#scratch-made yogurt

[twiceastasty]

Start making your own dairy products with this two-ingredient recipe that gives you an ongoing supply of fresh yogurt.

[thunderheadfred]

me and Yogurt staring out the window at some BIRD DRAMA tonight

[ballpit-bakery]

more of Yogurt being an irresponsible and terrible choice for a security guard

[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"If You Like Making Love at Midnight"

WC: 5.7k

Summary: Smut. It’s been months since you finally reconciled but every time you try to get close, Alexia pulls back, so you plan a quiet weekend away and hope it’s enough to help her let go.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 , Pt.4 , Pt. 5 , Pt. 6

It had been months. 

Not that either of you were counting anymore, time had stopped feeling like something to measure after that night on the kitchen floor. After the couch, then the bed. After the promise. 

After the kiss.

These days, life had rhythm again. Not the same one it used to have, but a gentler, slower version that felt like it belonged to you both. A rhythm you built together.

Mornings meant Tofu climbing between your bodies at dawn, wedging his tiny goblin self into the warmest part of the mattress like he paid rent. One of you would groan. The other would giggle. Sometimes Alexia would mutter, “You’re lucky I love you,” while scratching behind his ears. He never said thank you. Just flopped over like jello and demanded belly rubs.

You made breakfast side by side now, hips bumping, hands overlapping. Sometimes you fed each other bites over the sink like teenagers. Sometimes she makes a face at your coffee and says, “You still drink it like an old man,” before taking a sip anyway. You bought her favorite yogurt again. She started keeping the cinnamon out on the counter.

Weekends meant long walks, Tofu darting between your legs as if he’d never barked at a bike rack in rage. Evenings were curled-up movies, your legs braided together under the blanket, your fingers tangled in hers. You’d stopped counting how many times she kissed the back of your hand without realizing she was doing it.

And at night?

At night, it was soft.

You held each other in bed like the world would disappear if you didn’t. You kissed slowly. You let your hands roam. You touched each other like worship, like every inch of skin was a secret you were still learning how to re-earn.

But.

Every time it went deeper, every time your kiss lingered too long, every time your palm slipped under her shirt or your mouth found her neck, Alexia pulled away.

Not violently.

Just… froze.

Her body would go still. Her breath would hitch. Then she’d shift back, whisper, “I’m sorry,” or murmur something like, “Not yet,” and disappear into the bathroom.

Sometimes she’d stay in there for ten minutes. Sometimes twenty. When she came back, her eyes were red but dry, and she’d climb back into bed like nothing had happened. Curl into you like the ache in her chest hadn’t just swallowed her whole.

You never pushed. Never pressed.

Because you could feel it. The guilt. The fear. The part of her that still didn’t believe she was allowed to be wanted like that again.

And God, you wanted her. Not just in the way that made you ache at night, but in the way that wanted to give her everything slowly, carefully, with your whole chest. You wanted to make her feel safe inside her own skin again. To remind her that you didn’t love her despite the past, you loved her through it.

But she hadn’t reached for that part of you since she came home.

And you were starting to wonder if she ever would.

Even Tofu seemed to notice the tension, his dramatic huffs every time she left the bed, his glare when she curled into you with her back instead of her face. He’d started sleeping at your knees again, always pointed toward the door like he was keeping watch. Like he was waiting for something to shift.

You were too.

Not for a fix. Not for a grand gesture.

Just… for her to believe that she could take all of you again. Not just the safe parts. And maybe, it was time to help her feel like she didn’t have to be the one to make the next move.

You decided to wait it out a little longer.

You let the quiet unfold, let the moments stay tender and small. You held her when she needed holding. Let her mouth trace the edge of your jaw without asking for anything more. But eventually, when the hesitations stopped being momentary and started becoming routine, something in you whispered: maybe she won’t let herself try until I do something different.

So you planned a trip.

You didn’t tell her at first. Just cleared your calendar. Researched for days. Something private. Secluded. Warm, but not stifling. Somewhere with a soft bed and a big porch. Somewhere with a coastline that glittered like it was trying to apologize for the rest of the world.

You told her two nights before.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” you said, sliding a hand over hers at the breakfast table.

She looked up, blinking through a sleepy daze. “What kind of away?”

“The kind with hammocks and lemon trees. No schedule. Just us.”

Alexia’s face softened in that quiet way it always did when she didn’t have the words yet. She squeezed your hand once and whispered,

“Okay.”

The drive was long enough for music and silence and a few soft jokes about Tofu’s car seat. He’d been dropped off at your friend’s place with his usual dramatic flair, sniffing the couch twice, peeing on the welcome mat, giving you both the stink eye like you’d betrayed him personally.

But by the time you got to the house, tucked behind a long row of cypress trees, just steps from the sea, Alexia’s eyes had gone wide with wonder.

“You did all this?”

You smiled. “We did. I just hit book.”

She kissed you for it. Not hungrily. Just grateful. Her lips were warm against yours, hands steady.

The days blurred in the best way.

You cooked together with the windows open, both of you barefoot, music playing low. She danced with you once, swaying slowly in the kitchen, a wooden spoon still in her hand, her nose tucked behind your ear. You sat on the deck in the afternoons, legs tangled, reading half a paragraph every ten minutes because you couldn’t stop looking at each other.

You lay in the sun and traced patterns into her stomach. She braided your hair sloppily, laughing when it fell apart. You passed a bottle of wine back and forth and talked about everything except the part you hadn’t figured out yet.

On the second morning, you kissed her with purpose.

Not rushed. Not pushing, but with your hands low on her waist, your body curved into hers like you meant it, and God, you did. You kissed her long enough that she moaned into your mouth, hands tightening in your shirt. But then, just as your fingers slipped under the band of her shorts, her body went still.

You felt it.

Like a shutter closed behind her ribs.

She pulled away gently. Her voice shaky.

“I’m sorry. I want to. I just...”

You nodded. Brushed her hair behind her ear. “I know.”

You kissed her forehead and stood. Gave her space. Took your book outside and let her breathe.

She came to sit beside you an hour later, her hand sliding into yours like an apology. You didn’t ask for the words. You just laced your fingers through hers and squeezed.

Later that afternoon, you rented a kayak.

Just one.

Alexia eyed it, then looked at you with an amused smirk as she held up the life vest.

“It’s been a while.”

You raised a brow. “Thought you could pull your own weight this time.”

She laughed: loud, warm, completely unbothered.

“Please. You loved doing all the work.”

You snorted. “I loved watching you lounge in the back like royalty while I steered us into a bunch of rocks.”

“And you still kissed me after,” she said, slipping the vest on and tugging the straps snug.

“Unfortunately.”

Her eyes sparkled as she climbed in behind you, legs pressing against yours, breath already warm at your neck. 

“You were obsessed with me.”

Still am, you didn’t say.

The water was calm, the sky wide and golden. Alexia for once, decided to pull her weight and paddled with an easy rhythm, one hand trailing lazily in the sea when she didn’t need it. Every now and then she leaned forward to point something out. A jellyfish, a cluster of rocks, the ridiculous flop of your sunhat, and every time she did, her chin brushed your shoulder like it belonged there.

“Do you think Tofu would hate this or love it?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the sea.

“Both,” you said.

“He’d bark at the water, fall in, pretend it was your fault, then demand a towel and a treat.”

Alexia laughed, bright and full. You let your head rest against her knee for a moment. Her hand drifted into your hair and stayed. The boat floated in silence for a while, just waves and warmth and the gentle sound of her breath above you.

You were careful not to kiss her here. Not yet.

When you came back to shore, sandy and sun-drunk, she looked like something had let go in her. Her smile came easier. Her limbs moved more freely. You handed her a towel and followed her back to the porch, both of you barefoot and salt crusting your skin.

Later, when the sun dipped just a bit lower, she stretched out across the lounge chair while you sat beside her with sunscreen in your hands.

“I got your back,” you said.

She hummed. “That’s a line.”

“Maybe. But it’s true.”

She didn’t argue. Just shifted so you could straddle the chair behind her, your knees on either side of her hips, the bottle cool in your palm.

You started slow.

Gentle strokes. Careful pressure.

Your hands slid across her shoulders, her spine, the small of her back. Her breath hitched once, then settled. You leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck, just barely.

And then, you felt it.

A soft, involuntary groan.

Low. Unfiltered. Pulled straight from the part of her she hadn’t let you near in months.

You froze.

So did she.

She twisted slightly, eyes wide, cheeks already flushed. “I´m sorry, I didn’t..”

“Hey,” you whispered, sliding your hands around her waist, anchoring her.

“It’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I liked it.”

She looked like she might combust. You kissed her shoulder, slow and warm, and leaned closer until your lips brushed her ear.

“Alexia,” you murmured.

“It’s okay to want this.”

She closed her eyes.

Nodded once.

And didn’t move away.

The sun dipped behind the horizon slowly, like even it didn’t want to leave. The last light bled across the sky in soft oranges and dusky blues, casting shadows across the white curtains and worn wood floors of the bedroom. The sea whispered outside. The windows were open. Everything smelled like salt, heat and lemon trees.

Alexia had barely said a word since the sunscreen moment. But she hadn’t left your side, either. You were both quiet through dinner. Not tense. Just... aware. Like the air had shifted. Like something was standing patiently in the doorway of the night, waiting to be invited in.

She showered first. You heard the water turn off. Heard her bare feet pad across the floor. When you stepped into the room, she was already in bed. Sheets folded neatly over her hips, her back to the door.

You dried your hair with a towel and watched her for a moment.

“Hey,” you said softly.

She turned her head, cheek pressed to the pillow.

“Hi.”

You let the towel drop. Crossed the room slowly. Climbed into bed beside her and pulled the blanket over your legs. You didn’t touch her right away. Just lay there. Close.

She reached for your hand and tangled your fingers together.

Her eyes searched yours in the dim light. “Can I say something stupid?”

You nodded. “Always.”

“I keep thinking I’m going to ruin it again.”

You shifted, your other hand brushing her cheek.

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“Then we fix it. Together.”

Alexia’s throat bobbed. Her eyes went glassy. “I don’t know if I remember how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know,” you whispered.

“You just have to let me love you.”

Her breath caught. And finally, she leaned in.

The kiss was shy at first. Hesitant. Like she was asking a question she didn’t know how to phrase. Her lips brushed yours, then lingered. Just enough pressure to feel real, but not enough to carry weight. Her hand found the hem of your shirt, curled into the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

You didn’t rush her. Instead you cupped her jaw gently, your thumb stroking across the curve of her cheek to ground her. You pressed in again. Soft, steady, patient, and this time, she answered. A slow exhale into your mouth. A trembling inhale when your fingers traced the line of her waist.

You kissed her like you had all the time in the world.

Like you weren’t trying to get anywhere. Just be there.

Her body pressed into yours by inches. Hesitant at first, but growing bolder. Like she was remembering what it felt like to belong to someone without consequence. Her other hand slipped up, cupping the back of your neck, thumb brushing behind your ear. Her lips moved more deliberately now. Her tongue slid across your bottom lip, tentative, testing, and when you parted your mouth for her, she moaned softly into you.

That sound lit something behind your ribs.

Not lust. Not urgency.

Just... need. Pure and quiet and real.

You shifted, inching closer until your knee slotted between hers, until your stomach brushed hers with every breath. Your hands slid under the edge of her shirt, just to feel the warmth of her skin. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Her breath stuttered, but she stayed. Let you hold her.

Let you keep her.

The kiss deepened naturally, like the ocean does when the tide rolls in. Not all at once, not violently, but undeniably. Her mouth opened more fully, her body easing into yours like she’d forgotten how to brace for impact. You felt her fingers grip the back of your shirt tighter, like she didn’t want to lose the anchor. You broke away for a second to catch your breath.

Alexia’s lips were pink and kiss-swollen. Her eyes dark and wide.

“You good?” you asked, voice barely there.

She nodded, breathless. “I’m okay, yeah.”

You smiled. Pressed your forehead to hers.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I want to keep kissing you.”

“Please,” she said, and her voice was equal parts shy and sure.

You kissed her again. This time, she moaned without hesitation. And when you shifted, rolling gently until she was beneath you, she didn’t hesitate. Only exhaled like she’d been waiting for this, for the weight of your body pressing her into the sheets, for the quiet safety of being held and wanted all at once. 

Her legs parted naturally, wrapping loosely around your hips, and her hands found your sides like they belonged there. She wasn’t trembling this time. Just breathing fast. Her chest rose and fell beneath you in little stuttering swells as your lips dragged slowly across her jaw, down the side of her throat, pressing tender kisses into the skin like you were thanking it. Her fingers clenched slightly in the hem of your shirt when your mouth reached the slope of her shoulder.

You paused. Rested your forehead against her chest, just for a breath. “Still okay?” you whispered, voice low and reverent against her skin.

She nodded quickly. Then slower. Her voice came quiet, cracked open and bare. 

“Yes. Just… Go slow?”

Your answer was a kiss to her collarbone.

You kissed lower, down her sternum, across the soft curve of her stomach. Her hands slid up your back as you moved, fingertips just barely brushing your skin, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to want more. When your mouth reached her waist, you let your thumbs trace a slow line beneath the hem of her underwear. You looked up.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, your voice just a breath.

She looked down at you with something raw in her eyes. Vulnerability, fear, maybe even a little disbelief, and then nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Please.”

You peeled the fabric down with care, kissing every new inch of exposed skin as you went. Her breath caught when the air met her, sharp and quiet, her legs tensing and then slowly loosening again. You settled between her thighs, your palms warm and grounding as they smoothed along the tops of them. You kissed the inside of her knee first. Then again. Then higher, and higher, until she let out the smallest, prettiest whimper. One you felt more than heard.

Her hands moved to your head, not pushing, just anchoring. Like she needed something to hold on to as your mouth met her.

The first touch of your tongue made her gasp. High, startled, involuntary.

You paused. Kissed her inner thigh. Whispered,

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

She made a sound like she was trying to say something, but all that came out was a broken little moan. You stayed slow. Gentle. Every movement of your mouth was deliberate. Loving. You wanted her to feel safe here. Wanted her to know this wasn’t about claiming her, it was about giving her back to herself.

She whispered your name like she didn’t know she was saying it. Over and over. A plea. A thank you. A prayer.

You felt her legs tighten around your shoulders, hips lifting into your mouth, and you held her with both hands, letting her move. Letting her chase it. Her fingers tangled tight in your hair, tugging when your tongue stroked just right. The sounds she made were beautiful. Soft, breathy and building slowly. She whimpered your name again, her thighs trembling and her breath catching on every exhale.

When you felt her start to break apart beneath you, you didn’t stop. You just pressed your hands tighter into her hips and murmured, 

“You can let go. I’ve got you.”

She came with a sharp gasp, her whole body arching into you, her legs trembling as her hands clutched at your shoulders like she might fall without you. The sound she made was soft, her mouth falling open, a long, shaky moan that fell apart into breath.

You stayed with her. Let her ride it out. Kissed her through it. Slowed down only when her grip on your hair softened, when her body slumped into the mattress like it had given everything up to you. When you finally looked up, her eyes were wet. Her lips parted. Her breath was shaky. She looked like she was seeing you for the first time all over again.

You kissed her thigh. Her stomach. The space over her heart.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

And for once, she didn’t look away. She just reached for you as her voice cracked around the edges, quiet and full of wonder. “I didn’t know I could still feel like this.”

Your heart clenched. You leaned into her touch, pressed a kiss into her palm. “You can,” you murmured. “You do.”

And then you let your lips trail up her wrist, her forearm, soft and slow, until you were kissing her again, mouth to mouth. This time deeper. Hungrier. Your hand slipped under her thigh, lifting her slightly, your body pressing into hers in a way that made you both gasp.

You pulled back just enough to speak, brushing your lips against hers. “Do you want more?”

Alexia’s eyes fluttered open. Her face was already flushed, but a deeper pink bloomed across her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. Then a softer and breathless “Please.”

It hit you low and deep. That voice. That look. Like she needed you more than air.

Alexia’s hands found the hem of your shirt first, fingertips trembling slightly as she pushed it up your back. You helped her, peeling it off and tossing it aside. Her hands ran along your sides like she was rediscovering something sacred. Her eyes flicked to your chest, then back to your face, and when you nodded, she leaned in and kissed the space between your breasts slowly with reverence. Like she wanted to memorize the way your skin tasted.

You tugged her top off in return, baring her completely, and paused just to look at her. God, she was stunning. Pink-cheeked, kiss-bitten, glowing in the low light. Her chest lifted in soft, uneven waves as she looked up at you like you were everything she’d ever been afraid to want.

You bent to kiss the slope of one breast. Then the other. Tongue slow, lips soft, just enough to make her sigh sweet and shakily, then curl her hands in your hair.

“I could stay here forever,” you whispered against her skin.

