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#<- i'm rambling ignore this last part
cordeliawhohung · 1 year
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When will you do more parts of soft spot?
hi :)
as much as i appreciate the interest in soft spot, i just want to reiterate that i do work in health care!! i work 10 hour shifts, and am also chronically ill (the irony, really). because of this, my writing schedule is very hectic, and i also don't have a regular upload schedule either haha. i write whenever i am able to and post the parts as soon as i'm finished pretty much, so please be patient with me )):
if it makes you feel any better, i am at 5k words for the next part! it's just taking a little longer because it's mostly smut and that's honestly a huge weak spot of mine writing wise a;slkdfjs
but uh yeah i am just a little guy ):
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byanyan · 9 months
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thinking about how one of byan's nicknames was originally supposed to be yanyan, hence the url byanyan, but it never caught on/stuck bc it was supposed to be specific to only certain people... so it just hasn't been a thing for three whole years but i haven't had the energy to come up with a new url
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zickmonkey · 6 months
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Oh my god hey besties guess who's having an awful time like mentally
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sleepy-bunbun-ace · 2 years
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i'm going to be honest, i have no idea for any events in the sekai swapped leaders au other than tsukasa being forced to actually go to school in person because a student hacked the online school website/program/whatever and now it's down until the situation is resolved.
since kanade is in wonderlands x showtime in this au, she would be going to school in person since she doesn't have the need to compose 24/7. tsukasa on the other hand....
oh well, at least he can finally meet amia (or well, mizuki) in person since kamiyama was the closest school to him. the event would focus around him and his struggles about adjusting to in person school again and what happens in there after being online for so long. also having to adjust to not composing 24/7 or eating cup noodles for every meal. he can cook but it takes his time from composing.
he does meet rui, nene, kanade, and emu personally though. i'm still deciding if kanade goes to miya with emu or kamiyama. maybe he can reconnect with an old friend while he's there...
at least the lie he tells saki about going to school isn't a lie now.
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girl if you have the time to send me a 6 seconds voice message you have time to take the extra 4 seconds and spell that shit out just fucking TEXT me
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The concept of the Cookies holding mixed feelings about humans is incredibly fascinating to me.
Like.
Who accepts their fate to be eaten? Who's a raging misanthrope?
Who holds the happy dream that they can one day live in peace with humans? Who is mocked for saying that not all humans are like that?
Who worships them? Who doesn't believe in them? Who doesn't understand why they're hated at all?
Who befriends one, and is surprised to know that everyone else is afraid of them?
The way Cookie Run is such, so that it's established that there's a benevolent sect of humans, and the nasty sect of them.
It all depends on whether you were lucky enough to be born under.
Too bad this goes unmentioned in both canon and fanon.
Would there be those death cults that pray for their consumption?
Would there be the secretly fatalistic, and pray for their deaths by the hands of DE, despite the fact that she's probably NEVER going to be able to gather enough power to kill them all, and that the Cookie controlled society will be doomed because no new Cookies will be baked?
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mss-eclipse · 7 months
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I love when my girlfriend starts thirsting after me with the same energy as lesbians who thirst after lady dimitrescu
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neoanedotheart · 2 months
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Lazy thing i wanted to do!!! they're just silly :3
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I think dave is a pretty princess and John is awkward
I'll be yapping below
I believe that Dave texts John right after he gets his ass handed to him DAILY. It usually plays out like this where they banter and Dave never really goes through the extent of explaining what thoroughly happens to him so John lives in forever ignorant bliss. And this leads Dave to feel like there's more of disconnect because he first of all doesn't really know how to articulate his feelings and second abuse doesn't seem like abuse to the victim. So he goes about everyday unknowingly yearning to be saved by someone greater than him, which is why I put the snow white reference at the end hehe.
Snow white as a fairy tale is extremely cliche, you got the prince in shining armor showing up conveniently on a horse and saving the girl. There's always this hierarchy placed upon the story where the damsel in distress is saved by a man, that man being portrayed as a greater being.
And with John taking place as the prince in this context paints him as this greater being. And I feel like a part of Dave envies and despises John for being this way, for being "perfect" or in a way. Greater than him.
The thing is in the original snow white story she's unconscious, that's undesirable. But it adds to the desperation of wanting to be saved, shining a better looking light on a person who isn't really there for reasons you want them to be. However John is a sincere person, it's more so the lack of communication or true understanding of one another that leads to this rift, this belief that John isn't there for Dave because he loves him, but because he's his friend and it's John's duty as a friend to save him. Which also brings me to the last line where Dave never corrects himself, and how he insinuates that he'll be unconscious due to being placed in a glass coffin much like snow white was when she was poisoned. He's at this stage where he doesn't want to be saved by an outer source, a greater person than him. He wants to be saved by himself he wants to prove worthy, but then conflicting within his mind is also this idea he isn't good enough to. We all know that Dave believes he isn't a hero and explicitly states John is the hero multiple times throughout homestuck. So he stays waiting.
John however, refers to Dave as Cinderella, Cinderella gets abused and put through plenty of torture from her step sisters and is saved through marriage of some person she just met. There's still this base line of being saved by man however there's this more mutual understanding of what they're getting into, a similar yearn for one another. Though he never caught her name he was still willing to find her, the real her. Which is John in this case, he probably understands he's missing something in the big picture but can never find out what and the best he can do is hope that the other half still held on to what they once were and was willing to share.
This is a pre-sburb interaction btw they're just unknowingly foreshadowing a shit ton.
Sorry if there's like bad shitty writing in here, I'm rambling and it's like almost midnight hehe
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.
I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them
I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊
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omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—
you have more than just your family interested in taking you.
major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx
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(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.
you are a product of a one-night-stand.
but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.
your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.
you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.
it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.
the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.
after all, your freedom is your doom.
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maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.
connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.
if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.
the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.
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enhagvrl · 11 days
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en- making up to you
a/n: tqsm for your love on the first part!! yall the best <33 not proofread so please ignore the grammar and spelling errors if any.
previous part
lee heeseung
You had switched off your phone and were sitting quietly in the park.. After spending some time thinking, you eventually decided that it was just a joke and he did not actually mean it of course. You guys were now far from all those high school years and unnecessary gossip to give them a thought so it just might have slipped out from his mouth. 
                    back at home…
The clock on the wall chimed, signalling that it hit midnight- and you were still not home. Heeseung had spent the last few hours working his head to find out what action or word of his had caused you to dash off like that, without even turning back once. Hee had sent you many texts and calls but they all went in vain. He was about to enter the kitchen to fetch a glass of water when he stopped, hearing the front door creak open. 
“where were you? Your phone was switched off. I know you told me you’ll be back but it struck midnight and I just became so worried." Heeseung went on rambling, taking a breath only when your hand came to rest upon his shoulder. 
“ I'm okay. Sorry for rushing out like that. It's just that I needed some fresh air. Nothing to worry about hee.” you said, giving him a small smile while turning away to head towards your bedroom.
“ It's about me saying you're crazy right?” you stopped in your tracks but didn't turn around. 
Seeing you stop, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you - his head leaning a little against yours so that his mouth is directly next to your ears.
“ Baby, you know I've loved ever since I laid my eyes on you. I'm sorry if what I said hurt you. You can do whatever you want - but please don’t ever think I will turn my back on you. I have never once come to believe those baseless rumours about you. Please forgive me. I don't know how it just slipped out but I promise there won't be a next time. Really. Please, sweetheart. Don't leave me alone again like that.” 
Without turning back, you simply removed Heeseung's hands from you and pulled him along with you towards the bedroom. There you sat down on the edge of the bed pulling heeseung on top of you.
You simply sat there holding him close to you - your hands tapping away a random beat on his stomach while his eyes did not move from your face, observing every single feature. 
“I will agree I felt a bit upset at first hearing it but then again, it's been years since I got to hear that word about me but I realised I don't really care anymore now. It’s fine though, I’m over it. So don’t worry anymore.” saying this, you gave a small kiss on heeseung’s arms which were now wrapped around your neck. 
Heeseung could only sit there and look at you with his bambi eyes, all teary and round. 
“ Remind me again, how did I score you?” he says playfully, giggling when you bring up your hand to pinch his nipple (cue to jw doing it in en-o’clock)
“HEY! THAT’S VIOLATION RIGHT THERE!” saying this you are pushed on the bed with a tickling battle announcing its arrival. Sleep? Forget it. 
park jongsaeng
The clock rang a small tune - the time being 2 a.m. but the man on the bed just kept tossing from one side to another. Even though Jay is known for falling asleep easily anytime, tonight it just did not seem possible. 
Not being able to take it anymore, Jay got up from the bed and headed towards the living room only to find out that all the lights were off and you were sound asleep on the couch. He could only sigh and close in on your sleeping figure and that’s when he noticed some dried tear stains on your cheeks. That’s when he knew he messed up. 
The next morning you woke up feeling all stuffy and unable to breathe as if something was weighing down on you and you opened your eyes only to be greeted by the sight of Jay sleeping on your chest. You almost melted right there because of how cute his face looked being squished on your chest but then the memories of last night came into your mind and you stiffened up.
Carefully pushing the sleeping figure off your body, you get up and head towards the bathroom to start your day. Coming back to cook some breakfast you were surprised to find your boyfriend already awake and making some simple toast for the both of you. Without uttering a word, you started cutting some fruits to make juice.
You had only gone halfway to cutting an apple when you felt something rest on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ears and a hand resting beside the cutting board. 
“I’m so sorry for those harsh words last night. I really didn't mean them. I have no idea what came over me at that time, but it still doesn’t excuse the fact that I said those words to you. I hope you forgive me and know that I love listening to you talking. Even if the world was ending, your voice would be enough to keep me alive. So please don’t be mad at me, my pretty baby or else I would not hesitate to jum-”  before he could complete that sentence you gave him a quick kiss on his mouth. 
“Now you’re the one going on rambling. I forgive you and I was never that mad at you in the first place. Just got a little upset. But it’s all gone now seeing my future husband cooking for me :) I love you ” Jay only chuckled at your words and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead muttering a “i love you too” with his signature smile. Five minutes later you two were back on the couch with two plates of your breakfast and two glasses of apple juice.
Throughout the while, you kept on talking about all sorts of stuff while Jay was only giving short replies and looking at you with a tender smile on his face. You were suddenly pulled into a soft kiss by the said man when he said these words pulling away from the kiss, 
“ Your voice is the sound my ears crave and they were made for listening to you only. I’m sorry. I love you.” 
As he whispered these words close to your face with his eyes boring into yours and his breath fanning your lips, you simply took his juice and had a sip from it while maintaining eye contact with him with a serious face which made the said man let out a laugh. 
“I love you too :) '' you said taking another bite of your toast making Jay let out a small chuckle at your stuffed up face and your antics.
sim jaeyun
“Oi! Why are you running away?” Jake huffed catching up to you as you speed walked after paying for your ice creams.
“ nothing. Just tired. Want to sleep.” “Okay now that’s where I know I've messed up so can you please tell me before I go around shouting to the whole world that my girlfriend is mad at me.”
“ you would not do that.” “oh watch me.” saying that he immediately got down to his knees ready to shout whatever he was planning to when you ran towards and covered his mouth with your hand. 
“You-” you whisper shouted to him, pulling him up before he could attract any attention from the people moving about. 
“ Tell me what I did wrong, baby please or else I’ll take away Layla from you.” he said, his eyes being all shiny while his face displayed a sad pout - which you oh so badly wanted to kiss away but had to restrain yourself.
