/2025 OFMD Recaps

TLDR; Happy Belated birthday to Guz Khan!; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neill; Vico Ortiz; Kristian Nairn; Ruibo Qian; Gypsy Taylor; Samba Schutte; Minnie Driver; Anapela Polata'ivao; Christopher Corbin; Vote for Jes Tom in the Queerties; Articles; In Person Events: Florida Super Con Guest Request; The Wee Con; Fan Spotlight: Our Flag Means Fanfiction: The Sprizzy Episode; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

Hey crew. I'm so very sorry. I have not been in a good headspace these past two weeks. Between my home life, and work, and everything going on here in the US, I have had to limit what I do in a day because I've been burning the candle at both ends and there hasn't been much left of me. Thank you to everyone who was sweet and sent me love, I promise i'll respond soon. I've had the next 3 recaps half done for days but just haven't been able to get up the strength to finish them, and I do apologize for that.

= Guz Khan's Birthday Jan 24th =

Happy very belated birthday to Guz Khan! Our dear Ivan!

= David Jenkins =

David shared this amazing animatic by our friend @aimeekitty! Wanna see it in action? visit Aimee's Bsky!

Source: David's Bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Issue #102 Part 2 of the Cryptid Factor went up on Patreon!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Patreon

For those of you on Rhys' Paid Substack, there's a new "Darby Files" up for 01/20-01/26!

Also on Rhys' Substack is footage of the Sundance Film festival where he went to see the film Buttons' produced - "Prime Minister!" You can check out the BTS from it on his paid substack!

Source: Rhys Darby's Substack

More shots from his trip with Buttons!

Source: Rhys' Tiktok

= Con O'Neill =

More trailers for Con's show SAS Rogue Heroes are out!

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A post shared by BBC iPlayer (@bbciplayer)

instagram

Source: SAS Rogue Heroes IG

= Vico Ortiz =

So many new Podcast episodes of Today In Gay! Your daily dose of Queer News! Check Vico out on the Substack! (Sorry for the reverse image to links, I was combining pictures to make space!)

Jan 24

Jan 27

Jan 28

Jan 29

Jan 30

Jan 31

Source: Today In Gay Substack

= Kristian Nairn =

Kristian attended MegaCon London with his new hair style-- and got to chat with lots of fans!

Source: Adrianna Dagmara's IG

Kristian also shared this beautiful memory of Ofmd with us! "Just found this while packing up ! Wee John wore a really lovely pin cushion on his wrist in S2, and this was one of the spare little guys who encircled it. Thanks @gypsytaylor , I miss you guys down there"

Source: Kristian's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

More beautiful music from our beloved Pirate Queen.

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram

= Gypsy Taylor =

Gypsy's been all over lately!

"Holding space with the Siegfried to my Roy @c_hristian 🐅 @sydney_festival Siegfried and Roy the Opera! CAMP! 🐅 so many fun sparkly costumes by @xtcostume and that TIGER!!! A very good cat.. gorgeous @erthaustralia 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 well done team little Bavaria 🇧🇪"

Source: Gypsy's IG

= Minnie Driver =

Minnie's chatting about her podcast! Wanna check out this episode? Visit her spotify!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Min. (@driverminnie)

instagram

Source: Minnie's Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

Samba's new baking class has been announced! Tickets go on sale in April, but you can sign up to be notified once they're available at the link below!

Source: Momentus.US

Episode 4 of Parallel is out on amazon prime!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Seasick Studios (@seasickstudios_)

instagram

Source: SeasickStudios

= Anapela Polata'ivao =

You can now purchase tickets to see Tinā if you live in Aotearoa! Visit https://www.madman.co.nz/tina/ for more info and dates!

Source: Tinā Instagram

= Christopher Corbin =

Our wonderful "We could have made magic" man got a new haircut! Always so glad to see his bright smile.

Source: Christopher's IG

== Queerties ==

Thank you to @adoptourcrew for notifying us that you can vote every day for Jes Tom, one of our dear writers in the Queerties! Head on over there to support them!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Instagram

== Articles ==

Thank you as always to our dear friends over at @adoptourcrew for keeping us up to date on all the new articles and interviews of our cast & crew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

Source: Adopt Our Crew IG

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bluesky

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== In Person Events ==

= Florida Super Con Guest Requests! =

Our friend Irene Adler and several other crew members have asked for some help in requesting guests for Florida SuperCon! You can request over and over and it'd be great if we could try to get some of our cast & crew invited!