“Don’t,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

So you didn’t. You kissed your way down her stomach once more, letting your palms smooth over her sides to settle her, ground her. She was already open for you, legs parted, body relaxed in that beautiful, post-release haze. But as your breath ghosted between her thighs again, you felt her shiver, like her body remembered exactly what was coming and still couldn’t believe it.

You kissed the inside of her thigh first. Then again, higher this time, until you felt her shift beneath you, hips tilting just slightly, silently asking for more.

Her hands found your hair again when your mouth met her. The second time was slower, more decadent than desperate. Your tongue moved in patient, reverent circles, teasing her back toward that same edge with delicate precision. She gasped on contact, hips twitching upward, and you wrapped your arms beneath her thighs to steady her, keep her grounded as you took your time.

The noises she made were different this time. Looser. Bolder. She moaned without shame now, let her head fall back, let her thighs open wider. Her hands clutched at you like you were the only thing tethering her to earth.

“God” she whimpered, voice thin and high, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“You like it,” you murmured, lips brushing where she was already soaking for you. “You’re so sensitive, baby. So perfect for me.”

She answered with a helpless little cry and rolled her hips into your mouth. You let her chase it. Let her grind. Let her fall apart however she needed.

It didn’t take long. Her body remembered. Her blood remembered. And when you flattened your tongue and sucked just right, she came undone again with a broken, beautiful moan and your name tangled in it. Her thighs clamped around your shoulders, her back arched off the bed, and all you could do was hold on and worship her through every wave of it.

You stayed there kissing her, soothing her, whispering quiet things into the soft skin of her thighs as she trembled and sighed and eventually went still.

When you crawled back up to her, she was glowing. Skin flushed, lips parted, eyes heavy with something deep and aching. She looked at you like she could cry. Like she could laugh. Like she could kiss you for the rest of her life.

You kissed her chest again, over her heart, where it beat wild beneath your lips.

“I” she started, then laughed weakly.

“Jesus.”

You kissed her, slow and deep and tasting of her. Her hands slid to your back, pulling you closer like she couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

When you pulled away, you whispered against her jaw,

“You want to stop here?”

She shook her head. “No. Please, no. I want you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, already curling your fingers gently between her legs. “Tell me.”

She moaned, low and shaky. “I want your fingers, please.”

Your whole body ached at the sound of it.

So you gave her one finger first. Slipped it in slow, gentle, coaxing. Her body welcomed you easily, still slick, still pulsing from the last release.You watched her face. The way her mouth opened, her brows knit, her thighs shifted.

“Still okay?” you murmured.

She nodded, whispering, “More.”

You slid in a second finger, scissoring slightly, letting her stretch around you.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, hips canting upward.

“That’s so. God, yes.”

You kissed her shoulder, her throat, her jaw. “You’re taking it so well. You feel so good, baby.”

When you added the third, it was slow. Her breath hitched, then broke into a moan that turned into something higher, needier. Her hands gripped your back, nails digging in, her legs wrapping around your hips.

“You’re so deep,” she panted. “I feel everything.”

You rocked your hand gently, curling your fingers just right, watching the way her entire body responded, arched, opened, begged. She was so wet, so full, so wrecked already, and you weren’t going to stop until she fell apart again.

And this time, when she did, it was louder. Her head tipped back, a choked-out cry tearing from her lips as she came again, gripping your wrist, her thighs shaking around your arm as you fucked her through it with everything you had.

She was crying by the time she settled. Quiet, overwhelmed tears, the kind that came with being seen, being held, being loved that deeply.

You kissed her cheeks. Her eyes. Her mouth.

“Still okay?” you asked softly.

She nodded, eyes shining.

Then she smiled.

“God,” she breathed, voice hoarse, lips swollen from your kisses, “you´re ruining me.”

You grinned against her skin, your mouth pressed to the rapid pulse in her neck, your fingers still slick with her. “Oh, baby,” you murmured, dragging your nose along her jaw. “I’m just getting started.”

She shivered beneath you, part anticipation and part desperation. Her hands gripped your back like she didn’t trust herself not to float away. You felt her nails scrape, not hard, just enough to make you feel it. Just enough to make your chest thrum with heat.

You kissed your way down her body again, worshipful. Each pass of your mouth was slower, wetter, more intentional than before. You kissed her breastbone, her sternum, the soft skin just below her ribs. She arched into every touch, her thighs already parting again without you asking.

“I need,” she started, then broke off with a whimper as your lips brushed the top of her thigh.

You looked up, mouth resting just below her hip. Her hands trembled where they hovered mid-air, reaching but not sure what to grab.

“What do you need?” you asked, soft and low, lips brushing her skin.

Her voice cracked. “I need more, need you inside. All of you.”

God, the sound of that. You felt it in your knees. In your spine.

“You’ve already had me, baby,” you said, sliding your hands up her sides.

“I just want to give you more.”

You moved slowly, crawling up her body to kiss her again, deep and anchoring, so she remembered where she was. That she was safe. That she was yours.

You reached for the harness then, slow and deliberate, not trying to rush the moment but letting her see it, feel it in the air. Your fingers wrapped around the base, the weight familiar, grounding. Her breath caught as you adjusted it, buckled it on like a promise you’d waited months to keep.

Alexia watched you like she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her eyes were glassy, her thighs already twitching with anticipation. You ran your hands down her sides again, over the curve of her hips, and kissed her like it was the last thing you’d ever do.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” you murmured against her lips.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong. I’ll stop in a second.”

She shook her head, chest rising fast. “No, I want this..”

You lined yourself up, slow and reverent. One hand at her hip, the other guiding. You kissed her knee again, her thigh, every part of her that was open and trembling.

“Breathe with me,” you whispered, and she did.

And then you pushed in.

The first inch made her gasp, her hand flying to your shoulder. You froze, your hand steady at her hip, watching her face, every flicker of pleasure and stretch and disbelief written there like scripture.

“Okay?” you asked, your voice so low it vibrated between you.

She nodded, a tiny moan slipping past her lips. “More.”

You gave her another inch. And another. Her legs came up to wrap around your waist, heels pressing into the small of your back like she was pulling you in. Her walls clenched around the silicone, drawing you deeper. Her breath came in sharp, short little gasps, her brows drawn tight, her eyes fluttering closed.

And then when you were all the way in, when your hips met hers and your bodies were flush, she groaned.

Not a polite sound. Not a soft one.

No, this was deep. Ragged. From her gut.

It punched the air out of both of you.

Her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, her mouth open against your neck as she tried to breathe, to survive the feeling of you inside her. You kissed the side of her face, her temple, her ear, murmuring soft nothings: I’ve got you, I’ve got you, you’re so good, you’re so perfect, this is what we waited for.

Then she did it.

She bit you. Hard.

Her teeth sank into your shoulder, sharp and knowing, and the groan it tore out of you was unholy.

“Baby,” you choked, rocking your hips into her once, slow, deep, devastating. “If you do that again, I don’t think I’ll be able to be as gentle as I want to be.”

She lifted her head just enough to look at you.

Flushed. Panting. Dazed.

And then, with the filthiest desperation you’d ever heard in your life:

“Good. I don’t want gentle. I want to feel it tomorrow.”

Your body snapped.

The thrust you gave her next was deeper. Hungrier. She cried out, loud and hoarse and so fucking wrecked and her legs squeezed tighter around your waist, anchoring you in place.

You fucked her like you’d been waiting your whole life to do it.

Long, steady strokes that kept her pinned to the bed. Each thrust angled to hit just right. The rhythm you set was smooth but heavy and filled with all the want you’d swallowed down for months.

Her voice was a constant moaning, whimpering and breathless gasps of your name,

“Yes, yes, right there. Oh my God, don’t stop”

Her nails clawed at your back. Her teeth found your neck again. You grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, your hips not stopping for a second, and she howled.

“I’m gonna come,” she warned, voice high and thin and breaking apart.

“Fuck, I’m gonna”

You kissed her through it. Didn’t stop. Held her down and rocked into her over and over until she shattered.

She came hard, full-body, her back arching off the bed, her thighs shaking, her voice rising into something feral and cracked and completely undone. You slowed but didn’t pull out. Let her ride it out, let her hips twitch and grind and milk every last drop of the feeling.

Alexia collapsed beneath you with a shuddering exhale, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Her hands, which had been clenched in the sheets, fluttered weakly before one of them found your jaw and held it like she was afraid you'd vanish. Her mouth was parted, her eyes wide and glassy, her cheeks painted a deep, delicious pink.

And god, she looked utterly wrecked. 

Gorgeous and alive in a way that made your chest ache.

You didn’t move right away.

Didn’t pull out. Didn’t let go.

You just hovered there, catching your breath, your foreheads pressed together, your noses brushing every time one of you tried to inhale. Her legs were still wrapped around your waist, loosely now, like she hadn’t realized she could let go.

You kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her jaw. Then her cheek, just beneath her eye, where the skin was still damp with heat and sweat and something close to tears.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice ruined and tender. “All good there?”

Alexia let out a laugh that was mostly air and a little bit dazed hysteria. “No,” she whispered.

“God, no. I think I died.”

You smiled, dizzy with how much you adored her.

“You did. I saw it. Really tragic. I cried.”

“I blacked out at one point,” she murmured, brushing her fingers over your collarbone.

“There were stars.”

“There were definitely stars.” You grinned into her skin.

“Also, you bit me.”

She looked up at you, eyes narrowing. “You love it.”

“Maybe,” you said, cocking your head playfully.

“A little.”

She groaned and dropped her head back into the pillow, a loose, satisfied sound that warmed your entire chest. “I’m going to feel this for a week.”

“Good.” You kissed her again, slower this time, smiling against her lips. “You said you wanted to feel it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she said with a faint wheeze. “Not forever.”

You laughed into her neck and held her tighter. Let your hand drift down to where your bodies were still connected, resting there gently, protectively. Her breath hitched. You could still feel her heartbeat, fast, fluttering, right beneath your palm.

And then something shifted.

She exhaled. A real one. Deep, shaky, but steady.

Then she looked up at you clear-eyed. Centered. Like something had settled inside her at last.

“You didn’t just ruin me,” she whispered.

“You put me back together.”

Your throat closed around the words you wanted to say back. So you kissed her instead, deep and sure and full of everything you couldn’t say yet.

When you finally pulled back, she was smiling.

“You’re staying here,” she said softly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” she said, like it was the easiest truth in the world.

“You’re mine. Here. Now.”

You dropped your forehead to hers.

“Always.”

You finally rolled onto your side, pulling her with you, wrapping every limb you could around her. You stayed just like that: bodies tangled, skin flushed, the ocean humming outside like it knew that it witnessed something holy.

Because it had.

You’d waited. You’d rebuilt.

And now, finally, she was yours again. Not just in your arms, but in herself.

In the part that used to say, not me, not like this. Now, she knew better. She knew she was worthy of all of it.

And you would remind her. Over and over again. Because this was love and this time it stayed.

Fin.

[chaosandcandies]

UNPLUGGED

CHAPTER XX: 3 A.M. Talks

trope: fem!9th skz member warnings: angst, drama, insecure oc, cyber bullying, slow burn pairings: hyunjinxfem!oc prev|next

TIME PASSED IN A WAY that made no sense.

Iseul didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t cry. Just sat curled in the dark with her forehead pressed to her knees, as the silence wrapped itself tighter and tighter around her.

The daylight outside faded slowly. Softly. Like the sun was afraid to disturb her.

And she stayed exactly where she was, long after the sky turned purple, then black. Long after the dorm fell quiet. Long after the last voice died down and the weight of her own thoughts became the only thing she could hear.

Her fingers had stopped trembling. But only because they’d gone numb.

Her chest ached in a strange, echoing way — like it was full of too much air and not enough breath.

Her stomach twisted painfully.

But she didn’t move.

Every time she thought she might stand, might crawl out, might breathe — a new thought would worm its way in.

They’re disappointed in you. You ruined everything.

They’ll never trust you again.

You don’t deserve any of this.

And so she stayed.

Trapped in her own head.

And somehow, weirdly aware of it. Of how loud the thoughts were. How relentless. Like background noise cranked up to full volume — static and self-loathing and dread on loop.

It had to be late. The kind of late that felt unreal.

Even the dorm felt different — heavier in the quiet, like it too was holding its breath.

At some point, her eyes flicked toward the digital clock near her bed.

3:17 A.M.

She blinked.

It was the first real movement she’d made in hours.

Her throat suddenly throbbed.

Dry. Raw. Itchy.

It was as if the moment she let herself feel anything physical, her body caught up all at once.

A quiet cough forced its way out, scratching her throat. She grimaced.

And then — very slowly, very carefully — she pulled herself up.

Her legs were stiff. The blanket tangled around her ankles. Her shoulders screamed from being hunched so long. But she moved anyway.

The room was pitch-black, but the hallway beyond was worse — ghost quiet. She opened her door in slow motion, wincing at every tiny creak.

Nothing.

No lights.

No sounds.

The dorm was asleep.

Everyone had given up on her. Gone to bed. And even though part of her felt some awful shame at that… she was grateful too.

At least this way she didn’t have to face them.

She took a step and promptly tripped over something soft and cold.

The plastic bag crinkled under her foot.

She caught herself against the wall with a sharp inhale, heart lurching.

She looked down.

The yogurt.

The same bag Jeongin had bought for her hours ago, the one Felix set down gently beside her door. The strawberry one had burst slightly, a sticky little smear across the floor.

She stared at it.

And then everything hit her all at once.

Her chest caved in.

She had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop the sob from escaping.

This. This was what she’d done. This mess. This silence. These people tiptoeing around her with kindness she didn’t deserve.

She stepped over it quickly, blinking hard.

No tears. Not now.

She walked the rest of the way to the kitchen like a ghost. Each step silent. Careful. Like the walls themselves might wake up and judge her.

And just as she stepped past the corner — ready to fill a glass of water and disappear again — she froze.

Because someone was already there.

Hyunjin.

Sitting on the counter like he belonged there, one knee bent, hoodie sleeves pulled halfway over his hands, phone in one of them, the dimmed screen light throwing white over his face.

He didn’t jump. Didn’t startle.

Just looked up at her with an expression that was so normal, so unbothered, it was jarring.

“…Took you long enough,” he said quietly.

She stared at him like he wasn’t real.

He tilted his head slightly. “I was beginning to think you actually died in there.”

Iseul opened her mouth, then closed it. She cleared her throat. “Why are you—?”

“Do you want some ramen?” he cut in smoothly, hopping off the counter and opening the cabinet. “I’m starving. I’m assume you would be too. Lix and Innie bought the spicy ones.”

A small pause. “Your favourite right?”

Something about the way he said it — so casual, like she didn’t throw a bloody tantrum earlier— made her feel like the floor was tipping sideways. She wasn’t sure what startled her more — his presence, or the calmness in his voice. No judgement. No anger. Just… him. Like he was talking to her on any other day.

“Hwang,” she whispered, throat still raw. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He didn’t look at her right away. Just reached for the ramen packets, his movements steady, unbothered.

And then softly: “Don’t call me Hwang.”

“Huh?”

He shrugged, not turning around. “I hate it when my friends call me Hwang.”

Silence.

Iseul’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled against her palms.

Friends.

The word landed somewhere deep in her chest — unexpected, too heavy for how gently he’d said it.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice the way she’d stilled. He was too focused on tearing open the packets, humming quietly to himself, like he hadn’t just casually flipped her world sideways.

“Friends?” Iseul croaked.

He finally glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow. “Are we not?”

The question hung between them like a thread.

“We live together, work together…” He paused to toss the noodles into the pot. “Tolerate each other’s presence every day.”

Another pause. He glanced at her again — softer this time.

“And right now,” he said, “we’re about to eat ramen together at 3 A.M.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because that’s what friends do.”

Iseul didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

Her tongue felt heavy. Her throat ached again — but not from thirst this time. It was something else. Something messier. Something that scraped against the inside of her chest and made her feel like she was about to crumble again.

Friends.

Her brain clung to the word like it didn’t know what to do with it.

Her? After everything? After snapping, after pushing them all away, after sitting for hours in the dark like a coward — now he wanted to call her a friend?

She stared at him.

At the way he tapped his fingers idly against the stove. At the way the blue flame reflected in his eyes. At how calm he looked, even now — like this wasn’t bizarre, like this wasn’t undeserved.

She opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

You don’t deserve this. You don’t get to pretend everything’s okay just because he does. You ruined it. You broke it.

But then… another voice, quieter, cut through.

Why is he here then? Why did he wait?

Her eyes burned.

He hadn’t dragged her out or demanded an apology. He had just simply waited. And offered her food. And said the word “friends” like it wasn’t a mistake.

Maybe he was faking it.

Maybe this was pity.

Maybe he was trying to be kind for the sake of the group, because someone had to, and Chan probably made him.

But then — why the ramen?

Why her favourite?