“ you think for yourself, smarty pants.” you said, walking down the road.
“Was it because I teased you earlier? Cmon babyyyy you know I didn't mean it. I’m sorry.” Jake whined, pulling at your sleeves while you were pulling the pouty boy along with you.
“ It did not feel good to hear that, Jake.” you stopped in your tracks, your words making Jake know you’re genuinely upset. 
You both stopped walking - the night’s wind blowing through your hair while Jake’s hand had slipped from holding your sleeve to taking your hands in his.
“I’m sorry, love. I just meant to tease you. I did not consider it might hurt your feelings and that’s my fault. Please forgive me?” his sincere apology with those puppy eyes you were being shown, you could not resist it anymore.
“Ay, ay, whatever. Not like I was mad at you or something, just got a little offended there. Anyways, I'm better at soccer than you for sure.” saying this you took a big bite from his ice cream and ran away while he was stunned for a second.
“Yayyy :) wait what- MY ICE CREAM!! NOOO!!!” 
park sunghoon
The next morning you woke up like usual and did your business while Sunghoon slept in for a very long time. It was right around noon when Sunghoon woke up from his sleep. Coming down from the bedroom he was met with the sight of gaeul eating her food while you were beside her sewing some scarf.
“Good morning. More like afternoon but yeah.” you said, noticing the tall man rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“weren't we supposed to be going somewhere today? Don’t tell me we missed the flight.” Sunghoon’s eyes widened at the fact that maybe you two missed on the whole trip. 
“Don’t worry about the trip. I cancelled it.” you say, being all nonchalant which surprised Sunghoon.
He approached you on the couch, taking a seat beside you while his body was turned towards you showing that you had his full attention.
“What do you mean you cancelled the trip? Why? We were supposed to go bungee jumping together.” he said, confusion evident on his face.
“Well, we can do that another time. For now, let’s just spend some time indoors.” you said, turning your head towards him.
He seemed taken aback by your sudden change in plans but nevertheless didn’t question it much. He only nodded to your response and got up, going back into the room while you went back to sewing. 
The day passed on by slowly, as you two spent time watching a movie then playing a video game together, and as the day was slowly coming to an end you both ended up in the kitchen trying to make dinner together.
Sunghoon’s mind was not calm though. For the whole evening you had been replying to him in a few words or just one nod of your head. He knew something was wrong but could not put his finger on it. He did not even remember what took place last night cause he was so sleep deprived at that moment. 
Gathering up courage, Sunghoon walked over to you who was busy cutting up the last few chillies for the spice. He cleared his throat once he was beside you to get your attention.
“...did…something happen? You don't look very…happy to have me around.” You managed to let out a small smile at his words.
“Why would you think that?” “because you seem very distant.”
“What do you think is the reason?” you answered, keeping the knife away.
“You wanted to go on the trip but cancelled it for some reason?” he said, confused.
“What do you think is the reason?”
“ baby, stop beating around the bush. I really do not know the reason. I don't even remember what happened before I passed out last night because of the fatigue. Please tell me. Did something happen? Did I do something?”  Sunghoon said, frustrated at your silence when all he wanted that evening was to spend time with you.
“You lashed out on me last night saying you do not want to go anywhere. Hence why I cancelled the trip. That happened.” you muttered out, voice so quiet Sunghoon wouldn’t have been able to catch the hurt you portrayed in them.
“...I lashed out on you? When? I…I'm sorry I really don’t know.” “ You did. Maybe it was because you were sleepy and tired but I get it. We should spend some time together in our house also. I am sorry.”
Sunghoon immediately placed his hands on your shoulders with a questioning expression, “ what are you sorry for? I am sorry. Even if I was tired, it was not nice of me to take it out on you. Don’t be sorry. I love making memories of different experiences with you, really. I know that I may not be as outgoing and extroverted as you but trust me when I say if it’s you I’m ready to go to space too. I guess I was just really exhausted but that’s no excuse to lash out on you. I’m sorry.” 
You nodded and softly bumped your head into his chest to which he responded by bringing you into his arms muttering small ‘i love you’s and ‘i would never get mad at you’s. 
After a while of you guys hugging there, you built up the courage to say - 
“ also, news came that the bungee jumping line broke so we wouldn't have been able to go anyways. Hehe.” 
Oh. that's why.
kim sunoo
“(name)!!!!!!!” Sunoo shouted while running down the stairs.
You were busy scooping out the ice cream from the tub to notice that Sunoo had made himself comfortable on the counter. 
“ Here you go,” you say, handing over his bowl.
Sunoo hesitantly takes his bowl, noticing the sudden change in the air. You quietly set aside the ice cream tub and started to eat from your bowl. Sunoo was dying to ask you if something happened but decided to wait till you guys were back in your bedroom. 
Once you guys settled back into your bedroom, you sat down with a book while Sunoo went to proceed with his skin care for the night. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other for an hour now and it was beginning to eat him so he decided to confront you. 
“ Did I do something to upset you?” he asked, popping out from the bathroom with a face mask on. 
“No,why?” you asked, voice not carrying any emotion.
“....you’ve just been really quiet. Tell me, what’s on your mind?” he voices out his concern, plopping down on the bed beside you. 
You were debating whether to tell him or not. In case, he might not believe you.
“I kind of got a little upset when you said that no one would believe me. Because you know how I was in the past and all..” you said, your voice lowering towards the end of the sentence
“When did I say tha….OH! Aaa baby noooo I did not mean it in a literal sense. I’m so sorryyyyy.” he said, immediately climbing on top of you to give you a big hug.
“Really though. I am so sorry I made you upset. That was not my intention. I must have said that without any thought. I am sorry. Please forgive meeee”, Sunoo says while basically rolling all over your body to get you to forgive him.
“Okay okay you big baby i get it. I get it. I forgive you now, please can you get off?” you said, a smile making its way onto your face. 
Sunoo got up from the bed and was now standing beside your figure. He looked all happy, with his smile reaching his eyes. 
The next minute you find yourself sitting on the counter of your bathroom, Sunoo standing between your legs and his hands rubbing the lotion gently on your skin.
“I’m so glad you told me what was concerning you. I am sorry once again and I promise this will never happen again. Tell me if I ever go overboard with my words again, hm?”
Your heart filled up with comfort and warmth because of how genuine he was. Letting a smile pain itself on your face, you gave him a small peck.
“ It’s okay. It’s all in the past now. Don’t worry about it. You’re forgiven. I love you hm?”
“ I love you too. Now let me spoil my queen.” you could only let out a laugh while sunoo slapped a sheet mask on your face.
yang jungwon
You were swinging on one of the swings in the local park, taking in the cold night air when suddenly a maltese came running up to you. You immediately recognise its maeumi and take him up in your arms. Soon after you hear footsteps following and you knew it was him.
Jungwon takes a seat on the swing beside yours and turns his head towards you, who’s still not looking at him but playing with maeumi. 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me to let those words out. I never meant them.Maybe I was just a little worried. I do not have any excuse. Just please forgive me. I’ll let you have all my gummy bears also.” he paused a bit, awaiting some reaction from you but was disappointed when he got nothing. 
“Please give some love to your boyfriend here. I am your baby, not maeumi. Please. Please.” he said, getting up from the swing and bringing his face in front of yours while pulling the cutest expression. 
You put down maeumi and stand up, holding Jungwon's face and giving a big, wet smooch in his lips - taking him by surprise. 
“It’s okay. I forgot about it all anyways. Thanks for worrying. Let’s go home?” you said pulling out from the short kiss which made Jungwon lose all senses for a second. 
“Bleh. I love you too. I aint washing my face at all now. Lechugooo” he said holding your hand in his now cold one and calling maeumi to stay close.
“I never said I love you though?” “ You kissed me. That said more than enough hehe.”
nishimura riki
“(NAME)! OYE!”, niki’s voice echoed through the hallways as you made your way outside the building. You were pulled back by a hand two times your size holding your arm. 
“ Are you okay? Why would you run off like that? “ the taller boy questioned,voice laced with worry and confusion evident on his face.
You could only nod your head in response. You don’t know what came upon you but you were not feeling good - not at all.  
“ i’m sorry i..i don't feel so good.” you said holding his arm to steady yourself
“ just-  just hold onto me, okay?” niki voiced out, holding you close by and bringing you back inside the practice room, settling you down in one corner of the lobby.
You knew why you were feeling like this. You had been ignoring your health in order to get into SDC and as expected, your body was not taking it well. Still you dared to push it a lot more till it brought you to right now -  where you are feeling nauseous even though you know nothing is inside your body.
Ten minutes had passed since Ni-ki was gone. You were now feeling a little better, no more nauseous. You almost fell asleep when his voice woke you up.
“ hey. (name). Here, take this.” he said, handing you a simple sandwich with some pineapple juice. Your go-to breakfast. 
You silently muttered a “thank you” and took a bite of the sandwich filled with vegetables and took a sip from the juice; your body genuinely thanking you for finally eating something good. 
While you were devouring down on your food, Niki was sitting on the small couch beside you - his eyes filled with adoration and his lips bent up in a small smile. 
“ You should’ve told me that you have not been taking care of yourself. No. I should have noticed it. Such a bad partner aint i?” he voiced out, a little sarcasm and a little seriousness simultaneously. 
“ Of course not. I’m sorry for not telling you. I really have been trying hard for the contest but maybe it’s not meant to be.” you said, taking the last bite from your sandwich and doing a happy dance, having your stomach filled, which made niki let out a chuckle. 
“ I am sorry. It was wrong of me to say that.” 
“what?” you asked, confused by his sudden apology. 
Niki let out a sigh and continued “ I’m sorry for saying those mean stuff to you. I did not mean it that way. As a fellow dancer, i know how bad it is when it comes to competing and i was....inconsiderate of your feelings here. I'm sorry."
" well...as long as you know and admit your faults, i'm okay with it. You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes you know?"
Niki could only let out a little laugh and nodded his head to your words. " I love you a lot, you know that right?"
Nodding your head, you got up from your couch and whispered right beside his ear an " i love you too, your dork head" and ran away after hitting him on the back of his head.
“YOU LITTLE SHORT ASS!” 
tags: @loumin908 @gardenwons @whateverhoon @moonpri @lovcremez
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tiny-space-platypus · 2 months
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Never really fit back in
Part 2 Daniel or Danyal or Danny?
previous
Danyal took a deep breath. There was only one person who could bring him to his brother. One person who could get him into the Wayne household. Vlad Masters, his godfather, though things were getting better with Vlad it was still awkward. He doubted he'd ever fully trust him but he was the only adult around who knew what he was and at least for right now wasn't trying to kill him for it. Plus he had access to the Wayne Galas and as his heir Danny did too.
"Daniel" Vlad smiled at him and offered him a seat at his table. "I was quite surprised when you asked to have a meeting with me" Danyal took a seat as dinner was served to them. He hesitated before speaking. Danny had been trying to prepare what to say to Vlad all day but now he was here, his mind went blank.