Source: Irene Adler's Instagram

= The Wee Con! =

There's a fabulous new convention happening 31 Oct - 2nd Nov in Edinburgh Scotland! You can purchase tickets now on their kickstarter!

Source: TheWeeCon's Tumblr

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

OFMFF had their sprizzy episode for Sprizzy week!

Source: OFMFF Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies, I have been constantly thinking of you all the past two weeks. I am trying to keep my spirits up and share things when I can. I hope you know that no matter what, you are perfect the way you are, and that the actions of a certain US president don't define you. AT ALL. Please remember that what's going on in the US is a dying breed trying desperately to gain back the control they lost with progress, and so many of you are doing so much to prevent it. You're doing all you can. Remember to rest, people are still fighting even when you rest. I know it feels so hard right now, but please don't give up okay? Love you crew, since I'm so behind I'll be doing some shorter love notes til I catch up again.

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A post shared by @thelatestkate

instagram

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @thelatestkate

instagram

Source: The Latest Kate's Instagram

Source: The Latest Kate's Bsky

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Today's gifs are brought you by the lovely @ofmd-ann, and @raggedy-spaceman and the current theme is how I'm feeling about the state of the US government.

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drdemonprince · 2 days ago

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Hi Devon, I sent you an ask ages ago which you were kind enough to acknowledge about how I was raised in a child sex ring and had formed really loving and healing relationships with men thanks to my dad and brothers.

I just wanted to say I loved your Substack piece. That first bit from the anon talking about feeling like vanilla sex is referred to as “less than” really got to me also as obviously a survivor of pretty horrific and extended sexual assault. I have always felt great shame around wanting sex at all, but when I do I guess it could be labeled as vanilla but pretty revolutionary feeling for me since it was programmed into me to be such as awful thing.

I also exist in a kink friendly circle of people and sharing experiences with them sometimes makes me feel dull. I appreciated your take on it, and also the response from my kinky friends.

I think there’s often a hesitation to talk about those things at the “top of the staircase” in front of me. Which is considerate of them. But also feeling and being sexually liberated means all of us being open, kind and respectful of each other.

I don’t think I’ll ever take many steps up that staircase. I’m often not even on it. But that’s ok. It was super empowering and awesome just to read people’s takes on it all and how people are finding ways to empower themselves even if it’s all different.

Thanks for the article :)

Awww thank you so much for being here. Fuck the staircase. The whole point is to do what actually feels good to you, whatever that is. It doesn't make you dull or normie, and I bet that plenty of your friends find hearing your sex stories hot as fuck and are so so happy for you besides.

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realsgwife · 2 days ago

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Day 2 - Brian and friends

As the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, we lay in a tangled heap of limbs, our breaths slowing to match the quiet of the city outside. The weight of my actions pressed down on me, but I refused to let it ruin this moment. Instead, I basked in the glow of our shared secret, the thrill of the unknown and the excitement of what was to come in the next two nights.

We slept through most of the day, our bodies sated and exhausted from the night's activities. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional car horn outside lulled us into a deep, uninterrupted slumber. When we finally awoke, the sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the room that bathed us in a warm embrace. We were strangers in a strange land, bound together by our shared passion and the thrill of the illicit.

Brian rolled over, his eyes heavy with satisfaction as they met mine. He reached out a hand, tracing a lazy line down my side, his touch setting my skin alight with anticipation. "We should get dressed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I have a surprise for you tonight."

I nodded, a coy smile playing on my lips. He had instructed me to pack an outfit that would make me look like an office lady from the app, and as I slipped into the crisp, white blouse and tailored skirt, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. The fabric was smooth against my skin, the skirt just short enough to be considered risky in the corporate world. The sensible heels I had brought with me completed the look, making me feel powerful and alluring in a way I hadn't in years.

The club was a throbbing, pulsing heart in the middle of the city. The bass from the speakers vibrated through the floor, up through the soles of my shoes, and into my very bones. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and lust. The lights flashed and danced around us, painting the dancers in a kaleidoscope of colors as they moved in a hypnotic rhythm.