Why wait out here, alone, until 3 A.M., instead of going to bed like the others?

Why say friends in that quiet, casual way, like it was obvious?

“Iseul?”

Hyunjin’s voice was gentler now. Like he’d noticed her spiralling. Like he was trying not to scare her off.

She flinched.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I just— I don’t think I know how to be that right now.”

“Be what?”

“A friend,” she choked out.

The words hung there, bare and ugly.

“I messed everything up,” she said, eyes glued to the floor. “Everyone was already walking on eggshells because of me, and then I made it worse. I— I threw a phone. I yelled at Chan oppa. I—I made it about me. Again. I made them feel like—like they had to fix me or something.”

Her chest felt too tight. Her lungs didn’t work right.

“And now you’re standing here making me ramen like it’s normal— like I’m normal, and I don’t— I don’t understand.”

There was silence.

Not awkward. Not cruel. Just… patient.

And then: the faint clink of chopsticks being pulled from the drawer.

“Well,” Hyunjin said, “you’re not wrong.”

Her head snapped up.

“You did all that. And yeah, it was kinda dramatic.”

She blinked, stunned.

“But,” he continued, setting two bowls down, “That wasn’t the worst meltdown I’ve ever seen in this dorm.”

Her lips parted.

“I once watched Lee Know hyung scream into a rice cooker because he forgot to plug it in,” Hyunjin added, placing the noodles into the pot. “And Lixie nearly cried when he stepped on a cockroach. Don’t even get me started on I.N-ah when he couldn’t find his favourite socks. Once, Changbin hyung threw a chair during Mario Kart, and no one exiled him.””

A soundless breath of disbelief escaped her.

He glanced at her, expression unreadable. “You had a breakdown. That doesn’t make you impossible. Or broken. Or… whatever story you’ve been telling yourself in there.” He nodded vaguely toward her room.

Iseul’s lip trembled.

“Besides,” he added, his voice dipping just slightly. “You never really made it about you. You were just finally honest about how much it hurt.”

She stared at him. The guilt still clawed at her ribs — but it was quiet now. Not gone, but… quiet.

“…Hyunjin.”

It was the first time she’d said it.

His name. Not Hwang. Not something cautious and cold. Just Hyunjin.

He froze.

Only for a moment — the barest pause, like a skipped frame — but it was enough.

His head tilted slightly, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

Then, slowly, he glanced over his shoulder.

There was something different in his expression now. The casual coolness he’d worn like armour was… off. A little cracked at the edges.

Was it surprise? Embarrassment?

His ears were a little pink.

“…What?” he asked, softer this time, the word catching on his breath.

But Iseul didn’t notice.

She was too wrapped up in her own spiral to catch the way his fingers fumbled slightly on the lid, or the way he didn’t quite meet her eyes after that.

Because inside her head, everything was still churning. Her guilt. Her doubt. Her confusion. The tiny, aching seed of hope that maybe — just maybe — she hadn’t destroyed everything beyond repair.

She lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”

Soft. Honest.

A beat of silence passed between them — not tense, but tentative. Like standing at the edge of something neither of them had the words for.

Then Hyunjin spoke again, quieter now, but certain.

“You should talk to Chan hyung.”

Iseul blinked, looking up.

A pause. And then she nodded slowly. “Tomorrow. It’s… late right now.”

Hyunjin scoffed lightly — not mocking, just matter-of-fact — as he poured the ramen into bowls.

“You do realize none of us are asleep. Least of all him.”

He handed her a bowl. Their fingers brushed.

“Eat first,” he said gently. “Then go to him.”

The bowl in her hands was warm — almost too warm — and she hadn’t realized how cold her fingers were until now. The steam hit her face, stinging her tired eyes, and she blinked fast.

Hyunjin didn’t say anything. Just turned, grabbed his own bowl, and plopped back onto the counter like this was routine. Like this — the two of them, eating ramen at 3:30 a.m. under the dim kitchen light — was nothing unusual.

Iseul hovered awkwardly for a second before sliding onto a stool across from him.

She took a bite. The heat burned her tongue a little, but the spice jolted her senses awake. Her stomach, dead for hours, practically sighed in relief.

Across from her, Hyunjin slurped a noodle with absolutely no grace.

Then he made a face. “Ugh, what is so awesome about this spicy ramen you like? It tastes like hell.”

Iseul blinked at him over her bowl. Her voice was still hoarse but steadier, “Your taste in food is diabolical.”

Hyunjin gasped in mock offence and then quickly retaliated, “It’s funny coming from a yogurt-hoarding gremlin.”

Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth.

He’d said it so casually. Like it was a normal thing. Like it was her thing.

Gremlin.

It wasn’t the first time, she realized. He’d called her that last week when she emerged from her room at 2 p.m. with bed hair and was given a heart attack when she walked into the livestream. And again, during the Christmas party.

And now — again. Like it had become second nature.

Her ears warmed.

He had a nickname for her.

A stupid one. A ridiculous one. But his voice had softened slightly when he said it, hadn’t it?

No. No, it was just Hyunjin being Hyunjin.

Still. Her chest did a strange little flutter that made her want to hurl her ramen out the window and sprint back to her room.

She coughed into her bowl to cover the heat rising to her cheeks. “That’s slander,” she muttered, too late, too quiet.

Hyunjin raised a brow, already halfway into his next bite. “Don’t act innocent. You literally tackled Seungmin that day.”

“He deserved it-”

She cut herself off, suddenly hyper-aware of how easy this was. How the tension had dissolved like steam from their bowls, and how she didn’t feel like a burden or a disappointment in this moment. Just Iseul. Just someone sharing late-night ramen with a boy who, apparently, called her gremlin now.

She dropped her gaze, biting back a smile.

Hyunjin didn’t notice — or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He just kept eating, legs swinging gently off the counter, still talking. About Jeongin trying to do laundry and somehow shrinking three of Chan’s hoodies. About Felix’s failed attempt to bake banana bread in the dorm microwave. About the time Minho threatened to disown all of them because someone left an open jam jar in the fridge and it “contaminated the vibe.”

He didn’t expect her to respond. He didn’t demand anything of her. He just… talked. Like he did with the others.

And Iseul let herself listen as they finished eating slowly, like neither of them wanted to be the first to stand. But eventually, Hyunjin rose, stretched a little, and wordlessly began clearing the table.

Iseul stood up too, taking the bowls from him before he could stop her.

They washed the dishes side by side, clumsy in their coordination — bumping elbows, swapping places, dripping water across the counter. And somehow, it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t hard.

It just was.

Once the last dish was done and the lights dimmed back down, Hyunjin didn’t say anything.

He just turned toward the hallway.

And Iseul, without thinking, followed.

It wasn’t until they stopped in front of Chan’s room that she realized what was happening.

Her feet stopped moving.

Hyunjin didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at her — eyes calm, hands in his pockets.

Then, with no warning, he gently nudged her forward with his elbow.

Iseul stiffened. “What—?”

“Go,” he said, voice low but not unkind. “You’ll feel better.”

She stared at the door. At the dark sliver of wood between her and everything she’d been running from all day.

Her heart thudded in her ears.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Hyunjin sighed. “You can. You’re just scared.”

“I—”

“And that’s fine,” he cut in, still gentle. “Be scared. But go anyway.”

She looked at him, something desperate in her eyes. “What if he doesn’t want to hear it?”

Hyunjin gave a small, lopsided smile.

“Then he’ll say so. But he will. He always does.”

She turned back to the door.

Her knuckles hovered above the wood. Not knocking. Just… hovering.

Behind her, Hyunjin took a step back, giving her space. She didn’t see the way he looked at her then — quiet, unreadable, and maybe just a little too soft for someone pretending he didn’t care as much as he did.

Iseul was still staring at the door. Still weighing guilt against hope. Fear against the memory of Chan’s voice telling her she belonged.

And then, finally — just barely — she knocked.

“Chan oppa?” She asked, voice brittle, “Are you still up?”

She heard some shuffling of feet and mutters behind the door and before Iseul could change her mind, the door creaked open.

Chan appeared, a black beanie sporting on his head, face bare. The shadows around his eyes made Iseul’s chest clench. He looked… older. Not in the literal sense — but worn. Like someone who’d been carrying too much for too long.

“Iseul?” he said, voice quiet.

She swallowed. “I—”

She didn’t even get the words out before movement behind him caught her eye.

In the low dorm light, she could make out two suspiciously still figures behind him — one lying on the bottom bunk, the other propped up against a pillow — both attempting to look asleep.

They were failing spectacularly.

Han was blatantly squinting through half-lidded eyes, phone still lit in his lap like a night lamp. Changbin had a blanket thrown haphazardly over his head… with a whole half of his face still visible under it.

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them moved.

They were absolutely eavesdropping.

Chan glanced behind him with a tired sigh. “You two are the worst at pretending.”

Han shut his eyes immediately.

Changbin made a weird snorting sound, as if trying to fake a snore, then muttered, “Respectfully, I’m asleep.”

Iseul blinked at them — bewildered, caught between guilt and… a sudden, strange relief. Like she’d opened the door expecting an execution, and instead found this.

Chan turned back to her, one hand resting against the frame.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice softening now. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t know how to answer that.

She just looked at him — his tired eyes, his furrowed brow, the way he didn’t seem mad at all. Just concerned. Deeply, achingly concerned. The kind of tired worry that settles in your bones and stays there.

She glanced at Hyunjin beside her. He didn’t say anything. Just gave her the faintest nod — like she already knew what to do.

She turned back to Chan, throat dry.

“I…” she tried again, then stopped. Her fingers curled into her sleeves. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier.”

The words came out rough, half-cracked — like they’d scraped their way up from somewhere buried deep.

Chan didn’t react right away. He just looked at her for a long moment, unreadable.

Then, finally, he exhaled.

“You were upset,” he said, simply. “You had every right to be.”

“No,” she shook her head, “Not like that. I— I said things I didn’t mean. I just— I was overwhelmed, and tired, and angry, and I didn’t know where to put any of it, and you were there, and I—”

“Iseul.”

His voice cut through her spiral, low but steady.

She stopped.

Chan took a step forward. “It’s alright.”

She blinked, eyes stinging. “No, it’s not. I made you feel worse. You’ve done so much for me and I just—God, I’m so fucking sorry, Channie oppa, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re human,” he said, almost too gently. “Not a trainee. Not a member. Not a perfect idol. Just a person. And people mess up. That doesn’t erase everything else.”

Her breath hitched.

And behind Chan, Han whispered not-so-quietly, “Why is this making me emotional? Is this what personal growth feels like?”

“Shut up,” Changbin whispered back, audibly sniffling.

Chan gave them a sideways glance but didn’t comment. Instead, he turned to Iseul again, gaze soft.

“I was never mad at you,” he said. “Just… worried.”

Something inside her cracked at that. She pressed her sleeves harder into her palms.

“Hyunjin told me to come,” she murmured, like she needed to admit it. “I don’t think I would’ve, otherwise.”

Chan smiled faintly as he glanced at Hyunjin. “Yeah, that’s Hyunjin for you.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to hear it, that you hate me now.”

“Of course your overthinking ass did.” He paused, then added, “I’m sorry too.”

Iseul froze.

Chan’s lips twitched — not quite a smile, more a self-deprecating curl of his mouth.

“I should’ve seen it earlier. I should’ve known you were reaching your limit. I didn’t mean to push you so hard, Iseul. I thought I was helping, but—” he let out a soft breath — “maybe I just made things harder.”

She shook her head immediately, eyes wide. “No, you didn’t. Don’t say that.”

“Iseul—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her voice cracked again. “None of this is your fault. You were just— you were just trying to lead. To keep us all afloat. And I—I lashed out because I didn’t know how else to keep myself from falling apart.”

“I should’ve checked in,” he murmured. “I should’ve noticed how much pressure you were under.”

“You did notice,” she insisted, blinking too fast now. “You were always there. You always asked. I just— I kept saying I was fine. Because if I said I wasn’t, I thought I’d break. And I didn’t want to be the weak link, not again, not when you were all finally trying to accept me.”

Her vision blurred.

Her voice wobbled.

And without even realizing it, the tears started to fall.

Soft. Silent. Salty streaks down her cheeks that she didn’t even try to stop.

Not until Han gasped loudly from the bed, as if someone had shot him. “Oh no, she’s crying. I’m gonna cry.”

Changbin hissed under his breath, “Shut up, shut up—”

“I can’t! My tear ducts are connected to my empathy centre—!”

“God, just bury your face, you emotional sponge—!”

Chan’s hand touched her shoulder — warm and grounding.

“Hey,” he said gently, brushing a thumb beneath her eye before she could flinch. “You’re allowed to cry, okay?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, laughing shakily through the tears. “I just—”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing. I told you. I was never mad at you. Just worried.”

She looked up at him then — truly looked — and saw it in his face. The quiet, bone-deep worry that had nothing to do with performance or mistakes or fights. It was the kind of worry that only came from care.

Beside her, Hyunjin shifted, arms still crossed over his chest — but his expression was softer than before. Less guarded. He wasn’t looking at her now. He was looking at Chan, a small, unreadable twitch tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Iseul sniffled. Wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, what’s embarrassing is Han trying to cover his sobs with the blanket and failing.”

A loud sniff from under said blanket.

“I’m not crying,” Han said thickly. “I have conjunctivitis.”

“That's not even contagious this way—”

Changbin groaned. “Can we just all admit we're emotionally invested and move on?”

Hyunjin snorted softly. “They’re hopeless.”

Chan rolled his eyes but it didn’t stop him from pulling Iseul into a hug. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t the kind of hug people give when they’re trying to erase everything all at once.

It was just warm. Steady. Real.

Iseul’s breath hitched as her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

“On the positive side, you didn’t run away from us this time.” Chan said quietly, “You stayed and you showed us you were upset. That counts as something.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just nodded — once, twice — against his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soaking up the last of her tears.

Chan gave her arms one last squeeze, then stepped back slightly, offering a tired smile. “You should sleep; you’ve had a long day.”

Iseul nodded, but it was slow. Hesitant. Her arms stayed wrapped around herself, sleeves tugged down over her hands. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her eyes were still glassy — fragile in the way a cracked porcelain plate is fragile. Like one wrong shift could split everything again.

She didn’t move.

Chan tilted his head. “Iseul?”

She swallowed. And then, barely audible — like the words had to crawl their way out of her throat — she whispered, “I don’t… want to be alone tonight. Not anymore.”

It was barely a request. Not quite a plea. Just a truth, quiet and unguarded, hanging there between them like something fragile.

Chan’s eyes flickered, but his expression stayed unreadable — the kind of quiet that said he was weighing more than just words.

Behind him, Han went dead silent. Even Changbin stopped sniffling.

For a moment, there was only stillness.

And then Chan stepped back fully, “Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin glanced up, brows raised. He still hadn’t uncrossed his arms. Still hadn’t moved from his spot by the wall.

“Can you make her some space?” Chan asked. “She can take your bunk for tonight.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Hyunjin sighed through his nose. “You’re lucky I’m too soft for this.”

Still, he turned and padded down the hallway without complaint, muttering something about the couch and his bad life choices.

Chan stepped aside, holding the door open. Iseul hesitated, eyes flickering between him and the dimly lit room — the boys inside pretending not to be listening, the blanket on Hyunjin’s bed still rumpled.

Iseul stood there for a second longer.

Then, slowly, she stepped into the room.

Han immediately let out a dramatic sigh and shoved his face into his pillow. “This is so tender I’m getting hives.”

Changbin flung a rolled-up sock at him.

Chan shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching. Then he turned back to Iseul and said gently, “Try to rest. You’re safe here.”

She nodded again. Her eyes lingered on him, then flickered to the bed. She still looked overwhelmed, but there was a new kind of quiet in her expression — the kind that came after the storm had passed.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Chan didn’t reply right away. He just gave her one last look — warm, steady — and pulled the door closed behind him.

TAGLIST: @leewritesstuff, @athens-09xx, @allenajade-ite, @idjdndjzbsdm, @idjdndjzbsdm, @hyuneskkami, @geni-627, @valkirymin, @miminbin, @tillaboo, @dreamerwasfound, @youthsquaredd, @skzstannie, @nchhuhi, @rtyuy1346, @necrozica, @aemondsrhaenyra, @skzfangirl143, @eridanuswave, @enhacolor, @vixensss, @river121798

STORY HINT: The next morning, Iseul wakes up to find all eight boys crowding her room like a swarm of overgrown toddlers. Jeongin, normally allergic to affection, is clinging to her like a koala. Seungmin and Minho take exactly three seconds to start bullying her for snoring “like a stressed-out hamster.” Hyunjin, offended that Jeongin willingly cuddles her, says something stupid that actually makes her laugh—and then stares at her like he just discovered air. Chan watches it all with narrowed eyes.

oh hello wassup didn't figure i would post another chapter so soon huh? well guess i was feeling generous tdy hehe moreover we have hit 20 chapter in this fic and it feels surreal..like wdym i haven't quitted this fic already (lol touchwood dont wanna jinx it) as always i love to read ur comments so don't hold back stay safe! ~candy \(￣︶￣*\))

[levisrations]

I’ve been in a baby fever mood lately so here’s more Dad! Levi content.