"I-" He paused as he pursed his lips before stealing his nerves once again. "I'd like to take up your offer of being your heir." Vlad stopped moving for a second as his smile faltered. he stared at Daniel. The silence was deafening. Danyal continued or well rambled after an uncomfortably long few minutes of silence. "The Fenton household hasn't felt safe in.. Well it's never been safe but ever since my accident it's just gotten worse. The house is always attacking me, even though my parents- Even though Maddie and Jack know I'm Phantom now that hasn't stopped them- actually I think they've just been ignoring me. And-"
"Daniel,"
"Since Jazz left for college, I've only really had Sam and Tucker but-"
"Daniel"
"They're now busy preparing for their own futures and all that-"
"Daniel!" Vlad spoke a little louder silencing Danny again then sighed. "I will gladly take you in, Daniel. It's the least I can do for you" Danyal relaxed a bit, though not too much. Vlad might be better now but he's still a power hungry fruitloop. Danny still had to be careful but at least Vlad's manor wasn't actively trying to destroy him. At least Vlad acknowledged his existence. And so Danny's new life began.
A few new changes happened after he started to live with Vlad. One he changed his legal name to Danyal (it just felt more real), he and Vlad still argue over changing his last name over to Masters but Danny's not ready for that. Danny had to start taking etiquette classes from both Dorothy and Vlad, Vlad had gotten him plenty of suits and other more comfortable clothes, and Danny had full access to his lab. Though Danny didn't go down there often, it gave him the creeps in a bad way. Most labs did at this point. Instead he had taken over a large room and had a work desk where he tinkered on what ever her felt like tinkering on, or schoolwork, or the loads of paper work he had to do for the Infinite Realms. It was kind of nice having Vlad help with that though at least someone could explain what half of it meant and wasn't as secretive as Clockwork.
Four months passed and things were going great actually. Things were finally starting to feel alright again, maybe this was the best decision. Eventually Danny did tell Vlad about being Damian's brother only because he would have to confront Damian at the Wayne Christmas gala.
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Damian just like his other siblings dreaded the galas but they were important. It was important to keep building relationships with the public and the rich. It was important to keep a mask on and play the very rich found family of Brucie Wayne. It was important to keep their night life out of the picture.
Damian got ready with his siblings as usual. He listened and complained with them about the Gala as Jason laughed and praised being "dead". At least being the youngest meant he wasn't as bothered by the guests as the rest of his siblings were. All he had to do was introduce himself to the guests, have his picture taken a thousand times and lurk around the party. A boring night that would be much better spent on patrol. Though he was just has confident that the others could Patrol Gotham without them as his father.
The gala was about normal, he greeted guests with his father as Tim went out to do some networking. Dick playing as his usual self, Cass lurking around, Steph tormenting people by being her eccentric self, and Duke wandering around and making small talk. The night was normal till Masters arrived.
By that point Damian had broken off from his father and went to see and spend time with his siblings. Though something felt off after about a half hour. Damian went to report this to his father only to find him still speaking with Masters who had a boy with him. He paid no mind to him. "Father there's-" Damian paused then looked at the boy standing next to Masters who was smiling at him.
Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal.
Damian just stared at Danny with a look of horror that his father caught quickly. Before Bruce could pull Damian away he heard his brother speak.
"Hello, Damian. It's nice to see you again"
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Bruce had never seen his son like that before. He had never seen that look on his son's face before. Something had to be wrong he just didn't know what yet. Bruce excused both himself and Damian from the Masters and brought Damian over to the others. He looked at his son who looked both terrified and shell shocked. Bruce spoke softly.
"Damian, are you alright chum?"
Damian started to hyperventilate and mumble in Arabic. Damian normally spoke in Arabic when upset but this was very clearly different. Bruce brought Damian to his room, not because he was in trouble but because he was freaking out and needed some quiet. That night for the first time Damian openly cried in front of Bruce. That night for the first time Damian held onto Bruce like his life depended on it and sobbed. That night for the first time Damian sobbed into his father.
Bruce didn't know what the Masters did to his son but they won't get away with it. That he swore. He'll have Tim and Barbara look into them later for now his son needs him.
Next
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littledigits · 10 months
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Its hard to describe the complex emotions I'm having today, its a mixture of bittersweet sadness, feirce proudness, and everything deeper that comes from having put yourself and your emotions into a show for so many years. I'mm do the thank you thing below - but words dont really do it justice.
THANK YOU to my core Team, you know who you all are, for giving me trust, room to grow, patience and guidance when I made mistakes. All of the support you have given me I will pay forward, because it was only with your trust in me that I could leave this show as strong and confidant as I am. Within that core team there is a very smol team of 4 Special people. Andy Coyle, Chantal Ling, Johnny and Kathleen Mckinnon. I will never forget our nights in the editing room in season 1, grabbing some drinks and pizza as we go through the roughcuts. There were ups and downs but I'm glad to have gone through the chaos with ya'll <3 THANK YOU. To every single person who has touched this project, from the very first pitch to the very last file conform. Our crew has been world wide, and while I dont know everyone, I see and appreciate the work and heart you have put into your time with us. I dont care if you were on the show for a day or a decade, you're a part of it, and I dont take that for granted. THANK YOU to the team at Atomic Cartoons for your work in season 1, and the team at Lighthouse Studios for the animation team who came on season 1 and 3. You all rose to an immense challenge. The Hilda animation team is more then just Mercury, and i'm proud to have worked with you. There are people on the show who look back on it fondly, but counter to that there are people who were not supported how they should have been. I want those people to know that I will take these experiences and push to be better always, your experiences are as valid. THANK YOU to the fans! I see your hype and art and theorys and stories. I hope you will enjoy the wild ride of this last season, but I also hope you all ignore 'canon' and just create to your hearts content. The world lives on, there are still secrets and folklore and mystery - they are now yours to build <3 I could write more, I could write NOVELS, but I think people who know me know how I feel so I will refrain from rambling. Take a breath, and try not to sob at everyone writing beautiful things about what the show meant to them. ( spoiler alert, im going to fail )
Thank you all for being a part of this adventure - Where shall we go next ?
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thebisexualdogdad · 11 months
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One Piece preferences - how they tell you that they like you (GN!reader)
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Luffy -
● Luffy is not one for shame or embarrassment yet he's always nervous around you
● he always awkwardly rambles when you're near him
● and he even asks if you want the last bite of food before he takes it for himself like usual
● he goes to Usopp first for advice which Sanji and Zoro overhears and tells him to ignore Usopp's terrible advice and listen to them instead
● which then Nami overhears and calls them all idiots and gives Luffy actually good advice
● Luffy finally tells you he likes you but rambles again while talking so you kiss him to shut him up
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Nami -
● she doesn't
● you have to make the first move
● even when you do tell her you like her she makes you work for it
● "I'll go out with you when we find the one piece"
● "I'm holding you to that"
● a couple months later when she thinks you've proven yourself she sets two plates of food in front of you guys
● "what's this?"
● "we're on a date"
● "I thought you weren't going to go out with me until we found the one piece?"
● "I changed my mind now start eating before I change it again"
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Sanji -
● He is very confident and makes it known he likes you the moment you meet
● He flirts with you the entire time you're eating in the baratie
● "Anything else I can get for you cutie? I've been told I make a mighty fine dessert, that is unless you want me for dessert instead"
● "just the check please sweet talker"
● he brings the check to you with his number written on the bottom
● "just so you know I do accept tips in the form of a date"
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Zoro -
● no matter how much Luffy points out to Zoro that he likes you he refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you
● It's not until you get critically hurt in a fight that he finally admits to himself that he likes you
● you've been unconscious for days and he never leaves your side while you're recovering
● you wake up to him sitting at your bedside and you've never seen him look this worried
● "thank God I thought I lost you"
● "you saying you care about me Zoro?"
● "yes Y/N, I care you about you a lot so please don't do that to me again"
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Usopp -
● always brings you flowers and little trinkets
● "I saw this in town and thought you'd like it"
● names one of his slingshot moves after you
● all around gentleman trying to woo you
● Zoro "you know he likes you right"
● "of course I know, I just think it's sweet how hard he tries"
● the first time you kiss him on the cheek to thank him for your gift he blushes so hard and nearly faints
● he goes around proudly telling everyone that you kissed him and that he's your boyfriend now
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Buggy -
● puts on an entire show for you
● pulling out all of his best jokes and stunts
● making the crowd cheer extra hard
● he does a huge speech throughout the entire performance about how you two could conquer the world together
● and how he needs you by his side to be the best pirate he can be
● for his final trick he uses his powers to send his hand up to you with a bouquet of flowers
● "what do you say Y/N? Want to be my co captain?"
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Shanks -
● whenever he's in town he tells you stories of his adventures over drinks at the bar
● and always gives you part of his treasure that his crew found on their recent voyage as gifts
● "You're really giving me this? Do you know how valuable it is?"
● "There's no treasure in this world that I value more than you"
● "well Shanks it sounds like you're trying to tell me that you like me"
● "I would travel the entire ocean for you my dear Y/N and I would love if you joined me on my next adventure"
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Mihawk-
● Literally kills a guy for you
● you're complaining about some jerk you ran into at the bar
● he mumbles "he shall pay for disrespecting my Y/N" and excuses himself
● he returns a little bit later with the guys decapitated head in his hand and blood on his shirt
● "you said you had a problem with this guy so I killed him in your honor"
● "Oh thats… sweet"
● "I knew you'd be impressed. So, dinner?"
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Cabaji -
● always tries to look cool in front of you
● doing tricks on his unicycle
● like riding it through a flaming hoop
● or having you stand on his shoulders while he cycles around the ring
● or putting someone on the spinning wheel and throwing knives at them landing impossibly close to their skin
● "that was cool wasn't it Y/N"
● "sure was Cabaji"
● "So what do you say you and I get drinks together sometime?"
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14thgalerie · 11 months
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you know other women?
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey
• word count: 1.2k
• genre: smut (suggestive)
— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!
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“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”
There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. 
“You know other women?”
Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip. 
“Theodore.”
He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.
“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.
“Answer me.”
“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.
Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue. 
His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.  
“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?” 
Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.
“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.
Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.
A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence. 
Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him. 
“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”
The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him. 
His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.
“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”
Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.
It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.
His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch. 
When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 
You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.
His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.
“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”
To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin. 
“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”
He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”
“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”
Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.
The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high. 
In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.
“No touching.” You warn. “But-“
“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.
“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”
You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.
“See you at dinner.”
“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end. 
“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.
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masterlist
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prael · 8 months
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c'est la vie - Kim Minju
Part 3 of folie à deux.
IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male reader smut. (ft. a sprinkle of Wonyoung)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Masterlist word count: 10,553
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c'est la vie - that's life
"I'm so fucked."
Fists clenched and eyes scrunched, you’re venting out loud to no one in particular. You repeat it, "I'm so fucked." Louder this time—to the sky. Well, more accurately, to the plastered ceiling of this little hole-in-the-wall. Either way, the solution isn't there.
It isn't at the bottom of a bottle either, but you're determined to find that out the hard way.
"Is there a friend I can call for you?" The woman behind the bar has stopped polishing off the glasses; interrupted by what she would say are the ramblings of a madman.
"There's no coming back from this." You throw your head forward, catching it in your now open hands, elbows resting on the wooden bar top.
"Sir? I'm going to call you a—"
"I don't need a cab." You draw your head from your hands and open your eyes—allowing the light to pour onto you from one of those little round lights above you. The drink sits in front of you, unfinished. Hard liquor in a tumbler just waiting to be thrown back like the three before it—a plea you can’t ignore. The large ice cube rests against your nose as you pour every last drop onto your tongue and swallow. "I do need another drink."
With the glass set back down, your body slouches and sinks. Eyes stare down at the empty glass and your face is cold to the world, cold to the woman across from you. You must reek of self-pity, the smell thick in the air. 
