#but if u see anything new (or want an old big piece) and ask me ill give it to u. whatever.

[ad-ya]

i believe so fundamentally in free art. especially free prints, which (as we all know from IB ART HL) were designed for peak reproducibility at a (comparatively) minimum cost. friendly and enthused reminder you can email me abt any art i make/have made ever and i will send that shit (the original drawing) 2 you for free (if i still have it.)

[landoslvr]

MRS TELEVISION | a. frederick

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs television'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x arthur frederick (arthurtv)

faceclaim: bri kerr

notes: first piece for mrs television out of the wag universe. bri is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs television, hopefully you like it!

liked by arthurtv, arthurfhill and 1,129 others

yourinstagram helped out on someone else's video for once, chris finally let me leave the dungeon!!!

view all 92 comments

user she kills me

user hottest producer award goes to...

chrismd_10 drinking on the job?

yourinstagram constantly

user she looks peppered in the 3rd slide

user first risky pic from y/n ever on the 6th slide

georgeclarkey thanks for the candid of me and my man 😌😌

arthurtv please someone get him away from me

user y/n's friend is inhaling that guinness 🫢

arthurtv great photography for the 1st and 3rd pictures, big fan!

yourinstagram humble as ever mr television

liked by georgeclarkey, wroetoshaw and 1,398 others

yourinstagram lots of fun at work recently, constantly mixing business and pleasure 🥂 chrismd thanks for keeping me employed even if I drink at work

view all 120 comments

user I can't tell if shes joking about drinking at work 😭

user its definitely a joke, most bts has y/n yelling at chris to pull his head in lol

user she keeps him in line!

yourinstagram have been going on 15 years

user we thank you for your service 🫡

arthurtv no jerseys at the match???

yourinstagram the nerve!

chrismd_10 who's that handsome fella in the last slide?

miniminter leave the md clutches and come to sidemen

yourinstagram throw in talia and you have a deal

georgeclarkey you drunk

yourinstagram seems to be the new normal now, just embracing my new brand (like you and your Invisalign ads)

georgeclarkey too far

liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,781 others

yourinstagram more of a traveller atm than a producer! enjoyed spain very very much, definitely swipe to the 8th slide to see what arthur classifies as a front flip

view all 328 comments

arthurtv it's called being flexible, you wouldn't know anything about it

yourinstagram your six-year-old sister does a better front flip than you

arthurtv leave flora out of this

user guys stop flirting in front of us 😭😭 the false hope hurts

georgeclarkey always appreciate meeting a fan

yourinstagram die

calfreezy that photo was sacred y/n

chrismd_10 I feel ashamed, embarrassed

willne the absolute cheek

user why is no one talking about how good y/n looks in these pictures??

faithlouisak Im thinking the same thing?

user literal island princess

user is that danny aarons in the 5th picture 😭😭

yourinstagram dont even ask how he got the invite

chrismd_10 we're still not sure tbh

liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,901 others

yourinstagram filmed a very *cool* video this week 🌨️

view all 234 comments

arthurtv again, who is your photographer???? such raw talent is exquisite

yourinstagram im very close to letting him go actually, you can have him!

user arthur being the first to comment on her posts fuels my mrs television heart really, give us something guys

user I love them at my core I can't lie

user she is just so pretty

chrismd_10 get back to work

yourinstagram I literally just want to breathe chris

user someone make chris let y/n go, she needs to be a free woman

bezhinga faiths phone is dead but she says 'u look leng'

yourinstagram I love you faith kelly x

liked by callux, arthurtv and 2,193 others

yourinstagram very good friends! (happy one year doofus)

view all 401 comments

user A WHOLE ASS YEAR???????

user who even are they????????

user I feel like I have been swindled here miss l/n

user can we finally call her mrs television??? shes more than chris' producer now, she's one of us

arthurtv best friends for life! (I love you very much)

user I can't tell if im going to cry or faint tbh

user why is he always playing chess, arthur PLEASE

yourinstagram I'm asking this question all the time?

chrismd_10 I take credit for this relationship btw

yourinstagram how so?

chrismd_10 if I hadn't sat with arthur in class and then dragged you into our group project, I like to think this wouldn't have happened

georgeclarkey I love all of the fans so much but please stop sending me these pictures of my fiancé wrapped around another woman

user GEORGE PLEASE

[omophagic-beast]

for the tarot rpg ask game! The Fool, The Empress, The Hierophant, The Chariot, The Hanged Man, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Sun!

!!! wowow hi!! thank you for all the questions, im gonna put them under a read more as to not clog up peoples dashes

from this ask game

The Fool – What do the earliest stages of work on a game look like for you? OR How did you get into game design?

i have a notes discord server! and a channel in there specifically for game ideas. previously i had a big word document titled "game ideas", but its easier to access discord from my phone lol

usually i have an idea and i stick it in there first

heres the start of the pillars of creation :3

and then ill noodle around with it, just brainstorm and slap spaghetti around. this is another reason why i like discord for this at the moment, its informal and easy, much less daunting than a word doc

i didnt end up using most of the bits here lol

and then ill move it into a word doc once its clear that ive got an actual project / game starting to form!

the one problem with this is sometimes ill keep an idea in there for much longer than i should and it becomes a mess of me replying to myself, terrible to follow. this is the current problem with moonlight whaling, sigh

The Empress — Where do your ideas come from? OR Do you seek out or avoid inspiration while working on an idea?

a lot of places!! tumblr being one of them, sometimes ill see a post where im like "huh that could be a game in some way" and ill stick it in my notes discord for later. but really anything, books, movies, songs, other games. im not the first to say this but u gotta read / watch / experience new things to make new things

The Hierophant — Who is a fellow game designer you’ve learned a lot from? OR What is a piece of popular wisdom about games you think is nonsense?

i answered the second one here so ill answer the first!

ive learned a lot from any designer whos game ive played or read, to start. but i wanna shout out @thydungeongal on here, her posts abt game design and rollmaster / d&d are highly highly fascinating and helpful to me, as a guy who hasnt even played d&d let alone any old school stuff and just kinda jumped into the indie scene from the start.

kinda makes me wanna play rollmaster, ngl. whats it doin with all those mechanics and tables =w=

The Chariot — What is the next project you’re planning to start OR What is the next project you’re excited to finish?

this has been my big question to myself recently, what game to really focus in on next. i have games that just need to be finished, but i think my next one* is gonna be this time travel game ive been thinking of

working title is Hooked, and the reason i think im going to start (and finish) it next is cause ive already got the main mechanic figured out, where when you fail a roll you can choose to create a hook, and in doing so succeed the roll

but that hook is a place where a future you has traveled back to that point in time and given you what you needed to succeed, which means at some point youre going to have to come back and close the loop, or else risk creating a paradox

too many paradoxes and the universe explodes so like. be careful :3!

it is going to be a lot of work, i want the general aesthetic to be the journal of a time traveler, with notes from all their future and past selves scrawled in the margins in different colors. and theres the question of if its a solo game or multiplayer, or both. solo-friendly is my current thought, but encouraged for more than one person. but we'll see how it actually plays.

The Hanged Man — What other creative pursuits do you have? OR What current trends in game design are you most interested in?

someone should ask me this again cause i wanna answer the other one also :3c

but! i have a crochet project on the mind so i wanna talk abt other stuff im into also :3

im currently considering ADHD and how it could possibly relate to myself, so just keep that in mind when i say ive dipped my paws into a whoooole lot of different creative hobbies. sewing, knitting, pottery, bookbinding, needle felting, jewelry making, and yea, crochet, are all stuff ive been into at one point or another

but my favorites are crochet and cooking / baking. for most of my life i thought my career was gonna be in food service! ive been a baker, cake decorator, and diner cook before, and loved all three of those jobs.

and crochet is great mainly cause you can make stuffed animals / amigurimis >:33 i loooove little guys and being able to choose what soft yarn im gonna make em out of, though its been a minute since ive made one. but!! like i mentioned ive got a project on the mind, as im gonna try and make the "something strange and indescribable" from the Before the Flood backerkit campaign and im very excited abt it :3 stay tuned for posts abt my success or failure on this front

The Devil — What motifs or mechanics do you just keep coming back to? OR What is a game you’ve enjoyed playing in the last year?

NIGHTHAWKS by @titanrpg is really really good. it has a heart in it, one that beats at an all too-familiar rhythm. when i played it we told a story that was perhaps a touch too close to home as well, disparate sad people sitting several stools apart at a dive bar in a small town.

i have a tendency towards comedy when i play ttrpgs, but my favorite moments are all when ive been deeply serious and sad, and thats what i got from NIGHTHAWKS

The Tower — Talk about about a game you tried to make that crashed and burned.

center of the known universe was an anthology of games i wanted to make a while back, all inspired by the part of the nevadan desert i live in. i dont think its crashed and burned necessarily but i certainly never finished it and im not sure i ever will, though i still like the ideas for some of the games and may release them individually

The Star — Talk about a game you’re working on and what excites you about it.

a game ive been working on for a looong time that i dont think ive really talked abt on here is The Lady, The Tiger, and The Accused. its a descended from the queen game based on The Lady or The Tiger? short story, where (to put it very briefly) a king has created a new form of justice where the accused is put in an arena with two identical doors in front of them.

behind one door, a lady of an appropriate social standing for them to marry, behind the other a very hungry tiger. this leaves the verdict up to fate, for if the accused is innocent they will surely pick the door with the lady, and if they are guilty they will choose the door with the tiger.

but the accused in the story is also the lover of the lands princess, and when they look back at her for the last time she raises a hand and points towards one of the doors.

the question in the story is one of love. would the princess rather see her lover dead, or married to someone else?

what comes through the door, the lady or the tiger?

but! there are other characters in this story, with agency and lives of their own.

The Lady, The Tiger, and The Accused instead asks a question of trust. when The Accused looks back towards their princess, and she raises her hand, do they trust her? do they open the door that she points towards?

its a game for three players, with each person playing one of the titular characters. it uses the descended from the queen format to create the character of the princess throughout play, along with the characters of The Lady, The Tiger, and The Accused.

its a good game!! ive got a bit more work to do on it, mainly on the tiger role. not everyone is comfortable being an actual tiger and role playing scenes that involve communicating with humans or attending parties and such, it turns out.

but im really excited abt it overall :3 its good and fun and i think it uses the descended from the queen format really well and hopefully one day ill do a crowdfunding project for it and get enough money to hire a bunch of different artists to make princess illustrations for it >:333

The Sun — Talk about a game you’ve made that you’re proud of.

im proud of all of my games, in one way or another. but, with an obligatory Before the Flood mention (crowdfunding now!), im really and truly proud of my body is your body is our body is

it was my first kinda big game that i published, and there was a lot of stuff with the first edition i really wasnt super happy with. im really, really proud of myself for finally going back in this year and fixing it. its so much better now! in a lot of ways.

and i mean it was good to start with also, most of my problems were with the programming side of it. when i was making the second edition reading back through the game made me cry a bit lol. theres a lot of banger lines in there and a lot of feelings.

[feyhunter78]

do u have any tips for growing ur blog?

Hmmmm this is a good question! 💗 My top piece of advice is if you focus on growing and your numbers you’ll be miserable and drive yourself crazy. Also, I wouldn’t say my blog is really thattttt big compared to some other blogs, but I think what worked for me is:

1.) Consistently - post and keep posting even if it’s not fics, you don’t *have* to have a posting schedule, everyone knows I don’t, but I try to not go like 4 days to a week without adding something new to my blog

2.) Find your niche - mine is definitely now ridiculously indulgent fics and soft smut, also making memes

3.) Don’t be afraid to get personal - I tell y’all shit I’m sure no one cares to hear about, stuff that might be embarrassing or stuff I know people would prefer a new chapter to, but I post my thoughts anyways bc it’s fun and helps build connection with your readers!

4.) Boost others - I love when people make things for me or send me asks, even if they have nothing to do with my current stories! I also like to just randomly reblogging fics I like, artwork, jokes, whatever I just happen to enjoy.

Mel’s memes and all of Smokey’s artwork are my two main things I personally like to fawn over and force everyone to see when they come on my blog and I think showing public appreciation is always good!!!!

5.) This is one you just cannot control and that is timing - Sometimes new things come out and your fic is swept up in the wave of excitement or something old remerges or a trailer to get released and people turn their eyes back to that fandom!

People like to rag on “jumping on the bandwagon” but if you have something you want to put out for a fandom who cares if you’re only doing it because it’s popular? If it’s a good work and you actually care about what you’re making then I personally don’t consider it disingenuous

(Shit I said it myself when I started writing Pink Pastels, I didn’t see the movie I just kept seeing Miguel everywhere, read a dozen or so fics and got struck with an idea. That being said thqt only bc works I do my research to make sure there’s no glaring errors.)

I hope this helps!!!!

Edit: also I don’t get involved in ANY drama, I stay in my lane. I am a grown women, I will not argue with someone on the internet about anything💀

[chocosvt]

hi choco! i'm so excited to see you back on my tl; i've missed you and your god-tier fics & i'm super duper excited to read your wonwoo fic as well (140k words? we will all be well fed fr 🤲)

i had a little rant? not exactly rant but something that's been itching my mind a bit haha, i hope you don't mind me sharing it with you! i genuinely want some advice over this.

as a long fic writer, how do you consistently come back to writing your fic without getting bored? i looooove writing long fics too (big lover of slowburn and angst lol) but i always get so impatient and bored of writing the story so quickly :(

i'd posted a teaser for a fic a while back and it got a good amount of traction (something i will always be grateful for) and someone asked me when i would release the full fic, to which i gave them a tentative date. fast forward to the day before the day i said i would post the fic and you have me typing out paragraphs upon paragraphs of stuff that i absolutely loathe in my writing. i ended up posting the fic anyway, but it's been only a day and i already want to take it down—not bc it's not getting any attention, because it is, but more so bc i hate that fic and would do anything to rewrite it.

iirc your joshua fic, 'best friend's brother' was a rewrite of a fic you'd written earlier, right? was your thought process similar to this? where did you start your rewriting process from? did you have any second thoughts when you took it down the first time?

i'm really sorry if this is too many questions 😅 please take your time if you do choose to answer this! much love and have a great day, choco!!! thank you so much :)

(is it alright if i use an emoji to sign off so i can find this ask later?)

— 🍫

first of all, THANK U SO MUCH <3

and i don't mind at all! these are rly insightful questions :o though i'll just chunk my answers a bit so i'm not all over the place.

not getting bored to be honest, i'm not sure if i ever "get bored" of writing out the plot. but i definitely get burnt out, and sometimes i get downright sick of reviewing my own writing, to the point where i just have to close my laptop and walk away. i think the most important & overarching piece of advice i can give--not just in terms of long fics but any fic for that matter--is to never force anything & take breaks!

when i'm busy at uni, there are like 5 month breaks where i don't bother writing at all. i always think that the second i have free time, i should theoretically want to write, but sometimes i just don't. and i make peace with it bc i know the second i force anything i will end up hating it (also takes the fun & enjoyment out of the process).

i think if you're getting bored, it's probably a sign that your body & mind just isn't interested in writing at the moment. so i would step away & take a break and attempt to get your mind off the plot. i think that taking a break also invigorates your mind a bit and gives you newer, better ideas (at least from my experience).

bfb rewrite the reason i rewrote best friend's brother was bc the og fic was from 2016, when my writing style was completely different. i still liked the concept but naturally, as my writing grew, i just detested the way the old ver was written, which spurred me to create the rewrite.

i wanted to give the characters a lot more depth & beef up the plot, so the new fic is actually a lot different in comparison to the old one. i wasn't attempting to do a scene-for-scene rewrite--it was simply just my approach to an old concept that i felt i could now execute better.

as to how i went abt rewriting it, i just picked out moments from the old fic that i liked and built around them. for instance, i rly liked the "skipping stones" scene that shows some intimacy & tenderness between joshua and reader. but it can't just happen out the gate. so i had to figure out the typical "why, when, and how is this moment happening right now?" from scratch.

the thing with long fics for me, it honestly is a test of patience & dedication!! bc it can truly be so frustrating :( a lot of times, you want to jump right into the good parts bc those are like the shiny glimmers that make the fic attractive. but depending on how impactful you want those moments to be, build-up is sooooo key! the thing is, build-up is just so critical in my opinion, but it can also be such a pain to write :p

i find when i review my writing, these are scenes i criticize or change the most--more than the big, hard-hitting scenes. bc to me, it's such a specific thing that you have to nail down justttt right. it's a lot of thinking and finagling and i think this process is what i dread the most? especially when it refuses to turn out how you want it--ugh, so discouraging!! but once you get it's like a silky flowy river!!

the big takeaways (i guess?) 1. taking breaks is so important! 2. don't force anything xxxx 3. take the big moments & build around them i totallyyyyy understand your frustration!! there have been so many moments where i'm like I NEED TO WRITE AHHHHH and then i promptly open the document only to sit there, blankly read a few sentences, and then get this rly big sinking feeling in my gut that is essentially telling me "never mind" and honestly i just listen to it bc if i'm gonna close & open the document 10 times in a row i obviously don't want to write. i'm just searching for something fulfilling and clearly not finding it in the task at hand so i should do smth else.