Feeding your baby solids for the first time. Pediatrician gave you the green light that at 6 months kid can start eating solids. You were so excited to make those little meals for your son. Searching online for recipes and buying ingredients. You’re both very adamant your baby gets the best of the best.

You’ve got hemp seeds, chia seeds, all the vegetables and fruits. Levi in particular wants to avoid pre- made baby food. It’s better to do it from scratch. He even got those pouches to put in home made purées for the baby. Shopping has become more expensive since but you both know it’s worth it.

First day of baby led weaning was nerve racking and exciting at the same time. Exciting because you get to cook these mini versions of healthy meals like these tiny muffins made with applesauce and little pizzas. Nerve racking because well, choking hazards. You’re both prepared with CPR certifications since learning you we’re expecting a baby. Can’t be too safe Levi says.

For breakfast, oat pancakes and greek yogurt with some raspberries. You set him in his little high chair with his bib as Levi sets the plate down and makes sure it suctions to the table. Your baby looks at his plate confused at first but immediately has a firm grip on a pancake and puts it in his mouth. You were both watching him like hawks to make sure he doesn’t just shove the whole thing in his mouth

“Is that good bud?” You’re so happy he seems to like the pancakes. “Try a berry” you ask as he puts half a soggy pancake down to try the other option. He immediately grabs a crushed raspberry and virtually inhales it. “Alright slow down little guy” Levi says with slight apprehension in his voice.

Your baby kicks his little feet in excitement. Mental note is made he loves raspberries, Levi might bring a whole carton just for his son.

First meal went smoothly. Baby ate all the berries and only a few scraps of soggy with baby drool pancakes left, overall a success. You wash the dishes as Levi gets the bib off and lifts his son out the chair unto his hip, cleaning the berry stains with a wipe. “Ey hold still you little brat” as your baby fights his father cleaning attempts.

Rest of the morning is spent teaching your baby to say mama or dada. He looked like he was about to start crawling anytime now with the way he scoots on his tummy. Levi seems nauseous at the idea, too many new things in one day for him.

[marriiemeii]

[9:18]

"did you know ketchup is basically a tomato smoothie?" you tell joshua as you lay in bed next to him. the two of you were watching a movie together but you stopped paying attention a while ago. instead, you just stared at your boyfriend who looked ready to fall asleep until you brought up that random question.

you smile happily when you noticed his reaction to your random fact. it was always fun catching him off guard. the different reactions you brought out of him was one of the little things you loved about him.

like now, he looked like a mix of sleepiness and disbelief.

"and why is it a smoothie?" he asks, his eyebrow raised as he looked at you.

you move on to your stomach next to him, lifting your upper body with your forearms planted against the bed. his stare boring into you as you hold off answering his question.

"because ketchup is just a blended up tomato with stuff in it to make it taste good. just like a mango smoothie is a blended mango with yogurt or juice in it," you explain to him. his gaze lazily shifts to the ceiling above him as he thinks about your explanation.

"why are you even thinking about tomatoes?" he asks. "aren’t you tired?"

you shake your head no and place your chin on his chest as you look up at his face. under your chin his chest was firm from working out but plush enough for you to be comfortable. you stare at him until he looks back down at you.

when he sees your staring, he looks into your eyes before smiling at you. he lifts his hand and places it on your head, brushing his fingers through your hair.

you hum in appreciation and close your eyes. the light scratching on your scalp made you melt into him and you could've sworn you almost drooled on him until he broke the silence.

"are you sleeping yet?" he whispered.

you opened one eye to look at him before realizing he was sabotaging you. you swat his hand away before linking your fingers with his own.

"are you trying to get me to stop yapping??" you pout at him.

"of course i am, my little yapper. the yappiest yapper in the world," he says with a sweet smile on his face.

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

Challenges of Raising a 6 Month Old Demon

Rebel Without Pants

...

It was 9 am in your suite at the Hazbin Hotel and you were currently watching your husband and daughter fling themselves and each other out of the small shadow pockets they continued to open in a weird game of cat and mouse wack-a-mole. You let loose a loud sigh of exasperation as Alastor once again caught the small fawn by her tiny hoof and begin threading the pair of cotton pants unto it, only for her to use her own spectral tendrils to yank his tail. He sounded a surprised bleat, while his child wiggled out of his grasp and tossed the clothing onto the ground with a giggle.

"Now see here, young lady!", the tall deer flung a pointed claw in the direction of the grinning diapered demon, "You WILL wear clothes! Or so help me, I will take away your-"

Your husband quickly looked around for something to make his threat credible, but smiled darkly when he eyed a certain container. "Or I will take away your yogurt covered eyes!", he continued to smirk triumphantly at Evangeline's low growl. She had been gifted those treats from her beloved Auntie Rosie from Cannibal Town and they were her favorite snack.

You knew this threat would not go over well with your daughter and could only watch as she tucked her ears back, hissed in static, and narrowed her eyes before darting into another shadow pit. The entire room was, then, painted in darkness as a wary Alastor stood firm in the middle. Waiting for the attack.

His tendrils stood flailing at the ready with different articles of clothing, when, suddenly, he was smacked on the back of his leg by a small, furry ragamuffin. He immediately went to grab his fleeing child before the feeling of weightlessness seized him. The shadows disappeared into the hole your fawn had created, and lured her father into, before you noticed Alastor falling past the tower windows and unto a confused Angel Dust outside. He must've not seen her trap hole with his own shadows covering the entirety of the room, you reasoned and looked down at the laughing spider holding your furious husband like a princess.

Turning around, Evangeline was under the bed trying to open the child proof clasp on her snack container. With a shriek of frustration when she was unable to overpower the magic lock, she threw it down at your feet in a silent request. Unfortunately for her, you were now running late for your meeting with Charlie so you fixed her with a hard stare. At that moment, your mate had made it back up to the tower window and began to coil his muscles and shake his growing antlers. (Many of which sported impaled baby shirts, socks, and pants)

Here we go again. You thought looking at your watch as the small fawn once again reared up at her father from the ground.

"Evangeline Hartfelt!", you spoke with intensity and at once commanded the attention in the room. You almost never raised your voice so the two deer immediately focused on your next words. "I have had enough of this foolishness." You walked forward to pick up the still locked, dented yogurt box and held it out to her. The small fawn's eyes widened with curiosity.

"If you be a good girl and dress properly, you may have your snack.", you fingered the latch open with a precise slowness, "if not, Mommy and Daddy will eat them all!"

The little deer hopped up quickly as you let out a forced evil laugh and brought an eye up to your lips. She allowed Alastor to properly dress her (he actually enjoyed picking out her outfits) with only a few whines when he groomed her fur covered head with his tongue. However, she nuzzled back into his cheek when he softly purred a bit and gently scratched at her tiny antlers.

You smiled and threw 2 of the yogurt eyes in their direction, which they happily caught with their teeth and followed you out the door to FINALLY begin the day.

...

Hey everyone 🙂 been a minute but I had this idea from the other day and wanted to write it really quick (inspired by my own tiny rebel who absolutely refuses to dress in anything but her diaper 😅)

I'm nearly done with the 4th chapter of The Rival and hope to have it out asap

-SSPR

[honeygrahambitch]

Pillow Talks

"Incredible and unheard of." Hannibal commented from his side of the bed, his gaze resting on his phone screen.

Will knew that he was supposed to ask "what?" but he was half asleep already so he could not entertain his almost husband.

"This girl made a whole 2 minute TikTok to explain how she is making her own fruit yogurt." Hannibal replied to the unasked question.

"How dare she?" Will murmured from the other side of the bed, knowing that Hannibal would keep commenting until he would get a response.

"How incapable does one have to be to need a recipe for a fruit yogurt?"

"I don't know, does it have many likes? That would answer your question."

"It has over 10 thousand likes. And saves. Who needs to save a fruit yogurt recipe? I am uninstalling this app."

"I support that." Will said abd turned his back to Hannibal, hoping that he would get the message. He was really trying to go to sleep.

"I just came across a Nara Smith one. I changed my mind, I'm not uninstalling it." Hannibal said. "You know, Will, I could also make tooth paste from scratch for you if you wanted."

"Excuse me?" He lifted his head off the pillow, the statement drawing his attention. "She made what?"

"Not her, her husband actually."

"I beg you to uninstall that app. Your algorithm is fucked."

"Golden retriever puppies." Hannibal said and turned the phone to Will.

"Finally, something cute." Will said as he was suddenly very awake and very focused on Hannibal's phone.

[possibilistfanfiction]

For the caitvi: dog meet cute

[if u have been here a minute u know i try to give every character a border collie bc they're my passion lol HOWEVER. vi + a big rescue pitty is an actual dream come true. i just rly love dogs & force free handling & nurturing of dogs. so here u go, they are my babies]

//

vi is practically vibrating next to you in excitement, which is endearing but a little unsettling as she drives. she'd insisted you take her bronco, because she's convinced the car will immediately be scratched and dirty inside — which isn't even true, and also she's put more work into her car than you ever will any of yours. still, you'd acquiesced without too much arguing — more for fun than anything else — and then gone through the actual items on the checklist the rescue had recommended. you spent the past day making sure there were no holes in the fence and that the gate properly latched; you'd gotten bowls and the food recommended by the vet you'd found — fear free certified, vi had said after her research, proudly showing you the results of a very nice vet clinic near your new house — and a few toys and balls, a snuffle mat, and a cute little toy you can fill with peanut butter or yogurt for him to lick. you'd gotten a ton of training treats and bully sticks, marrow bones and duck feet; you pick out two comfortable beds to put in the living room and your bedroom; vi had liked a pink harness, collar, and 6' lead, which had made you laugh and then kiss her right in the middle of the pet store; you order a long lead to go with it later that night.

so, by all accounts and purposes, you are very ready.

still, vi is acting more nervous than she had when she'd taken her lieutenant's exam a few months ago, more nervous than when you were waiting to hear back about jinx's acceptance to her graduate program, more nervous than the first night you'd really moved into your house and fell asleep on the couch, sated and spent, in front of the fireplace. you'd loved this house for many reasons, but one of the big ones was its beautiful yard: vi has been looking at rescue dogs on her phone for the entire time you've known her.

'i can't believe it's really happening,' she says, again, as she takes the turn onto the street the rescue is located on.

'we're going to have so much fun, and give him such a good home.'

she breathes a sigh out and takes her hand off the gear shift to squeeze yours. you'd brought it up a few weeks ago, maybe looking into a dog, since you had the space, and you lived together now, and you owned the house, rather than having pet restrictions in an apartment. there had been a million excuses she'd offered, all of them poor and all of them because she was just nervous. you know how well you can manage things, how that's a way you're good at showing your love, and you know how gentle and nurturing v's nature is when given the chance.

she parks and you kiss her gently. 'hey, any dog would be lucky to be raised by rich lesbians with no kids.'

it gets her to laugh, finally, her nerves dissipating. 'speak for yourself. i'm not rich.'

you roll your eyes — it's not a secret that you want to get married one day, that you like making sure that vi — and her family — has everything they need, especially since you make enough money through your own work to not need any of your trust fund. 'rich in love.'

she groans but takes your hand anyway, laces your fingers together before you open the door.

the rescue coordinator and trainer meet you in the lobby, smiling, and compliment vi on her treat bag and the collar, harness, and leash set you'd brought. you had applied for the dog the week before, having seen his picture for one second and then showing it to vi, and you'd watched a soft smile grow on her face. you'd gone through a video call interview, and now all that's left is an in-person meet-up to see if a trial adoption period feels good for both of you and the dog.

he's already alone in the little play yard with one of the other volunteers, and you hear vi sniffle next to you, and then laugh, when you look her way, before getting down on her knees.

'hi, atlas,' she says, as you crouch down too, and it doesn't take even a second before the dog — muscular and goofy, with a blocky head, mostly black fur with a few white spots — bounds over to both of you and bowls vi over with how excited he is.

you laugh, and you get out your phone to take a few pictures; vi kisses his head and you rub behind his ears. you understand that it's important, and good, that the rescue does a trial adoption period, but his eyes are a grey-blue and he has a scar above one of them, and after vi throws the ball and you play tug with him a little, he just lies down half in her lap while she scratches his offered tummy — you know that there's no way this dog is ever going back.

'it's a good thing you're, uh, you know... fit,' the trainer says, a little flustered at the obvious muscles and veins of vi's arms in one of her t-shirts, you think, which, okay, you do understand. 'we're working on his leash skills, still, and he's getting so much better! but he's a strong guy.'

you'd, of course, read atlas' bio: he was rescued off the side of the road, alone, starving and sick, and he's spent almost the last two years at the rescue, cared for, of course, but overstimulated. he's loved his field trips, and he's friendly to kids, other dogs, even cats. he's active, park plays and hikes, but he really just wants to cuddle and sleep. mostly, he's been overlooked because he's a strong pit bull with a big bark. vi had immediately wanted him, even if she hadn't quite said so: you'd understood.

the trainer talks you through helping him feel safe as you put his new harness on, but he really doesn't seem to care at all when you offer him some chicken as a reward after. he licks your face and, admittedly, you are kind of in love already. the trainer plays with him while you and vi go inside and fill out the final paperwork, and he seems more subdued when you come back. but, 'you're so smart, huh?' vi says to him, the second he starts getting excited when she takes his leash and walks toward the exit. he starts whining and pulling, but when you get through the door, your hand in vi's, atlas turns around and jumps on both of you a few times. it doesn't bother you, and it makes vi cry, so you don't even try to coax him away with treats: you just let him feel freedom, safe and sound, for the first time.

//

atlas rides calmly in the car on the way home, watching everything out the window in his little dog car hammock, easily tolerating when you'd secured him with the seat belt extension that attached to his harness. jinx, unsurprisingly, has already come over when you get home, and she laughs and falls back on the ground, letting him lick all over her face, when he rams into her in hello. she slips a custom, thank you very much bandana — a lot of neon pink — onto him and kisses his forehead, but she has class, she pouts, so she promises to be over again tomorrow to play with him.

you and vi show atlas around the house, direct him to some toys; vi gives him a few chew options to see which one he'll pick — a beef marrow bone, no surprised there — and then he settles on the bed in the living room and works on his bone for an hour, both of you just smiling and watching from the couch, before he finishes and lumbers over to you, hopping up and burrowing in between you with a sigh.

vi starts to cry again, which makes you start to cry, and you both just sit there, laughing too, while you pet him.

'you have to know that this is, like, you in dog form, right?' you ask eventually.

'a brilliant and sensitive heart behind a strong, rugged exterior? of course.'

she's using humor to deflect — you both know at this point — but you let her get away with it this time.

//

atlas settles in easily, like he was always meant to be yours, and maybe he was. one morning, when vi is on shift, you take him on his long line to your favorite trail just outside the city and just let him walk and sniff for an hour or so, and then sit with you on the patio of your favorite cafe while you have a coffee. he sleeps and says hello when people ask, and, while he still gets so excited he often knocks jinx and vi over still when they get home, he's so gentle greeting strangers that you have to fight back tears. when you take him to the crag a month in, he makes friends with every person there and then gnaws on a bully stick before sleeping the afternoon away in a patch of sun.

for years, since you'd met vi, she'd had a hard time sleeping: you knew why, and you understood it. you'd tried all kinds of things to help with her insomnia and nightmares: therapy, and medication, and different techniques to ground and calm. it's always been a losing battle, though, things getting worse after long, hard shifts where calls had gone bad; oftentimes you'd get home from a full day at work and she hadn't slept at all since she got home from a 24 hour shift that morning: it hasn't been uncommon for her to go thirty hours without any good sleep for as long as you'd known her.

today, you'd been expecting the same thing: dark circles beneath her eyes, exhausted muscles that still can't rest, a painstakingly cooked dinner she'd prepared to, somehow, in her mind, make up for all of it. you'd talked to her on her drive home this morning, her short responses about the call she'd gone on dealing with an apartment fire in her childhood neighborhood last night telling you more than a robust description ever could.

when you walk in, though, the living room is dark, the fireplace mostly embers. it's cold outside, windy and probably going to snow tonight, so usually she would stoke it for you before you get home. there's no smell of dinner, and you don't hear atlas' paws scrambling to come jump on you in hello. for a split second, you're kind of terrified, before you notice the sound of snoring, and then your eyes find them: atlas is almost completely on top of vi on the couch, one of her hands still on his shoulders and the other stretched behind her head. they're both breathing deeply, soft snuffles and sighs, and you almost sink to your knees right then and there. you have your own demons, your own discussions in therapy and fights with your mom and aches in the middle of the night, but vi spent years of her life in the dark, alone, kept from any love or care, being treated like a dangerous animal. you want to marry her; you want jinx to annoy the hell out of you for years; you want a life with her, forever.

so you wipe your tears and put your coat away quietly, put your bag away and set your computer to charge in the office. you'd tentatively made plans to climb with vi after you'd gotten off work, mostly because it helps regulate her nervous system, even if you're both exhausted. but instead, you ease yourself gently onto the coffee table across from the couch and touch her face, then scratch behind atlas' soft ears.