Let’s be honest, you've had far better days.
She's got her delicate fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring you a fresh drink and placing it on a napkin, "you know, you're not the first person to stumble into this bar wearing a face like that."
You slide your eyes over to the glass and reach for it. "I highly doubt it."
"But, few of them show up this early, even if it is a Friday." She has a point: you’re propping up the bar alone and drowning your sorrows solo. In fact, there are only two other people in this whole place, sitting together at a table. "So what’s your story?"
"Does there have to be one?" You grip the glass in your hand, giving the stranger the best smile you can fake.
She steps back and brushes her hand on her trousers as she laughs, "I've seen many broken men and women sit at this bar and spend too many hours drinking their life savings, with hearts broken, dreams smashed and most of all, mistakes they regretted. But you seem different."
"Oh really, why's that?" Your eyes stare into your drink. It stares right back at you.
"You're still young."
"Does being broken have an age requirement?"
She shifts and reaches for something, something you can't quite make out, being locked in the most intimate of stares with your drink. It’s the sound of her placing down another fresh glass that gives it away. "Actually, yes. Because you've still got time to work with."
"That's the irony. All I have left is time."
“Then you have to believe in yourself to make the most of that time.” Her words are heavy, like their meaning holds weight within her too.
She lets you dwell on it for a moment while she pours her own drink. She settles herself against the bar top, across from you, resting her head in one open hand. Her gaze burns into you like sitting in the sun. You can feel something else too, a soft vibration in your pocket.
You finally break away from your staring contest with your drink—one you lost anyway—to fish your phone out of your pocket. The screen alights with Gaeul’s name and is followed by the words ‘1 new message’.
After a swipe, it reads, ‘wtf where are you? what happened?’ but the thought of sending a reply never crosses your mind. And, just in case, you switch it over to silent.
“Is that her?” The woman gently waves a slender finger towards your phone as you put it back where you found it. “The reason you’re here?”
"Do you press all your customers like this?"
“Only the interesting ones,” she returns her hand to her glass, taking a sip of it before continuing, “and there’s sadly so few of those.”
"And if I'm not as interesting as you think?"
"Then I'll buy you a drink.” She tilts her glass at you. "For the trouble."
"And if I'm fascinating?"
"I'll still buy you a drink." Another sip from her glass as her lip gloss stains the rim, "maybe two."
"Then no, it wasn't her." And here's the thing, you don't know who to blame. Yourself? Probably. Wonyoung? Maybe. The mystery cameraman who got it all on video? Almost definitely. 
“But it is another woman, right?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m not exactly rushed off my feet here.”
You sigh, unsure exactly where to begin with this whole mess. The complete story is a long one. You could tell her about your family—the trouble at home and why you had to leave—but that’s not for anyone to know.
"I transferred here. Moved here with my brother. He's at work right now, and he will be late into the evening." You pause to take another drink. Another burning sensation. "To keep food on our table and keep me in college." 
Even saying so little it weighs on you, the feelings of regret and the feeling that you're saying too much. You bite your tongue and hesitate.
"So why are you here and… you know... not at college?" She pushes you for more. She flicks a finger towards you with her free hand and then brings her glass to her lips.
You drag your eyes up for the first time and finally inspect the woman across from you.
She's your age, roughly—if you had to guess. She's pretty, and that part you're more confident about. She wears her long brunette hair over one shoulder, running in a loose wave, over her slate black blazer, which sits over a small black tee, cropped at the waist. She smiles when your eyes meet hers. And maybe she had no idea, and perhaps it's all subconscious, but the tips of her slender fingers squeeze slightly against the glass now that you're paying her some attention.
"I never got your name," you say with curiosity laden in your voice.
"Minju."
"And why is a young woman like you working here on a Friday afternoon?"
"Were you not the one telling me about your troubles?" She follows her words with a soft laugh.
"Call it quid pro quo. You answer and then I’ll tell you all about it," you say.
"Fine." She stands back upright, adjusting her blouse with a few gentle touches. The way her finger glides across the collar and tugs at it slightly. It's more than a little distracting. She cuts a sleek hourglass shape out of the shelves of bottled booze behind her. "I'm between gigs right now."
"Gigs?"
"Ah." She waves a finger. "My turn."
Minju tilts her head and then rests her palm against the bar—leaning toward you and eyes focused. It’s like an inspection and you instinctively sit up straighter.
"So why are you here?" she asks.
"Expelled. About..." You bring up your wristwatch into view. "About an hour ago."
Her brows go up a fraction and her eyes narrow on you again, almost as if to accuse you of lying to her. But her expression softens almost instantly. You would never notice if not for watching every second in painstaking detail. Her widening eyes reveal to you the thoughts passing through her mind as she racks her brain for a reason you would be expelled.
"You said that you're between gigs, so what is it you do?" you say, shifting the focus back away from yourself.
"I sing. I dance. I model. I act." She pauses with a bitter look. "However, right now, I serve drinks." You get it; she looks the part. That much is clear. She's far too gorgeous to be spending her time polishing glasses and serving screwdrivers to burnouts at happy hour. She looks every bit like a woman who should be so much more, but this isn't Hollywood, and the storybook tale of the waitress who makes it is so cliché.
You swill the last of your drink around in the glass, watching the little tidal pattern inside. The way the ice cube moves with the current, it hypnotises, entrances. You speak, looking down into the amber-hued ocean within your glass.
"And you have the talent to back up the looks?"
"So they tell me." There's no joy in the words or the tone. No pride or smug sense of achievement. If anything, it's dismissive. “It’s just a slow period. That’s life.”
“C’est la vie.” You catch her gaze as you utter the phrase under your breath.
Minju continues despite you, “but things will turn around soon enough. I'm going places."
"Every actor who is going places never seems to get there." Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's because, right now, you hate this city and everyone in it, but everything that comes out of your mouth is uncharacteristically curt.
And look, you regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth but that doesn't change the way you just dismissed her. It wasn't meant personally, but it's hard to stop your thoughts from curdling into words right now.
Minju is quiet, and the air becomes heavy. You swallow deep and finally look her in the eyes again. There's something there, some little flicker of emotion untold that gives her away for a moment. She is a woman told repeatedly that she has the world at her feet, but the hard truth of it is that she's here, working away behind the bar because, in fact, life is a lot more cruel.
Absorbed by her vulnerability, you feel the need to backtrack, "that's not—"
"So what, you look at me and see nothing but a girl who couldn't cut it?" There's a flash of fire in her eyes. A burn. A spark that sets the sky alight. A very attractive spark.
The way she fires it back. The passion in her words. The tension building between you as your eyes linger on each other.
You can't explain the attraction, but you can certainly feel it.
"No," you fire back without hesitation, leaning towards her, "what I see is a woman working two jobs just to afford a place to live." Your confidence rises with the alcohol pumping its way through your system and you do your damnedest to rescue the situation. "What I see is a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that somehow she still keeps alive where so many more have given up. I'm not judging."
Silence.
Sudden, silent, and slightly sinister.
"Yeah, you were," Minju's eyebrows arch in amusement, "but that's fine, I'll take my turn now."
As she leans forward, there are words on her tongue. She looks ready to bite back, but she's looking over you, across the room, watching the only other two people in the bar leave. And for a minute, everything is held in suspense, you are locked together in silence, the clap of their shoes echoing through it. Then the sound of the door, and the brief exposure to the outside world, it's the rain pouring and the cars passing by and then it's the slam shut. It's just you and her, Minju, alone under the dim of the lights.
"So what was it?" she finally breaks the silence.
"Hm?"
"What got you expelled?"
You could lie. There's an opportunity for that. But what's the point? Even though she's a stranger, it doesn't feel like there's a risk if you just come clean and spill your dirty little secret, besides, you owe her one now.
"I got caught fucking in the library." The truth comes out plain and simple. It’s a brazen statement to make in the middle of the afternoon to a stranger. Her gaze shoots down at you. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that.
"I’m sorry, you were caught fucking in the library?" She repeats it out quizzically as if she’s taking time to process. Minju has this way of talking—a lilt in her voice. She has a tone and a pitch that rises and falls with each word. She's amused, that much is clear, by the slight smirk that has curled a corner of her mouth to accompany her sound.
"We were alone, or at least we thought we were, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before, but apparently, there's evidence." You gesture your empty glass at her, a secondary conversation, unspoken but clear that you need another drink before you tell her anything else.
In doing so you see how she tenses her lips together, holding in her laughter at the thought. She’s holding and you’re watching until she finally cracks, her grin wide and laughter loud.
"Now I am the one judging you. You made fun of me for trying while you're too busy swinging your cock around to even try. So, you tell me, who is the stupid one here?"
"Alright I deserved that one." Your hand had been holding the empty glass to her but now you bring it to rest against the bar top. "In my defence, it's not like I had much of a choice. That girl..."
"Here we go. Let's see how you justify this one." She finally takes your empty glass and when the edge of her fingers brushes across the back of your hand, they linger for far too long. And when she draws back, dragging away those long, delicate fingers from your own, you find yourself suddenly cold.
"It's not like I could turn her down if I wanted to. Also I would never have done it in the library if she didn't make me."
"She 'made' you. Go on." There's scepticism in the words. Her mocking tone teasing you as you watch her turn to the shelves behind her, eyes scanning the possibilities.
"No one says no to her. Never."
"Wow, sounds like quite a woman," she says, ever more playful, as she reaches for the top shelf. Her blazer is pulled up now, ever so slightly exposing her back above the waist of her trousers. Trousers hugging the subtle swell of her hips. Her small, tight, round ass is defined through the fitted fabric. You can't look away.
"Everything comes easily for her. There are literally men fighting for her affections. They would die for her," the words tumble from your mouth, as your gaze lingers.
You must have been lost in the daze and absent-mindedly following the contours of her thighs because by the time you shift focus to her face, she's peering at you from over her shoulder. Eyes sharp as daggers, as if to say it’s a little too obvious.
"Wow she sounds like a real piece of work. I know someone like that too. " Minju turns with bottle in hand, hair swirling around her as she does so. She's graceful. Unbothered and unhurried by anything. "This one is perfect. This bottle is older than me."
She pours two fresh drinks with more ice in each.
"Am I going to regret this in the morning?" you question as the weight of the glass finds your hand.
"You might. But at this moment? No."
You trust her, somehow, inexplicably; you do.
She asks, “so, what will you do now?” it’s a question as funny as it is difficult to answer. 
The truth is that you haven’t got the slightest clue. You tell her as much and try to explain it as best you can, and her eyes soften as you share the details. It’s supposed to be a back-and-forth—quid pro quo—but she’s pressing you with question after question: how long have you known her? Is she pretty? Where does she see you in all of this?
“You and her. Still a thing?”
Minju is on your side of the bar now, sitting by your side with little caution about personal space; there’s not an inch of space between you. Her thigh presses against you and her upper arm is flush with your own.
"Me and Wonyoung were never a thing, not really."
Minju stops dead and chokes, holding her throat, and forcing the drink down. Her whole body shifts. She nearly falls off the bar stool and, after steadying herself, she stares blankly forwards.
"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?"
"Yeah, her." The new drink meets your lips and its taste is a hell of a lot richer than the cheap stuff you were pouring down. It’s laden with a smoky taste over sweet tones.
There's a silence even after you finish taking a drink. Something untold hangs in the air. You know it. She knows it. She's here on the verge of telling you something, but what? And you sit here and wait, despite the racing of your heartbeat.