THIS IS EXTREMELY LENGTHY AND I''M BEYOND SORRY, but i hope somewhere amongst this mumbo jumbo there was something that stood out & may give you a bit of closure!

[xiuxiuonthatbeat]

introduction !!!

hii !!!! my name is Violet. i am a really big fan of art & whatnot (basic). i have been taking on a little bit of a personal challenge 2 listen 2 at least one new album every day & ive been working on that challenge for about 1.5 years now !!! i looove talking about art and sharing my thoughts and 4 the past year or so i have been posting all my thoughts and media analysis and whatnot onto my Instagram story, but i have always wanted 2 start posting my thoughts somewhere that is more.... permanent, i guess? bc Instagram stories expire after 24 hours yk. anyways. i finally made a Tumblr blog !!!!! i am COMPLETELY new 2 Tumblr. so i apologize in advance if my blog is like informal or not very "good" quality by Tumblr standards or whatever else i will get better !!!

here is what u can expect from this page:

i am going to post music reviews/recommendations most likely, as well as film & literature & all of that stuff. whenever i see a piece of media that interests me enough 2 want 2 talk abt it im gonna use this blog 2 share my thoughts !!!!

i also am really interested in philosophy, i am only just now formally getting into it, but i have been thinking about that sort of stuff and asking questions like that 4ever. erm. i wouldnt call myself a philosopher bc that feels pretentious but i aspire 2 be a philosopher eventually. ill probably post abt that sort of stuff as well. i am also VERY interested in sociology, psychology, anthropology, political science... pretty much anything like that. i just love learning about things in general EVERYTHING is so fascinating 2 me but especially humanity.

i am a bit interested in politics as well !!!! i dont like to use any labels 4 my political ideas bc i feel like those can be limiting & contribute 2 close-mindedness but if i had 2 describe my alignment in any way i am probably pretty far-left. although i am completely open 2 hearing everyone's ideas!

i might also post about other things as well, im not sure yet !!!

some info abt me:

i am a girl, so, she/her pronouns ig !

i am 16 years old (well im 15 but i turn 16 in two weeks)

i am a member of the LGBTQ community

my handle on most social media sites is yourdadcosplay if u want 2 follow me anywhere else !!! (i dont do cosplay or anything~ when i was 13 i heard some guy on tiktok say the phrase "your dad cosplay" and i thought that combination of words was super funny so i made it into my username on instagram and then it just kind of stuck. and i use that on everything now. only reason i didnt use it 4 my tumblr is bc i didnt want ppl 2 think my blog was a cosplay blog or something idk)

my favorite music artists r: Black Country New Road, Kimya Dawson, Death Grips, Xiu Xiu, and Car Seat Headrest !!!!

my favorite album of all time is Ants From Up There and my favorite movie of all time is Everything Everywhere All at Once, both of those pieces came out in the year 2022.

my favorite book is the manga Goodnight Punpun by Inio Asano, and its actually the book that made me fall in love with literature.

im currently working on creating my own website!!! i dont know anything about HTML though, so it will be a long process.

i dont believe in astrology rlly but i am a Gemini.

my iq is 122 or something around that i dont remember the number i just remember im in the 93rd percentile

i am an INFP

boundaries:

i do try my absolute best to be open-minded and tolerant towards everyone's ideas and beliefs; even those which i disagree with. i actually encourage ppl who disagree with anything i say 2 challenge me or discuss/debate with me. that being said, if u r not willing 2 have a civil and open-minded discussion with me, and if ur only interest is arguing, then i will ask u 2 pls leave me alone. i love talking 2 ppl who have ideas different than my own, but i do not wish 2 engage in any immature internet beefs or anything of that sort.

pls, 4 the love of god, if u r the type of person who gets offended over every little thing; if u r more concerned with petty discourse & things that have no significance 2 any real-life problems; if u lack media literacy; or if u r otherwise just unintelligent, then PLEASE dont interact with my page.

i try my absolute best 2 be a good person. if i ever do anything that u find 2 be morally offensive (this is not just if i say something that makes u feel a bit of angst, but if i say something that u feel is actually problematic.) or if we r interacting directly & i make u uncomfortable, PLEASE TELL ME! i hate it when ppl have problems with me that could easily be resolved but they just dont tell me. it makes me anxious.

also, pls note:

just because i talk about a certain piece of media or art or literature on this blog does not necessarily mean that i agree with the ideas expressed in that blog or even that i like that piece. i try my best to think 4 myself and i do not take all of the ideas that r expressed 2 me as the absolute truth. just because i read any given book does not mean that i necessarily agree with its ideas; the same goes 4 all of the topics i discuss here.

as a large part of this blog is abt media discussion & whatnot, i want 2 say that i am absolutely open 2 any art. and i will not avoid any piece of media just because it is allegedly problematic.

most of this page is dedicated 2 sharing and discussing my ideas on various topics like art, philosophy, politics, and such. i dont think that im going 2 be posting or saying anything that is incredibly morally offensive or anything, and 2 be honest i dont even think my ideas r particularly radical or controversial, but, if there ever does come a time when i might have a potentially controversial idea, i wont hesitate 2 share it. im not going 2 censor myself or sugarcoat my beliefs on this blog just 2 avoid discourse.

all of that being said, this blog is not 2 be taken 100% seriously either. i will talk abt serious topics on here, but i like 2 laugh as well! u should not assume that anything i say is 100% serious or 100% satirical. that SHOULD be a given, but on my Instagram account, i have had a worrying amount of interactions with ppl who got mad at me 4 things bc they assumed i was serious when i wasnt or vice versa.

ok, that is all !!! thx 4 reading !!!

[onmymasa22]

Her correcting u just means she doesnt have adhd. She just doesnt understand it. She doesnt know what its really like. She doesnt know how badly it feels to have adhd. Cuz im speaking from experience and ur not.

Man i can understand why u guys aren't married. I dont even like being arund u and im not looking to sleep with u. Talk about a guy who is.

Ur so busy? Please. Tell me about it. Because im busy getting two degrees in a foreign language, while working with old people with mental illness, working on creating an art exhibit in a few months, im just

Graphite brown- desert colors

Or good dirt colors

Charcoal- black

Charcoal brown

Grafite

Oil pastels

Charcoal

Watercolor paper

Ink

Silk painting

Sag sun

Taurus moon

Leo risinh

My new perspective:

Mashiach will come and ill live forever so really 27 is a blip.

Is there something wrong with me that i dont see sleeping around and getting guys off as something enticing. Like i feel like even if i wasnt religious im not numb. Theres a lack of sensitivity to bodies and who gets to be around them. Theres a cockiness.

I am an artist. That means i love vintage pieces

Im lucky to be alive

I like my bright red coat

Tell me u have adhd without saying u have adhd:

Mad sensory issues. Ive always had issues with the way things feel, but lately ive just been accepted all my sensory quirkiness. Skirts have become uncomfortable so ive into dresses with pants that have an elastic top. So it looks like i got dressed but the clothes feel more like pajamas and can be looser. I have a certain toothpaste but they stopped selling it so i went to three stores trying to find a toothpaste i could tolerate. Sucked it up that mine just isnt a thing anymore, bought toothpaste, tried it to see if the taste and texture would bother me and it turns out i kind of like it more maybe. It's creamier if that makes sense. Sensory issues mean i cant wear belts, its just too restricting. And i want

I have different modes. I have a mode when im on. When im funny and crazy and wild and will do anything to make the people around me laugh. I will make a fool of myself and be a complete goofball. Thats when im on. When im off, i dont need to be the funniest person in the room. I dont need to be loud. I dont need to make people laugh. I just need to make ppl feel seen and heard. I listen. Im sensitive to things and gentle in the way i ask questions. I receive information and just in the moment.

Eat a good amount of food

Can we just take a second: i love my mom, but when i was growing up, my grandmother told me about bras and periods. And i had an obsession about bracess.

Ok. This is me accepting the fact that a big part of my paycheck will go to art supplies. Thats it. As an artist i need to make pretty things and the materials fpr those pretty things require going to a claustrophobic shop amd buying overpriced tziyud because thats life. Breathe in. Breathe out. Accept it and move on. You'll be happy woth it when u see all the pretty stuff ull make. For now, just hand the devil ur credit card.

When ur last pair of boots were broken in by a friend and ur wore them for five years until they fell apart. And now ur wearing new boots amd trying to break them in

[zushimart]

hi idk if this is a weird ask or not bc im half asleep but i just wanted to say that i started following u on my old blog in late 2022 like maybe december and your posts about bpd scara made me feel so seen. i wasn't diagnosed then but it was recently on the table as a diagnosis for me all of a sudden and it was terrifying because i feel like pwbpd are demonized and hated everywhere i look. and just like scrolling thru ur bpd scara tag was like looking at a diary of my own mind or smth. so it was really new to me to see someone talk about borderline as something that brings love and pain into our lives and not just as some scary evil-people diagnosis. like ur definitely my fav writer on this app by far but also u make me feel really validated in my emotions i guess? wow idk sorry like i actually have no idea how to describe it but hopefully u can read minds ‼️ 🤞 i have since been diagnosed with bpd with a criteria score of 9/9 so 😳 idk where id be rn in september 2023 if i hadn't sort of started to learn to love myself from your writings exploring a character. so yea this is probably a strange ask so feel free to ignore it. also im going on anon bc im scared of interacting w ppl. ALSO U R SO FUNNY ND YOUR HUMOR/RANDOM FUNNY TAGS FEEL SO SIMILAR TO MY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

this is such an open & genuine thing to say to me . i like had to sit with it for a second because it was so .. idk like how to communicate it . my devaluation of ths blog is pretty frequent, treating it sort of like a big boy version of the 2000s children’s diaries with locks.. my thoughts tossed in here nd piled nd piled nd piled, endlessly messy. nd it objectively is a writing blog , like yeah, on a surface level, i own& maintain a writing blog, but i would never tell people that. when people ask my hobbies i always say writing & ill show them my poetry pieces but i never tell them i have a blog because im kind of embarrassed by the very seriously delusional self indulgence i pour into this thing . but then i hear about.. like, for ex. we learned ab and have to maintain our own commonplace book in class, which is essentially where people collected anything and everything they felt needed to be archived from their day and tucked it into the pages of a journal . like how thomas jefferson’s commonplace book will have his serious philosophical & political ramblings side by side a recipe for cornbread because it was just a place to put everything big & small . the practical & the theoretical. just, whatever Means something to u. and leisure, indulgence, pleasure r concepts just as important as virtues imo. anyway i say all this to say that what u said to me makes me want to treat everything better, even this place. it like, makes me feel really proud of my writing& analyses that i might normally b quick to label as inconsequential or childlike because im scared people will think i care too much about something so culturally insignificant. but i do care!! obviously!! a lot. i was like kind of bummed today for a number of reasons frm feeling a bit isolated to feeling like living out my principles& ideals (connecting w community, peer centered thinking etc etc) is almost impossible because im sooo freaking shitty at social convention. so when u sent this in & i read it, it was almost like when ur spacing out nd someone snaps 🫰🫰 in front of ur face to get ur attn. so busy trying 2 b significant to someone to realize that u Already are significant in a myriad of little ways. that it’s not something u search for or insert urself into but rather an inevitable outcome of existing. Anyway . not to b sentimental but i wanted 2 b as candid with u because i really did think it was sweet of u to share & im really happy that i was able 2 positively shape & support a little space of ur life because really thats all i ever want to do. Soooooooooo if ur ask was weird then my response is even weirder. Handwritten thank u:

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer really shouldn't be telling nuns- brothers? Nuns... Adam about why he's here, but he feels drawn to him. Like he could open his sould and bare his darkest secrets. But God gave him strength. Only a little bit of strength- and today has been a full on day; spending over 7 hours with Alastor, most of which were alone, the pop quiz through out the tour, finding the nun then sorting the nun out. Lucifer can handle this.

Lucifer: i-i u-uh um well- I

Smooth, as always, Lucifer.

Lucifer blushed as Adam started laughing, he had to take a sip of water to stop himself from coughing. Lucifer looked around and saw some of the other nuns staring at Adam, who was still laughing. Shoving a piece of food in his mouth, Lucifer waiting for Adam to stop laughing, he wasn't complaining, he had a lovely laugh, but it was getting a tad embarrassing with the amount of people looking at them.

Adam: sorry! Sorry! You're adorable, stumbling over your words. I hope I didn't make you nervous- I have a habit of doing that to the new ones

Lucifer: n-no you're fine! It's just been... a day! With the nun and Alastor- it's been full on

Adam: oh, you spent it with Al? He's a great guy once you get to know him, he has a way with the women here. Very charming, you know how it is

Lucifer: seriously? Him? Charming? When was the last time he brushed his teeth?!

Adam laughed again, but this time he tried to stop himself as he saw Alastor look over to him.

Adam: that's a good question! He's what we call a 'naturalist '. He hunts deer and boars in the forest not far from here, he's very good at it. Strolling in with a carcass over his shoulder just drenched in blood~. He gets a bit to excited while skinning those animals, I think so anyway

Lucifer: you're... charmed by him, to?

Adam: hell no! Alastor doesn't swing that way- or anyway! He's very unique. Unfortunately for him, a lot of the other nuns don't understand what he means when he says he's "not interested"

Adam smirks, and leans back, staring at Alastor who had gone back to eating. He was getting his ear talked off by one of the nuns, Mimzy. Adam doesn't like her, she acts like everything is a performance but the worst thing is she thinks she's the lead part. An hour or two alone with Adam will make her realize how much of a background character that is.

Lucifer: doesn't... swing that way? You're losing me, Adam

Adam: we wouldn't want that! I mean, he doesn't do that whole sex thing, i dont know if hes ever had a partner, but the nuns here are clawing at eachother to be with him. I've seen a couple like him over the years, but none are as special as Alastor~. That man has a darkness about him, I'm just waiting for him to slip up~.

Lucifer: that's... a lot to unpack

Adam: don't unpack then, I'm just chatting- I hope I'm not taking you away from your meal

Lucifer almost chocked on the food he was swallowing, Adam's eyes were on him. He knew they were gorgeous but seeing them up close was a whole different feeling. He's never seen eyes like his, they were almost gold- maybe they were more honey.

Adam: now, I asked you a question, before I yapped your ear off. What are you doing here, father?

Lucifer: oh uh... that's... confidential

Adam: hm, big word. So, a secret huh? Well, that's nothing special, everyone here is hiding something... including me

Adam winked at Lucifer, who definitely caught it this time.

Lucifer: oh- it's nothing like that! Just Vatican shit, nothing important!

Adam: you sure? A lot of people here would do anything to get a job from the Vatican~. You must be very good at this whole godly thing!

Lucifer: it's nothing! Just- my dad was pretty high up, so I kinda already had a slot to slide into. But I know big shoes to fill- I'm one of the youngest priests there so there's a lot of pressure on me

Adam: I could imagine. I suppose they would only send the most dedicated worshipers to the middle of no where, to some old monastery that's filled to the brim with dead nuns and priests

Lucifer: yeah- well, the dead people thing is definitely new information. I only got told that there was something evil here and I'm ment to fix it, bring God's heavenly light into the hearts of everyone here, fulling the halls with his love and adoration. It won't be easy, but I'm sure I can make some sort of impact.