'hello, my darlings.'

vi startles awake, disoriented, but then takes stock of atlas — who seems excited you're home, from the happy thump of his tail, but unwilling to move, far too warm and comfortable — and her eyes meet yours, a little smile sneaking its way onto her face. 'hey, cupcake.'

'it's nearly six.'

'oh. wow.'

'yeah?'

'i've been asleep for, like, five hours, i guess.'

you both almost burst into tears, but you kiss her forehead instead and say, 'shall we order in? movie night? it looks like mr. atlas here doesn't want to give up his prime spot.'

vi rubs her thumb along your cheek, always adoring, always gentle. 'ramen?'

'you drive a hard bargain.'

you don't talk about it further then: you go change into a pair of shorts and one of vi's sweaters, and atlas pouts but makes room for you on the couch too, eventually resting his head in your lap, and you put in your typical ramen order on your phone before vi picks a movie you'd both wanted to watch and had missed in theaters. she gets up, eventually, to open a bottle of wine for you and grab a beer for herself, and to put a new log on and then stoke the fire, before curling back up into your side.

'you know, i've thought about his name.'

'yeah?'

'jinx has come up with, like, seven thousand nicknames, some of which he responds to because she feeds him cheese all the time.'

vi rolls her eyes, but you laugh.

'but, you know. the weight of the world, and all that.'

'like i said, you in dog form.'

vi shakes her head but it becomes common occurrence, as the weeks and months and years go on, to come home to her after a shift, held down by altas, happily resting with her: a peace that's hard-found and even harder-earned, a companion for it all.

[twiceastasty]

Berry Chocolate Muffins

Once you start baking with whey and cultured dairy, you’ll find a place for them in everything from biscuits to cake. Learn to make Berry Chocolate Muffins.

As much as I enjoy baked goods, I don’t really have a sweet tooth. My favorite pastries minimize the sugar and boost the flavor, so I incorporate some unexpected ingredients into my recipes. One of those ingredients appears in the recipe I share this week in my Twice as Tasty column for the Flathead Beacon. I make Berry Chocolate Muffins with the whey left from draining Homemade Yogurt to thicken…

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Kiddo's First Middle-East/Mediterranean Feast

So I've been on Kiddo Duty this past few nights, and I asked her if she had ever tried any Middle-Eastern/Mediterranean food, and she said she'd never tried it...she's 14 now. I thought it might be a good time to introduce her to a new food!

I kept it to old favorites the first two nights, I roasted some chicken the first night, and last night I made her her favorite pizza (mushrooms & red onion), but tonight I figured I would go all-out and give her A Culinary Adventure she wouldn't forget, and she LOVED it!

Spent the past couple days making Hummus, Felafel, Tzatziki and Tabouli Salad all from scratch (I have been making them all for well over 20 years now, so I know what I'm doin' ;-).

Here are the recipes I use...all authentic. The Felafel is from a friend's Lebanese grannny, and the Tabbouleh is from his aunt. The Hummus I learned to make 30 years ago when I did my cafe in Northern NM, one of the artists there taught me...an old hippie recipe they'd been using since the '60s. Used to sell it with chips!

The Felafel

1 cup dried garbanzos, soaked in cold water in fridge overnight

1 large yellow onion (NOT "sweet"!)

1 big bunch flat-leaf Italian parsley

1 entire pod garlic, 2 if they're puny.

2 teaspoons salt/1 teaspoon pepper

2 teaspoons cumin

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 cup flour

Get your food processor out, it's the only way.

Drain the cold-soaked garbanzos, into the processor bowl they go.

Bash/shake the peels off all the garlic cloves. Every one. Even the little suckers in the middle. Into the bowl. Cut the onion into 1/8ths, put it into the bowl.

Cut the "handle" of stems off the parsley...put the tops in the bowl.

Add your powders/spices.

Pulse about ten pulses, stop, scrape, repeat. Keep pulsing and scraping until you get a consistant texture...wet sand with green bits in it, but not too fine. We don't want mush. We want to sculpt little balls with this.

Cover tightly and refrigerate overnight.

When ready to cook, heat a quart of vegetable oil (this was soybean) in a deep but small-diameter pot, set your burner to medium hi-heat, use a thermometer to get an accurate temp...you want 350-355 degrees.

Take a tablespoon in one hand, scoop up enough felafel to form a golf-ball size ball. Use your other hand to shape the mix into a ball, using the tablespoon as a "jig" to help you get it as round as possible. Drop gently from the spoon into the hot oil. Don't dally, get the next ball going. Fry up to four balls at once. If you keep your oil at a consistent temp, you will have the best results. They will sink and stick for a second or two, but should eventually loosen up and float the to the top. Let them fry until a dark golden brown. I made a double batch today and it was about 2 dozen felafel balls. They keep well, reheat well, you can even re-fry them to get them crispy again, if you want to. Versatile and healthy as fuck. Great for snacking, dipped in...

The Tzatziki

2 1/2 cups Fage 5% super-thick Greek Yogurt. No other kind.

1 large cucumber

6 large cloves garlic, chopped fine

1/4 cup very fruity/strong Olive Oil

1 teaspoon red wine vinegar

2 teaspoons salt/1 pepper

Spoon your yogurt into a mixing bowl. Set aside.

In another bowl, grate the entire cucumber, skins and all. Use the big hole side of the grater. Sprinkle the 2 teaspoons of salt over the grated cucumber and stir until you begin to get green liquid. Let sit while you bash/peel/chop the garlic.

Add the garlic to the mixing bowl with the yogurt. Pour in the olive oil and add the red wine vinegar and pepper. Strain the cucumber to get the liquid out...press your hand against them while they're in the strainer to press as much out as you can. Then add them to the bowl.

With a large spoon, mix everything together until blended well. Adjust salt/pepper to taste. Perfect with Felafel, of course, but a great dip with just about any kind of finger food.

The Hummus

4 cups dried garbanzos, plus reserve the cooking water.

16 oz. Tahini (Sesame Paste). I always try to get a thick kind, but it's one of the least consistent products. You always have to stir it to get the kind of texture you want here, actually using the paddle attachment on the stand mixer to stir it up is a good idea. Do that and refrigerate the stirred product immediately.

3 entire pods of garlic/bashed/peeled.

Juice of 4 lemons

Salt

In a large stockpot, boil the garbanzos in plenty of water, keeping in mind that they SWELL when they cook, so don't skimp on the water overhead. Boil 'em for at least three hours. You shouldn't have to add water, when you're done you should have a few inches of cooking liquid still over the top of the cooked beans. When they are cooked, take them off the stove and allow to cool for a bit.

Bash and peel your garlic cloves.

In your food processor bowl, put 3 cups of the cooked garbanzos, one pod's worth of the garlic, juice of 1 lemon, 2 teaspoons salt, and about 6 oz of the Tahini. Turn the processor on and let it gin until you start to see hummus. Add as much of the cooking liquid (up to a 1/2 cup) depending on how thick/thin you like your hummus. I like mine thick, so I only use about a 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid. Adjust the lemon juice level to your own liking. Dribble some olive oil in at the end, just before you stop processing.

Take the spatula and put the finished hummus in a bowl, and then go back and do the next 3 cups of garbanzos without rinsing the bowl. Just keep goin'. This generally takes about 3 batches to do totally. Keeps forever. Keep it sealed well in the fridge. Great dip with chips/crackers/hot flour tortillas if you don't have pita.

The Tabouli (or Tabbouleh, if you prefer)

1/2 cup cracked bulgur wheat (a dark, red wheat berry that's been cracked in a mill...you will prolly have to resort to Amazon...I did.)

2 large bunches of flat-leaf Italian Parsley

1 large bunch fresh mint

5 Roma Tomatoes, chopped

2 large bunches green onions, sliced thin, greens included.

1/2 cup fruity, strong-flavored olive oil

1/2 cup lemon juice

1 teaspoon salt/1 pepper

Soak the bulgur in cold water for 15 minutes, until it swells to twice its volume. Pour into a strainer to drain. Set aside.

Cut the stems off the parsley and mint and chop fine in the food processor.

Wash and trim the root ends of the green onions, then slice the two bunches all the way to the very ends, greens included, as thinly as you can. Use your sharpest knife for this and for the tomatoes.

Quarter the tomatoes, then cut into small chunks with a sharp knife.

Take a small jar that will hold about a cup's worth of liquid, and put the olive oil and lemon juice in, along with the salt and pepper, and cover and shake until blended.

Put all the ingredients into a large bowl in this order:

The green things all first, then the drained bulgur. Mix until distributed. Then put the tomatoes in and stir again. Finally, add the dressing. Take a large spoon and mix everything together until uniformly distributed. Seal tightly and refrigerate for at least an hour, several, preferably, to allow the flavors to blend.

---------

This is fairly labor intensive, even using the powertools, but it makes a *tremendous* amount of healthy food that keeps well. I'm just glad kiddo loved it! That makes it all worthwhile.

[tinyraptorhands]

Just A Spark pt. 6

-Its Times Like This...-

"Oh, Yuki! I could never leave you!"

"You must leave me, Jin! I can't be what you want. What you need!"

"And I need to barf." You said, stretched out on your couch as you watched the J-drama play out on the TV. A bag of shrimp chips sat on the ground as your hand stayed in the bag, the blue of the television screen lighting up your small apartment. You sipped your Pocari Sweat, and capped it as you proceeded to watch the two actors furiously make out under a moonlit sky.

Gross.

Why were you even watching this? Oh, right. Anything was better than what was currently playing on seemingly every channel.

The Hero Rankings for the quarter of the year.

You didn't feel like hearing about anything hero-related for a while, all things considered.

You burped, rolling off your couch gracelessly, your underpants riding up your butt.

Today was a Sunday. Which meant for you-hoodie and panties on, and being a lazy sonuvagun. (Thats what your father called you when you went full potato like this.) As you flopped to the ground, you sighed. You stared at the ceiling, that stupid heart shaped water stain mocking you.

It was times like this you found yourself reflecting.

On what could be.

You ran a hand over your face, groaning. Things weren't supposed to turn out like this, and yet here you were-with a soul mate.

A egotistical, grumpy, hot headed prick of a soul mate.

"...such an asshole." You muttered. How Mai could even love her grandson, you didn't know how. You rolled over, getting up.

You walked lazily to the kitchen, scratching your head as you went to the humming fridge. As you opened it, your eyes squinted at the foods you had bought. Some eggs, milk, tofu, a suspiciously wilting bunch of leeks, some strawberry yogurt and a tall bottle of ice green tea.

....

Apparently, grocery shopping was on today's agenda.

You groaned, and withdrew your phone from your hoodie pocket. Two in the afternoon. Traffic shouldn't be too crazy, what with everyone probably parked on their asses in front of their own tvs or smart devices.

You went over to the bathroom to freshen up. It didnt take too long. As you yanked up some jeans over your legs, you opened the curtains to the small balcony window. The city greeted you below, just as it always did. You opened the sliding glass doors, and stepped out onto the concrete balcony.

The air was a bit crisper than usual, and the skies were overcast with looming rain clouds.

Right. Laundry. You looked over at the laundry hanger, sun dried socks, and some other intimates hung from its clips.

You plucked off said laundry from the hanging clips, tossing them into the empty laundry basket underneath. The chimes you installed along with the circular hanger rang prettily in the lazy breeze.

As you scooped up your clean laundry, you looked out at the city horizon and smiled softly. The light breeze tousled your hair.

This was the peace you craved. Having a soul mate like Katsuki Bakugo? You would loose all that for sure.

Right?

Katsuki huffed as he sat on his own couch, turning off the quarterly ranks. He hadn't gone up a rank, sitting at the fifth rank comfortably.

Izuku had gone from the sixth rank to the fourth. Damn.

The nerd passed him. He smirked.

It gave him a little thrill, his friend had caught up, and skipped over him in a matter of months.

Just as he thought he would.

Good. Made things interesting. This was why he had made the grind from rank number fifteen to ten ranks over. He pulled out his phone, texting his old childhood rival.

"Game on, Izuku."

He slipped his phone into his pocket, only for it to ring. He withdrew it again, and huffed.

It was his mother, Mitsuki.

"Whadda you want, old hag?"

"Is that any way to talk to your mother, brat?? Anyway-I need your help. You need to come with me to go grocery shopping."

"Haaah? Why the hell do I need to do that?" He huffed, though he began to get ready.

"I get good deals when I mention your'e my kid. And theres a huge sale on rice today. So I need your strength and your hero influence." She sounded resolute-as if she were going to war. Katsuki rolled his eyes.

"So...yer saying I need to go up against a bunch of housewives and wrestle with them to get you a damn bag of rice?" He said, deadpanned.

"You questioning me and my methods?"

He groaned. "Just order it online-"

"I ain't gonna get the deal if I do that-besides, theres a raffle I can enter if I buy three bags of frozen mochi-"

"Ugh, a raffle?" He ran his hand over his face as he leaned against the marble of his kitchen counter. He placed his phone in the crook of his neck as he pulled on his black denim pants. "What kind a raffle-"

"A chance to win a trip to Okinawa! And theres some kind of All Might memorabilia-"

Katsuki's eyes lit up. He gripped the phone again as he grabbed his keys from the counter. "Fine, fine. M'coming with the car."

"Thats my boy. Be here in half an hour." She hung up, and he sighed.

His mother knew exactly what she was doing, mentioning the chance to win some All Might merch.

As he went to the parking garage, he couldn't help but wonder.

Had you seen the rankings?

The pleather creaked as he slid into the driver's seat. He didn't know why he thought that.

He shook his head, and huffed. He pressed the start button, the radio playing soft classical music.

You seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Stupid..." he muttered to himself as he rolled out of the parking garage and into the streets of Musutafu.

"And that's when I told your father to send that design over to marketing! I swear, the man needed to grow a pair! He's the head of the designer's section, so he better act like it! At least before he retires!" Mitsuki went on about her life, telling Katsuki about his father's work, the neighbors, his grandparents, something Izuku's mom said, etc. He was pretty sure he drowned out most of her inane chatter, his brain elsewhere.

Unfortunately for him, it was mostly on you.

He didn't even consciously think about you-it just...would happen.

A dog and his owner walked by his apartment?

Did you like dogs?

Some fangirls while on patrol?

Did you have a favorite hero?

His mother's prattle?

Did you have a mom who talked your ears off, too?

And each time he had to mentally pinch himself.

He hated this. He knew the bond the two of you would have would only get worse with denial.

Some people say that's how heartbreak really killed. By denying a soul mate.

Bullshit.

People lived without knowing their soulmates existed before-and could certainly exist not acknowledging the bond.

So...why start now?

As he rolled into the market's parking lot, he felt a familiar tug in his gut.

Odd.

Its not like you were here...

He hoped.

He probably just ate something bad. He clicked his car remote to lock up as his mother began to tell him her plan of attack.

Stupid stale shrimp chips. He'd have to get some while he was here...

"Alright, you get a cart. The rice bags should be right up front, like I said." Mitsuki said, looking through her purse. "And be on your best behavior."

"Tch. What am I? Seven??" He groused, inserting a 100 yen coin into the cart lock. It unlocked, and he pulled it out of the other carts.

"You certainly act like it sometimes." Mitsuki grumbled, and then held up a few vouchers. "Ah. Here we are. Okinawa, here I come...!"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean to tell me you already got the vouchers for buying shitty frozen mochi?"

"The more I buy, the more chances I'll get! And I'm gonna get that vacation!" She pumped her fist, the fire in her eyes much like his own.

"...Whatever." He pushed the cart alongside her. "Let's get this over with..."

The bike purchase was a good idea. It was satin white, with tiny gold and navy star embellishments. It even had a white wire basket to hold any goodies in on the front, with a silver shiny bell to ring. You coasted to a stop at the large supermarket, locking your bike up at the bike rack. You hopped off, and suddenly felt a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

...Gas?

No, this felt....familiar. You frowned, taking your purse from the basket, along with a few reusable bags.

Nah. It couldn't be.

...could it? You rolled your eyes. "Stop being paranoid, (y/n)." You said to yourself. "Probably just gas."

As you entered the supermarket, you saw a bunch of women at a large display of rice.

Did you need rice?

You looked down at your phone at the list you typed up.

Nope. All good on that front.