"I should have known." Minju shakes her head, laughing, but without a smile.
"Should've known what?"
"You're Wonyoung's new toy. I should have guessed as soon as I saw you, she has this effect on people."
You stiffen at that. It's always the truth that hurts the most and the fact is you really were just a toy. A convenient dildo.
"You know what you need right now?" She twists on the stool, and suddenly, you've got Minju looking straight at you. Eyes locking with you. Right there. Looking up at you. So close. Right there, leaning back ever so slightly so her chest arches towards you, accentuating her small breasts, straining against her shirt.
"Drinking helps," you reply, raising your glass.
"Yes, but so does fucking."
That’s a line. It’s one that shouldn’t come as a surprise because a girl like this probably has a lot of experience in being wanted, so who is to say she can’t turn the table for once? But in one breath you’re giddy, taken out of yourself and feeling drunker by the moment. Not on the booze, but her. She is intoxicating.
It takes you a few seconds to notice but her free hand slips on your leg, rubbing and caressing as it snakes further and further up.
"What?" You ask as if it needs confirmation and in those long few moments, you think you must have imagined it. And the same way a nervous laughter rises, the laughter spilling out of your throat, she is quick to quench the growing dread inside of you by sliding her palm across your bulge.
"Wait here." Something has switched inside her. You don’t know what, but either way, it's got her standing up and strutting towards the door. With each step, she opens her body language. A growing swagger, letting you see the sway of her hips. Left and right. Just enough to catch the eye. And oh boy, does your eye get caught. You couldn't pull your gaze away now if you wanted to.
She's swiping hands at the door now and flicking the locks. Then she's pulling the blinds shut. A giggle comes from Minju as she spins back to face you. She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and stares right into you.
You feel exposed but, strangely, comfortable. It's so very odd; with no clue as to what happens next. It has your heart pounding out of your chest.
"I thought you were alone tonight because you were upset, but no, I understand it now. You're frustrated. Angry. Stressed. She used you and got away with it."
She kicks off her heels, loses a few centimetres in height, and is walking barefoot across the floor - toward you. Her shoulder rolls to one side and then to the other as her body rises and falls, sashays with the pace of her hips. She can see that you're stuck. You’re rooted to the seat with a dumb look on your face, and yet she saunters ever closer.
“I am a little confused,” you finally say. She's so close that all your senses are lost to the approach of Minju's swaying frame. Her curves, her body, her gentle steps, the way her perfume smells—it's consuming you.
She ignores you and continues, "I’m frustrated too. I'm so frustrated that I'm wasting time in this damn bar. I'm angry at all the auditions that ended up with producers rejecting me. I know exactly what you're feeling. You're angry at the world and everyone in it." Her tone grows raspier. More raw and less stable. "You feel alone. Hung out to dry and in need of attention."
"And you feel the same?"
"Yes, and I'm hungry. Starved of any real satisfaction. You told me I’m going nowhere and I guess it means I need a little attention, too."
You watch her eyes flittering as she looks you up and down. The sultry grin she wears shows she likes what she sees.
"So what are you going to do about it, Minju? What is the solution?" You drop a look down to the soft and slender flesh of her neck.
"No strings. We get this all out of our system." Minju leans in. Lips so close to yours. She stays there. It's torture. "You let all that shit out. Take out your pent-up stress, frustration, anger."
"On you?"
"Exactly. You'll feel better. I will too. Because right now…" Her nose presses against the side of your own. Soft skin. Gentle pressure. "I need it rough."
Her hand lands on your thigh again, rubbing down the denim of your jeans.
The offer is enticing. It has your head swimming with dirty images of everything the two of you could do together, and your cock? Well, that's already twitching in your underwear.
"This isn’t going to help, it will just make things worse."
"Can they really get any worse?"
Minju brings your hand, hers and yours, to her waist. Your thumb feels the soft material of her shirt, and your fingers touch that small patch of skin below it.
"Are we prepared to find out?" Your lips graze gently against hers. The thrill. The electricity in the air.
"I’m ready. More than ready. Just this once, do what you want to do and make me the star of your fantasy. Use me. Make me everything you need." She plants her lips firmly on yours. You both go quiet, muffled by a kiss.
Nothing to do but feel.
Minju's grip tightens on your leg, and yours on her waist. The other hand slides up to her chest, finding her breast, cupping it and feeling her. She opens her mouth. And you follow. Your tongues are colliding and sweeping across one another, eager and desperate.
So you push, guiding the two of you to stand. Minju staggers back, and you're with her every step of the way. Stumbling through a kiss. Hands everywhere. Uncertain. Lost, confused, and passionate. It's an incoherent tumble that takes you both crashing through chairs, pushing them aside until you hit something sturdy. Minju's ass slams against the pool table and she grunts into your mouth.
Her lips drag away and she smiles. "Fuck me."
You grab her by the hips, lifting her onto the pool table.
"I need to see the big cock that’s got Wony all worked up. She wouldn’t settle for anything disappointing." She's fumbling at your waist, struggling with the buckle of your jeans.
"This what you want?" Your words vibrate through her. And when you take a handful of her hair and tug, there's a long, soft, desperate sigh from Minju's parted lips.
"Use me. Abuse me." Her fumbling finally succeeds and the waist of your trousers slackens. "I know how I look, but don't worry, you're not going to break me."
She's pushing at your trousers, your boxers, and when that stiff dick pops out, her smile spreads into a big, stupid grin. It's not an unattractive expression—not really. It just tells the truth. She is excited. 
It’s as clear as day that you are too. You’re rock hard, stiff as hell, ready to fuck, and this, this will give you the chance to let it all out. All of it.
"Perfect." Minju grabs your cock in both hands, still warm, throbbing, and strong. "Just look at this thing."
You pull on her hair again, harder, until she breaks away from you, until she gives way—losing the grip on your cock and falling back on the table. And now you slow as if to savour the moment as you’re sliding your fingers under the waist of her trousers. Not often you get afforded a measure of control.
"C’mon, please, don't be gentle," Minju moans out through gritted teeth. The desperation is painted on her face and that’s the difference here: while a girl like Wonyoung wouldn’t let you go slow, Minju is the type of girl who makes you not want to go slow.
So you pull at the trousers of the girl sprawling out in front of you, tearing the button from the fabric, yanking them open and pulling them down those long, slender legs. The flesh is soft. And to touch, so smooth and light. Minju's breathing picks up—becoming shorter and deeper with each touch to her sensitive skin.
"I might leave marks."
Minju stares you down, hands already massaging over her panties. "I hope you will."
The thought is intoxicating, so much more so than the alcohol in your blood, as your hands paw over her legs; you knead soft skin with a kind of aggression you haven't felt before.
Minju is a rare girl.
Beautiful. And by definition, beautiful women have seen it all before.
But her?
The look she gives? Like no man has ever fully satisfied the itch within her. It's deep-set hunger. The kind that she chases endlessly for.
This hunger makes people behave stupidly, careless and forgetful of the consequences. And maybe you know that all too well but even still it's a risk worth taking. Every choice has led you here and maybe that is your solace, that it's not all downhill from here.
And as your hands reach her small satin panties, the warmth embraces you, and the urge within you grows. You hook your fingers inside and draw the panties aside to expose the tight pink flesh of Minju's cunt.
Not that you would expect anything else, but she is clean-shaven. So smooth. Not a single blemish. This is a girl who kept herself neat and pristine, and yet from her mouth spills utter filth, "just look at how wet this pussy is for you."
She's running her fingers between her lips, showing you everything she has to offer between her legs, showing you where she expects you dick will get put to use.
"This tight fucking cunt can take everything your thick cock has to give."
"Minju, you’re so..." You're standing over her, her legs spread wide beside you, blazer falling from her shoulders leaving nothing covering her but that low-cut top.
Minju stares right at you, eyes fixed, wide and eager, her chest heaves with every deepening breath she takes in. She's wild, reaching for you with one hand, stretching to hold you and then pulling at your shirt to draw you in.
"I'm so needy. Please fuck me." She's whining through closed lips as her other hand slips away from her pussy and glides over her taut abs and leaving her cunt ready to be used. She wants it, desperately, and you're drawing it out. Making it build inside her, and you hold your cock in your hand.
You're stroking, and she's watching. And for all her strain to pull at your shirt, to pull you into her, you hold back. You hold just long enough. Enough for her arm to fall limp. Enough for her to almost give in. "Please..." she trails off with a whimper.
You push the head of your stiff cock against her cunt—against her clit. Your hips roll as you run the entire underside of your cock between her lips. She gasps and breathes deeply. She's holding it all the while. All the time it takes for you to draw your cock back, so the tip is right there. Ready.
She let's go as you do. The air escapes her lungs with a sharp squeal. You let your cock sink in. Slow but persistent, you push further and further, feeling her tensing. Then the clench and tightness overwhelms. She gasps and squirms, wriggles beneath you and her nails scratch at the fabric of the table beneath her.
You push again, sinking your cock as far as you can through her wet hole.
There's a loud snap and squeal from Minju. Pretty girl broke a nail. It flew off somewhere across the room, such is her grip onto the table. "Fuck. So fucking full," she manages, barely. It's more the noise you force from her than any actual communication.
You draw your hips back and she's quick to encourage you, "again," she says.
Your hips are driving forward again, pushing every last centimetre back through her.
Minju whimpers. There's this short, sweet purr from deep within her. You feel her stretch, she moves a little, adjusting herself atop the pool table. There's a warmth that swells, tightens, and pulsates. And you feel the breath come easier. It leaves her as though her body has settled to a kind of ease and pleasure, some form of satisfaction.
You refuse to let her rest. It's not what she would want.
It's not what you want.
You run your hands along her inner thighs, past her knees until you finally reach her ankles and pull them together and hold them aloft. You lift and pull her ass up slightly from the table. She's suspended now while you fuck into her.
The shake of her small frame is completely erotic. Watching her ass and thighs jiggle as you fuck into her. That plump little ass taking slap after slap from your hips.
Her perfect skin reddens as her moans louden the longer you last. There are high-pitched squeals and low and gritty growls. They bounce around the empty bar, reverberating and multiplying—echoing back louder than before.
"Harder." She thinks she can take more. Look, Wonyoung was demanding, she wanted to control everything and push your limits, but Minju? Minju is whole different type of demanding. She's welcoming everything you have with every fibre of her being. Her pussy so eagerly taking it all, and it just seems like no matter what limit you push past, or the more Minju takes, the more she craves.
You pull her legs to you, calves on your shoulders, feet in the air, and your hands move firmly onto her hips. You steady her—ready her. Your grip bruises the tender skin (hey, it's what she wants) and then you fuck her like your life depends on it. Your cock pumping inside with reckless abandon.
"Keep going! Just like that! Fuck!" her voice rises over the rhythm of your low grunts, and the crack of your hips slapping against her ass.
Minju's face twists, red and flushed. She's so tense. Muscles tight around the neck and her teeth buried in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Her voice is low and raw, growling, as she pleads for more with words you can't pretend to understand. It's not eloquent or graceful... In fact, it's that incoherence that makes this all the better—so utterly unbothered, unconcerned with anything other than being thoroughly used, fucked and defiled.
She has that hungry glaze in her eyes when you look down upon her, a girl being exactly the kind of filthy thing she promised to be. And those eyes only draw you in, you're pushing over her, folding her legs further against her body until she's truly helpless. Pinned to the table. Bent in two. No ability, nor want, to stop you from dominating her.