Lucifer didn't see Adams expression change, who tried hard not to scowl at the mention of God. Adam was gripping the table legs, digging his claws into it, leaving jagged cuts in the wood.

Adam: well! Good luck with thay- you're going to need it~. I hope this... "evil" gets sorted quickly so you can get back to... whatever it is you were doing before~

Lucifer was taken a back as Adam quickly got up, grabbing his plate and walking away. Lucifer continued ti watch him as he exited the dining room. He could have sworn he looked mad. Maybe it was something he said? Shit. Lucifer just told him everything as to why he was here. But it was vague, as vague as the Vatican was to Lucifer. Maybe this wouldn't be an issue- it isn't an issue, this was fine. He'll talk to Adam later.

Lucifer jumped and looked around as a chair as pulled out and a man sat down. He leaned forward, trying to get as close as possible. Anthony- Angel, smiled at Lucifer.

Angel: so, you and Adam~? You better watch that one Luci, he'll eat you up and spit you out.

Lucifer: and that's a... bad thing?

Angel: ooh~, you're kinky! And yeah, it's definitely a bad thing. Adams... been here a long ass time. Like really fucking long. He was here before Alastor!

Lucifer: Adam doesn't look that old... you sure?

Angel: uh- yeah, I'm fucking sure. Some of us are trying to figure out his skin care routine, the lack of wrinkles and acne is INSANE! And not to mention fucking criminal that he doesn't share his products with us... bitch

Lucifer: how old do you think he is?

Angel: me? I think he's 45... maybe 55 but even 45 is pushing it

Lucifer: ...and what do the others think?

Angel: they think he's hundreds of years old. Fucking Susan had evidence to prove it, to! Photos and shit- she was against him, she actually almost managed to get him kicked out

Lucifer; seriously? You'll have to show me those photos- and how did Susan almost get Adam kicked out?

Angel: he was fucking the last Father in charge, the one before Alastor. Fuckimg HARD. Like, every night. Freaky shit, to. You could hear them from the hall! Apparently Adam use to blow him while he was giving his sermons! If you go to the lectern in the church, you can see where his hands gripped the wood. Fuck I would have loved to have seen that~. Fucking Adam is hornier than me! And that's saying something!

Lucifer: has he... fucked you?

Angel: don't tell anyone... but yeah, we've spent a few nights together- and not just for fucking! He's great to talk to- when I was having issues, he actually helped me. I got with my boy- partner- because of him

Lucifer: I'm completely fine with gay people, Angel, if that's what youde worried about

Lucifer offered Angel a smile, who instantly calmed down.

Angel: how did you know?

Lucifer: ... you're names Angel?

Angel: point taken. Anyway, I better get back to my table- but we'll definitely catch up again! I'd like to get to know you

Lucifer: thanks Angel, we should... get drinks?

Angel: fuck yeah, I knew you were fun~

Angel stood up, and waved go him as he walked off. Lucifer had a lot to think about. How fucking old is Adam? Oh well, he needs to go check on him anyway, make sure he isn't to pissed off at Lucifer.

After 30 or so minutes, dinner was finished, some went to back to their rooms, while others went to the church to prey. Lucifer had drawn a map of the place while Alastor was showing him around, well, he tried to. All he mapped was Adams room. For completely normal reasons.

In his hand was a piece of cake wrapped in a napkin, seeing as Adam left before desert, Lucifer thought this would be a great peace offering.

Alastor: ah! Lucifer!

Fucking- God damn it.

Lucifer: Father Alastor! Good evening!

Alastor: yes, good evening! Not often I see someone wander these halls at such a late hour

Lucifer: just off to see Adam- to apologize

Alastor: Adam? I doubt you have anything to apologize for, that one's a bit temperamental. One minute he's all cherry and laughing with yoh- the next he's looking at you like you're his dinner. I'd watch myself around him, if I were you

Lucifer felt uneasy about all of this. First Suster Susan had an issue with Adam, Angel said he's been here for who knows how long and now Alastor was telling him to watch himself. What- who is Adam, exactly?

Lucifer: I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you Father. But I'll keep your words in mind- I better get going before the icing melts

Alastor: very well. See you in the morning, I hope~.

And with that, Alastor walked away. Lucifer watched as he left, maybe he should go to bed and eat the cake himself... but he's so close to Adams room. And he really did feel bad- and he did kind of tell Adam about the apparent evil that festered here.

Lucifer: fuck it.

Lucifer made his way to Adams door. He smiled at the name tag on the wood, it was written in what looked like a gold gel pen, with a few hearts around it. How cute, Adam was too sweet to be as bad or suspicious as everyone keeps saying. With that, lucifer fixed his grip on the cake, and knocked on the door.

Lucifer: here goes nothing...

Devil and the Priest!au

(Feel free to change the name- it's 1am where I am, so my brain is starting to fry lol)

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @fanofstuff01

---

Lucifer drove through the country side, he's been behind the wheel for nearly 5 hours. He didn't realize how much of a drive getting to this monastery. He knew it was remote but this is getting ridiculous- he should have brought snacks.

He glanced out his window every now and then to take in the scenery. He's currently driving past a large body of water, where he spotted a small island. He wishes he was over there, with no worries or expectations. With no one but himself. The Vatican has been on his ass lately about making this trip. Apparently, there was something 'dark- and 'unsettling' at this monastery. If any of the priests he knew were anything to go by, it was probably just them. He swore they refused to die, they had more wrinkles than brain cells.

Lucifer turned his radio up, some type of rock song was one, it was a big no no to be listening to music like this, it's his car. Driver picks the music, and the Vatican shuts their cake hole.

Finally, as the sun was setting, Lucifer arrived at the monastery. The large stone building loomed over him, maybe the Vatican was right, this place was unsettling. He felt like he was being watched, the multiple colours in the sky masking how decrepit this place actually is. Pulling out a brochure from his pocket, Lucifer couldn't help but smirk, they're really trying to market this place like it's a holiday retreat.

Lucifer: "Welcome to the Hazbin. Find not only sanctuary and enlightenment but also beaches and the best crab around!" ...right, definitely staying away from the crab then...

After an exhausted sign, Lucifer licked his car and picked up his bags. Making his way towards the large wooden doors, Lucifer couldn't help but dread the next two or three hours, all he wanted was to hop into bed and close the world off foe a few hours but he'd probably have to take the whole tour and- ew- meeting people.

He shuddered at the thought.

Lucifer: I wonder if I could convince them to leave the formalities till tomorrow...

Lucifer gripped a huge, iron door knocker and banged it three times. He knew this could take a while so he prepared to get comfortable- until the door was pulled open.

Priest: Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin! How can I assist you this fine evening!

Lucifer: uh- yeah- hi, my name Luicfer, I've been told to come here by the Vatican- I've been told you're expecting me...?

Priest: hm... Lucifer...

The man flicked through a small book, humming every so often. What's the point in having glasses if you still can't read a damn book.

Lucifer: look man- sir- it's been a long drive, I'd really like to just get to sleep-

Priest: ah! Yes! Here you are, Lucifer! Please, come right in! We've been expecting you for hours, your overseer said you would be here this morning- but better late than never I suppose!

The man moved aside to let Lucifer in. He really didn't like this guy, but that's not new, priest are pretty... eccentric.

The man shit the door behind him, using at least six locks to secure it.

Priest: pardon my manners, Lucifer! My name is Alastor- Father Alastor. And I'll be your superior while you're here

Ah, great. He has to answer to this... lovely man. Forcing a smile, Lucifer did what he did best: lie.

Lucifer: that's very exciting Father Alastor, look forward to working with you and getting to know this place more personally!

Alastor: oh, I could imagine! I'm sure you've heard a lot about me! I've been in charge of five other monasteries before this one! All saw a raise in volunteers and profits.

Lucifer: that's fantastic, Father. It's a real honor to be working on this project with you-

Alastor: "project", yes, that's one word to describe it.

Alastor lead Lucifer down a long hall, hebcouldbt believe how quiet it was. He was told there were at least 60-70 nuns and other workers here but it just seemed abandoned.

Thankfully, Alastor showed Lucifer to his room, it was large with a queen bed in the middle. It didn't have much furniture, just a set of draws and a desk out looking the garden. It was dead and overgrown, but the air was fresh, he'll have to start taking up writing again.

Alastor: well! Lucifer, it is a real pleasure to have you here! Tomorrow I'll show you around and I introduce you to some of the other occupants here- there are quite a few so I do expect you to introduce yourself to some of them in your own time.

Lucifer dumped his bags on his bed, and turned to face Alastor.

Lucifer: that understandable. Thank you for this Alastor, I'll see you in the morning-

Alastor: bright and early Mr Lucifer. I like to get the day started as the break of dawn

Of course he does.

Lucifer: great! I better get some sleep then

Alastor: yes, you should. Goodnight Lucifer

Finally, Lucifer was alone. Or at least he hoped. He still hasn't shaking that feeling from earlier. Except this time, he was certain nothing was watching him, Alastor seemed to be the only other living thing here. And that's giving the bastard a lot of credit. Not once did he stop smiling- Lucifer already wants to wipe that look off his face.

All Lucifer wanted to do was sleep, so he got comfortable and started to drift off.

[muniimyg]

XOXO // KSJ

things untold; a collection of fleeting moments

; the one where oc wins

navi | m. list | ask me ! |

pairing: irritating ! seok jin + uptight ! oc 

au/genre: 

best friends to lovers 

crack, slight smut implications, and fluf

warnings: 

mentions of DILF seokjin

FLIRTY VIBES / playful banter

s e x u a l ,,, t e n s i o n

tones of one-sided pining 

wc: 

800ish

tag: @thispenguinrocks

“I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were this stupid.”

Seok Jin looks at you playfully, putting his hands up in defense. “Ah, and now you’re upset—just as I said you would be.. See? This is why you shouldn’t have forced me to say it. I’m always right.”

“You shouldn’t have thought of it in the first place!”

He can’t help but let himself laugh. Offended, you shove his chest, pushing him away and beginning to pack your belongings.

It’s kind of stupid given you have a drawer in his bedroom.

Whatever.

Fuck this sleepover. 

Fuck this Modern Family marathon. 

Fuck Kim Seok Jin and his need to always be right. It’s not that he made you feel dumb.. Despite calling you stupid, he never really made you actually feel stupid. If anything, Seok Jin challenges you in every way possible. It’s childish, but it’s innocent and keeps you on your toes. 

“Awh, don’t go!” he whines, immediately composing himself. “I’m sorry,” 

You stop packing. 

Wait for it.

“For being fucking right! Enjoy taking the bus home, kid.”

There it is.

You turn to him, arms crossed, and ready to cut this bitch. You’re too furious to even piece together why you’re still friends with this man. As supportive and funny Seok Jin is—he is just as ignorant and infuriating. Nothing can explain why you put up with his bullshit. At the same time, nothing can explain why you should walk away from him.

“You seriously believe that if we kissed, I would have a harder time getting over it than you?” you fume, looking at him up and down. 

Weak. 

This man is weak! He’s nothing but a big softie. He’s bluffing. 

“I said what I said,” he insists. “Do you honestly think you could get over me?” Seok Jin gestures all over his body before circling around his face. He points at his lips and purses them. 

“Ha!” you laugh, slapping your hand on top of his so he hits his own face. He blinks, making a dizzy face as he recovers from your abuse. “As if I’d ever willingly get under you.”

Seok Jin scratches the back of his head while biting his inner cheek. With a cocky tone, he smirks; “want a bet?”

“Sorry, I don’t talk to losers.”

He takes a step closer to you, closing in and definitely taking a risk with the atmosphere. If this was a chance, he’d take it.  

“Is that so?” Seok Jin taunts with a smug look.

“Yeah,” you gulp, realizing that you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in towards him, “or old men.”

Seok Jin tilts his head, biting his lower lip. His eyes flicker to yours before huffing, “some may argue that I’m DILF material.”

Truth be told, he secretly loved the fact that he was older than you. In any and every way, he used it to cockblock anything that had to do with the possibility of losing you. He’d lie a lot whenever you mention a new boy—assuring you that they would be a certain way because he knows “guys like them.” Seok Jin would do so much as tease you of being wrong so you could obsess over proving him otherwise. This way, he’d occupy your time, your mind, and hopefully your heart.

Liking you was time consuming. He just wants to make it even. When it comes down to it, you weren’t stupid or always losing. A big part of him wishes you knew him a little better.

You won.

With your gummy smile, your puffy cheeks, and fighting spirit.. To Seok Jin, you’ve already won.

He’s so sure you’d get over him too. If you two ever kissed, dated, or fucked—you’d probably get over him. He thinks of you highly like that.

Then, that leaves him to be the one to lose. That’s annoying because he’s a sore loser and has no intention on ever improving his attitude.

But you..

You make it so easy to give in. He’d be lying if he said provoking you isn’t fun. It’s a good time and sometimes he did go too far... Yet, that’s exactly why he likes you so much. You’d muster the courage to say something just as nasty back.

When he met you, he met his match.

“Like who?” you say dismissively. 

“You.”

Your eyes widen at his answer. 

What was he talking about? He’s crazy. He’s freaking insane and is saying anything to prove that he’s right. Seok Jin has always been prideful when it comes to you.. Has and always will treat you like a baby. 

“What?” 

“You called me a DILF once,” he reminisces, squinting and looking to the side. 

Aha. 

As if he had enough brain cells to hold memories— 

“At that party three months ago. You were drunk and we were playing kiss, marry, fuck with everyone. You said you’d fuck me,” he reveals softly. You can’t pinpoint it or even understand why.. But he sounds sincere. 

For the first time, Seok Jin sounds like he needs something from you.. Maybe even desperate. It’s as if he needed you to remember.. Needed you to tell him again; “I choose you. I’d fuck you. You’re DILF material. Shit would be so hot.”

“We’re not talking about fucking right now though,” you snort, completely unbothered. “We’re talking about kissing.”

“Do it then,” he proposes, snaking his arms around your waist. Pulling you close, you place your hands on his broad shoulders to establish the little distance between you two.

Seok Jin looks at you fondly and his mind spins. He wants to abort what his heart is pressing on him to do.

It used to be so simple.

If he has you, he wins.

If he doesn’t, he loses.

It’s now he realizes, as he looks into your eyes and gets lost in them; that it’s better to lose and have had you than to win and never know.

“What?”

“Kiss me,” Seok Jin tells you, “go ahead, ___. Prove my theory wrong.”

[littlesniggy]

Could you a scenario where the reader is hanging out laundry on the ship and she puts her underwear that’s Lacey and sexy. Then their entire crew sees it and how he reacts to that.could u do this for shanks, Rayleigh, Gaban,ace, Marco

Hey Anon! Thanks for requesting! I really liked this idea and I hope I could do it justice! No Ace again since he was on the no-no list for this round but I still have him in there a little ✌🏼️

Warnings: not really

Characters: Shanks, Rayleigh, Gaban, and Marco

Shanks

He was sitting on deck, his most trusted men surrounding him while he explained to them a new strategy how to handle a certain problem they currently had. It wasn’t anything big but big enough to be a nuisance. All of them were listening intently, not wanting to miss any of Shanks’ explanation. They all liked goofing around but when it went down to business Shanks knew he could trust them.

That is, until Lucky Roux stopped eating his food, his eyes not on the map in front of them anymore but instead fixated on something a little further away. Benn was the second one to notice, an amused smile coming to his lips. One after another started ignoring their captain in favor of watching you hang up your, admittedly, sexy lingerie.

You noticed them watching and waved over at them with a smile before focusing back on hanging up your laundry. After all, it needed to dry.

“Once you’re done staring, I would like you perverts to start paying attention to me again. I know the thought of seeing Y/n in this kind of underwear is quite appealing but none of you will ever see her actually wear it.” Shanks didn’t look up while he was speaking to his friends and the grin on his face would tell them he wasn’t mad at them in any way. After all, you were a sight to behold, even without the lingerie on.

Silvers Rayleigh

“Is there a specific reason why you’re hanging up your underwear outside?” you heard a certain man’s voice from behind and you turned around with a smug grin, looking at him challenging. “No, not really. Just want it to get dry fast…” you purred, not waiting for his reaction.