Brian had chosen the place, a swanky, upscale club that catered to the desires of men like him and his friends. The crowd was a mix of locals and expatriates, all looking to let loose and indulge in the pleasures of the night. I felt a thrill as we walked in, my heart racing faster than the music that surrounded us. This was not my usual scene, but the excitement of the unknown made me feel alive.

Dick, Andy, and Henry greeted us with knowing smiles, their eyes lingering on my attire. The dress code was strict, but the way my skirt hugged my curves and the blouse hinted at the lace lingerie beneath had clearly passed the test. They were dressed to the nines, each one exuding a different kind of charm. Dick's eyes roved over me, his hunger for conquest unabated by the company of his friends.

Andy, the tall, handsome family man, offered a nod, his gaze lingering just a moment too long on my exposed cleavage. His handshake was firm, a silent acknowledgment of the secret we now shared. Henry, ever the player, leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You look absolutely delicious tonight, Sally," he whispered, his eyes scanning me like a predator sizing up its prey.

Beneath my clothes, I wore a lacy bra and panty set, a stark contrast to the businesslike attire of the day. The material was sheer, hinting at the treasures beneath, and as the music grew louder, the fabric seemed to grow more transparent, revealing the darkened peaks of my nipples and the dampness of my arousal. The thought of the men's eyes on me, knowing the scandalous secrets I kept hidden, sent a thrill through me that was almost too much to handle.

The club was a maze of velvet-covered booths and gleaming chrome bars, the dance floor a sea of writhing bodies. Brian led me through the throng, his hand possessive on my lower back, until we reached a VIP section. The bouncer nodded in recognition, and the velvet rope parted to allow us entry. Inside, the air was cooler, the lights dimmer, and the music a seductive murmur that promised unspoken delights.

The booths were filled with groups of men and women, their laughter and whispers carrying an undercurrent of desire. Our friends had reserved a table for us, a bottle of champagne chilling on ice. The bubbles danced in the flutes as they were filled, a toast to the night ahead.

Dick couldn't take his eyes off me, his gaze a caress that made me squirm. "You look… incredible," he said, his voice thick with lust. I felt a flash of satisfaction knowing that I had the power to stir such strong emotions in these men. The vibrations from earlier had left my body sensitive and eager, and the thought of what might come next had my heart racing.

Andy took a seat beside me, his leg brushing against mine. He was all business during the day, but here in the shadows of the club, I could see the man behind the mask, the one who craved excitement and release. His hand found my thigh, his thumb stroking a line of fire through the fabric of my skirt. The vibrations started again, a gentle reminder that the night was far from over.

Brian leaned in, whispering in my ear, his breath warm and heavy with the scent of whiskey. "Remember, Sally," he said, his eyes glinting with excitement, "tonight, you're the innocent MILF I picked up. Play along, and I promise you'll enjoy the show." I took a deep breath, letting the vibrations build within me as I nodded in agreement. The thrill of the role-play was intoxicating, the heady mix of guilt and desire swirling like the champagne in my glass.

As the night progressed, I slipped deeper into my role, batting my eyes and giggling coyly at the suggestive comments thrown my way. The men around us were like sharks in a feeding frenzy, drawn to the scent of my availability. The vibrations grew stronger, syncing with the pulse of the music, making it increasingly difficult to maintain my facade of innocence.

After a particularly energetic dance, I plopped down onto the velveteen couch in our VIP booth, my legs splayed in an unladylike fashion. The fabric of my skirt had ridden up, exposing the tops of my thighs and the dampness that had formed there. Sweat glistened on my skin, making the fabric of my blouse cling to my breasts. The coolness of the air-conditioning was a welcome reprieve as it kissed my flushed cheeks.

Brian sauntered over, a predatory smile playing on his lips as he took a seat beside me. His hand found its way under the table, sliding up my thigh with a confidence that made my heart race. He leaned in, his breath hot and minty as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear. His fingertips grazed the edge of my bra, and without missing a beat, he slipped his hand inside, cupping my breast. The vibrations from earlier had made my nipples painfully sensitive, and the sudden pressure had me gasping, my eyes going wide with shock and pleasure.