"I'm gonna—" she tries to speak until you press down, right into her. She squeezes your cock inside that tight, creaming hole. Then she whines, loud.
So loud.
Her back would arch high if it could. But she can't break free. You have her completely immobilized with your upper bodyweight. And fuck does she love every second of it. She's got handfuls of her shirt, pulling it, clutching, writhing. Ecstasy courses through her and eyes roll.
And now she's rolling, you're turning her. Ankles in your hands, you have pulled out and you're flipping her onto her front, face down into the table. She’s just… accepting it. Not an ounce of fight in her. Not even a word. Just a throaty moan.
"Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” you’re ordering, “give me your hands.” 
She reaches her arms back over her subdued body and lets you take her delicate wrists.
She submits.
Just lying there prone, her delicate body against the table, with that tight little ass perched on the edge of it, and that skimpy underwear still pushed aside for her throbbing cunt. Those slender legs left hanging either side of you. And go on, you're allowed to think it in the simplest of terms; Minju is sexy. In a word, that's it. Sexy. And yet, the reality is there's so much more you can say. Every soft curve of her toned body is alluring, she is magnetic and inviting, and that cute face peering over her shoulder, long hair spilled all behind it. All the words in the world couldn't do justice to describe her—couldn't properly capture the image.
"What are you going to do to me, daddy?" Oh, she says it so seamlessly, slips it in like it's been on her lips for a while - floating in the atmosphere since you took control. And now that it's finally landed, you feel its weight. It has her voice different; smokey and dripping with sex. And it hits you straight between your legs. 
She licks her lips and tests it out again, just for good measure: "what does daddy think I deserve?" 
One hand holding her wrists against the small of her back, another gripping her hip. Her legs sway lazily, unable to reach the floor. Helplessly dangling, waiting for her fate. And you're not a man to disappoint a girl like Minju.
"I'm going to use the needy little slut in front of me," you say as the head of your stiff cock probes at her cunt, slipping between her wet lips and sliding against her swollen clit. Teasing her. 
You draw it back up again and pushing apart her ass cheeks with the length of your cock. Slipping under the thin fabric of her soaked panties.
She bites her lower lip and whimpers through her teeth. The head of your wet cock slides against her tight asshole, and her hips twitch back. "Whatever you need, take it from me." She means that. There's yearning in every word. The hunger and desire in her voice growing thicker.
You push against her, cock sandwiched between her cheeks, pushing your weight down and pressing her against the table. Her eyes close for a moment, her fingers curl into her palms.
"Yes. Fuck," Minju's desperate encouragement spills through clenched teeth.
You pull back your cock and replace it with your thumb, sliding your hand over her ass and slipping it against her puckered hole.
"Please da—" You slip the tip of your thumb just inside her ass and hold it there while she holds her breath. 
Anticipation— 
Waiting— 
Knowing what's coming next. 
Minju is completely still as you drive your cock into her cunt again. Sinking yourself in so deep—balls deep. Her hands become tight fists and her whole body is shaking. You withdraw and plunge again, and she hisses, breathing from the bottom of her lungs, ragged and shallow, and fighting to speak.
"I'm a dirty, needy, little slut and you’re going to use me—"
You spit at her spread ass, right onto your thumb, and use it to dig a little deeper. "What are you?" your question provokes an instant answer,
"I'm a horny slut. I'm a fuck-hole. That's what I am."
As if it's a reward for her honesty, you fuck her a little harder. Push your thumb a little deeper. She smiles through a howl of ecstasy, the sound swelling into the room.
"Tell me again," you command with another pump of your hips, stretching her even more with your thumb.
Her words crackle, dying in her throat with each impact of your hips, "I'm just a dumb girl who needs to be full of cum."
No sane man would refuse it. Not you, not anyone. Definitely not you at all. You couldn't resist any part of her, but especially not that filthy demand. Especially not with how you felt watching those gorgeous fucking curves ripple every time your hips slapped against her ass.
It's all so easy, how you continue, keeping pace. Thumb deep in her ass. Balls smacking against her soaked pussy with every thrust. It's a pleasure all too overwhelming—a thrill, a sensation, a powerful sense of utter fucking satisfaction and all-consuming desire—an erotic overflow inundates, a swell, an ever-growing crest inside your balls.
"Minju. I'm. Gonna—"
"Cum in me? Please." She's the hallmark of innocence-gone-wrong; the way such words roll off her tongue with playful ease. And she knows all the right ones. The ones that she knows will bring all the right reactions. To speak to you on a primal level. She's at it again, cutting into you, "Inside— Inside me."
Cutting through you like the blade of a knife, right to your core and you obey—fuck.
"Daddy please."
You're incensed.
Dogged with the pounding you're giving her, you have lost control of just how deep you have your thumb in her ass. This is so Indecent. Obscene, even. For you, or for anyone, to just... enjoy something like this. Your body is roaring with lust as her ass and cunt both squeeze on you, clamping you as you drive yourself to the brink.
"I wanna... feel your hot load," her voice comes shaking through the unabated pounding you're inflicting. "Fill me please," she's begging and it sounds a little clearer now, stronger, a little louder, no doubt because she knows it's almost done.
You tug at her wrists, pulling her arms back and her body away from the table. Her head hangs forward beneath a wave of hair. Face covered by sweat streaks across those pretty sculpted features.
"Please, I'll be a good girl and take every drop. All the fucking cum that daddy has. Make me your stupid dirty little slut," she compels, then yelps with every new slam and stroke of the stiff cock being buried into her again and again.
That tight asshole, and that cock-hugging pussy. All the relentless slamming that you have done and will do. All the desires, with the pent-up frustration, the rage and anger and tension that has built up—you release it. Everything goes as you send your load rushing through your cock to paint her insides.
Pushing everything you have in. Pumping. Driving hard.
Her squeals are like music to the soul. Relief and rapture are overflowing. And fuck. What a ride. What a rush. You pump her full until she's gasping for air, struggling in your grasp and making sure to moan each and every dirty word into the atmosphere as she fights to hold on. What a thrill. And as the two of you hit the limits of physical exhaustion and exhilaration, you pull back. Letting the girl lay there, spent, and filled, on the pool table.
Used.
Satisfied.
Sullied.
Minju to you, today, is a feeling of freedom. Fulfilment. Absolution. As she lay limp, arms out, legs hanging, hair draped over her face and pooling on the table—a girl well fucked and on display. She is satisfaction. And she is dripping with your cum.
She slips her fingers under her panties. That shrivelled piece of fabric that clings, or struggles to. Now she pushes them off her hips and they tumble over her feet.
When this beautiful girl speaks her voice has the distinct scratch of someone whose lungs have had the oxygen stolen from them, her throat sore with moaning, "I need more."
She moves to her back and you can only watch in amazement as she turns to you with that flush face. One of her small, delicate hands falling between her legs and her dainty fingers tracing around her cunt—through her pink folds, and dousing them in your leaking cum.
There's a knock at the door. It rattles in the frame. "Open up!" It's the voice of the young man seeking an afternoon drink. You think that, luckily, hopefully, between the blinds, the posters and the neon lights in the windows along with the dim lighting, he can't see in.
"Fuck off!" Minju shouts. Her chest is heaving, and there are the gentle lulls of a giggle welling in her throat.
You notice she hasn't moved the fingers away from her swollen and sticky cunt. There's a building cackle, almost as if she is going to fall into hysterics.
"Let me in! You should be open!"
"I said fuck off!" Minju's climbing from the table with a wild smile on her face. Cum is trailing from her cunt, pooling, oozing, dripping down her thigh, down her leg. Her tongue slides over her lips, she's eying you up like a tiger.
"I want to ride your thick cock." She's breathing the words out heavy and finally pulling that shirt over her head. Small round breasts exposed. Stiff dark nipples. Hard and taught. That bare torso. Tight and tone. Firm and solid. Every muscle defined under glistening, sweaty skin.
She pushes herself against you until you push between a pair of stools and your ass plants against the bar. "You made me a dirty girl, and now I can't stop."
You find her strength a little unnerving, the way seems so unphased and determined. She's running on pure adrenaline. It's hot, sure, a kind of raw passion is certainly not without appeal, but also maybe a touch too overpowering. The way that she grabs at you, a touch forceful, and the way you come together is perhaps too rough and less than elegant.
So unkempt, un-romantic, yet so insanely gratifying as her soft skin finds yours.
You take her body in your arms, lips on one another, exploring mouths with tongues. Grasping the round cheek of her ass as she lifts her left thigh up to your waist. Hand trailing between the two of you and then grabbing a firm hold of your cock, guiding the thing back to her pussy—and not letting go.
This is it. This is where she belongs.
It’s all so natural for her to be on the end of your cock, so much so that she can casually pull away from the kiss to switch her focus to finding a drink on the bar behind you. She’s taking a drink of it now and some of it spills from the corner of her mouth.There is something undignified in that, but utterly perfect nonetheless.
She's grinding against you now, swirling her hips and cooing like a little kitten, as your hands move over her ass and that silken smooth back.
Minju sets the empty glass back down on the bar, and pulls back to meet your eyes. She presses a finger to her tongue, her eyes gleaming and focused solely on you, as she guides a small, playful trail of drool to run over her glistening tits. "Fuck," she breathes through a grin, taking both her hands and smoothing that drool over her chest.
Another knock at the door. Another fist pounded into its frame.
All these fucking interruptions.
"Ugh! Fuck this. Come on, follow me." And before you know it, she's guiding you across the room. "I'm going to ride you until I can't walk. Until I'm so sore that every step will remind me what it felt like to have you deep inside me."
Your phone rings, on the floor in the pocket of your trousers. Who would call right now? Just as one interruption finally concedes at the door, another emerges.
Minju bends to fish it out of your trousers. Her little ass, one cheek marred with a handprint from your grasp, is so close you could bend forward and eat it (any other time, you would.) but it's not that which intrigues you the most. When she rises, slowly, your phone is in her grasp, screen displaying Wonyoung's name.
"This should be fun," Minju chuckles to herself. She swipes the answer button and raises the device to her ear. "Hello?"
Minju reaches out to hold your hand and pulls you toward the staff only door. "Sorry, he's a little busy right now," she says as she walks through the door with you in tow. Her head pivots. Minju stares, eyes boring deep into yours. That sultry expression. The spark of desire igniting all over again.
Minju turns on her heel, letting you go and taking a step back. Thin fingers stroke over her cum-soaked thigh, up and along her wet lips, higher and past her flat stomach, sliding between her firm tits. "He is really busy."
She points at the couch in the break room, gesturing you to sit. You oblige, a little nervous about the turn of events. She's rubbing at her perky little tits as she speaks, "do you want me to take a message?"
"Minju..." you say with warning, ready to take the phone off her. But it's so hard to ignore how utterly sexy she is, and your hand starts to stroke along your shaft. She turns her body and poses, looking over her shoulder to you, and she grins. Minju affords you all the time you need to admire her while she listens to the ramblings of Wonyoung through your phone.
Minju steps toward you, looking down at you. "You need to speak to him?" She rests a hand on your shoulder, and then she clambers over you, straddles you. Her leaking cunt right above your cock. She licks her lips and rubs her slick pussy over your stiff dick, eyes focused on you, head tilted down. "Give me one second."
She holds the phone against her collar and shifts above you, resting the tip of your cock against her hole.
"Minju, let me—"
She sinks onto your cock. 