“Is that so? You sure it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I ignored you just this morning while you were wearing that specific piece?” he pointed at the black laced bodice you were just hanging up. “Not at all…” you giggled, internally still pissed that he chose his duty as Roger’s right hand man over fucking you. Well, now he could see what he was missing out on! Now, everyone could see what you were wearing underneath!

Rayleigh chuckled, came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Alright then. Let them have a look, I don’t care. As long as you don’t wear it for anyone but me you can do whatever you like.” He purred, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek, making you blush slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You murmured, a little disappointed when he already let go of you.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him slowly walk away, not minding the crew shamelessly staring at your underwear.

“Oh, and don’t forget to hang it down before it starts to rain!” he informed you, pointing at the big, dark clouds that were coming closer rapidly.

Scopper Gaban

“What are you doing?! Don’t hang it out to try right in front of everyone! Your underwear is none of their business!” he hissed, trying to stop you from hanging up more of your lingerie. You swatted his hand away playfully, giggling at him. “Why are you making such a fuss about it? It’s not like they haven’t seen me wearing a bikini before so how’s this different?” you asked.

“Well….it’s sexier!” he kept trying, giving you really weak arguments why you should not hang them up right in front of his crew. “Besides, here are children on board! You don’t want to expose them to this and maybe traumatize them.” You rolled your eyes, putting your hands on your hips.

“I doubt they even know what this-“ you pointed at your bodice “-is. And as long as you don’t tell them, they won’t know until they’re old enough. I’m not wearing it anyways so stop being so dramatic, okay?” you said it with a slight hint of humor, loving how he was at a loss for words.

“Fine….but I hate them knowing what you wear underneath your outfit!” he said, pointing at stupidly grinning men, obviously thinking something dirty. “Fuck off, you bastards!” he yelled angrily.

Marco

“Oh, I didn’t know you were wearing this underneath your clothes.” You heard a familiar voice behind you. With a slightly surprised look on your face you turned around only to see Ace crouching next to the laundry basket, a string tanga dangling from his index finger. You snatched it from him, your face heating up at his comment.

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You replied, not knowing a better answer to his comment. “Bet it looks good on you.” He chuckled. Before you could retort something, you saw a shadow fly over you and land right behind Ace, an amused look on his face.

“She does but you will never see her actually wear it. So, all you’re gonna be stuck with are your shitty imaginations that will never do Y/n justice.” He chuckled. Ace looked up at the first division commander, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Nah, I would never dare think about Y/n this way. But I can’t talk for those guys.” He pointed at the rest of the crew; some trying to be sneaky and just trying to take a quick look, others shamelessly checking out your underwear.

“If you bastards have time to stare, you have time to work.” A deep, intimidating voice cut through the air like a sword, the caught men tensing up. “Whitebeard looked over to you from where he was sitting, not looking too amused.

“I guess pops is taking care of them for me.” Marco chuckled, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead before smacking Ace over the head with a small grin for touching your tanga.

[tenswrld]

old enough to understand

mark lee x reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff

summary: now that you’re older, you seem to finally understand how mark makes you feel

a/n: came up with this at 2am while listening to my mark lee dedicated playlist and pluto projector came on and u already know that one part made me emotional also do u like my doodles i made on the photo ^^

growing up, you were surrounded by the concept of love. you witnessed it with your parents, when you got your first pet, and even when you took your first bite into your favorite fruit.

when you first met mark lee at the age of 6, you didn’t think that the word love would apply to him. at least, not in the way that you knew it. 

“no! it’s mine, i don’t want to give you any!” the young boy yelled.

“you can just go get more! i just want some watermelon!” you screamed back.

“go get some yourself!”

angry, you stomped away towards the table of adults. “mrs. lee, mark won’t give me a piece of his watermelon.”

the older woman laughed softly before getting up and leading you to the table of fruit. “forgive him, watermelon is his favorite. i’ll be sure to make sure he shares next time, okay?”

while you ate your own fruit alone in the grass, mark came up to you scratching his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “i’m sorry for being rude...i just really like watermelon...”

you narrowed your eyes at him before bursting into a fit of giggles, offering your own watermelon out to him. “it’s okay, mark, i like watermelon too. i understand.” he took the piece that you held out to him and took a seat next to you.

when you first met mark, you didn’t think anything of him except for that he was the dorky boy next door who seemed to reserve the concept of love for his favorite fruit.

in middle school, you and mark seemed to clash heads more often than not, and you found it hard to stick around him. desperate to seem cool in front of the new friends that he made, mark steered away from you and teased you whenever he saw you in the halls. you almost despised him in your middle school years, but no matter how much teasing he did mark always waited for you outside of the school gates and walked you home safely. 

though he was still unsure of the role you had in his life, mark knew that he wanted to keep you around.

in high school, your parents fantasized about the idea of the two of you dating, but you and mark always recoiled at the thought. friend groups and social status set you and mark even further apart and before you knew it you became a messenger to girls who wanted mark to call their own. when you got your first boyfriend in sophomore year, mark tried to warn you that the guy was no good, but like always you never listened to him. when he broke your heart, you expected mark to scold you and tell you he told you so, but he provided you comfort in his arms instead.

though he didn’t love you then, mark vowed that he would never let your heart get broken again.

when it came time for you and mark to go off to college, you found yourself a lot more upset than you had initially thought you would be. you were excited to go off and find yourself elsewhere, but something about not having the silly, brown haired boy by your side 24/7 felt strange. granted, you two weren’t as close as your six year old self thought you would be, but you found that you and mark held a special type of bond that you feared you wouldn’t find anywhere else. 

you still hadn’t figured out your love for mark lee, but you knew that leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.

“just...promise to call often, okay?” you told him as you walked with him to his car, a box of his things in your arms.

mark’s lips curled up into a smug smile. “why? gonna miss me that much?” 

you rolled your eyes. “you’re making me regret saying that. you’ll be lucky if i don’t block you after this, idiot.”

mark laughed loudly and you found yourself smiling softly at the sound. you placed the box in his truck before you both turned to each other. “i’ll text you everyday and call when i can. don’t worry, you can’t get rid of me that easily. you’ll probably be hearing about my uncontrollable gas everyday so if that’s not what you’re looking for then...”

you laughed and shoved his shoulder, mumbling for him to shut up. “it’s gonna be weird without you, i think.”

mark shrugged. “yeah, well, we’ll see each other again. just think about it like that time where you got so mad at me for blowing up your house in minecraft that you ignored me for a week!”

mark expected you to laugh but became concerned when he saw your lip quivering and your eyes threatening to spill tears. “y/n? sorry, is that, like, a sensitive memory?”

when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his torso and mumbled a soft ‘i’ll miss you’ into his chest, mark cursed at himself for being the first one to fall in love.

___

“isn’t it like 4am for you? you should go to bed,” you scolded him half heartedly. you sat at your vanity on facetime with a sleepy mark as you did your nightly skincare routine.

mark groaned through the phone and shook his head. “but i wanna talk to you,” he whined groggily. “i miss you.”

your cheeks heat up and you smiled shyly. “i miss you too, mark.”

mark blinked slowly with a tired look, his hair all messed up and his face in need of a shave. he watched you silently as you rubbed your moisturizer into your skin, smiling at the sight. “...you’re really pretty you know that?”

you froze and chuckled nervously, keeping yourself busy with your moisturizer so you didn’t have to see the way mark was looking at you. “you’re talking nonsense again.”

he grumbled, “i’m not talking any nonsense. you’re so pretty, y/n, i miss seeing your face. i hate facetime and my shit wifi.”

“you’re rambling, marky, go to bed,” you ushered him, this time grabbing your phone to look at him.

he smiled fondly at you. “i like it when you call me marky.”

“okay, i’ll call you it more if you go to bed.” 

mark huffed and complied, bidding you one last goodbye. “fine. i miss you so much, y/n, call me tomorrow.”

“okay, i will.”

“promise?” mark asked softly, peeking open one eye to look at you.

“i promise, you big baby.”

“okay, goodnight. love you,” mark mumbled softly into his pillow, already half asleep.

your breath hitched in your throat at his words. you two hardly ever said that phrase to each other but you began to realize that nowadays mark seemed to say it quite often. before, you’d probably make a face in disgust at the cheesiness, but now it only made your stomach sick with butterflies.

“yeah, love you too, marky. sleep tight.” 

already fast asleep, mark stayed silent. your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, but you waited a few more seconds just to look at how peaceful mark looked. you could see the sky turning from a dark black to a paler blue from his window, making you frown since the boy had stayed up so late. before you could look at him any longer, you ended the call and sat back in your chair.

loving mark lee had always seemed impossible to you, but now you realized that it was the one thing that you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

___

you spent a lot of time thinking about your feelings for mark while you were away and most of it was you being in denial. you thought that maybe it was just because you weren’t used to being so far away from him, but deep down you knew otherwise. your friends had tried setting you up on blind dates, yet no one seemed to fill in the gap that you felt you had in your heart.

after you finished your first year of college, your mother began to pester you about having a boyfriend for you to bring home for the holidays. yet no matter how many guys you thought about, your mind would always bring you back to mark.

it was now christmas time and your family and mark’s family were going to have a small get together, meaning that you and mark would get to spend time with each other in person again. you weren’t sure if you should tackle mark at the sight of him, but you figured he would do the same to you anyway.

“y/n, sweetheart! my gosh, it’s been so long! you’ve grown up so well,” mark’s mother cooed as she gave you a warm hug.

you chuckled and returned her hug, replying with, “thank you, mrs. lee. it’s nice to see you again.”

she playfully nudged your shoulder. “any boyfriend yet?”

you laughed awkwardly and shook your head, looking away. “oh, um, no...not yet.”

she beamed. “mark will be happy to hear that.” she said it so fast that you almost didn’t catch it. “he’s out back waiting for you. i told him i’d tell him when you got here, but it’ll be a nice surprise for him,” she winked.

you thanked her briefly before making your way to the backyard excitedly. you thought that you’d be more nervous facing the boy you loved but, frankly, all you wanted to do was finally tell him that you loved him.

when you opened the door mark immediately turned his head, expecting to see his mom, but his facial expression completely changed when he saw you. he ran up to you with the brightest smile on his face and engulfed you into his arms. you laughed joyously into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you as close to his chest as humanly possible.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that,” he mumbled into your hair.

you smiled against his shoulder before pulling away to look at him. the two of you held eye contact for what felt like an eternity before mark finally returned his arms back to his side.

“even though we call everyday, it feels like i’m meeting you for the first time all over again,” mark said with a light laugh.

“i hope i lived up to your expectations, then,” you joked.

mark smiled fondly at you before brushing snow out of your hair. “definitely above expectations.”

you blushed at his comment but thanked the cold weather for hiding your rosy cheeks. before you could make more small talk, mark burst out into another sentence.

“y/n, i have to get this off of my chest before i explode,” he blurted.

your eyes widened and you nodded your head. “oh, um, okay, what is it?”

he gripped at his hair and turned around, beginning to whine. “oh my god, i’m gonna sound like the biggest idiot on earth. please don’t hate me after this.”

“...what did you do, mark?”

“i didn’t do anything! well...” he faced you again with a sigh and grabbed your hands taking you by surprise. “y/n, i’m in love with you. and i know you probably just see me as that stupid annoying boy your mom forced you to be friends with but i’ve loved you for over a year and it’s driving me crazy and i-”

“mark!” you interrupted him, placing a hand over his mouth. he looked at you with wide eyes while you smiled at him, practically glowing with happiness. you removed your hand from over his mouth and he sighed again.

“just reject me so i can go cry in my room.” mark shut his eyes and prepared himself for rejection but it never came.

“i love you too, mark.”

mark opened one at to stare at you suspiciously. “...really? like, seriously?”

you chuckled. “yes, really. for a few months now.”

“wait, you’re not pranking me or anything, right?” mark asked with a small laugh.

you glared at him.��“mark...”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really surprised!” mark opened his mouth to say something but then gasped and dug into his back pocket to grab something.

when he pulled out a small piece of mistletoe you seemed to fall in love with the brunette boy all over again. he grabbed one of your hands and gently pulled you closer to him, using the other hand to hold the mistletoe over your guys’ heads. 

“i brought this just in case. i know that you’ve always fantasized about a moment like this so...” he said sheepishly. “kiss me?”

you laughed and brushed his hair out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks and placing a soft kiss on his lips. you felt him smile into the kiss, making you laugh and pull away.

“been waiting for that one too, huh?” you teased.

mark waved the mistletoe above the two of you and shook his head. “less talking and more kissing please...”

it took you over 10 years for you to realize that you loved mark lee but, if you had to, you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

[tizzymcwizzy]

hello master mctizzles!! 28 & 29 for the artists ask pleae, since i know you do a fair amount of traditional? also 10! (and if u say anything other than HELL YEAH, all caps, i will have many hype words to say at you<3333)

28. For traditional artists: what medium do you like the most?

OHHH INK DIP PENS MY BELOVED

god i miss her, i haven't done an ink peice in so long this is making me yearn

for those of you who are new, i used to primarily use a dip pen and watercolors for my art, you can see a general look at all the materials in this old drawing i did for class

the bottle is way fancier than need be, but i like it so i use it lmao (the ink is winsor & newton india ink and the pens are just the general dip pens you can get at michaels or hobby lobby) the water colors where the masters touch fine art studio watercolor set with 24 colors, they're the pan kind.

also i just generally like using pencil, ik very basic, but nothing will ever beat the feel of using a 6B pencil on drawing paper, immaculate 🤌

29. For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece?

I usually start with a thumbnail in my sketchbook or on a scrap piece of paper to get a general sense of the composition, and do some bigger sketches if i want to map out specific poses that might be difficult later

then I do a light sketch with as much detail as i can on a taped down peice of watercolor paper, then i ink it, erase the sketch, clean up some of the lineart with a white gel pen (sometimes white paint if I bungle it enough) and then go in with watercolor, going from dark to light, then shading over everything after the first layer is dry.

(I KNOW I KNOW, ur supposed to go from lights to darks in watercolor, and I do if I'm doing like a painting, but it's much easier for me to fill in all of chat's black and marinette's hair before i go back in to work on the grey's, and by that point im using less and less pigment the more I paint, as my little puddle of black gets smaller and smaller in my palette.)

I took a lot of process photos when i did traditional but i haven't done it in a while so these are a tad old,,

some examples of thumbnails,,

some examples of sketches

and then some lineart photos

(i usually take photos of just the lineart when im scared to start the watercolor, so theres not a lot of them)

10. Are you confident about your art?

aaahha... eh.... i answered this ask in another post, so you'll have to go there to read it,, love you maryssa, hdhdhdhf 💙

thanks for the ask!! these questions are from the artist ask game, send me some and I'll do my best to answer them!

[suguru-getos]

Hi congrats on 2k! Can i get a matchup from your event?

I'm female, she/her pronouns I'm istp 9w8 937.

PERSONALITY:

I'm ambivert,I'm very laid back and prefer to go with the flow of life but sometimes come off as ego-centric and domineering. I have to admit I’m a lazy person who prefers having a leisure more than anything else But once i find my motivation I'm actually pretty hardworking. I find it hard to get along with people who don't share my passions or hobbies or desire to excel. It would be nice to a be boss, but at the same time I like letting others operate how they want to do so. I like dealing with people at work and I want to be where all the actions, while at the same time helping people, but I just want to be left alone to do things the way I want to do it.

tbh I often think I’m above others, yet I am always willing to acknowledge that I’m a total piece of shit [very rarely tho] Sometimes i have fantasies and ideals that I want to start creating or becoming but i give myself a reality check and let the dream fade away. I’m very innovative but still choose the practical route a lot. It’s easy for me to create goals and envision the end results but it’s ridiculously hard for me to remain committed to the process.

I have a very big ego but one word alone is enough to destroy it. i Will never admit my wrong, unless internally.

LIKES:

My favourite colour is red, i love all shades of it but i especially love darker shades. I like horror genre [movies, books and etc], watching movies, listening to true crime and music[especially indie and rock music] i like Researching and learning more about myself. I love greek and Egyptian mythology. I'm really interested in psychology and philosophy. I also find researching about demonology and ancient religions interesting. I love Victorian/romantic/vampire gothic aesthetic I'm also very in love with gothic novels. I wouldn't really consider this as a hobby cause i do it once or twice a year but i also play volleyball and piano. I also really love spicy food and cats and snakes are my favourite animals.