The room swirled around me as he began to play with my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger with a gentle yet firm touch. The sensation was exquisite, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core. I clutched my glass, the chill of the condensation a stark contrast to the heat building within me. His friends were deep in their own conversations, their drinks held casually as they chatted and laughed, oblivious to the erotic dance unfolding beside them.

The next thing I knew, Dick was sitting beside me, his hand sliding over my knee, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my bare skin. I glanced at him, my heart racing as I felt his eyes on me, hungry and full of intent. The vibrations grew stronger, a silent symphony playing in harmony with my own building arousal. I couldn't help the small moan that escaped my lips as he leaned in closer, his hand sliding up my thigh, his thumb grazing the edge of my panties.

Brian and Dick exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles wicked and full of mischief. They were playing a game, a silent competition for my attention, and I found myself reveling in the power I held over them. Dick leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across my neck, making my skin tingle. His hand moved higher, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh just beneath my skirt.

Andy's hand joined the fray, his touch more tentative than the others. He was the married one, the one who knew the cost of infidelity. Yet, the allure of the forbidden fruit was too tempting to resist. His eyes searched mine for permission, and I gave it with a small nod, my own hand moving to rest on his thigh, feeling the muscles tighten beneath my touch.

Suddenly, Brian's hand squeezed my thigh, his eyes meeting mine. He nodded towards the exit, his signal clear. It was time to leave the club, to move to the next stage of our rendezvous. The excitement was palpable as we made our way through the throngs of dancers, the vibrations a constant reminder of the evening's promise.

The night air was a welcome caress against my flushed skin as we stepped into the coolness outside. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling within me. The vibrations grew more insistent, a silent siren's song that urged us toward the car waiting at the curb.

Brian's hand was firm in mine as we walked away from the club, the vibrations from the panties a constant reminder of the thrilling world we had entered. The ride to the Airbnb villa was tense with anticipation, the occasional glance between us speaking volumes. His thumb stroked the back of my hand, sending shivers up my spine.

When we arrived, the villa was a serene oasis, hidden behind a high wall adorned with lush foliage. The gates swung open to reveal a modern, two-story building with a private pool shimmering under the moonlight. The sight of the jacuzzi bubbling away, surrounded by candles and rose petals, made my knees wobble. This was no ordinary hotel room; it was a love nest, a secret garden where we could indulge in our illicit desires.

Brian led me upstairs, the vibrations from the panties reaching a crescendo with every step. His eyes were dark with hunger, his touch demanding. I felt like prey caught in the sights of a predator, and yet, I had never felt more alive. The bedroom was bathed in soft light, the scent of vanilla and sandalwood filling the air. The bed was a cloud of silk and velvet, the perfect stage for the passion play about to unfold.

He didn't waste a moment, pulling me into his arms and crushing his lips to mine. His hands were everywhere, exploring and claiming every inch of me. The vibrations grew stronger, setting my nerves alight. I moaned into his mouth, my body responding instinctively to the sensations. His hand slipped between my legs, his fingers sliding into my wetness, the vibrations from the panties heightening every touch.

He picked me up, carrying me to the bed with an ease that spoke of his desire. The mattress dipped beneath us, and he laid me down, his body hovering over mine. The vibrations grew erratic, a wild rhythm that mirrored the beating of my heart. I arched up, my hips meeting his, my legs wrapping around his waist. The anticipation was unbearable, a sweet agony that had me panting and writhing beneath him.

Brian reached between us, his fingers finding the clasp of the panties. With a quick flick, he released the device, the sudden absence of the vibrations leaving my body feeling empty and needy. His eyes never left mine as he slid the fabric aside, his erection pressing against my wetness. He entered me in one smooth stroke, filling me completely.

The feeling was overwhelming, the vibrations forgotten as we moved together, our bodies a tapestry of passion and lust. The sound of our skin slapping against each other was a symphony in the quiet room, punctuated only by our gasps and moans. The guilt of my infidelity washed over me in waves, but the pleasure was too intense, too consuming, to allow it to take hold.

Dick and Henry watched from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with lust. I reached out a hand, beckoning them closer, and they didn't need to be asked twice. Dick's mouth found my breast, his teeth grazing my nipple, while Henry's hands roamed my thighs, inching closer to the heat between my legs.

Andy hung back, his eyes dark with need but his conscience a silent sentinel. I saw the battle playing out on his face, the desire warring with the fear of being caught. But the atmosphere was too potent, the thrill too great, and soon he too gave in, his hand sliding into my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck.