Inch by pleasurable inch, she takes you. Minju rocks forward and adjusts to settle on the length of your rod. Fully hilted and stuffed. She's a slick sheath of velvet on your stiff rod and you realise then just how perfectly she fits on you. You bite your tongue, trying to not make a noise so you don't alert the woman on the other end of the phone. Minju, however, is careless, and she lets out a soft moan as she shifts on you, readying herself.
Cum still seeps out of her cunt and down your shaft—your own and hers in some messy cocktail. The smell is sharp but unmistakable. It hangs in the air as the unmistakable evidence of what has happened and what will happen again. It’s so potent; invigorating and exciting. A reminder of everything and more, as if you would ever forget it—as if you could ever forget what she has become for you.
Minju draws the phone back to her face and, with a cocky smirk parting her lips, she speaks again, her voice breathy and full of lust. 
"He's in a bit of a tight spot right now." She throws you a wink and continues, "give him ten—wait, no—give him fifteen minutes and whatever is left of him is all yours."
There's the sound of a voice coming through the phone, so unmistakably Wonyoung's but you can't make a word of it out. There's another sound, one much dirtier, that fills the air between the two of you. The soft squelching as Minju rocks and rotates those full hips on you.
"Sorry, what was that?" Minju is stifling a giggle and not-really trying to keep the naughtiness of the situation in check. "Yeah, Wonyoung,you’re right. It's me, Minju," she purrs, biting her lip as her eyes fix on you. Then her tongue flits from her lips, sweeping from left to right.
‘It's me, Minju.’
Look, it’s not really a surprise that they know each other well. It was always a possibility that Minju had just heard of Wonyoung but had never really been acquainted. Thinking back, however, the strength of her reaction to the girl’s name should have told you everything. The truth is now ever so clear. 
Not that Minju is going to let you process it. She will not allow you to focus on anything other than the caress of her pussy over your sensitive cock. She's elegant with the movements of her hips—the motions subtle and slow. Her pace is sinful. She's running her tongue over her teeth and staring at you, enjoying the quiet grunts that rattle from your throat.
"He showed up in—" Her breath hitches and she catches a moan in her throat before it escapes. "In the bar, drinking alone."
There's a gasp, then another as she strokes her hands through the locks of your hair. "Yeah. He was doing that." She's laughing under her breath and looking you up and down. "That thing with his hand, yeah, it's cute."
“What? No. I wouldn’t.” You’re getting half a conversation and none of it makes any sense.
She reaches out her hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing the line of your jaw and her body leaning in. "He's got a sexy jaw line," she admits and then picks up the speed of her movement. 
Her hand slides down your neck and presses into your collar. "His body?" Minju hums as her hips are churning; her body is rolling and her abs are flexing. "Yeah, I think so too."
Minju's back arches and her tiny tits bounce as her movement changes, bouncing rhythmically on your cock. She's adjusting and getting more comfortable on you. As the seconds pass, she's getting rougher and moving ever faster. 
Fuck.
"Well, he's drunk, so it's no surprise."
It's been no end of strange situations over the past couple of months, but this may well be the strangest yet. The girls are having a friendly conversation, but one is on top of a cock that's dripping with her mess.You're still trying to piece it together. They're friends—that much is clear. But there's still so many questions unasked: How? Since when? And why are they having their catch up right fucking now?
Her delicate frame moves fast now and the rise and fall of her chest growing sharper leading to short breaths.
"Mhm," she utters, keeping her voice low and words at a premium. "N—No we aren't." To give her credit, she's actually very good at sounding natural. In some twisted way, it's one hell of an audition for how talented of actress she can actually be. 
But that image comes crumbling down before your eyes.
Just for a moment, the picture freezes. Her mouth is half-open, eyes wide. She bites down on her lip, silencing herself, and then she drops her hand from her ear. She's hitting her fist, clenched around the phone, against her thigh repeatedly as she fights against her own body. There's another choked grunt as she is being pushed ever so close to the edge.
She draws the phone to her face again, breathing in deep and staring at you with those glossy eyes scanning all across your body, and she swallows. 
"We aren't fucking," Minju denies, as your hands creep up from her slender thighs, sliding over those beautiful taut hips, gripping tight and helping pull her back and forth. It's clear, from the way she bites down on her bottom lip, the subtle trembling of her chin, she's hanging on by a thread, ready to lose it at any second.
"No. Don't—" Minju holds the phone out, and she’s looking at it—you can see it too—Wonyoung has just ended the call. "Ah fuck it." Minju throws the phone down on the couch.
She looks at you with a face that's a little lost in thought, considering things unknown to you. All while her body is on auto-pilot, still fucking down onto you. 
After a moment, her face changes, an expression of indifference, of calmness. She smiles a little and rests both of her hands on your shoulders. Staring deep into your eyes, she grows ever more serious with a tinge of intent. She shifts from auto-pilot to manual, tightening the grip with her legs and slowing the pace, but fucking you harder.
Minju rides the ridge of your cock. Your whole length is dragged up and down her insides, setting every inch of you on fire. She moans every time she slams onto you. 
Every time. 
She's falling further apart in front of you—coming completely undone. Eyes rolling and biting that lip again. Hips shifting in all kinds of directions. A cacophony of beautiful grunting sounds that flood the room.
Minju is a woman derailed by pleasure.
"God. Your cock— Your cock is—" She's struggling now and you're only going to make it worse. Using the hands on her hips, you buck yourself up into her, bringing yourself a fraction closer each time. 
"The things this cock— the things you— fuck." Minju has no power to string any kind of sentences together, no matter how many words you force from her. They grow less and less like words you can understand until all that remains are these loud and unashamed gasps. 
Gasp after sharp and unstoppable gasp.
The rush of exhilaration courses through her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels it. All over. It's written on her face, in the way that she moves and in the look in her eyes. A look like that is a hard thing to fake, even for her—there's nothing else like it. Minju is cumming all over your cock and every bit of it is evident in every tense muscle, the quiver in the corner of her mouth, the sheen across her brow, the mist in her eyes as she blinks lazily and tries not to be overcome, overawed, with emotion and all the intense sensations, one wave after another, rippling through her.
You're just about there again too. You try to warn her, but you're fucking up into her with so much energy that you're not sure if the words ever left your mouth. But she knows it, somehow, because she has renewed aggression in her. Even through her orgasm, she's bouncing on your cock with such ferocity. Minju takes hold of your head and draws you into her. Nose to nose. Foreheads touch. "Cum in me again."
They're four of the best words she could have said.
She rides you faster still as you pump rope after hot rope into her cunt, your entire length filling her already overflowing cunt. You cum so hard inside her that the world seems to distort, twist, and wane.
"Yes! Yes!" she shouts in a whisper—her voice stolen by pleasure. "Fill my little pussy."
And with every last ounce of strength you have, you continue. Bucking into her, driving deeper with the last throes of your second load. It's too much. It's beyond pleasure and into pain now, as you have nothing left to give her.
You squeeze at her hips and waist, holding her down and doing everything you can to stop her fucking you.
You're panting. Tired. Done.
Done.
Minju raises herself just enough to slip that ruined and swollen cockhead from the depth of her. You watch as your combined fluids flow out of her onto your leg.
All that filth, a dirty combination of the two of you. Two loads of your cum drained into that one pretty pussy.
Minju is stroking a hand up your stomach, your chest, along your neck and jawline. Across your face and to your chin, so slowly, as if memorising your features.
You watch her body, so fucking perfect, flexing and trembling still and her breasts heave beneath sweat and exertion. Her breath is so ragged that a chuckle emerges between the hard, deep inhales and exhales. She's sweating, perspiration painting her body and strands of long hair matted to her head. So beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.
She looks into your eyes, studying, thinking. "You feel better now," her voice has returned to the softness of before, low and sultry. "Don't you?"
With a smile, your hands move again, wandering further up. They snake their way around her slender waist. There's something strange, something new, about how they explore her—before, you were quick to set them and demand control. But not now. Now, it's tender and grateful and you have a slow, searching rhythm to the touches that skim the skin across her skin. 
"Yeah." It's honest. You do. She has done her magic, she has restored the balance, and the release has cleared a space within the self, within the mind. You stare back into her gaze, "thank you."
"No." Minju brings her head forward, her face almost colliding with yours. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed, I really—" She bites down on her lips and hesitates. She pauses for a second before she begins to move herself off you. Standing up straight, wobbling for a moment on the spot before stepping off and the sticky remains of your fucking cling to her inner thighs, glistening on the flesh, thick and trailing down from her hole.
She stares at you for a moment in some profound silence. You sit on the couch, on that musty old fabric, fully spent and staring. She's searching for something, eyes drifting over the room until it catches her eye, and she heads right for it.
You find the strength to stand and as you do, you’re still watching the sway of her body—noticing each bounce of her perfectly formed butt. Your eyes linger, appreciating the body that was given to you, enjoyed by you, and that gave so much to you. Your strength slowly builds from within, your legs are sore, your stomach and core are aching, your lungs feel crushed.
She's fumbling around on the table for something, she's leaning over slightly, her thighs pressed together. She wears sex like a crown—the pride, confidence, and accomplishment manifesting in her natural glow. Minju radiates. There's always something so electric about a woman in the post coital haze.
"You smoke?" she asks.
"No."
"You should," she says as she turns, fishing one out of the pack and perching herself on the edge of the table, crossing over her legs. "Makes you less nervous. You might need it."
There's an elegance in the way she slips the filter between her lips. An attractiveness in the casual way that she places the box down. With practiced poise, she flicks her wrist with lighter in hand so it flips open and her thumb runs against the sparkwheel. Once, twice, and on the third go the light takes and the flame holds steady. Minju lights the end of the cigarette and leans in, taking a deep draw and holding it.
It's mesmerising to watch. The way her mouth closes around the stick, how the soft glow dances upon her features. A darkness in the hollows of her cheeks as the smoke fills within, while she flicks the lighter back closed and slides it on the table.
Minju tilts her head back as her lungs empty, billows and tendrils escape into the room.
In the silence, you've had some realisation.
Minju is cool.
Like— really cool.
So you stand naked, facing her, in the breakroom of the bar she... works in? Owns? Hell, you don't even know that. Doesn't matter. And you finally ask her, "how do you know Wonyoung?"
For a long moment she just smiles, blowing smoke towards you, teasing with silence.
"We go way back," she says, and that is hardly the complete answer that you've hoped for. 
Eventually, she offers more. "High school. We were friends." Minju studies the cigarette, eyeing the burning stub. "Guess you could say we were closer than that. Fuck. If not for—"
Silence.
And yet you wait.
"Well, there was this boy," she continues eventually, offering a soft and resigned smile. "My crush, and then my boyfriend. He was my first. First kiss, first date. First—" Minju looks over to the wall and inhales hard on the cigarette again. She breathes in slowly and you watch the small ember dance, the edges turning amber and glowing bright before she brings the cigarette down and flicks ash in the tray.
"What happened?" you ask, taking a seat alongside her on the table, pushing a cup aside to make space. It's not exactly hygienic, but nothing the two of you just did was.
"Wonyoung happened. Right before we left school, he left me for her and he thought he had a chance, but, well, you know Wonyoung. She's unattainable."
"You blame her?"
"Fuck no. But it didn't exactly bring us closer. He left me for her, she rejected him. What a mess."