I may not be a religious person but i love Christinan themed paintings, sculptures and buildings. I love gothic and baroque architecture.

I may not look like it and it may come of as a shocking news to a many people but i actually love and enjoy socializing.

DISLIKES:

I hate quiet places [i have trouble sleeping in quiet environment] I dislike sweet food, dogs, romance movies[i love romance genre just not in movies], "Pinterest goth" aesthetic, sweating, heat, smell of mushrooms, thought of ever growing old, getting wrinkles and dying. When grown up people act like toddlers [unless it's from a medical condition] when people make some kind of noises while drinking or eating food, cat haters, hypocritical people, i especially hate those people who say most homophobic, xenophobic and racist shit and call it a "dark humor", egg white [both smell and taste], People who ask questions during movies.

Love language:

Quality time [ giving]

Acts of service [giving]

Gift giving [ receiving]

hi i match you up w the one and oni arataki numero uno itto <3

en’s 2k event:

despite being ur polar opposite, he has high morals and standards. something he’d never sacrifice no matter what & looking for how highly u take yourself as a person, hes whipped. he loves people who love themselves. but he will love you more.

he knows you hate admitting that ur wrong, so he’d never publically argue in such a manner. however in the intimacy of the bedroom, he’d say it to you. he wants you to be vulnerable to him.

he actually asked a lot of questions in movies until he figured out you despise it ;3 then he shuts his mouth but u can still see he excitement beaming in his eyed

has no prob letting you take the lead but hes the dom in bed idc he personally told me that 💅🏻

will find the onikabuto for you for beetle fights, will probs cook the best lavender melon dishes as well <3

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[lavenderbexlatte]

holding you like this

stray kids  13.4k words female reader insert Reader x DILF!Hwang Hyunjin  EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: original characters (adult f and child f), single father, unhealthy family dynamics, relationship insecurity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink 🖤

🚨🚨 the unhealthy family dynamic warning applies to hyunjin and his parents, NOT hyunjin and his child! there are elements of emotional manipulation and emotional neglect of an adult child by his parents. please don’t read if you would find this content triggering!

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You prepare yourself for a lot of social what-ifs when you go to the grocery store, but a three-year-old almost taking you out with a headbutt to the knee isn’t usually one of them.

On this particular day, you’re standing in the coffee aisle, scanning the rows of beans, trying to pick between a new roast for your French press, or a new flavor for the automatic drip. You’re not having an easy time of it, either. They all look the same to you. And really, is a French vanilla that different from a caramel swirl? Why are some of these so expensive? They’re all just beans, aren’t they?

The coffee dilemma is taking up all of your conscious focus, so you don’t even hear the tiny footsteps clicking against the industrial tile floor. You don’t see the head of bouncing dark hair, barreling toward you. You don’t notice anything until a tiny body slams right into your leg, and little arms wrap around your knees.

You look down in shock, rocking back to steady yourself so that you don’t topple right over. Your phone nearly slips out of your hand, right onto the head of the very small human peering up at you with big round eyes.

It’s a little girl.

She has glitter extensions and a floor-brushing gown, looking royal and in control right down to the tiny Mary Janes on her feet. She doesn’t look confused or perturbed at all, not even bothered by clinging to a stranger like this. Well, that makes one of you.

“Hello,” the little girl says, her voice high but confident. “What’s your name?”

You tell her, and she nods wisely, in a way that looks incredibly bizarre for someone so young.

“Okay. I’m Minnie,” she says.

“Minnie,” your repeat.

The girl nods, her arms still clamped around your knees. “Like the mouse.”

She points at one of the barrettes clipped into her meticulously styled hair. It’s a flat metal cameo pin of Minnie Mouse, smudged with tiny fingerprints as if she touches it often.

“Cool,” you say awkwardly.

You reach down and gently unwind her arm from around you, freeing yourself, and you kneel down so that you’re at her height. She just looks directly at you, and you can feel the judgmental intelligence behind her gaze. It’s kind of scary.

“I’m three and three-quarters,” she tells you proudly.

“Where’s your grown up?” you ask her.

You don’t really think you’d be much help to this child. You certainly don’t want to have to be responsible for her for too long. Where are her parents, or whoever she came here with?

“My grown up?” she mulls it over, “You mean Daddy. He’s lookin’ at juice.”

“Why aren’t you with him?” you ask.

“Ran away,” she shrugs, “If I run, Daddy chases me.”

“Do you think Daddy likes chasing you?” you ask.

You immediately curse yourself inwardly for asking a preschooler a half-sarcastic question like that. You don’t know this kid from Eden, you can’t just mouth off at her. But Minnie is sharp, and she just smiles at you winningly.

“I dunno. Prob’ly not,” she shrugs again, and you marvel at the big attitude in this small person.

“What if he’s worried about you?”

“Then he should find me,” she answers.

And with that, the kid sits down cross-legged on top of your feet, settling her gown neatly around herself. You’re floored. Apparently, you’ve become the shade tree that this kid is gonna sit under until her poor father finds her. Are all little kids this weird?

You’re not sure what to do. If you move, if you take her and go searching, you could spend all day missing her father at every turn. That means you should probably just stay here and wait for her dad to come to you. At least this way you know the kid’s safe and not running around to meet strangers more dangerous than you.

You get back to your coffee dilemma, as Minnie just sits primly on your feet. It��s not like you could walk away without dislodging her, anyway. And as you pick out a package of coarse-ground beans for your French press, you hear it.

“Minnie!”

An exasperated voice, from the end of the aisle. You turn toward the sound, and the person that you see takes your breath away.

It’s a man, tall and slim, long legs in wide-legged denim. His hair is shoulder-length and blonde, the top half of it held back in a small ponytail at the crown of his head. His face is equal parts angry and relieved, dark thick brows furrowing. The guy is incredibly, distractingly beautiful. You kind of can’t believe it.

“Daddy,” Minnie pipes up, as if confirming it to you.

She leans back against your shins like you’re her personal throne. You look down at her, and then back up at the man as he approaches, dragging a half-full shopping cart behind him.

“I am so sorry,” the man is saying, “She has a mind of her own and sometimes-”

“I made a friend!” Minnie interrupts her father.

The man leans down and scoops his daughter off your feet, plunking her into the basket of his shopping cart.

“You’re in jail, princess,” he tells her curtly.

“I’ll get out,” she replies.

You’re sure that your jaw is actually hanging open several inches as the man turns back to you to continue his rambling apology.

“I really am sorry, um…” he pauses.

“(Y/N),” you fill in for him.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you dismiss, “She just wanted to talk. And I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost. More lost.”

The man grins at you sheepishly. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

“I like her,” Minnie calls from her shopping-cart jail cell, “She’s funny.”

“That’s a high honor,” Hyunjin tells you soberly.

“I’m glad to finally hear that someone thinks I’m funny,” you say.

Hyunjin laughs. He has a nice laugh, sharper and shriller than you would have thought, but full and honest. He looks just like Minnie when he smiles. You’re thoroughly charmed.

“Well,” you say, tugging yourself back to reality, “I have some more shopping to do, so…”

“We’re friends now!” Minnie announces.

Hyunjin glances at his daughter. “You two are friends now?”

“Yes!” the girl insists.

Hyunjin returns his gaze to you. “I guess you’re friends now. Any chance you’re up to see us again sometime?”

“See you again?” you repeat, nonplussed.

“Just for coffee, maybe. A playdate?” Hyunjin’s grin is teasing.

“Doesn’t she have other friends?” you ask, “Friends who are more…three years old?”

“Oh, sure. but Min is an equal-opportunity befriender,” Hyunjin says, “She likes everyone.”

You really don’t know what to make of this precocious little girl who’s just declared you her new friend and her very indulgent but admittedly very attractive father. You might consider that he was hitting on you, except that he’s clearly just bending to the will of his very willful child, and that he’s way, way, way out of your league.

“Sure,” you say, finally.

“Cool.”

Hyunjin pulls out his phone and offers it to you with the keypad open. You enter your number and call yourself, and you save each other’s data into your phones. ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad)’ goes in as your newest contact.

“We’ll text you to make plans!” Hyunjin promises, as he wheels his cart away.

“See you later!” Minnie calls.

She waves furiously at you until the two of them round the corner to the left, toward the checkout counters. You’re left standing there with your package of coffee and butterflies in your stomach.

Just like that, you have a new friend.

---------------

When you do eventually get a text from the number saved as ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad),’ it’s abundantly clear which of the two is doing the texting.

‘hello!!!!!!’ ‘yo u have to wear’ ‘princess dress!!!!!’

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and you’re at work, sat at your desk overlooking the production floor. Your lunch is just about to end, the boys in assembly below are already getting back to it, and you need to make this quick before your next meeting.

Hyunjin must have helped with the spelling, but that is definitely a message direct from Minnie. You’re debating how exactly to respond to this message, when a call comes in, instead. You answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” The voice on the other end is unmistakable.

“Hi, Minnie,” you say patiently.

“Did you get my text?”

“Of course,” you answer.

“Good. Wear your princess dress,” she says decisively. “Talk to Daddy now.”

The phone clatters loudly like it’s been dropped right on the floor, and you hear a shout in the background. You wince at the noise, but keep the phone pressed to your ear until Hyunjin’s voice replaces his daughter’s.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, “She decided that PJ Masks are more important than this phone call that she DEMANDED I make to invite you for coffee on Saturday.”  

“Coffee, huh?” you repeat.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin says.

You can hear real hesitation in his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him, “No, no, I think it’s cute. It’s okay.”

“She just never takes to strangers this fast,” Hyunjin explains, and you can’t quite fathom why that piece of knowledge makes your stomach swoop. “I wanna encourage her to see the world as kind of…safe and fun, y’know? Is that stupid? Like, she shouldn’t just run around with strangers, but she shouldn’t be afraid of the world, either.”

“That makes sense,” you assure him.

“We had a talk about it, I think she understands the difference.”

He’s kind of rambling at you. You wonder how often Hyunjin gets a chance to talk parenting with someone.

“No, really, I understand,” you say, “I’d love to do coffee.”

“Great,” he says, “You can meet us at this café…I’ll send you the address. It’s called Mama Dining.”

You’ve never heard of it, but you trust Minnie’s taste. Hyunjin, you can’t say for sure. But you trust that little girl with more blind conviction than is probably necessary.

“Okay, see you then,” you say.

“Cool.” You can hear Hyunjin’s smile in his voice. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“Bye!” comes Minnie’s voice, far away but loud, and you know that she must be screaming as loud as she can.

You laugh, and you hang up.

--------------- Mama Dining is a small glass-front piece of realty across from a folk medicine shop and underneath a square brick apartment building, a few metro stops away from the area where you live. It’s so stuffed full of potted plants and flowers in vases that there’s barely any surface area for anything else, but it’s clean and bright inside. The tables are mismatched with their chairs, and the whole place smells like coffee and sharp herbs and fresh bread.

It’s homey, that’s the word for it. Cozy, and homey.

You’d taken your pint-sized new friend’s advice to the letter, busting out one of the nice dresses that you save for special occasions. The last time you wore it was to a coworker’s wedding; it’s light and floaty and floral, a long floor-length skirt over a tighter inner slip. It’s the closest thing you have to a princess dress. But it’ll have to do.

You check your reflection in the glass as you pull the door open, bells tinkling above your head. As soon as you step into the café, a little voice shrieks at you.

“YES!”

Minnie is sitting at a table in the corner, in a different gown, her hair in an elaborate braided style, half-up and half-down. She’s looking at you with the utmost approval, and even though she’s a three-year-old, you still feel proud that you’re passing her test.

“A princess dress,” she says, satisfied.

“I tried my best,” you say.

You give a silly little spin on the spot, so that your skirt stands out for her, and behind you, someone laughs. You freeze, cheeks heating up.

“You look nice.”

It’s Hyunjin, because of course it is. You turn around to see him in casual jeans and a long sleeve tee, an apron tied around his waist. His hair is pulled back again, off his face. He’s gorgeous. But it kind of looks like…

“Do you work here?” you ask.

Hyunjin nods. “Easiest place to meet up is here, while I’m on shift. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him.

“I’ll get you a coffee,” he says, “What do you like?”

You tell him your regular order, and he heads to the espresso machine to start it up.

“Oh,” he calls, over the sound of the grinder, “And if Judy comes in while you’re here, I’m sorry in advance.”

Judy? Your stomach does an awkward flip at the idea of him inviting you here if he has a girlfriend, or a wife. You don’t think you’ve seen a wedding ring on him, but…

Oh, well. Nothing you can do, at this point. You’re here for the kid, anyway, aren’t you?

You go over to the table where Minnie has set up camp, propped in a booster seat to reach the tabletop. She has a coloring book and a pack of glitter crayons in front of her, and you pull up the second chair to join her. Minnie stares at you for second, her cute upturned eyes so much like her father’s, and then she opens up her coloring book, flipping the pages as carefully as she can.

When she finds what she wants, she sets the book down and rips the page out. It’s a picture of a teacup and saucer on a table, with a pitcher of flowers behind it.

“This is yours,” she says, with the utmost seriousness.

“Okay,” you say, matching her tone, “Can I use your crayons? I didn’t bring mine.”

You kind of expect a kid as serious and assertive as her to be careful about her possessions, but Minnie just upends the crayon box onto the table.

“Yep,” she says.

She grabs a lilac color and dives right into her own coloring page: a dressing table covered in cosmetics and trinkets. You select a red crayon from the pile and join her, filling in the delicate pattern on your teacup.

You can’t explain why it doesn’t feel like babysitting, but it doesn’t. It feels more like…coexisting. Like this preschooler really is just happy to have your company.

What a weird kid.

Hyunjin comes over after a moment with your coffee. The café is empty aside from you three, so he sits down at the table with you, placing the cup with your drink down beside the precarious pile of crayons.

“Daddy can’t color,” the kid tells you.

“Really?” you ask, looking up at Hyunjin wryly.

Hyunjin raises his hands as if in defeat, “My talents lie in performing arts, not studio arts. Unlike this renaissance child, who can do it all.”

It’s obvious that Hyunjin adores his daughter. You can see it in his eyes as he watches her scrub her crayons across the picture, in the way he talks about her. You’re not around kids a lot, but you can tell that this little girl has a lot of love in her life. That’s probably why she’s so bold; outgoing, kind, and well-adjusted kids are usually well-loved kids.

You smile to yourself as you keep coloring, switching the red for a grey. And after a while, you’re aware of Hyunjin’s watching gaze focused not on his daughter, but on you.

Embarrassed by the attention, you look up and meet his eye. He’s just watching you, with a lopsided smile that shows all of his teeth and crinkly smiling eyes that emphasize the little mole under his bottom eyelid on one side.

“What?” you ask.

He gives himself a little shake.

“Sorry,” he says.

It seems like all he does is apologize to you when he’s done nothing wrong at all.

“I was just thinking, it’s really sweet that you’re here,” he admits.

“Sweet?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. How many people do you know who would come across town just to hang out with a little kid?”

You take a sip of the coffee. It’s perfect. Maybe the best you’ve ever had. Is he even real?

“Well, she’s like the coolest person I’ve ever met,” you say, “Regardless of age.”

“Yeah, she is,” Hyunjin says fondly.

“I’m cool,” Minnie agrees.

The doors of the café open softly, and you and Hyunjin turn around simultaneously to see a young couple, maybe college students, seating themselves and talking softly. Hyunjin excuses himself to go help them, and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

What are you even doing here?

Did you agree to come on this very strange playdate because you were so taken by a strange child that you felt the need to keep a promise you made to her? Or, on some level, did you just want to see Hyunjin again? Neither answer is particularly good. Or sane.

“You and Daddy can be friends, too.”

Your head snaps up when you realize you’d being addressed, and you regard Minnie. “What?”

“You and Daddy can be friends. You’re my friend, but Daddy, too.”

You hum, as if you’re really puzzling it over, when in reality you’re about to collapse from the embarrassment of this child inadvertently setting you up with her dad. Or maybe advertently. You have no idea how smart she actually is.

“How does it look?” you ask instead, holding up your drawing.

Minnie puts down her crayon and scrutinizes your picture as if she’s a museum collections pro scouting for art.

“Do pink flowers,” she says eventually, and she returns to her own drawing with the same intensity.