As you walked by, the feeling grew. You clutched your bags to your torso as you scooped up a shopping basket. 'Note to self,' you thought, 'do not engage a Japanese housewife during a sales event.' You chuckled to yourself, trying to distract yourself from the pulling sensation now throbbing delightfully in your guts.

As you turned, you saw the snack aisle.

You looked down at your list.

Shrimp chips!

You quickly went to the rows of different chips, trying not to get them all at once. The urge to try different flavors was strong-but you knew better.

Besides, you had the rest of your life here. You definitely had all the time in the world to try them all.

You spotted the spicy shrimp chips on the bottom shelf, the cute little shrimp mascot with a pepper on its head.

'SO SPICY!' It said in bubbly kanji.

Those were new. And they seemed to be out of your regular flavor.

You licked your lips, and crouched down to grab them-

Only for another hand to go for them as well.

"Huh?" You blinked.

"Hah?" A familiar voice said at the same time.

You looked up.

He looked down.

Katsuki freakin' Bakugo.

The pull turned into a throbbing inside your whole body. Just like all the times before.

Of course he had to be here.

Of course.

-Brought To You By Shrimpy's Shrimp Chips!-

@crimsonrubie

[novemquadragintillion]

I take it back!!!!! 3 days in and I already miss every single crunchy and chewy food ever. Everything is bad 😂😂

Got my wisdom teeth removed, i feel like fish. It was scary in the beginning but wasn't as bad as i thought

[hannieween]

bad idea | backstage series | l.sm

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

♡︎ pairings: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: angst, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin,fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 10.8k

↣ part 1 – part 2 – navi post

₊🎧: i.m - more ♡︎ | kiss of fire - woodz

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: multiple mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, smut with plot, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, multiple unprotected sex scenes, unprotected sex in public spaces (1), doggystyle, creampie, oral sex (f, m), soft-edging, a bit of praise kink (f) drama | i wrote this at 3am so sorry if there's any mistakes weird time jumps in narration again sorry

part 3

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable.

You found support with your hands on your knees, breathing hard under the scorching bright midday sunlight.

"I'm calling it," Seungkwan announced, he was pretending to look for your pulse with two fingers under your jaw. "She's dead. Or will be. Soon. I give her twenty two seconds."

"Shut up, Kwan," you laughed brushing his hand away. "I'm just out of practice, okay?"

"Well, no shit, dummy," he laughed. "You've been spending too much time with your boyfriend now, you barely have time for volley."

His white sneakers came into your view, so bright under the sunlight that almost blinded you. Seungkwan patted you in the back twice, and walked off.

"Yeah, that and the fact that we've been going for hours," you stood upright. "Can we go? I really need to eat something otherwise I'll truly die."

He scoffed and brushed sweat from his brow with a towel. "Fine. But you're buying."

"What? Why me?" you whined, still breathless. "It's your turn!"

He turned to the bleachers to grab his stuff, and you followed. "Consider it as pay up for standing me up last tuesday."

"I've told you already that I'm sorry for that!" you whine again when you grab your duffel bag and follow him away from the volleyball court.

"Buy me coffee and I'll think about it."

Seungkwan wasn't angry at you. You knew that. He just liked playing with your head because he knew you still felt guilty for standing him up.

So you bought him iced coffee and a bowl of yogurt parfait.

"Now, you're trying to get under my good graces again," he said feigning dignity, lifting his chin up and eyeing you up and down.

"Well, I truly am sorry for standing you up," you said as you dug into your bowl. "I know I should've texted. I was... busy."

Your best friend saw your cheeks flush. "Oh, keep the details to yourself, please," he said, threatening to throw his plastic spoon at you. "I don't wanna know what you two were doing."

Last tuesday you woke up to find your friend, Seokmin, lying in bed next to you.

He was lying face down, his muscly arms around his head and hugging the pillow his face was half buried in, your lavender bed sheets covered him up to his lower back, leaving his bare back to your view.

On his back were pink scratch marks that you had made on him the night before. Then you understood the fixation he had for the hickeys he gave you on your neck.

You resisted the urge to touch him. To use your fingertips to connect lines between his moles and freckles of his face. Even asleep, he looked beautiful.

Silently, you grabbed the first piece of clothing from the floor and left your bedroom in search for your phone. The scent of Seokmin's plaid shirt coated you when you put in on closing a few buttons.

As you made your way out the bedroom, you noticed your muscles blissfully sore and tired from the day before. So in your search, you took the opportunity to drink water and take something for the pain.

Your jeans were tossed on one side of your couch, and right there you found your phone just a few minutes before your first alarm went off at 7 am.

An hour later, you had prepared breakfast and coffee when Seokmin emerged from your room, wearing his jeans and putting his white tank top on. His face and hair were slightly wet, which you assumed he had washed himself before joining you in the kitchen.

"Morning," you chirped.

You saw him glance your body up and down, noticing you were wearing his grey plaid shirt.

"G'morning," he pressed his lips in a smile.

"Are you hungry?" you asked with a shaky voice because for some reason you felt nervous under his gaze.

"Famished," he muttered.

You pushed a plate full of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon onto the counter of your tiny kitchen, which had two stools that already came with the lease for your otherwise mostly empty apartment.

Seokmin eyed you, a sweet smile on his lips. "I feel spoiled," he quipped and sat on a stool. "How can I repay you?"

"It's just breakfast. Chill," you laughed and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Still," he said while munching on his toast. "The next one's on me."

"What, you'll cook for me?" you asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "I'll take you somewhere you won't die from food poisoning."

When you saw his sweet smile, a sharp pain tugged in your stomach. He was so cute that it gave you the same feeling you felt whenever you saw a squishy so cute you wanted to squeeze it.

You realized that you too had a smile on your face while you ate breakfast with him.

When Seokmin helped you clean the kitchen, he sang while doing so. It was usual for him, whenever he had a new role he did that, he would just break into song loudly and perfectly. He was known for doing that and it turned into a bit when you were in uni. The menace walking in the halls before class, singing loudly at 8 in the morning.

But you liked it. You've always liked it even when he only sang the same lyrics over and over again every five minutes. Each time was better than the one before it.

Now as he had to rehearse the songs for his role, he sang them from start to finish while you finished doing the dishes. Like your personal little show.

His voice was warm, it was like sunshine warming your chest after a cold cloudy morning.

He was sitting on a stool, scrolling through his phone while still humming some tune. You had finished doing the dishes already and he noticed, lifting his head to see you.

You had been quiet for a while, and it wasn't just because you were listening to him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

You approached where he was sitting and leaned on the kitchen counter next to him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, deciding where to begin.

"I uh... never thanked you for what you did when my ex was talking to me," you breathed. "I didn't know how to get out of that situation and you helped me. Thank you for that."

He blinked and put his phone down. "You don't have to thank me for that," his brow furrowed a bit. "Even if I wasn't your fake boyfriend, I would have done it."

"Well, I felt like saying thanks because it meant a lot to me," you mumbled, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt that fit you a bit too large.

"You never told me what he said to you," he reminded you.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "He says he's happy that I moved on. And that he wants to put everything behind us," you chewed on the inside of your lip. "He never once said he was sorry, though."

"Does an apology from him mean anything to you?" Seokmin mused, "I mean, given all the shit he has said and done to you."

"It doesn't," you put in simply. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore. But I'm still angry that I didn't have the guts to tell him that."

Seokmin's eyes darkened. "It's not worth it," he muttered. "I don't think he deserves your forgiveness."

That made you smile. "That's a bit extreme."

"I mean it. He's an asshole. He broke your heart," if he didn't look serious before, he did now.

Your lips quivered a little bit when you tried to hold your laugh in.

"Don't laugh," he muttered with pouting lips.

"You're cute when you're angry," you laughed.

"I'm not angry," he countered, still pouting his lips but then he broke into a smile.

"Bullshit, Lee Seokmin," you smiled, landing a soft slap on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he muttered and grabbed your hand with his as it landed on his skin.

Then he yanked your hand towards his body, pulling you between his legs as he was still sitting on the stool, now you were face to face, the counter digging at your back.

"You're such a tease, do you know that?" he muttered with a playful smile, before capturing your lips with his.

Hands gripped your hips and after squeezing once he decided that it wasn't enough so he dipped them under his plaid shirt, finding your bare skin with a groan.

"I like how you look with my stuff on," he growled before crushing his mouth on yours again, tongues lapping and sinking his teeth on your lips.

Then he stood up from the stool, pushing it back as his hands on your hips lifted you up and took you to the bedroom. You let out a yelp when your back hit your bed, but as soon as his lips found yours again you immediately wrapped your legs around him.

His left hand made his way to the base of your head, grabbing your hair to pull your head back. A moan left your lips as he dipped his head to kiss your sensitive neck, he had made hickeys there so he was now kissing them softly.

The other hand was placed on your hip, under his shirt. He traced circles on your skin softly, sending shivers down your body.

"Seokmin," you gasped when his tongue slid on the crook of your neck.

"Mmm?" he hummed in your ear. "Want me to stop?"

The question wasn't genuine. It sounded gentle on his voice, but you knew he was taunting you. You muttered some incoherencies under your breath, you didn't even know why you called his name but sure as hell you didn't want him to stop.

"Mm? I didn't catch that," he muttered.

"Do that again, please," you whimpered.

A sigh brushed your collarbones and you could tell he was smiling when he found the sensitive spot on your neck again and planted a wet kiss on it before lapping your already tingling skin with his tongue.

That drew a moan out your mouth. And suddenly you were too conscious of all the noise you've been making.

But Seokmin's fingers pulled the shirt you were wearing up to reveal the lower half of your body. He kissed you sweetly on your sternum, all the way down to the band of your panties.

You noticed that he ignored your chest area, but didn't think too much about it. Two of his fingers came down to your clothed pussy, feeling that the fabric of your underwear was already wet in your arousal.

You jolted at the touch, even if he wasn't really touching you. "Seokmin, please. Stop teasing me."

He deposited one chaste kiss on your mouth. "We're going to have to make this quick," he said quickly. "I don't have much time."

Then he broke away and stood from the bed, your legs falling on the mattress as you watched him take off his tank top and jeans. You followed suit and begun to undo the buttons of his plaid shirt.

He patted one of your hands with his. "Stop that," he muttered. Then he removed your panties and tossed them away.

You watched as he knelt down before your bed. He was just wearing his underwear, his cock so hard that it was pressing against the dark fabric. Seeing him kneeling after you on your bedroom floor did something to you, it made you salivate, widen your eyes, it made your core throb with anticipation.

And before you knew what was coming, he yanked you down on your bedsheets grabbing you by your legs. So now your ass was by the border of the mattress, and he was between your thighs.

"Put your legs on my shoulders," he muttered softly.

When you did so, he ran a finger down your core, and now you held in a breath. "You have the prettiest pussy. Have I told you that?"

You felt your cheeks flush, not knowing what to answer really.

But he was wasting no time. Rolling up the shirt to your belly button, he placed his hands on your lower belly, pressing down gently at the same time he dipped his head down on your core.

Soon you forgot about not being loud. You rolled your eyes and arched your back, moaning loudly.

Starting by lapping on your folds, Seokmin moved his head up and down to lick you fully. The tip of his tongue traced a circle around your clit, before sucking on it. And as if testing what made you scream louder, he also pressed his tongue flatly on your clit and moved his head.

You felt your legs tense up, and grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, trying to wriggle your hips against his face desperately but the hands on your belly pressed down with more strength restrained you completely.

He repeated the same process, licking, sucking and teasing your clit. To whatever he did, you wouldn't stop moaning his name, pleading for him to not stop.

Until you realized that he was edging you. Whenever you felt closer to your release, he'd notice it and change to either just licking your folds, or sucking your clit, or tracing circles around it.

"Seokmin," you breathed. "Let me cum, please."

He just hummed in response, as if he were pondering on it while he continued teasing your cunt. His tongue came up to your clit, and as he did, his eyes landed on your face.

A groan came out through your gritted teeth and you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly. The tension in your core was almost unbearable.

"Seokmin," your fingers tangled in his soft copper hair. "Please. Just let me-ugghh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck."

He continued sucking on your clit, without changing in pace or movement, he sucked while moving his head up and down ever so slightly over and over, sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you, hard. You felt your body tremble as it took you in erratic waves. It left you breathless and you had closed your eyes so tightly that when you opened them again, you had to blink a few times to regain focus.

Small kisses landed on your mound, and then made their way back to your belly. You felt exhausted, but still pulled him into a sloppy wet kiss when he climbed back on the bed. He motioned you to move back to the centre of the bed and as you did, he planted wet kisses on your face.

A chuckle was muffled by your mouth when your fingers tugged clumsily at the band of his underwear. He took them off and climbed back, his body hovering closely on top of you.

"Should I take the shirt off?" you asked, feeling that it was weird that he hadn't taken off of you yet.

"Leave it on," he muttered at the same time he leaned down and placed one elbow next to your head.

"Why?" your brow furrowed.

Your head was within his hand's reach, so he dug his fingers in your hair and placed a kiss on your chin.

"I want to fuck you in it."

You didn't think about it further. You knew it might be a possessive thing. But just as you liked the scratch marks on his back and the hickeys you had on your neck, you liked the idea of him fucking you wearing his shirt.

"Is that okay?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Yeah," your brow furrowed. "I'm okay with everything you give me."

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. It shocked you a little that you even find it arousing to see him smile while having sex.

"You'll let me do anything to you?" he muttered, capturing your lips with his briefly.

"Anything," you nodded eagerly. You grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it to your core. Earning another soft chuckle from him. You thought he'd chastise you again about being impatient but he didn't say anything about it.

He didn't warn you this time, his cock was already aligned with your core so he just started sinking in. You pushed your knees back, lifting your feet from the mattress and thus angling your hips for him. He groaned and dropped his head on the crook of your neck.

Your hands held onto his naked shoulders as his hips dipped in a few shallow thrusts and you stopped biting your lip when he was fully inside you.

"God," you whimpered. "So fucking big."

He had a light smile on his lips when he found your lips to give you a few tentative kisses. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed and pointed a finger at him. "Just don't edge me this time."

He started thrusting on you without any warning again. "Don't be a tease, then," he placed a chaste kiss on your lower lip. "Can you do that?"

His thrusts landed so deep inside you that you let out a cry. "Yes," you replied without much thinking.

"Yes, what?" he muttered while grazing his teeth across your chin.

"I won't be a tease," you said as you let out a strangled moan when his thrusts became more unrestrained, slamming on you.

"Good girl," he whispered before his lips slid in yours.

The room flooded with the sounds of skin slapping together along with your loud moans that slowly would turn into gasps.

Seokmin watched you intently. There was something in his eyes, you couldn't quite tell what it was. But you thought that he was tense and you concluded that he was probably trying to get this done quickly.

You moved your hands to cup his face. The sleeves of his shirt were so long that covered your arms up to your knuckles. You pulled him into a hot kiss of teeth clashing and groans from both you and him.

"God," you sighed when you pulled your head back to the bed, feeling your body sink into a wave of pleasure.

Seokmin dropped his head next to yours, his face burying in your hair lying in the crook of your neck. You could hear his strangled low moans in your ear.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered with a tense voice.

You nibbled at the soft skin of his shoulder, caressing his back over the scratch marks you'd left the previous night. Seokmin was breathing harder on your neck, and you were tempted to tell him to just let go. But then he pulled out, his hips retracting from your fully.

A shiver ran down your spine at the loss of warmth and him inside you. But you didn't move, didn't touch him. With a groan, he visibly shuddered and waited for a few seconds.

Before you could say something, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and deposited open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Turn around, baby," he muttered in a strangled voice.

Seokmin sat back on his heels and when you did as he asked, he grabbed your hips with his hands, propping you up on your elbows and knees on the bed. You squealed at the roughness with which he grabbed you, but you didn't complain. You liked it.

Feeling his hands move from your hips to your lower back made you angle yourself in anticipation. Moving the fabric of his shirt up, he pressed a hand gently on your back before he eased himself in. You moaned loudly at the feeling of having him deeper in you and you heard him hiss.

His hands moved from your back and he placed them on the bed, soon you felt his back on yours as he pounded his hips against your backside hard enough you knew it would leave bruises. You heard his breath hitched next to your ear and then he groaned.

"Seokmin," you whined and shut your eyes tightly, trying to savour the feeling of him being inside you as much as you could.

Seokmin was panting behind you between the small kisses he left on the back of your neck. "Cum for me, baby," he whispered.

You slid a hand between your thighs, your fingers rubbing your clit to reach your release faster. Suddenly you let your face bury on the pillow, thus angling your hips towards him even more, which earned a groan from him. It only took a couple of thrusts from him to achieve what he asked.

The pillow muffled the loud sounds that were coming out of your mouth, and your hand grabbed at the corners of it while the other rubbed your clit sloppily.

The orgasm shook your body so hard, it had you squirming and grabbing at the sheets until you were reduced to strangled sounds and panting.