There is always something when Wonyoung is in the picture, a messy little tangled web, something hidden behind those silky smiles. She's the reason for many lost loves and many lonely nights. You take a pause to appreciate that fact—to see what's really at the core. She’s the common denominator. Wonyoung—the arrogant heartbreaker.
"So what was all that about? On the phone?" you ask, trying to make some sense of it all.
Minju laughs aloud, tilting her head back and blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. She holds her cigarette between her slim fingers and rests her other hand on your thigh. "I wanted to play with her a little. I wanted her to know. Because well, and no offense, but you’re one of her possessions. She basically owns you. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda hot, but I wanted to see how she would react."
"So you teased her."
"Pretty much."
She laughs a little. There is some spark in her eye, born out of childish fun.
"Don't think she cares," you shrug.
You both turn toward the door that leads back into the bar. You both heard it. Out there. The knock against the front door of the bar.
Minju turns to you, crushing her cigarette into the ashtray beside her. There's a smirk on her lips and amusement in her eyes. In that look alone, there's a lot to unpack; there's an air of knowing, a glimmer of deviousness, and something else lurking beneath the surface.
"Then why is she knocking on the door?"
Next Part
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puckbunnyera · 7 months
Text
Just Friends | Luke Hughes
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• ──────────────♡────────────── •
pairing: luke hughes x reader genre: fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: none summary: maybe you were never really just friends
notes: it's been less than 24 hours since i posted my first fic and i've already received a few asks for a part 2 so here it is. i'll link the first part here. thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read it, like it, reblog it, etc. i'm always really nervous to post my own writing so any type of interaction with it feels good to see.
also, i know the timelines of the games played in both fics don't align with the actual events in real time but we are just going to ignore that for the sake of the plot.
• ──────────────♡────────────── •
I sigh as I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, doing one last fit check before Luke arrives. I'm nervous. I come to this realization as I smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in my shirt. Why? I couldn't tell you. It's been almost two months since the night I met Luke, and we've talked and texted almost every day since. We've even hung out multiple times since then, but I always seem to get all nervous and jittery anytime he presents the offer. My thoughts start to consume me to the point that I'm almost tempted to text him and ask for a rain check, but before I can fall too deeply into them, my attention is stolen by the two girls lying on my bed behind me.
"I still can't believe you're dating The Luke Hughes." One of my friends says causing me to turn my back towards the mirror to look at her.
"We aren't dating." I scoff. "We're-"
"Right, you're 'just friends'." My other friend interrupts, rolling her eyes and using her fingers to make air quotes as she says the words.
"We are." I shrug, moving to sit in my vanity chair so I can put on my shoes.
"You don't have to believe us if you don't want to, but he totally has the hots for you."
"It's so obvious. Any time he has the chance to get away from his job, he's calling, texting, or coming to see you. Even if it's only for a short amount of time. Those aren't typical behaviors of a guy who wants to be 'just friends'."
They continue to go on and on as if they're trying to convince a jury that they're innocent of a crime. The sound of my phone dinging from beside me on the table finally brings their rambling to an end. I pick up to find a text from Luke.
From Luke🏒: i'm here
To Luke🏒: omw
"I would love to stay and continue this conversation," I smile sarcastically as I stand up, "But my friend is waiting for me downstairs." I make sure to add extra emphasis on the word friend.
They both giggle and bid their goodbyes as I walk out of the room. When I make it downstairs to the lobby of my apartment building, Luke, in all of his handsome glory, is waiting patiently by the door.
"Ready to go?" He questions once I'm standing in front of him. I nod in confirmation and he opens the door for us, placing a gentle hand on my back to lead me out.
"What's the plan for today?" I ask once we're settled into the car.
"I need to drop off a couple of things at the dry cleaners since my brother forgot to do it," He gestures to the items in his backseat. "But then I figured we could go to dinner, catch a movie, and then maybe grab some dessert before I take you home."
"Sounds good!" I reply with a smile, with which he returns one of his own before putting the car in drive and pulling away from my apartment building.
Things are going well today. Really well. We're having fun and Luke is being as sweet as always. However, that's the only problem. Despite the stance I took in the argument with my friends, I can't help but let their words get to me. The whole evening, I've been reading too deeply into every little thing he does. Every door he holds open for me, every chair he pulls out for me, every accidental brush of our hands when we walk side-by-side. I'm trying not to let it show, but when Luke's voice rattles my thoughts and pulls me back down to Earth, I know I'm failing.
"Are you okay?" He asks as we sit in the car, waiting for the red light to turn green. "You've been pretty quiet today."
"Really?" I ask, genuinely confused because I hadn't noticed that change in my behavior. When he responds with a solemn nod, guilt rises in my chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was. It has nothing to do with you." Yet it has everything to do with him.
"Did something happen?" He pushes further.
"No, just have a lot on my mind with work and all, but I'm okay. Promise." I give him a soft smile in hopes that it will give him enough reassurance to drop the conversation. Thankfully he does, but the look in his eyes shows clearly that he doesn't believe me. "So my friends were telling me that you have a home game coming up in a couple of days against your oldest brother's team. Are you excited?" I change the subject quickly.
"Yeah," He nods, a smile gracing his features. "My parents are gonna be in town to watch us face off against each other. All three Hughes brothers on the same ice. I'm hoping it will be as exciting as everyone and the media are making it seem." He chuckles. "I'm also just really excited to see Quinn. We haven't gotten to see each other much since I moved out to Jersey and the season started. I think it'll be nice to have us all back together again, even if it's just for a couple of days."
"I bet it will be."
"I'm glad you brought this up because I've been meaning to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"Would you maybe want to come to the game?"
"Do you want me to come?" I'm praying the hopeful look in my eyes isn't obvious.
"Yeah," He nods. "I really do."
"Then I'll be there." I assure him. "The girls were talking about purchasing tickets anyways, so I'll tell them to make it three tickets instead of just the two."
"Don't worry about it. I got it covered."
"Luke, you don't have to do that." I shake my head, readying myself to argue.
"I know I don't have to, but I want to." The look he gives me makes me forget any rebuttal I had previously prepared. "Plus, I already got the tickets and the seating arrangements set up."
"And you just knew I was gonna say yes?" I reply, crossing my arms.
"No, but I was hoping you would."
"I guess some dreams really do come true." I joke.
"I guess so."
We continue to talk and joke around for the remainder of the drive. It goes by a little too quickly though, because before I know it, he's putting the car in park in front of my building. Being the gentleman that he is, he walks me all the way up to my apartment door. It's not until I have unlocked and opened the door that he finally says goodnight, placing a soft peck on my cheek before walking away. Once he has disappeared into the elevator and I'm sure he's gone, I close and lock the door.
As I'm getting ready for bed, I become aware of the slight ache in my cheeks from smiling so much. As soon as my head hits my pillow, the realization dawns on me. I am in love with Luke Hughes.
• ───────────────────────────── •
I'm still in shock at the fact that he really went all out with the tickets. My friends seem to be as well considering that they still haven't managed to pick their jaws up off the floor yet. Never in my life would I have ever expected to be seated in one of the arena's luxury suites. I feel a little bad the more I dwell on it. There are more deserving fans that could be sitting here, yet some girl who knew nothing about the sport two months ago had them handed to her at no cost.
"Hi, you must be Y/N." An unfamiliar woman's voice pulls me from my pity-party.
"Oh, hi." I greet her as I turn in her direction.
"I'm Luke's mom, Ellen." She smiles and pulls me into a quick but gentle embrace. "And this is my husband, Jim." She gestures to the man beside her.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He offers a hand for me to shake.
"You as well." I accept it before introducing them to my two friends, who are not-so-discreetly eavesdropping on the conversation.
We all find a seat and fall into casual conversation. Just getting to know each other and talking about this, that, and the other. Once the teams begin to make their way onto the ice, our attentions shift away from each other and onto the players.
Having admitted to my lack of knowledge of the sport before the game started, Jim and Ellen kindly explained the game to me so I would know what is going on. By the end of the first period, I'm clued in enough that I don't need it anymore and eventually, I become just as immersed in the game as the rest of them are.
It's in the second period that Luke scores a goal and we all stand up, cheering loudly with the crowd. The excitement is so high that I don't even shy away when Ellen happily pulls me into a tight hug before pulling away and continuing to cheer for her youngest son. Third period seems to go by in a flash and then the game is ending with a 6-5 win for the Devils, both Jack and Luke having contributed to the score with goals of their own.
Once the final buzzer goes off, my friends bid their farewells before heading out to go home. However, I hang back with Ellen and Jim upon the request of Luke. I follow the two down from the suite until we make it to where the locker rooms are located, waiting in the hall for the three brothers to emerge. We stand around conversing for about ten or so minutes before the men finally make their appearances.
They all embrace and greet each other as I stand back and watch with a smile. They really are a beautiful family. Once they all break away, Luke turns his attention towards me. He steps forward and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms.
"Congratulations." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, his wrapped around my waist.
"Thank you." I can hear the smile in his voice.
Time escapes me as I stand in his arms. I'm not even sure how long we've been holding onto each other. It's his brother's voice that finally has us separating.
"You must be the infamous Y/N." Quinn steps up, a smug grin on his face. "I've heard so much about you."
"I've heard a lot about you as well," I respond politely, despite the blush I'm sure I'm sporting due to his teasing tone. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Will you be joining us for dinner?" Ellen asks from where she stands, now next to Quinn.
"Oh, um," I look to Luke for an answer. He nods, a pleading look in his eyes. "Yes, I would love to." I finally reply.
With that being said, we all begin to exit the arena and head to the parking lot. We're almost to the vehicles when Luke gently grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. Once his family is out of earshot, he begins to speak.
"This might seem random and sudden, but I've been thinking about it for a while." He starts, looking away nervously and lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "And feel free to say no because I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes just because I'm asking. Or if you feel like you need time to think it over, feel free to take all of the time you need. Actually, maybe I-"
"Luke," I say his name softly, placing my hands on his reddening cheeks and forcing his gaze back to mine. His rambling comes to a halt. "Breathe."
"Sorry." He inhales deeply before releasing his breath. "I was wondering, would you be my girlfriend?"
It's my turn to take a deep breath. Out of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting this. I take a moment to gather my thoughts as a smile begins to pull at my lips.
"I would love to." I nod, my smile growing larger resulting in his own.
"Well," He takes a step closer to me. "Since you're my girlfriend now, does that mean I can kiss you?" His question flusters me but I try hard not to show it.
"Do you want to kiss me?"
"Really fucking badly."
"Then kiss me, Luke."
And so he does. His lips crash into mine in a soft but passionate kiss. As if he has waited a lifetime to do it. It's gentle yet desperate. As we finally part, he pecks my lips a few more times before pulling away completely. He opens his mouth to say something but is stopped by Jack shouting from where his family is waiting by the cars, surely having seen the whole display.
"If you two lovebirds are done sucking faces in the middle of the parking lot, I would like to leave now. I'm fucking starving." He teases.
We both turn our gazes in time to see Quinn smack the middle brother in the back of the head and both parents shaking their heads at their son's antics. Luke chuckles at the scene as he intertwines his hand with mine and begins to walk to the car. My heart flutters as I finally admit the obvious to myself. Maybe we weren't ever just friends. I mentally roll my eyes as I climb into the back seat, already picturing the two squealing girls in my head and the endless amounts of I told you so's that I'm sure to hear when I fill them in. However, when Luke slides into the car next to me and interlocks our hands once again, I can't bring myself to care. I think I like this little life.
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