“Good idea,” you say.

You pick out a rosy pink color and try to will all your nerves about Hyunjin away. He’s just a new friend. The father of you new littlest friend. You can’t make this weird just because he’s good-looking. Hyunjin himself has vanished into the back kitchen, tucked away to prepare something. You can hear a stove going, cutlery clattering.

The café door opens again as you’re idly listening to the sounds of the kitchen. This time, it’s a middle-aged woman with a long black ponytail and a practical, motherly outfit. She greets the young couple cheerfully, and then she sets her eyes on you.

“My Min!” the lady coos, and Minnie looks up from her drawing.

“Hi. I’m coloring.”

“I can see that,” the lady says, coming up closer to lean on the table next to your casually, “And who is this?”

“(Y/N),” Minnie answers.

“I see.”

The woman is smiling, but her eyes are regarding you coolly, as if she’s sizing you up. You just offer her a nervous smile, unsure who this is or why she knows the kid.

Hyunjin emerges from the kitchen then, timing perfect, a plate holding a large grilled sandwich in hand.

“Oh, hey, Judy,” he says, on his way past to give the couple their lunch.

Judy? This is the Judy that he mentioned earlier? Not to be ageist, you think, but she seems too old to be Hyunjin’s partner. But romantic relationship or not, you can understand why he apologized on her behalf; she’s already giving you incredibly intense vibes.

“(Y/N)’s picture goes on the wall with mine, okay, Judy?” Minnie says suddenly.

“Sounds like a plan,” Judy agrees, “Now, is someone going to tell me who this young lady is?”

Moving very quickly and pretending that he’s not, Hyunjin rejoins the three of you over in your corner, setting a comforting hand on Judy’s shoulder. You can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it as a means of subtly holding her back.

“Min made friends with her at the store the other day after one of her famous mad dashes,” Hyunjin says. “And we figured the polite thing to do after that would be to invite her for a cup of coffee.”

“I see,” Judy says.

Her face softens at Hyunjin’s words, even though she’s still looking you over quizzically, like she can’t decide how to feel about you being there.

“Well, welcome,” she says, finally, “I’m Judy. This is my café.”

She extends her hand to shake, and you take it. Her hand is slim and pretty, heavy with a few jeweled rings and slightly roughened on the fingertips from hard work.

“She takes care of us,” Minnie pipes up.

“I try to,” Judy agrees. “They need all the help they can get.”

“I resent that!” Hyunjin says.

“But really, I just use this pretty face to attract customers,” Judy continues, waving a hand at Hyunjin.

He squawks his outrage, and you can’t help the smile that creeps over your face.

“The teens see this face and they come right in. It’s like magic,” Judy says, as if she’s being purposefully oblivious to how much she’s embarrassing him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you say.

And you mean it, too. Hyunjin obviously has an unconventional support system going on, with this woman who he introduced by her first name and not by her relation to him. It leads you to believe they’re not blood-related or anything. It doesn’t really matter, though. She seems nice, if not a little protective.  

“Nice to meet you, too,” Judy says, with such heavy finality that you feel as though you’ve just cleared a hurdle.

And from the way Hyunjin’s whole body perks up at her words, maybe you have. Why do you get the feeling that this was the equivalent of a meeting-the-parents moment?

As quickly as the atmosphere had heightened, it settles back to the lazy calm it was before. Judy pats Minnie’s head fondly and disappears into the back of the café, not to reappear. Hyunjin returns to his work, and you take back up the task of neatly filling in the coloring page, careful not to upstage your tiny host and her not-quite-developed motor skills.

It’s a slow afternoon.

The young couple eats their lunch across the room, adding only a quiet hum of activity to your surroundings. Minnie tells you stories while you work, regaling you with the deep inner workings of preschooler life.

“Their names are Sage and Ginger!” she’s saying happily.

You haven’t been listening closely enough, clearly, because you’re stumped. “Whose names?”

“The babies!”

“What babies?”

“From Blue’s Clues & You,” she huffs.

Oh. You vaguely remember the original Blue’s Clues show, but you can’t say you know exactly what she’s talking about. Is she talking about…the sentient salt and pepper shakers? Do they have babies? Why do they have babies?!

“That’s cool,” you say, with level enthusiasm.

Minnie looks at you flatly, but accepts your words with a nod. “They’re cute. So little!”

It goes on like that, bits of kids’ programming trivia and input on your crayon color choices. The couple leaves, and you can see Hyunjin zeroing back in on you as he lets them out with a wave and a call to come back soon.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

You pick up your drawing, for him to see. You’ve been finished with it for a while now (it’s a children’s coloring book, so it’s not all that intricate) but you don’t want to appear unengaged, so you’ve been going over your lines and blurring out the crayon marks. His eyes crinkle up with joy at the sight of it.

“Done!” Minnie announces.

She brandishes her own drawing, too, and Hyunjin beams at the two of you with equal pride.

“Can I put these up?” he asks.

“Together,” says Minnie.

“You got it.”

He takes both rough-edged pages and whisks them away to the counter. Behind the register, on an expanse of wall, there’s a collection of doodles and coloring pages that you hadn’t noticed when you walked in. They must all be Minnie’s; the bold coloring strokes are all the same, her heavy hand immortalized in wax and marker and glitter pen.

Hyunjin tacks up the pictures side by side on the wall.

It’s the tiniest gesture in the world, really. You can’t even count how many scraps of paper, how many school notebooks and work memos that you’ve scribbled on over the course of your life. You’ve colored kids’ menus at restaurants, done detailed adult coloring books at mixers. Somehow, this one ragged coloring page tacked to the wall of a café seems like a turning point in your life.

You wonder when you got so sentimental. It’s silly, but it’s there; warm happiness in your chest.

When Minnie begins to wilt, saying in not so many words that she’s getting tired, you know that your playdate time is coming to an end. It’s only been an hour and a half, maybe two, but that’s an awful long time to keep such a young kid occupied on one activity. You’re proud of yourself, honestly.

“She’ll go down for a nap soon, before dinner,” Hyunjin tells you softly, “You can head out if you want. I don’t wanna monopolize your day.”

“I think I will,” you agree.

It’s been a nice time, but you’re not one to overstay your welcome.

You say goodbye to Minnie, who insists on giving you another crushing full-body hug, and you make it all the way to the door before you realize Hyunjin is following you.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Walking you out,” he replies.

“I’m just going to my subway stop.”

“Then let me walk you to it,” he says.

You struggle to hold back your smile at his easy grace. “Okay, sure.”

The two of you set out into the afternoon, side by side, for the short walk from this inner part of the neighborhood to the metro stop that will take you back home. The breeze tugs at your skirt and ruffles Hyunjin’s apron, and you can’t help but sneak sidelong peeks at him as you walk.

“I hope Judy didn’t scare you too much,” he says.

“She’s intense. But I can tell that it’s out of love,” you reply.

He laughs at that, and you continue your slow meander down the unlined streets.

“She’s like an adoptive mom to me,” Hyunjin tells you. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“Oh,” you say, curious but knowing that you shouldn’t ask.

The two of you walk a while longer in your quiet bubble, but eventually, Hyunjin sighs.

“I don’t talk to my parents,” he says, “It’s not that crazy. Just how it is.”

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want, I understand.”

“And now I’m oversharing. Sorry,” he winces.

You shake your head, “It’s not a bother, I just won’t pry.”

Hyunjin considers this, and nods. “It’s just me and Min, so Judy’s been a livesaver. Mom and auntie and grandma all in one.”

Just him and Min, which means no wife and no serious girlfriend. That makes you feel a bit better. You’d hate to get in the way of a serious relationship, even indirectly. Minnie is a nice kid, and you like her, but you’re not her nanny or her babysitter or anything. You’d hate to be that kind of person, shoving yourself into a family where you have no business being.

“But…I wanted to know…would you wanna hang out again?” Hyunjin asks.

You laugh gently. “For Min? I’d walk into traffic. Yes, I’ll hang out again.”

“Not with Min,” Hyunjin says, voice soft and hesitant. “With me.”

The word that falls out of your mouth before you can stop it is, “Why?”

Hyunjin snorts, and then breaks out laughing, harder than you’ve ever heard him laugh.

“Because I think you’re cool?” he says eventually. “You’re cute and you like my kid, which is more than I can say about ninety percent of the people I meet.”

This was not part of the plan. Not that you had a plan, but come on. You were here to hang out with a super weird toddler, to entertain a precocious little girl because it’s cute and fun, not to be asked out by her dad. Her gorgeous dad, who’s so out of your league that it makes your head spin.

You spare a thought to wonder if he’s playing a prank on you.

“Unless…” Hyunjin draws away from you (when did he get so close?), “Unless you’re already seeing someone? God, I didn’t even think – I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, you cut in quickly, “No, I’m not-”

“Am I being weird? I’m being weird,” he laughs, and he almost sounds…nervous?

“You’re not being weird,” you assure him, “You just surprised me. I didn’t think…” 

“Then you’ll go out with me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, surprising yourself, “Yeah. I will.”

Hyunjin’s smile is the fucking sun coming up. It warms you right down to your toes.  

“I’ll call you,” he promises, “I’ll call and we can make plans.”

“Okay,” you agree.

The dimly-glowing sign marking the subway entrance looms ahead, and Hyunjin falls back, as you approach the down escalator.

“I’ll call you!” he says, again.

You wave as you go down the escalator, and once he’s out of sight, you practically melt. You have no idea why life is throwing you this curveball, but you’re not complaining.

---------------

True to form, it’s Minnie who calls you some days later. Not Hyunjin, the adult who presumably has control over the phone and has to dial the call. No, it’s the toddler whose voice filters over the line, the toddler who is undeniably and ultimately in control of her father’s whole world.

“Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Are you supposed to be making calls?” you tease.

“It’s okay, I have a mission,” she tells you.

“A secret mission?”

“Maybe…” Minnie’s voice pulls away from the phone, and you can hear her shout, “Daddy! Is it a secret mission?!”

Hyunjin’s voice calls something in reply, and then Minnie returns.

“Yeah, a secret mission,” she says.

“What’s your mission?”

“We gotta know, do you like Japan food or Italy food better?”

“Hmmm,” you think out loud, “I think I just like food.”

“Me too,” Minnie agrees, “I just like food.”

There’s another shout from Hyunjin that you can’t make out.

“Daddy says it’s gonna be a s’prise, then,” Minnie reports.

“Surprises are fun,” you say.

“It’s okay?” she asks.

“It’s okay,” you confirm.

“Okay! I gotta go. Talk to you later!”

Minnie hangs up, and you burst out laughing so hard that tears pool at the corners of your eyes. She manages to make it sound like she has a high-powered meeting that you’re keeping her from. How does she hide all of that thirty-five-year-old boss energy in her cute little self?

But more important than the absurd circumstance of the call is the outcome. You’re going on a real date. With Hyunjin. You try to pretend that a whole swarm of butterflies haven’t hatched in your gut.

You have a date with Hyunjin.

---------------

The date goes well.

It goes incredibly well, in fact. If you thought Hyunjin was pretty and charming when he was in more domestic setting, with his kid and at his job, that was nothing compared to fully-focused-grownup Hyunjin on a date.

He dresses well, he’s funny and he’s gentle, he nearly cries because the dish you order to share is too spicy for him. He’s got all the puppylike charm of the young man that he is, and this underlying tired seriousness of the doting single father that he is.

You argue with him until he lets you split the bill for the meal, and he gives you a gentle kiss on the lips when he leaves you at your subway stop. It’s like a fairytale.

So you go out again, and again, and again, still. Sometimes it’s barbeque in your neighborhood, at an outdoor restaurant with great side dishes handmade by the older couple who own the place. Sometimes it’s just coffee and a long chat at a 24-hour café. You haven’t been to his home, yet, and he hasn’t been to yours, but it’s refreshing to just take things slowly with him, when the rest of life moves so fast.

Underneath the fun of being with Hyunjin, though, is the doubt.

Everything you see makes you more and more certain that he’s not a real person. He’s a dating sim come to life. He’s so good-looking that teenage girls stop to whisper and giggle about him, and passing aunties give him bold compliments. Dogs like him, service staff like him, little kids like him. And you understand it; you like him tremendously.

You’re not entirely sure why he likes you, though. Compared to him, you’re kind of reserved, kind of plain. It’s not that you don’t like yourself, but you’re a cottage to Hyunjin’s skyscraper, a woodwick candle to his disco ball. Just different realms entirely.

It doesn’t matter, you suppose, because regardless of his motivation or your understanding, you’re spending more and more time with Hyunjin, and Minnie.

You learn that it’s Hyunjin who does her hair every day, creating looks with pins and braids and tiny ponytails. He grew out his own hair to the length it is now to practice on, he tells you one day. You learn that Minnie only likes crunchy vegetables, raw carrots and the stems of lettuce, and that she can inexplicably eat much spicier food that her father can.

You’re comfortable being part of the mundane. But Hyunjin seems to have different aspirations for the two of you, in your casual and fluid relationship, still without titles or formalities.

“I want to take you somewhere nice.”

You glance up from your laptop, blinking to get the fuzziness out of your vision at you look at Hyunjin where he leans over the prep counter. It’s a weekend, but you have a pile of leftover work to get through before Monday, so you’ve set up camp at the café for the afternoon. Hyunjin is on shift, and he’s been slinging you snacks and coffees between customers. It’s been just the two of you, work obligations notwithstanding, and it’s been…domestic.

“This isn’t nice enough?” you quip.

“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes, “Like a real date.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying the first half dozen dates weren’t real?”

Hyunjin sticks out his thick lower lip in a pout. “What happened to the shy awkward person I met at the store? Bring her back, please, this (Y/N) is mean to me!”

You laugh. “Where did you want to go?”

“There’s this place I haven’t been to in years. It’s really nice, my aunt used to take us back when family outings were more my thing,” he says.

“Sounds okay,” you decide.

“You’d have to dress up,” he warns, “Like, for real. I’ll have to dig out a suit.”

“That’s fine.”

You turn your attention back to your laptop, trying to hide your flustered face at the idea of Hyunjin cleaning up extra nice for you, Hyunjin in a fitted suit and shined shoes. He might notice it anyway, though, if the smile that lights up his face as he turns back to the kitchen is any hint.

---------------

It’s decided that Hyunjin will pick you up from work and drive the two of you to your first fancy date. So that morning, you hitched a ride with a coworker so as not to strand your car at the office overnight, carrying your change of clothes in a bag. The downside of that was having to explain to your coworker what necessitated the change, and your team quickly found out that you have a date. The teasing hasn’t stopped all day, good-natured ribbing all during your shift, about stoic, shy supervisor (Y/N) going on a hot date with a mystery man.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your office’s nice bathroom, the one reserved for visitors who can’t pee with the staff. The one with potpourri on the counters and immaculate tile floors. You’ve gone for a menswear look yourself, wide-legged slacks and a silky blouse, and heels. Hyunjin’s already seen you in a nice dress, you figure, and besides, clinging to the businesswear that you already don at work gives you just a bit more nerve.

Somehow, a date at a nice restaurant that holds some sentimental value for him is more serious than anything you’ve ever done, more intimate than splitting cakes at the café and watching Minnie force the other kids to take turns on the slide at the playground.

You adjust your French tuck just a bit, make sure that your necklace hangs neatly, and deem yourself as good as you’re gonna get. You walk out of the bathroom, bag now holding your work clothes tucked under your arm, only to see a whole group of your production team boys waiting for you.

The company where you work is a decently large tech manufacturing plant, and as a production manager, you oversee a team of techs and assembly workers who tend to be on the younger side, and much more often are young men close to your age. They’re all nice boys who you’re quite close to, but they’ve already been on your case all day. Several of them are right here in the hall, now, ready to make fun of you the way that annoying little brothers are meant to do.

“Jeez, (Y/N), out for blood,” says Taehyun, his silica filter mask hanging off one ear.

“Don’t be gross,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, you’re really going all out for this date, huh?” adds Jeongin.

“Quit it before I vom and then report you all to HR,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” says Taehyun, “I’ve worked for you for like two years and I’ve never seen you have fun on purpose before.”

“That can’t be true,” you argue, walking toward the front of the building with your little line of assembly-boy ducklings following behind.