"Fuck," he groaned behind you and hearing his voice so taut in pleasure made your body respond with a shiver.

Then his hands were on your hips again, his thrusts became shallow and fast as he rolled the shirt up your back uncovering it completely and before you knew it, he pulled out. A soft groan resounded behind you when warm cum landed on your ass and lower back.

You felt your skin prickle at the sensation of his cum on your back. But you waited, trying not to move but your limbs were shaking, breathing loudly against your pillow.

"Don't move. I'm going to get something to clean you up," Seokmin said climbing off the bed.

Soon he was returning to clean your back. "Done," he muttered and patted you in the ass lightly, making you yelp in surprise.

Slowly, you let your body drop on the bed sheets, limbs shaking badly, panting loud enough to make you feel embarrassed. You rolled over and thought for a moment that Seokmin would lie next to you to catch his breath with you.

But he just leaned towards you to kiss your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. "You're always so good to me, baby," he muttered.

A warm feeling overwhelmed you. Your skin was bumpy from a mix of the frenzy and from Seokmin's warm compliment.

"I thought you were going to be quick," your voice was hoarse when you spoke again as he made his way out of your bedroom.

"Are you complaining?" he called back, and you could imagine he was smiling.

"No," you mumbled, but he was out of earshot.

You heard the shower running and you groaned.

"Come on. Let's get cleaned up," you heard him say and before you could move, he was taking you in his arms.

"Oh my god," you whined. "I can get there on my own."

You opened your eyes to see him smiling. "Let me take care of you," he mumbled as he set you down on the bathroom floor. "Arms up."

His shirt came off your body easily. And then you were standing under the stream of water.

"Was that okay? Was I too hard?" he asked as soon as he joined you in the shower.

"I'm fine. I like it," you hummed.

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"When you're a bit rough with me," you muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He pressed his lips in a smile, showing his small dimple under the side of his mouth. "I know. I heard. Pretty sure your neighbours heard, too."

A hand landed on his chest, hitting him softly. "Shut up, Seokmin," you laughed.

"I like that you're loud," he shrugged.

"I know," you quipped. "I also noticed."

Grinning, he rolled his eyes and continued washing his body. He was lifting his arms up to wash his hair, and you saw him as the water ran down on his face with his eyes closed, his mouth parted a bit when he tilted his head back towards the stream of water.

The sunlight that came from the small window up in the bathroom clashed with the stream of water, thus painting a rainbow between Seokmin and you.

Your stomach twisted a bit.

When you returned to your bedroom, Seokmin was already half dressed. A travel toothbrush which he kept on his backpack he took for rehearsals, was hanging on his mouth.

He raised a hand at you and you threw his plaid shirt at him, which he caught gracefully and quickly put on. Then he went back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

"You should bring some of your clothes," you suggested when he came back to your bedroom.

Seokmin lifted his head to see you, then averted his gaze with a furrowed brow. "Uh..."

"If you want, I mean," you shrugged. "I don't mind. Plus, it could save you the effort for next time, y'know?"

"Sure, I'll keep it in mind," he replied, but there was something in his tone that wasn't really convincing. You decided not to push it.

He took his things from the nightstand and walked up to you.

"Sorry, I have to go. I'm already late."

You were about to reply to him that you were okay with his abrupt leave, but then he planted a kiss goodbye on your mouth. It was so quick that it made you stutter, and you almost assumed that Seokmin didn't initially mean to do that when you saw his alarmed eyes and quickly left your room.

It was fast, but it showed a lot of intimacy to you. Seokmin didn't normally kiss you outside sex. He only did it whenever you acted like a fake couple.

"Bye," you mumbled, but the door of your apartment was already slamming shut.

You sat on the edge of your bed, absentmindedly touching your lips with your fingers when your phone buzzed. In the back of your mind, you thought that you might have earned a noise complaint from your neighbours.

But looking at the screen, you groaned.

It was a text message from Seungkwan, you had stood him up.

A noise complaint would've been better.

"Are you there?" Seungkwan asked, pulling you out of your train of thought.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" you mumbled. Seungkwan had already finished eating his food. You were barely halfway through.

"I said," he was looking at something at his phone screen. "Are you going to be at Minghao's dinner party this saturday?"

"Yes, I think I can make it," you replied. "Maybe I can ask Jae to cover me."

He shook his head. "He's already covering me."

"Umm, I'll ask around, but I'll be there."

"Good. Now, can we go?" he set his phone down and looked at you. "We're going to be late for our shift. And you take forever to finish your food."

"Okay, okay, let's go. But we're even, right?"

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but break into a smile.

The hickeys on your neck had all healed. You had been concealing them, either with makeup or by wearing turtlenecks and scarves. Given the demands of your profession, where you had to protect your vocal cords by keeping your chest covered, nobody really asked about the extra coverage.

But as you looked in the mirror, you didn't find any trace Seokmin's lips on your skin anymore. You decided to wear a black dress to Minghao's dinner party. According to the invitation details, he wanted everyone to wear something fancy.

So that's what you did. You thought the dress was on par with the intent of the night, and you imagined that it was something Minghao would approve.

It was semi long, it didn't show too much but it flattered your body in the best way possible. You paired it jewellery and red details on your makeup.

The style of the dress left her neckline and collar bones exposed, so you felt a little relieved that you didn't have to cover hickeys for tonight. It saved you some time.

It has been over a week since you last saw Seokmin. You two were busy anyway so you didn't think much of it. But you missed him. You found yourself anticipating the next time you saw each other.

In addition to the excitement, you were surprisingly in a good mood. You even noticed some positive changes in your daily routine; you started exercising more regularly and reconnecting with friends you had drifted away from during the toughest days after your breakup.

You even purchased a few pieces of furniture for your apartment to give it a cosier, more lived-in feel that truly reflected that you enjoyed living there alone. Because, truthfully, you did.

A buzz came from your bedroom, and you went to investigate that your phone had a few new messages from Seokmin.

[06:12 PM] seokminnie: noddle [06:12 PM] seokminnie: i'm picking you up at 7 [06:12 PM] seokminnie: for hao's party [06:12 PM] seokminnie: be ready :)

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he used for you. Noodle. He was the only one who still called you that since university. Over time, you had developed a love-hate relationship with the nickname, but hearing it from him, you couldn't bring yourself to complain anymore.

[06:13 PM] you: okidoki :) [06:13 PM] seokminnie: okidoki? [06:13 PM] seokminnie: god you're such a dork [06:13 PM] you: shut up you like me either way :P

That was the end of your conversation so far.

You were already bubbling with anticipation to meet him once more. You were eager to show him the new additions you'd made to your apartment and to share the news that you were in the final auditions for another play.

While there wasn't any official confirmation about the role yet, you felt optimistic. You were putting your best effort into it, and for the first time, you felt that even if you didn't secure it, you would be okay. After all, you had your sights set on other projects too.

There was a knock on your door and since you were sitting in the kitchen, you ran to get it in two seconds.

Seokmin was standing there. Your eyes absorbed everything about him. His copper hair was parted slightly, his bangs brushing his eyebrows a little. He looked between laid back and still fitting for the night; black jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket.

"Hiii," you chanted.

He blinked, a grin appearing on his lips. "Hi there," he muttered.

Your stomach twisted a bit and before anything else was said you moved aside to let him in.

"Just let me get my bag and we can go," you grabbed your phone and your bag from the kitchen counter.

"Aren't you forgetting your shoes, noodle?" you hear him call.

"Oh, yes!" you laughed.

You had your shoes ready by the entrance of your apartment, and while putting them on, Seokmin held out a hand for you for you to remain on your feet.

"Thanks," you smiled at him.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed, somehow feeling agitated.

"Let's go," he smiled sweetly again and for a moment you fought the impulse of pulling him to your lips.

"Okidoki," you said promptly and followed him out your apartment and locked the door.

"Dork," he laughed.

You chuckled and when you both stepped into the elevator, you felt your mouth go dry. Suddenly you felt nervous to be in such an enclosed space with him.

But he was looking at his phone distractively.

The ride there was... odd. Not what you had expected entirely. He didn't say much and was too busy looking at his phone so you decided you didn't want to pry.

When you got there you saw some familiar faces outside the fancy restaurant. The guests were gathering outside the door, queueing to get their names and id's checked before entry.

Everyone looked elegant. When you saw some girls dressed in the same manner and style you were wearing you felt relieved, since you were doubting on being too much or not quite so.

You turned to Seokmin, who was just putting his phone on the pocket of his jeans and when he lifted his head to see you, he smiled softly. He caught up with you and as he did so, your hands touched for a moment.

You thought it was natural to just grab his hand, locking your fingers in his.

"Sorry. I was fixing an appointment for the costume fitting," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"For a moment there I thought you might be fake cheating on me," you smiled, but as soon as you blurted out the words, your heart dropped. Too far.

"You think I'd do something so horrible?" he asked dramatically, putting his free hand on his chest.

You smiled in relief. "Well, we haven't really talked about it. I don't know, you might want to start seeing someone for real," you shrugged.

His brow furrowed. "What if I don't?" he mused. "What if I enjoy being your fake boyfriend?"

"Then you're in luck because I enjoy you as my fake boyfriend too. It's fun," you smiled up at him.

You expected to see him smile, but instead he looked deep in thought.

As you joined the queue, the grip on your hand tightened gently. And you knew why. Your ex was in the queue, with a new girl wrapped in his arm. This girl you had never seen before, it wasn't the same girl he cheated on you with.

Your ex's eyes went through the crowd and your eyes met.

Seokmin was behind you, so he let go of your hand but his arms were encircling you from behind. A soft kiss landed on your temple and you shivered at the feeling of him so close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked on your ear.

You turned your head to see him and your hands rested on top of his. "I'm okay," you reassured him with a smile.

The proximity had startled you for a second, but you enjoyed this. His warmth, the scent of his clothes and skin.

His sweet brown eyes searched your face. "You look beautiful," he mumbled.

Not knowing what to reply, you lifted a hand to cup his cheek and reached for his lips. The kiss was tender, so slow that you felt him sigh on your lips, a shiver went down your spine.

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

"Ugh, come on! Get a move on, you lovebirds," an annoyed voice protested behind you.

It was Soonyoung. When you turned around you saw him beaming at you, he lifted a hand in the air and waved frantically at you. You smiled and waved back in the same manner.

"Come on, we're next," Seokmin stopped hugging you and pulled your hand in his again.

The table you were taken to was located in a secluded room within the fancy restaurant. You knew that Minghao had sold a few paintings to this restaurant the moment you were shown inside.

The place was dimly lit in soft orange hues and the tables were adorned with a trailed of roses and candles. In the room there was a wall fountain in the room, the water running continuously made a soft background noise paired with the live jazz show.

You strolled to the side of the room where Minghao was greeting his guests with a shy smile on his face. When he saw you he pulled you into a hug.

"Birthday boy," you chanted into the hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he said at the same time he patted you in your head.

"I brought you something," you said and unfasten your tiny purse.

You heard him giggle shyly. "You shouldn't have," he muttered but at the same time he was bouncing on his heels in anticipation.

His giggles became more bubbly when you pulled a black box the size of the palm of your hand and handed it to him. His eyes beamed at you and back to the box.

"What's this?" his lithe careful fingers took it from your hand and he looked up to find your eyes. "Can I open it now?"

"Course," you shrugged with an excited smile. "It's your birthday."

"Hehe," he chuckled in a tiny voice and opened the box to find a super tiny tea set.

You watched Minghao's mouth part a little and slowly turn into a child-like smile. His fingertips brushed over the tiny blue and white cups and teapot.

"I love it," he giggled again, "thank you."

Then he tucked you into a hug again and you returned the hug.

"I loved it so much that it makes me want to forgive you for fucking in my dressing room," he mentioned with a laugh.

Your cheeks flushed and he was patting your head and shuffling your hair teasingly.

"Y-you know? How?" your voice was high now.

He look straight in your eyes with a devilish smile. "Nothing gets passed me."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you groaned covering your face with your hands. But your friend was laughing cheekily.

Minghao had carefully assigned seats for everyone to get to know each other. You were assigned a seat next to Soonyoung; which didn't make sense to you until Jeonghan took the seat to your left. You didn't know each other well, besides from casual meetings for work.

Jeonghan was a sweet guy. He was mostly quiet but soft spoken at first, but he was eager to get to know you and he told you just that.

"Ah, it's so good to finally get to know you," he said when he had drank more and started to loosen up a bit. "You know how hard it is to get to talk to you?"

"What do you mean?" you laughed, feeling that Jeonghan was doing a bit.

"You're the stellar this season and I don't even know you," he chuckled as he spoke. "That bothers me. I want to meet everyone in the company."

"Why is that?" you frowned. It was weird that a director wanted to get to know everyone. Everyone you had worked with before Jeonghan could do with a first name basis with the cast and crew. Some not even that.

"I like to think of the company like a big family," he shrugged as he sat back. "I know that it might not be practical but who knows really. So far it's working for me."

"Do you act too or you're just in the management?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no. Not at all," he chuckled again. "I'm just interested in management and production. The acting part, props, staff, lighting and such is totally yours. I just revise projects, budget, plan and put the money."

"That sounds... like a lot of work," you looked up at him.

His short black hair covered half of his forehead. He looked a little bit tipsy, his heavy lidded eyes were turning lazier as you spoke, but he raised a soft smile.

"I enjoy it," he nodded with a grin. "And I get to make great friends, so best job ever."

Jeonghan excused himself and left the seat momentarily, thus leaving you without your new partner for the dinner.

You looked at the people sitting at the table. There were at least eighteen people sitting there. Most you knew and a few you didn't at all. Seokmin was sitting just across you, next to two actresses you knew.

He was talking to the girl to his right, while the other was laughing with Seungkwan. While Seokmin listened to the girl, he would casually nod and reply to her politely. Then you remembered that he tended to be shy on social reunions like these and that made you smile.

"Hey, why haven't you replied to my messages?" Soonyoung elbowed you.

You turned to look at him pout. "Sorry, Hoshi. Been busy," you patted his blond head.

"I hate it when you leave me on read," he continued to pout.

"I don't remember what you texted," you said, pursing your lips while you tried to remember.

"I asked you if you were in the final auditions yet," he groaned.

"Ah, yes that's right," you nodded. "And yes. You?"

He scratched his blond head. "Uhh, me too. But I'm not too confident," he shrugged.

Your brow furrowed. "Why?"

He eyed across the table before leaning towards you. "What if we both get the role? I'd have to kiss you," he hissed with a strained look on his face.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. "That's why you don't want the role? I feel offended," you laughed.

He nodded his head shortly. "I don't wanna kiss my best friend's girl. Nuh-uh. That's fucked up."

Your smile faded a bit. "Right. That might be awkward."

Soonyoung tilted his head to the side, still speaking in a hush tone. "Can you imagine that? What will I say at your wedding feast?"

That made you almost choke on your drink.

"Whoa, hold on tiger," you tried to laugh. "There's no wedding."

"Not yet," his eyes widened a bit and he pushed his lower lip out.

As if planned, you both glanced across the table. Seokmin was resting his head on his hand, elbow on the table listening to the girl next to him with a polite smile.

"I think you've had too much to drink, my friend," you chuckled and patted his reddened cheek softly.

"I'm not drunk," he shook his head and then rolled his eyes. "Well, just a bit tipsy but I'm for real when I tell you that I've always rooted for you guys."

"What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

"You're my best friends," he shrugged again. "And I've always been aware of how Dk looks at you and I'm not dumb. I know how love looks like."

"Love." you stuttered.

When Soonyoung sent a weird look, then you knew you had to compose yourself and remain on your act.

"Well, you both were always in your own little world to notice," he explained and leaned back on his chair. "But I'm happy that you're together now."

Trying to keep your cool as best as you possibly could, you smiled at him. And it was enough for Soonyoung because he was already speaking to the other person next to him.

Bewildered, your eyes fell on Seokmin. As if he knew you were about to look his way, his eyes met yours. His smile was gentle and blinked slowly your way and you managed a small smile.

When the dinner was over, someone had already organized an after party. Minghao wasn't at all prepared for an after party but didn't complained.

As you walked out of the restaurant, the air of the cold night had grown cruller. You hissed at it and your hands covered your face.

"Here," Seokmin mumbled and slipped his warm denim jacket on your shoulders.

"Thanks," you beamed at him, sinking your arms inside the warm sleeves. His scent coming from his jacket flooded your senses.

"No problem," his hand took your chin briefly, a warm smile on his face.

You resumed walking at his side, following your friends towards the after party. Then a hand slipped between yours almost as if it were second nature. You intertwined your fingers with his, enjoying the warm sensation that flooded inside you.

"D'you want to go to the after party?" Seokmin asked. "Apparently everyone is going."

"Uh... sure. Why not," you shrugged. "Do you?"

"Is there something wrong?" he asked suddenly, reading your face.