Brian's rhythm grew more frantic, his eyes never leaving mine as the other two men touched and kissed me. The weight of their hands on my body was a delicious torment, heightening the sensations of Brian's thrusts. Dick's mouth moved down my body, his tongue tracing a wet line from my navel to my inner thigh.

I gasped as Henry's fingers slid into my wetness, the sensation of being touched by so many hands overwhelming. The room spun as I felt myself climbing towards the peak, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me. The vibrations from the panties had been replaced by the very real and very potent touch of three men who desired me, and the intensity was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

Brian had asked me to give more attention to Dick, to make sure he felt included in our erotic dance. I knew it was his way of ensuring no one felt left out, that everyone had a piece of me to claim. And so, as Dick's mouth moved closer to my throbbing clit, I reached out for him, my hand finding the back of his head, guiding him to where I needed him most. His tongue was clumsy at first, but eager, and as I moaned and arched my hips, he grew more confident, his movements becoming more sure.

Andy watched with a mix of envy and lust, his hand still in my hair, his other hand stroking my cheek. I turned my head to meet his gaze, my eyes pleading for his touch, and he didn't disappoint. His hand slid down my body, his fingers finding my other breast, pinching the nipple gently, sending waves of pleasure through me that only added to the maelstrom building between my legs.

But the moment was shattered when Dick spoke up, his voice thick with desire. "Guys," he said, his breath hot against my skin, "I think we should each have her alone first. Get a taste before we share the main course."

The room grew quiet, the only sound the faint sizzle of candle wax and the steady rhythm of our breathing. The suggestion hung in the air, charged with erotic tension. After a beat, Henry chuckled, the sound dark and low. "I like the way you think," he said, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

Brian pulled out a pack of cards from the nightstand, shuffling them with a deft hand. "We'll draw lots," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. "To decide the order." He handed each of us a card, and we took a moment to let the anticipation build, the knowledge of what was to come a heady cocktail that had my body thrumming with need.

The air grew thick as we revealed our cards, the tension in the room palpable. Dick's eyes gleamed as he saw his card, the number three. "Looks like I'm up first," he said, his voice low and full of promise. I felt a shiver of excitement run through me at the thought of what was to come.

He took my hand and led me down the hallway, the soft carpet beneath our feet muffling any sound. The bedroom was a mirror image of the first, but the scent of his cologne filled the space, making it feel distinctly his. The bed was massive, the dark wood frame a stark contrast to the pristine white sheets.

Dick's gaze was intense as he closed the door behind us, his eyes never leaving mine. He took a step closer, his body heat radiating like a furnace. His hand slid up my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "I've been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice low and gruff with desire. His other hand found my waist, pulling me into his embrace. His kiss was rough, demanding, as if he were trying to claim every part of me with his lips alone.

He pushed me back onto the bed, the mattress giving way beneath my weight. His body followed, his weight pressing me into the softness. His hands were everywhere, unbuttoning my blouse with a deftness that spoke of experience. The fabric whispered as it parted, revealing my lacy bra and the swollen mounds beneath. He groaned, his eyes raking over me with a hunger that was almost feral.

Dick's mouth found my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core. His hands moved to my breasts, cupping them, kneading them, his thumbs flicking my now-sensitive nipples. I gasped, my body arching up to meet him, the anticipation building. His mouth followed the trail of kisses, moving down to capture a nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive peak, sending waves of pleasure through me.

With trembling hands, I unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes were glued to me, watching every move as if he were unwrapping the most exquisite gift. I stepped out of it, standing before him in nothing but my heels and the dampened panties. His gaze was intense, his pupils dilated with lust. The vibrations from earlier had made my skin hyper-sensitive, and the cool air of the room made me shiver.

I reached behind me to unclasp my bra, the straps slipping down my arms with a whisper of fabric. My breasts fell free, the nipples hard and eager, begging for his touch. He took a sharp breath as I let the lacy garment drop to the floor, his eyes devouring every inch of my exposed flesh.

Slowly, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the panties, the vibrations still a faint memory of the earlier excitement. I slid them down my legs, revealing my shaven mound and the slickness of my arousal. His eyes grew darker, his desire palpable in the air around us. I stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but my heels, feeling both vulnerable and powerful in the face of his hungry gaze.