“On your birthday, you asked us to get you a firm handshake and a new set of pages for your planner,” Jeongin deadpans.

“You’re Ron Swanson with tits,” Jaemin says.

“Charming,” you glance at him, and he shrugs.

“It’s true.”

Car headlights shine in the picture windows that span the front of your building, and you can make out a small red car sitting in the visitor’s parking right by the door.

“Please don’t embarrass me,” you implore the boys, as you haul open the heavy glass door to let yourself out.

“We would never do that,” Jeongin says, defensive.

“Maybe we should talk to your date, though,” Jaemin suggests, “Rough him up a little.”

“Yeah, please don’t ever do that,” you say, “I’m leaving now.”

The driver’s side window is rolled down, and you can see Hyunjin leaning out, waving to you. You walk around to the passenger’s side of the car as fast as you can, giving your stupid underlings as little time as possible to ruin things.

You slide into the seat and slam the door behind you right as you hear one of the boys yell, “GET HER HOME SAFE. BY TEN.”

“Oh my God, go, drive away,” you groan.

“Who are they?” Hyunjin asks, amused, as he backs out of the parking spot.

“They work for me,” you say. “They wanna intimidate you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“They must really like you,” he says.

“No, they just really like being annoying.”

Hyunjin laughs, glancing at you as he maneuvers onto the main road.

“You look really great,” he says, sounding a little bit shy.

“Thanks.”

“The restaurant isn’t far,” Hyunjin says, “But I wanted to look cool and drive you.”

“I already think you’re cool,” you tease.

“Well if you’d told me that before, we could have called a cab,” he says.

“Nah, I wanted to see your car,” you say, turning around in your seat to get a full view of the interior, “Big pink carseat and all.”

“Min’s constantly telling me to just get a pink car to match,” Hyunjin says, “I don’t know if I could pull that off, though.”

“With your good looks and princess hair? I think you could.”

“Good to know. Next car, pink,” he says.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying about the restaurant being close by, because the whole drive is less than fifteen minutes. You’ve barely relaxed when he pulls up to the street parking outside a modest building with a pretty marquee and rough brick siding.

“This is it?” you ask, peeking out at the building.

“Yep.”

You scrutinize the restaurant as two of you get out of the car, and you can tell instantly that it’s an upscale place. Everything from the valet in front to the fabric of the curtains reeks of steaks that cost a paycheck and truffles in every possible dish. You’re kind of excited for it.

The maître-d greets you warmly, and brings you to a table against the window, with a view into a small back garden full of lanterns and lit trellises. The table itself is a delicate wooden thing, with full-course silverware and origami napkins. Candles dance on the tabletop, a single red rose in a vase brightening the whites and silvers of it all.

Hyunjin must know a thing or two about romance, because you’re properly wowed. It’s so stereotypically wonderful, it makes for a great sixth-or-seventh date. You’ve known him long enough that you know he’s not trying to blindly impress you, but just to treat you.

You wonder what kind of family he has, that they would bring him to a place like this as a kid or a teenager.

When the waitress, a pretty young woman in server’s blacks, comes over, the two of you order from the set menu and argue only a little about what dishes to taste and what wine to have.

“They’re barely Brussels sprouts,” you’re saying, “They’re covered in oil and bacon and shit.”

“They’re green vegetables,” he counters.

“They’re gourmet, don’t be a baby.”

Starters come and quickly disappear.

The main course comes, and by this point, you’re a glass or so of wine deep, and Hyunjin is only looking more and more handsome, as your stomach starts to be comfortably filled and the drinks warm you up from the inside.

Hyunjin’s gazing at you between bites of his dinner, expression so soft that you wonder if he’s gonna lean right across the table to kiss you. It’s tender, it’s lovely, and it’s unlike any other date you’ve ever had.

But a woman’s shrill, furious voice shatters the entire atmosphere with a single sharpened word.

“Hyunjin?!”

It’s almost comical, the way Hyunjin freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and startled. It’s only almost comical, because this emotion seems to be very real fear on his part. He keeps his eyes on his plate, but you look toward the sound.

There’s a woman approaching your table, thin and elegant and beautiful. She’s got only the faintest age lines on her perfectly made-up face, and her clothes are designer, a plum-colored dress that brushes her knees and a handbag worth more than your whole closet. She doesn’t even spare you a glance, zeroing in on Hyunjin as she comes to stand right beside the table, puffed up in self-righteous anger like a provoked bird.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” she barks.

Hyunjin turns his head so slowly that you wonder if he’s even moving at all, until finally he’s looking at her.

“Of all the places – what on EARTH are you doing?!” she asks him, tone stiff and angry.

It’s the kind of tone that you can imagine her using to yell at waitstaff, or berate the hotel bellhop.  She’s that kind of wealthy, you can just tell. You’ve been dodging people like this your whole adult life, working your way up in the tech field, littered with its new and old money. You glance at Hyunjin, but the urgency in his face tells you to hold your tongue.

“I’m eating,” he says finally.

“Your aunt told me you were still in the city,” she says, “I can’t IMAGINE what you’ve been up to that you haven’t had time to even call, the nerve-”

“Mother,” Hyunjin says evenly, “You’re interrupting a nice time.

Mother. This is Hyunjin’s mother?

As if she’s just noticed that you’re there, she rounds on you. “And who is this?”

The disgust in her voice makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. It’s been a long while since someone has been so openly dismissive of you. Not since you were a student, you think, but God does it hurt.

“This is my date,” Hyunjin answers.

His words are clipped, like he really doesn’t want to say more.

“Well, obviously,” his mother sniffs, condescending, “What is her NAME?”

“You don’t get to know that,” Hyunjin says.

You know that Hyunjin is distant with his parents. He’s mentioned that they don’t talk anymore, and that they don’t really know his daughter at all. But it speaks volumes that he doesn’t even want his mother to know your name.

“And where did you meet this shining example of gilt wood pretending to be gold?” she asks, “The community center? The food bank?”

“There’s no need to be mean,” Hyunjin says, much more calmly than you would be able to, “We’re trying to have dinner. You should leave.”

“I’ve finished my meal. I’m on my way out,” his mother says haughtily, “But I saw you and I needed to come say something.

“No, don’t let us keep you,” Hyunjin says, gesturing toward the exit with his still-full fork.

“Hyunjin, when are you going to give up this ridiculous act and come back to make things right?” she asks, and though the tone is sincere, there’s no warmth behind it.

“Never,” he replies, “Things are just the way I want them.”

This woman, in her all finery and dignified air, stamps her foot on the ground like a child having a tantrum.

“You’re making a mockery of our family, you know that, yes?” she asks.

“You’re the one yelling at me and embarrassing yourself in a restaurant full of people,” Hyunjin points out.

“You are an aggravating and ungrateful child,” his mother hisses.

“Maybe,” Hyunjin agrees, “But I’m happy.”

Perhaps sensing that she’s starting to make a scene, his mother glances around at the other patrons, who are trying to hide the way they’re listening in with varying levels of success. Your waitress is lingering by the edge of the service floor, eyes glued on the scene.

“You’ll come to your senses,” she promises darkly. “And you’ll come begging for my help. We’ll see if I take pity on you then.”

And with that, she turns around and stalks toward the exit, not even pausing as she barks at the valet to bring her ride around. You watch until she’s outside and out of sight, and then you focus on Hyunjin.

His hands are shaking so badly that his fork clatters against his plate. You reach out and cover his hand with yours, easing the fork out of his grip and laying it down. You feel horrible, and kind of sick, but you know that between the two of you, Hyunjin is worse, so you have to push that discomfort down, just for a while.

“Let’s finish our dinner, okay?” you say, “And then we can talk about this.”

---------------

The rest of the date isn’t agonizing, but it is uncomfortable. You chat, and joke, albeit without the same easy grace as before. Seeing his mother, and having her speak to both of you that way has really seemed to rattle Hyunjin more than a confrontation usually would.

You settle the tab, splitting it like you always do, and then you find yourselves on a bench outside the restaurant, set away from the main road. It’s dark, and it’s chilly, but it’s comfortable with the gentle atmospheric music from the restaurant marquee and the sounds of traffic.

“Min’s mom wasn’t ready for a baby.”

You glance at Hyunjin at the sound of his voice. He’s fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer, still looking distinctly unsettled.

“Neither of us were,” he amends.

“Was she a hookup?” you ask.

“A girlfriend,” he says, “But not…she was just a girl from a good family. Someone my parents thought would be a good match, so we dated for a long time.”

“A good match,” you repeat, “A good match for you?”

“A good match for the family,” he says bitterly.

“What does that matter?”

“Oh, it matters. Way more than what I want,” he says.

“They’re really rich, aren’t they?” you ask, thinking about his mother’s clothes, and her attitude, and pretty much everything about her, “Your parents, I mean.”

“Disgustingly rich.”

“Oh.”

“She’s a really nice girl, a good person. But she really didn’t want to be with me forever, and she certainly didn’t want a kid,” Hyunjin says.

“So what happened?” you ask.

“She broke things off when she got pregnant, which made both of our families pissed beyond belief. The proper thing to do would have been to get married, right? But instead she ended the relationship, and moved home,” Hyunjin says, “They took care of Min for like a year and a half, her parents and a nanny.”

“Not the mom?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “She just didn’t want a kid. Which is okay, more than okay. Our parents were the ones who wanted to keep the pregnancy, not her. I just wanted everyone to stop fighting.”

You just nod. Hyunjin is keeping this story so purposefully vague, not dropping names or placing blame or really showing any anger. You wonder how much time he’s spent thinking about this story, or telling it in different ways. He seems almost desensitized to it all.

“When Min was almost two, her mom asked if I would take on full custody so she could sign away her parental rights and be out of the picture for good. And I figured,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, “I figured, better to have one parent that loves you the most than two while one is half-assing it.”

“No, I can see that,” you say.

“Minnie lived with me at my parents’ house until they realized that my ex was never coming back. They always figured we’d get back together.”

“Why?!” you ask, incredulous.

Hyunjin looks at you. “Because that would be the dutiful thing to do. Get married, stay together for the kid, avoid any embarrassing attention on the families.”

“Even if that meant you were both miserable forever?”

Hyunjin turns his gaze back at the ground, sighing. “My parents said they wouldn’t support me if I couldn’t even do that one thing right and convince my ex to do right by the families and marry me. But I wasn’t gonna force her. She’s a good person. just in over her head, and scared. And I can’t blame her for that. I can’t forgive her. But I understand.”

“So, what, they kicked you out?”

“Kicked me out, cut me off,” Hyunjin nods. “I used to be set for life, with their money to back me up. I could have fucked around forever, lived comfy. They took it all away because I wouldn’t marry a girl who didn’t love me and just wanted to live her own life.”

“You’re a good person,” you say.

“It was an easy choice,” he quips, some of his usual humor returning now that he’s gotten the stress of his story out of his mind, “Either my parents, who only love me conditionally, or my daughter, who loves the biggest and best out of anyone ever.”

You laugh, but you can’t shake the new strange feeling that has settled over you, now that you know all of this about him. Knowing that Hyunjin is the rejected son of a wealthy family, a silver-spoon kid with a heart of gold. It only validates some of those nagging feelings that in some unavoidable way, Hyunjin is far, far too good for you.

He’s given up a life of luxury and security for his daughter, and his freedom. You’re not about to make him compromise on anything else, ever. At all.

“Min doesn’t even miss any of them,” Hyunjin says thoughtfully, “Doesn’t even ask.”

“That’s good, I guess,” you say.

He shrugs. “Means that she’s not too fucked up from bouncing around like that as a baby, which is a fuckin’ blessing.”

“She’s safe and happy with you now, though,” you say.

Hyunjin grins at you. “But you know who’s been a great parent influence on her?”

“Who?”

“You.”

You laugh. “I’m no parent, trust me.”

“I dunno, you’re pretty great with her,” he says airily, “I don’t trust my kid with just anyone.”

“You gotta stop being so nice to me,” you say. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”

“Ideas like what? Afraid I’ll wanna take you out on a date? Introduce you to my kid? Oh wait-”

“Shut up!” you whine, nudging him. “I just…can’t believe you like me, sometimes. Like, that you really like me, like this.”

“Of course, I like you,” Hyunjin says, dumbfounded, “We’ve been going out for weeks.”

“Yeah, and that only started because Min told you that she wanted to be friends with me.”

“Did you really think that I got your number that day because I wanted you to be friends with my three-year-old?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yes!” you answer, totally honest, “Yes, I did. I think that you would do anything in the world for that kid, even something stupid like inviting me out.”

You stand up, suddenly needing some space, some air that isn’t warm from Hyunjin’s presence by your side or scented with his soft cologne. He just watches as you pace a few short steps away from the bench.

“It was maybe twenty percent because she was being so cute with you,” he says desperately, “But the other eighty percent was for me.”

You can’t believe that. Sure, part of you hoped for it, because it’s truly so insane to just let your preschooler make friends with random women in public. It makes sense for him to have an ulterior motive. You’d hoped that it was really him who was interested, even if he just intended to hook up with you and then cut it off.

It’s beyond obvious to you that you’ve fallen hard for Hyunjin, even in just this short time. The idea of him feeling anything like that for you is much harder to fathom.

“I know you care about me, at least a little,” Hyunjin says, standing up to join you, “At least, I hope you do. Something, some chance that you like me as more than a friend, or a casual date…”

“I do,” you say, voice strangled and tiny, “But you…you’re-”

“I’m what? I’m a father already? I have too much baggage for you?”

Your heart breaks a little bit more as he says that, as you imagine other people in the past dumping him with those exact words. The conviction in his voice is all that you need to picture it; a different person, a different night, the same outcome.

“No!” you insist.

“Then what?”

You bite the bullet, and you say it. “Because you’re beautiful, Hyunjin. You’re perfect. You have a wonderful kid and a nice life that you’ve built for her and yourself after all of that shit you went through. You…you’re too good for me.”

Hyunjin recoils like he’s been slapped. “How can you think that?”

“I just look at your life, and I can’t possibly picture you moving things around just to fit me in,” you say.

“How can you think that there’s not already space for you?! Can’t you see that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time?” he asks.

“Because I’m…” you struggle, “I’m boring, Hyunjin, I don’t know! I’m not worth changing for.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’re letting my mother get to you, which is just what she wants.”

“Then I’m just not right for you,” you say, trying to ignore his comment about his mother and how absolutely right it is. “You have this cute little picturesque life, and I have my normal job and my hobbies and my family and friends and I would just…be in the way.”

“You’re not in the way now,” Hyunjin says.

“We’re not a serious couple now!”

“Why can’t you just let me like you?!”

He’s practically yelling now, keeping his distance and nearly folding in on himself as he looks at you with eyes that are far too shiny. It’s not the yelling that gets to you, but what he’s saying.

“Because it’s scary!” you yell back. “I don’t want to lose you, or your kid, but I know that-”

“I can show you,” he pleads.

He draws in a little closer, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you. Against your stubborn brain’s protests, you reach out to thread your fingers with his.

You don’t want to lose him.

But as disgusting and cliché and self-deprecating as it is, you just can’t fathom someone like him wanting to be with someone like you.

Hyunjin leans more fully into your gentle grasp, pulls you right up close to him so that the two of you are toe to toe, there on the street outside the restaurant, as cars pass by and streetlights cast their dim yellow light over it all. He’s looking right into your eyes, expression firm and warm and so, so Hyunjin. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you scan his face for nervousness or insincerity, and find none.

He’s looking at you the way he looks at Minnie when she falls asleep on the couch watching Frozen 2 for the millionth time. The way he looks at Judy when her back is turned in the café.

“I’ll show you that I mean it,” he says again, “I’ll be here for you. I’ll support you the way that you’ve supported us. I’ll love-”

He can’t get to the end of that sentence, because you wrench your free arm around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. He startles, lets go of your hand, and you freeze, thinking you’ve miscalculated the situation and gone too far. But he recovers quickly, wrapping both arms around your waist. He adjusts you so that you’re flush against him, and kisses back, harder.

His plush lips are wine-sour and soft, and he molds them against yours like he’s starving for it.

“My place,” he says, pulling back just the slightest bit so he can speak, “My place.”

“But-”

“Min is at Judy’s for the night,” he says, “Please.”