"No," you blurted a bit too quickly. "Everything's fine. Why?"

He pointed a finger to your face. "Your mouth is doing that thing it does when something is bothering you."

You huffed. "And what is that?"

Seokmin pursed his lips and did an impression of you chewing the inside of your mouth. "You do it every time something's wrong."

"Really?"

"I've noticed," he put in simply. "We've known each other for years, it's hard to not pick up on some stuff."

"Huh."

"Are you guys coming?" Soonyoung asked while passing you and Seokmin on the sidewalk.

"We'll meet you there," Seokmin nodded with a nod of his head.

"Don't bail on me, you two. I need my drinking partner!" he scolded in a slurred tone, his drunken face so flushed it made him look cute.

You were the drinking partner in question. It was a thing you had while in uni. Whenever they dragged you to a party and you played any drinking game, somehow you ended up worse than them. So you earned the said designated title.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seokmin suggested, still thinking that you were upset by something.

"I want to go," you reassured him. "I just don't think I can drink too much tonight."

"Then don't. I'll help you win, or not drink. Whatever comes to it," he pressed his lips in a smile.

Then he gently clasped your hand with his and started walking together to catch up to Soonyoung.

"Okiedokie," you mumbled, knowing it would make him smile.

"Such a dork," he sighed.

The after party was in a gallery art that was owned by one of Minghao's friends. It was down a street in between two restaurants that had already closed.

The gallery was spacious, pale grey concrete floors and walls that made it feel like a liminal space. The walls were covered by large murals and paintings and in the back there was a large space where someone was drawing some foldable chairs from a small closet.

Soon, more and more people started to show up, you even saw some faces that weren't at the dinner. Someone had brought sound equipment, and the art gallery turned into an artful improvised nightclub.

Seungkwan crossed the space, walking among the crowd towards you and pointed a finger to you. "There you are! I want to introduce you to a friend, come."

He promptly took the hand and the last thing you saw before breaking away from your fake boyfriend was his warm smile and him disappearing into the crowd with Jeonghan and Soonyoung.

You let your best friend drag you through the mass of unknown faces. He introduced you to a friend called Jun. The reason Seungkwan wanted you to meet his friend was because Jun was a tv actor and you kind of always been interested in acting for tv projects, so a conversation with the shy actor ensued.

Jun was one of the most beautiful individual's you've ever met. His red wine coloured hair made a shocking contrast with his sweet kind smile. He was sitting on top of a big wooden crate that quite possibly had paintings inside. But he seemed to not pay too much attention to it, he even invited you to sit beside him.

However, no matter how interested you were in the conversation, your eyes darted back were you last saw Seokmin, searching for him in the sea of faces.

You exchanged contacts with Jun, promising to keep in contact with him if you ever want to meet up and even meet his agent. It was an interesting opportunity, too promising to pass up.

The bellowing, drunken voice of Soonyoung made you look into the crowd, and beside your drunk friend you found Seokmin, his hands on his knees, laughing silly at something drunk Soonyoung was saying.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Seokmin laughing so hard he had to crouch down, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself.

"That's your boyfriend, isn't it?" Jun asked, since everyone was looking at his direction.

"Yeah," you muttered simply. It made an effect on your body whenever you called him your boyfriend. Even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Go to him," he pointed with his nose towards Seokmin. "I know you don't want to be here."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm sorry," you saw him smile as you left Seungkwan's friends. "I'll stay in touch, though."

Jun raised a hand, waving you goodbye as you made your way to where Seokmin was with Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They were playing some silly game in which they had to fake scream in pain, but Soonyoung was so drunk that couldn't make sense of his own words.

"Alright, big boy," Jeonghan said, pulling a chair in front of Soonyoung. "Enough alcohol for you."

Soonyoung was already red in the face, but if you could give him anything, he was an obedient drunk.

"Hey, that's my drinking partner," Soonyoung mumbled, pointing a weak finger at you as his head landed on the table.

"What did you do to him?" you asked.

"He lost the game three times in a row," Seokmin explained with a shrug.

"I'm taking him home," Jeonghan patted the drunken head resting on the table once and went outside to get his car.

"Thanks," you crouched to level your eyes with your friend. He smiled, making the cheek that was pressed to the table bulge.

"'m fine," he mumbled. And closed his eyes, within seconds he had already fallen asleep.

Seokmin was behind you when you stood up, a hand sneaking on your lower back. "Well if it's any consolation, you won't have to drink tonight."

"Yeah, lucky me," you smiled, turning to him so that your body was facing his.

"Who did Seungkwan want you to meet?" he asked.

"A tv actor. Told me to meet up with his agent to talk auditions," you told him.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like an interesting opportunity. Who is he?"

You subtly gestured toward Jun, who remained perched like a model on a large wooden crate, even the lights on him appeared to be lighting him up like a piece of art in the gallery.

"We exchanged numbers to meet someday," you mentioned casually.

"You did?" he shifted his gaze from the charming actor to study your face.

Your eyes narrowed. "Yeah. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just curious."

A smile played on your lips. "Are you…"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Jealous?"

He let out a chuckle, attempting to mask his surprise. "Jealous? Why would I be?"

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've been showing a possessive streak lately?"

His expression softened, and the hand on your lower back pressed on you a little. "What if I did feel a little jealous?"

A warmth rushed through your body, you felt it pulse in your chest.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hand on your back. "Well, then I might have to make it up to you somehow," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

He smiled, a mixture of playfulness and curiosity. "Oh, yeah? And how will that be?"

"Why don't you find out?" you replied coyly, and you stood on your tiptoes, letting the hand on your back go a little lower on the small of your back.

Curious fingers gingerly and discreetly explored the small of your back and ass. Seokmin understood immediately, his alarmed eyes stopping on yours. "You're not wearing underwear." he muttered.

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest as you nodded with your head.

His free hand took you by your jaw, pulling you into a rushed kiss. "You'll be the death of me," he groaned.

He dragged you through the dense crowd and led you out the dimly lit art gallery. You walked through a small door and found yourself in a deserted, dark alley. A tall ceramic pot with a dried plant was the only feature in the secluded area.

Seokmin was already pinning you against a wall, leaning his head down to find your lips. You had already decided to ignore all your rational thinking and melted into his lips.

"We're gonna have to be quick," he muttered, his lips brushing yours before sinking down on them again.

"I don't trust your definition of quick," you whispered, your hands slipping behind his neck to drag him into another wet kiss.

"For real this time," he smirked.

"I've never been fucked against a wall," you blurted out when your hand reached for the belt in his pants.

"Just hold onto me. I'll do the work," he mumbled and his breath hitched when he felt your fingers on his skin when you buried your hand beneath his underwear, grabbing his already hardened cock. "Your hands are cold."

"Sorry," you whispered, your hand feeling the soft skin of his length, the tip of his cock was already wet in precum when you rubbed your thumb across it, smearing the wetness around his cockhead.

"Lean against the wall. I'm going to lift you up," he muttered and you did what he said.

Seokmin reached down at your legs under the skirt of your dress and he swiftly lifted your body up, grabbing your ass in his hands. You pulled your skirt to your hips, giving him space to properly slot himself between your thighs.

Your hand snuck between his body and yours, finding his cock again with your fingers and led it to your core. Watching his face intently, you played a little with his cockhead, dragging it across your wet folds. A groan reverberated through his gritted teeth.

"You're soaking wet, baby," he said, dropping his forehead on yours when he felt you. "Does making me jealous turn you on?"

"You turn me on," you mumbled. "I missed you, Seokmin. It's been days since we last fucked."

The squelching sound coming from you playing with his cock against your entrance only made you more aroused. You bit your lip down before aligning his cockhead to your entrance, and looked at Seokmin's eyes.

"Are you sure you can take me like this?" he whispered.

You nodded, feeling so eager that you couldn't breathe. "I'm sure."

But soon you understand what the really meant. He started to ease himself inside you with shallow thrusts, stretching your tight core open so slowly, but so deliciously your eyes screw shut, making you see stars.

Normally when you had sex with him, he would play with your core with his fingers before fucking you. But now he went in without stretching you beforehand, and it had been days since you last had him inside you.

Your breath hitched at the sharp pain, grabbing him by the shoulders of his shirt and your fingers twisted to resist the pain as he was still sinking his length inside you. It was a bit painful, but you found out that your body liked it. The mere thought of him stretching your core, having him raw aroused you even more.

"You told me you could take me," he muttered in a hushed tone. "D'you want to stop?"

"No," you mumbled quickly and reached for his lips. "Keep going, please."

Your hands were clinging at his shoulders, fingers twitching at the exquisite feeling of having him inside you. His hips came to a stop, and you could feel that he had sheathed himself completely inside you.

This could drive you crazy. Him being so closely connected to your body that you could feel the warmth of him, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you as he moved in a slow pace, still adjusting to your body.

"Are you okay, baby?" he mumbled.

You muffled a whimper biting down your lip at the sound of his voice calling you that.

"I'm okay," you replied, feeling out of breath but in plain ecstasy.

His hips started moving, not caring about being slow or patient and you silently thanked him for it. He was thrusting in you so fast that there was barely any chance to capture his lips in yours so you resorted to see his face as he fucked you into the wall.

Your hands moved daintily from the shoulders of his shirt to his neck. It was already covered in a light layer of sweat, but his hips didn't faltered, thrusting inside you so deep that you felt like you were impaling yourself in his cock.

You stiffened a moan when he found a rhythm that hit your core so deliciously you felt like you had to cum soon.

"Quiet, baby," he whispered when he heard you. He leaned down and pressed a quick tender kiss on your lips, still rutting his hips against yours.

Seokmin's eyes were focused on your face, you could tell he was attentive to the faces you made whenever he'd hit the golden spot inside you. Then, one of your hands slid between your bodies, your eyebrows furrowed with tension as you managed to rub your clit, feeling so close to the release your body was building up, he smiled.

"Aw baby, are you going to cum?" he whispered.

The hand that was still clinging to him clenched at the hem of his shirt and felt your body tense up and you could savour your release. You nodded, "'m so close, babe," you whimpered.

Seokmin groaned as your walls clamped erratically around his cock, a warm wet sensation slipped where your bodies connected. You knew you were creaming on his cock and the thought of it sent you over the edge.

You came, hard enough to shake on his arms and whimper quietly his name. It took everything you had to not scream, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as your body went limp under the waves of bliss consuming you.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered on your lips, and you knew he was close too.

As his hips were faltering, you wrapped your legs around his hips. "No, don't pull out," you muttered wildly. A groan was muffled by your mouth as he came inside you, pumping warm ropes of cum deep inside you.

His hips came to a stop, his cock still buried deep inside your core. Now that he had stilled, you reached to kiss his lips fervently, still feeling under the craze of your orgasm.

Seokmin pulled his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp from you.

"Babe?" he repeated, his brow deeply furrowed.

Your heart stilled.

"You don't like it?" you asked innocently. "I won't use it again."

He didn't really give an answer. He just blinked slowly, his gaze drawing away from your face and into the night sky. "You didn't let me pull out."

"I missed you," you replied with a small voice.

He lowered his eyes to find yours. "You missed me that much?" he muttered, his lips rose in a downturned smile. "Did you miss my cock so much that you needed me to fuck you in a dark alley?"

"I did," you breathed, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. "It's all I could think of; you inside me, cumming in me."

He was breathing softly against your lips, his forehead sweaty as he gently rested it against yours. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

He shook his head slightly, his forehead still on yours. "Saying you missed me. Making me feel jealous. Calling me babe. Fucks with my head."

"Sorry," you heard yourself say. "I..."

You wanted to tell him that you did miss him. Not just the sex. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to say it.

You waited for a long second, his breathing was not slowing down and his forearms were starting to shake a little. He put you back on the floor, not quite letting you go until you could stand on your own.

You leaned against the wall as you watched him fix his pants quietly, his belt hanging lose as he looked at you.

"Do you have your panties?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah," your fingers dug at your tiny purse and you pulled a clean black thong.

He took it from your hand and knelt down before you, patting on your ankle for you to lift it up the ground and then the next. Then he slid your underwear up your legs, fixing the edges so they wouldn't bump on your dress.

"Thanks," you whispered.

"I'm going to take you home now, okay?" he muttered, he was serious now. Something you rarely saw on him.

"Kay," you whispered.

Taking your hand in his, he led you through the alley and to the street. Soon you realized that you were ten minutes away from your apartment building and Seokmin was leading you back.

He was too quiet, dangerously quiet you'd say. And you didn't know how to make him talk about what kept him this quiet. So you stayed silent too because you didn't know what to say.

"Are you... are you staying tonight?" you asked when you got to your apartment door and opened it for him.

He leaned his head against your doorframe, looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with you.

"I just wanted to get you home," he mumbled. "I'll be going now."

Your brow furrowed, feeling a morose pain sweep in your chest. A pain you knew too well.

"What's wrong?" you asked, in a small voice.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he said softly, a sad, tired look on his face.

You felt your knees wobble a bit. "We can talk now," you suggested, already feeling what would come next.

Seokmin sighed and stepped inside your apartment, closing the door behind him.

You slowly removed his jacket and handed it to him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not," he replied with a reassuring tone. He took his jacket and put it on and you noticed the expression on his face was conflicted.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart beating so hard against your chest you thought it might tell on you. Seokmin approached in your living room, and now you could see him under the light of the lamps.

"I don't think I can keep up with this," he admitted.

Your heart felt heavy, as if it were being squeezed in a tight fist.

"Why? What changed?" you murmured.

"I broke our promise," he sighed heavily.

A burning sense of fear crippled you. Everything was happening too fast for you to cope or understand. But you knew that you had to face it.

"The more we fuck around the more I realise that it's not just the sex what I want anymore," Seokmin continued. "I know I promised this wouldn't happen, but it did. And I'm not sure how much longer I can take this fake dating, because I want more... I want to be with you."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and you struggled to find the right words to respond. After a moment, you managed to say, "I didn't think this would happen so soon."

He nodded, his eyes darkened with a mix of regret and longing. "I understand if you need space. I just had to be honest with you."

You inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your aching heart. "I'm not ready. Not yet."

You could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the turmoil of emotions he'd been dealing with. And he could probably see the same in your eyes.

"I know," he finally said, his voice tense with defeat.

Of course he knew. He was your best friend. He was there when you were broken after finding out your ex had cheated on you. He understood everything you had gone through to move on. He would know if you're ready to love again.

"But we can work it out," you murmured, your eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I want us to."

His gaze softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I don't want to rush you. I'll be patient."

Your voice trembled as you replied, "I just need time."

He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you all the time you need," he promised, his voice reassuring. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you both stood there, wrapped in the weight of the moment, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and a understanding. You hugged him close to your body, shaking with sobs, allowing yourself to bury your face in the warmth of his chest.

"I need to go now," he muttered with a heavy tone.

Your arms tensed around him. You heard him release a sigh, and knew he was smiling.

"Have a bath and go to bed," he instructed. "You'll feel better."

You didn't want him to leave. But when you finally forced yourself to let him go, he kissed your forehead sweetly before patting your head as he always did.

"I'll stay close, noodle. Don't worry," he muttered with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he turned away and left quietly.

♡︎ a/n: i love dk sm! u-u i got a bit carried away with the angst i just love it hehe. if you liked reading this feel free to show it some love leaving a like, reblogging, commenting. k, bye! ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

click here for part 4!!

[puriiinz]

HEADCANONS | ellie w.

a/n: these came to me at 5 am… they might be modern-ish 😇

⊰ cares so much about the butterfly effect, used to read books about it when she was little

⊰ LOVES berry flavored yogurt. sometimes puts them in the freezer with a stick in them to make ice cream

⊰ likes being sappy but doesn’t act on it because she doesn’t want to ruin her image (also because she thinks people will laugh at her)

⊰ has multiple bracelets that are made of thread and never takes them off. she washed her hands? theyre dripping on the couch while she’s laying down. just showered? she blow dries them.

⊰ also! her favorite piece of jewelry is bracelets because they don’t get in her way, make sounds that scratch her brain just right and look pretty. sometimes she even forgets that she has bracelets on because she’s so used to them. and she despises rings. sometimes they squeeze her fingers and she gets so scared when she can’t take them off immediately.

⊰ she’s always drumming her fingers. doesn’t matter if she has a song stuck in her mind or not, she will be drumming them. holding your hand? you’ll feel randomly timed taps on the back of your hand. oh she has her arm around you? don’t worry she’ll start hitting your shoulder to beyonce’s partition soon enough.

⊰ speaking of which!!! ellie loves loves looooves beyonce! her fav songs are love on top, diva and no angel.

⊰ probably had a ‘i hate pink’ phase when she was little. probably was annoying everyone because she kept repeating how she didn’t like pink and she wasn’t girly. and at 15 she realized how dumb she was acting and now she loves pink (it’s still a secret…)