Dick's eyes roved over me, his breath coming in shallow pants. He reached for me, his hands warm and sure as he guided me back to the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat down, his eyes never leaving my body. His hand slid up my thigh, his thumb grazing my center, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through me. I bit my lip, my body begging for more.

He leaned back, his eyes boring into me as he slowly unbuckled his belt. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room, echoing through the air. He pulled it free, the leather snapping as it slapped against his thigh. His pants followed, revealing the bulge of his erection straining against his boxers. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid them down, his cock springing free.

It was the first time I had seen him fully aroused, and the sight was intoxicating. He was not as large as Brian, but there was a certain… compactness to him that spoke of power. I felt a fresh surge of desire, my own need for release growing more urgent with every passing second.

Dick stood up, his cock bobbing in front of me, and took my hand, placing it around his girth. It felt hot and heavy in my grasp, pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat. His eyes never left mine as he guided my hand, showing me how he liked to be touched. The intimacy of the gesture had me trembling with excitement, the thrill of doing something so illicit with a man who was not my husband a heady rush.

As I stroked him, he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You're so wet for me, Sally," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His hand slid down my body, his fingers slipping into my wetness. He began to explore my folds, his touch gentle at first, but growing more insistent with every stroke.

I gasped as he found my clit, his fingers working in time with my own strokes on his cock. The pleasure was intense, a maelstrom of sensation that had me teetering on the edge of climax. The room spun as he leaned over, his mouth claiming my other breast, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

With a growl, he pushed my hand away, his cock standing proud and slick with my arousal. He positioned himself at my entrance, the tip nudging against my swollen folds. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching my face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was wanton need reflected in my gaze.

With a deep thrust, he filled me, the sensation of his girth stretching me open making me cry out. He began to move, his hips pistoning into me, the sound of our flesh slapping together echoing in the quiet room. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, my nails digging into his back as he took me over the edge of pleasure.

Dick's rhythm was punishing, his movements driven by his own desperate need. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face a mask of concentration as he claimed me, his teeth bared in a silent snarl. I could feel him growing closer, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breaths more ragged.

With a sudden jolt of power, I rolled on top of him, reversing our positions. The change was electric, the shift in control sending a fresh wave of arousal through me. I straddled him, my knees sinking into the mattress as I took the reins of our encounter. His eyes snapped open, the surprise quickly giving way to a smoldering lust as he watched me take charge.

I began to ride him, my hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm that had his eyes glazing over. His hands found my hips, guiding me, urging me faster, but I resisted, savoring every moment of dominance. The pleasure was mine to give, and I was going to make sure he knew it.

As I rode him, Dick's hands roamed my body, exploring my curves with a hunger that was both thrilling and slightly terrifying. His fingers found my clit, and he began to circle it with expert precision, the pressure building with every pass. I leaned back, my hair cascading over my shoulders, my breasts bouncing with the force of my movements.

The world narrowed to just us, the sounds of our panting and the slap of our bodies coming together the only music we needed. I felt my climax approaching, a crescendo building deep within me. I clenched my pussy around him, feeling his cock throb in response. It was all the invitation he needed.

With a final, desperate thrust, Dick's eyes rolled back in his head, and I felt him pulse inside me, releasing his warmth deep within my core. I tightened my grip, milking him for every drop, my own orgasm crashing over me in waves. The room was a whirl of sensation, a cacophony of pleasure that drowned out all thought and reason.

As our breathing slowed, the sound of footsteps grew louder, punctuating the silence like a ticking clock. The anticipation of the other two men grew tangible, their need a palpable force pressing against the walls of the room. The heady scent of our passion hung in the air, an invisible bond that connected us all.

Dick's grip on my hips loosened as he pulled out, and I slid off him, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of our shared ecstasy. He offered me a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he handed me a towel to clean up. The gesture was oddly tender amidst the decadence of our situation.

As I stood, I could hear the muffled sounds of Henry and Brian's impatience growing louder. The thrill of their waiting, knowing they were eager to claim their turns, had my heart racing and my skin flushed with excitement. The heady mix of their cologne and the musky scent of sex was intoxicating, making it impossible for me to ignore the need pulsating within me.

To be continued...

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