You want to. You want to so badly that your head is spinning, that your heart is beating out a rhythm against your ribcage. He’s here in front of you, wrapped up in you, so handsome and so unattainable…

Well. You think that Hyunjin is making a mistake. But if he’s gonna make it, you’re gonna enjoy every minute of it.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Okay, or yes?” Hyunjin says, “I need a real yes.”

You hesitate. You decide. You say it.

“Yes.”

Just like that, he’s pulling you down the road to his car and opening the passenger’s side door for you. His place is across the city from here, so you settle in for what’s sure to be the most impatient car ride of your life. Anticipation drags out the minutes, as the energy between you grows so tense that you’re sure one of you is going to snap and start things up before you even get there.

But you’re spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of his building before you know it, Hyunjin’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you.

You’ve been to his place before, to meet him outside for dates, but you’ve never gone inside before. It’s a regular villa building, boxy and painted a demure white, and he leads you up the metal stairs to the third floor.

“I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” Hyunjin says uncertainly, as he unlocks the door.

“I know,” you say, “I wouldn’t have come up if I didn’t want…well…”

Hyunjin grins his understanding, and you follow him into the apartment, taking his lead as he kicks off his shoes. You peek around when he flips on the lights.

His home looks about the way you’d expect: modest-sized and full of plain, sturdy furniture that looks like it could take a few hits. The décor is understated, intending to be an atmosphere of minimalist modernism, except that a girly, demanding preschooler definitely lives here. Drawings cover the fridge, the corkboard on the wall, the dining table with its one normal chair and one pink booster seat. Toys, hair accessories, and art supplies sit on shelves, in baskets, on end tables.

“It’s cute,” you say.

“Hm?”

Hyunjin pops his head out of the kitchen, now sans blazer, where he’s switching on more lights. He obviously has a just-gotten-home routine, and he’s not about to abandon it just because you’re here.

“This place. It’s cute,” you repeat. “It suits you.”

“It’s small,” he says with a shrug, tossing his blazer onto the back of the couch, “But we each have a bedroom and that’s really all that I can ask for. You ever shared a bedroom with a toddler? Not cool.”

“I’d like to see your room,” you tease, cringing at yourself instantly for making the dumbest of the dumb jokes.

But Hyunjin’s expression is just dangerously joyful, like he’s really taking it to heart.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” he says.

“Sounds like you’re plotting.”

“I did tell you that I would prove it to you,” he says, drawing in close to you again, “How much I care about you.”

“The only way you know how to do that is with sex?” you ask playfully, “That’s sad. Maybe expand your vocabulary, first.”

He looks down at you, amused and just slightly frustrated. “Why can’t you make this easy for me?”

“Nothing with me is easy,” you say, “You should get used to that.”

“I dunno. You’re kind of easy to love.”

There he goes again, with that word. You can feel your cheeks burning, unable to process such casual affection from someone you like so much.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“As much as you want,” he promises.

You slot yourself comfortably into his arms and lean up to kiss him. He’s got such ridiculous plush lips, soft and sliding against yours, and he holds you like you’re something precious. It’s an overwhelming amount of attention, but you let yourself bask in it.

“C’mon,” he says, “I’ll give you that tour.”

He winks, and then he releases you, walking across the small living space toward the doors on the far wall. Following him is second nature, at this point, and you pad after him.

“This is Min’s room,” he tells you.

He cracks the door on the right, so that you can see a peek of the pink explosion on the other side.

“She picked all her own décor,” he says.

“I’m starting to think that pink is just your favorite color, and you’re using the kid as an excuse,” you say.

“You’ll never get me to admit it,” he grins.

He opens the door on the left, and this room is soft woods and earth tones. Definitely an adult’s room, almost stark in its lack of personal effects. It’s dark except for city lights filtering between the open curtains, casting the room into a seductive kind of shadow. You follow him into the room, grinning to yourself.

“Bed looks comfy,” you say.

Hyunjin sits down on the edge of the bed, strong thighs in dress pants drawing your eye shamefully quickly, and fixes you with a look.

“Come find out,” he offers.

You can’t keep being so self-conscious about this. It’s Hyunjin, it’s only Hyunjin, your friend. One of your dearest friends. With his supermodel face, and his long blonde hair falling out of its ponytail in wisps around his cheekbones, and the outline of his cock against his thigh-

Fuck.

Something in you snaps. You climb into his lap, settling yours knees on either side of his hips, winding your arms around his neck to pull his mouth back against yours. He laughs into the kiss, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you down harder into him.

“See?” he says, voice low, “It’s not so hard to open up to me, is it?”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” you mutter.

“You’re so mean to yourself,” Hyunjin chides.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can be mean to you instead.”

He just laughs again, grinding his hips up into you briefly. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, distinct even through the layers of clothes that separate the two of you.

“Can this come off?” he asks, plucking at the collar of your nice silky blouse.

“Yeah.”

His answering smile is dark and satisfied, conniving in a way that makes your pulse jump. Hyunjin is so calm and sweet most of the time, cheerful in a way that suggests naivety. You almost worry about him, sometimes, worry that to other he’ll come across as just pretty and dim. Why are you getting the feeling that you’ve stumbled across a very different part of him, tonight?

“D’you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asks, against your collarbone, as he unbuttons your blouse down your chest, down your stomach.

“How long?”

“Too long. Way too long.

He’s pushing your shirt off your shoulders before you know it, reaching around to unhook your bra. His hands are firm and certain, the stumbling hesitation that he’d shown while asking you out nowhere to be found. Here, apparently, he’s absolutely comfortable.

Your shirt and bra are discarded carelessly, and you’re surprised that you feel no shyness at all when Hyunjin cups your breasts in his hands and thumbs over your nipples.

“Knew you’d be pretty,” he says.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

He gives you another one of those feline grins.

“Watch it,” he warns.

Hyunjin hooks one arm around your back and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top, all but dragging you up to the middle of the bed. You’re sprawled on your back under him now, bouncing gently on the mattress with the force that he’d used to move you.

“You’re even prettier like this,” he smirks, “I like the slacks, by the way, very professional. I didn’t tell you that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you reply, breathing heavy, unsure how to handle this new Hyunjin and his blinding confidence.

“Can those come off, too?”

“What about your clothes?” you whine.

“We’ll get to that,” he promises.

He only needs one hand to unbutton, unzip, and tug your slacks down to your knees in one fluid motion, and he move aside so you can kick them off all the way.

“These are so you,” Hyunjin says.

You’re confused, until you look down yourself to see the panties you’d put on that morning: light blue with a pattern of tiny white running llamas. They’re not all that sexy, but they’re comfy, and it’s not like you’d explicitly planned on anyone seeing them, date or no date.

“I wasn’t expecting to get fucked tonight,” you say bluntly, “Give me a break.”

“Should have at least hoped for it,” he grins.

“I try to keep my expectations realistic.”

“You need to give yourself more credit,” Hyunjin says.

To punctuate it, he leans down over you fully, caging you in, and kisses you breathless again. He trails his mouth and hands down your front lazily, scraping his teeth against your hipbone where it peeks from the waistband of your underwear. He lets one long finger trace over your panties, across your covered pussy, and you can’t help how you twitch.

“Bet you’re fuckin’ delicious, too. Am I gonna get to taste?” he asks.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan.

The mouth on him…you’ve never had someone talk to you like this before, so tender and affectionate but also so obscene. It sends arousal pealing through you, the idea that he can be so into this, into you.

“Use your words,” he says, “Come on, can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you say, “God, Hyunjin…”

“Oh, I like how my name sounds, like that, listen to you,” he purrs.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties off smoothly. Those are abandoned over the edge of the bed, too, and Hyunjin has his face between your legs seemingly as fast as he can.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says, warm breath fanning over your inner thighs.

“I will,” you say, “Don’t worry.”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, and he licks into you indulgently.

He’s got one hand bracing himself against your leg, one hand holding your folds open for him so he can dip his tongue into your opening, drag it slow across your clit.

“Fuck,” he says, and you swear you can feel the word against you, “Can’t wait to feel this sweet pussy around my dick.”

You moan. You can’t help it, can’t help the way you’re leaking your arousal against his tongue, the way his words and his gorgeous mouth are working you over. He pulls away from your core much too quickly, and he smiles when you whine.

“Just a taste, I said,” he placates.

He sits back on his heels between your legs to strip off his own clothes, but you haul yourself up to meet him.

“Let me do it,” you say.

“Be my guest.”

So it’s your turn to undo his buttons and give yourself an unencumbered look at his body for the first time. He’s slim, working muscle like a dancer, gorgeous skin under your hands. You kind of want to take your time, leave marks all over him and get to know every inch. But it does seem like he has an agenda tonight, as he impatiently shrugs off his shirt and undoes his own belt.

He rids himself of his pants and underwear quickly, and you really should have expected him to have a cock like THAT. He’s tall, and pretty, and of course, this part of him matches perfectly, long and thick and beautifully flushed.

“I’m clean,” you find yourself saying, “And on birth control, so if you want…we can…”

Hyunjin grins at you. “You just want me to fuck you raw.”

“I do,” you agree, “Fuck, I do.”

“I’m clean, too,” he tells you.

He nudges your legs apart to make room for him as he crawls back up your body, giving you a gentle playful shove so that you lay flat on your back for him again.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up, just like this?”

He’s looming over you, propping himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head. You can feel the tip of his cock nudging between your folds.

“That’s what I want,” you agree desperately. “Please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging him like this. Are you that easy to break?

But you can’t bring yourself to care how ridiculous you sound, because Hyunjin rocks his hips forward to dip the head of his cock into you, and you keen.

“What do you want?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.

“You know exactly what!”

“I can’t give you anything unless you tell me,” he says.

“I want,” you struggle, “I want you to fill me up. Please.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praises gently.

He rewards you with another thrust, a little deeper, sending a fantastic thrill through your body but still nowhere near enough. He works himself into you slowly, just a bit at a time, pulling completely out in between just to be able to sink all the way back in.

After what seems like an eternity, he slides in completely, hips flush against yours. You squirm, needing him to do SOMETHING, after taking his sweet time to get to this point, but Hyunjin seems content to just sit like this for a moment.

“I was right,” he tells you, “Feels fuckin’ heavenly.”

“Move, please,” you beg.

“Be patient. Maybe I just want you to cockwarm me for the rest of the night,” he teases.

“I would go home,” you say.

He laughs. “Okay, okay, you got me, that’s not what I want.”

So slowly that you know he’s doing it on purpose to torture you, Hyunjin draws back and fucks into you, hard and deep. It coaxes a punched-out moan from your throat, already so strung out though you’ve just begun.

He’s stronger than you would have imagined, driving into you with those narrow dancer’s hips and leaning down to press kisses to your cheeks, your mouth, the sides of your throat. His hands roam like he wants to be touching all of you at once: kneading into your breast, smoothing back your hair, bending your legs up farther so he can fuck you deeper, better.

“Look how well you take me,” he says.

You do look. You crane your neck up to look down the narrow space between you, as Hyunjin props up his body above you, and you can just barely see his thick cock working into you, disappearing with an obscene squelch that leaves no question about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

“So messy,” he teases.

“’m not messy,” you mumble, feeling sex-stupid but indignant.

“No?” he grins, “Not dripping wet for me?”

You want to argue, but he’s right; you can feel exactly how wet you are for him. You can’t remember the last time someone had you so desperate, so ready and eager to take what you’re given. Hyunjin falls forward to let your bodies press together, covering you and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Sweet girl,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice soft and fond and dangerous, “So good for me. So good with my kid. We could give her a sibling, you know.”

It sounds like something that just slipped out, the way that it’s so honest and the way that Hyunjin nearly gasps at himself. But your mind has gone one hundred percent completely blank. You let out a moan that’s mostly silent, as you let the implication of that wash over you.

You didn’t think you had a thing for, well…this.

But Hyunjin, looking at you like this, talking like this, honest and filthy, right in your ear. You know that it’s just dirty talk, that he doesn’t mean it, not right this instant. You both know that you’re on birth control. But the game of it, the idea of it…

“Yes,” you gasp, “Oh my God-”

“Oh, you REALLY like that,” he purrs, “I can feel you squeezing around me.”

“Hyunjin!” you moan.

“Is that what you want, baby? You just wanna be filled up with my cum, is that it?”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and you doubly can’t believe how much you fucking love them, how you’re nodding and clawing your fingernails down his back at the picture he’s painting for you.

“Please,” you gasp, “I want – I want-”

Hyunjin draws up so that he can look into your eyes. “Baby wants me to give her a baby. Hm.”

Never in your life have you been brought right to the point of cumming just from someone’s words, but that’s exactly what’s happening. You can feel that perfect fuzzy electricity in your toes, building up. If you cum untouched, just from this, you’re gonna have some real soul-searching to do.

He seems to be at a similar place, fucking into you at a breakneck pace, still murmuring at you mindlessly.

“Want to fill up this sweet pussy, put a baby in you…Jesus fucking Christ, so good,” Hyunjin moans.

“Inside,” you agree, “Please – I need you, I just-”

As if he couldn’t be more perfect, Hyunjin slips his hand between you, presumably to bring you over the peak with him. The instant his finger presses against your clit, starts to rub a messy circle in the wetness spreading across your folds and your inner thighs, you cum.

You feel like screaming, but your voice is strangled, constricted with arousal, “Oh-”

“Fuck!” Hyunjin moans, like he’s agreeing with you.

One, two, three, four deep strokes, and Hyunjin bottoms out, pressing into you as he cums. Your hips buck into him on their own accord as he paints your walls with his cum, and you can’t help the newly-awakened corner of your mind that thinks about what could happen, if you weren’t on your birth control, if you did this again…

Goddamn. You really have some journaling to do later, or something.

“So perfect,” Hyunjin mutters, letting his head fall, burying his face in your shoulder, “So fucking perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

You’re the lucky one, you think to yourself. Your brain is simultaneously too full and too empty to say anything coherent, so you just lay there, wrap your limbs around Hyunjin as well as you can. He gets the message, you think, because he snuggles more firmly into you and turns his head to press a kiss to your jaw.

He’s warm, and kind of heavy, but you don’t want him to move, or to pull out of you. Just let this minute last a little longer, you think. Just a little longer, before you have to talk about what all of this means.

---------------

You only know you’ve fallen asleep when you wake up.

There’s a weight on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. For a second you think you have sleep paralysis, until you get a face-full of blonde hair and realize that it’s just Hyunjin, fast asleep on top of you.

“Get up,” you say, pushing on him gently, “And, ew, let me clean up.”

You can feel his cum drying on the inside of your thighs, where it trickled out around his softened cock while you slept. It’s kind of nasty, but the memory of all the hazy lust-filled things you said to each other makes you not mind so much.

Hyunjin yawns audibly, right next to your head, and then he peels himself off you.

“Sorry,” he grins. “Are your arms asleep?”

“No. Doesn’t your neck hurt from laying like that?”

He presses a smacking kiss to your forehead. “No. You’re a good pillow.”

Hyunjin pulls out of you and climbs gingerly off the bed. You squint around the room until your eyes find a glowing digital clock on his bedside; it’s only just past midnight.

“Shower and then sleep?” Hyunjin offers.

“Sounds good.”

He helps you to your feet, laughing as your knees threaten to buckle despite the cooldown period you’ve had.

“I hope I didn’t cross any lines,” he says tentatively, “I took a risk with all that baby talk and-”

“I liked it,” you admit, shy.

“Really?”

You nod. “I mean, we shouldn’t do anything stupid. Not right now. But just to play with, in the bedroom…”

Grinning, you fan yourself dramatically with your hand, like you’re a proper lady being overwhelmed with the saucy behavior of your male paramour.

Hyunjin laughs again. “Good to know.”

He shows you across the hall to the bathroom, men’s hair and skin and shaving products lined up next to rainbow-packaged kiddie shampoo and a small bin full of bath toys. As the shower is warming up, steam and the sound of rushing water filling the bathroom, he nudges you with his elbow.

“I knew all along that you were just into me because I have a kid,” he says.

You consider it, as you pull back the shower curtain and test the water. It’s warm, so you draw the curtain fully back and step under the spray. Peeking out at him, water starting to run down your back and warm your skin the way that Hyunjin’s presence warms you on the inside, you smile.

“Guess you’re just a DILF.” 

💕💕💕💕