#i have gotten so many rejections for jobs

[rimouskis]

hey! I got a new job! that's crazy! I actually kept a huge spreadsheet to track my job search, from my layoff last year through three different job offers. obvs I'm not gonna share the spreadsheet itself but I wanna share some numberrrrrrsssss

over the course of 11 months, I applied to 142 jobs [not including any "easy apply" options on linkedin, which would easily add another 80 or so jobs to this list. if any of those easy apply applications led to an interview, they were added to my spreadsheet].

of those 142, I heard back from 25. I was simply rejected from 58, and never heard from 59.

of the jobs I interviewed for, I was rejected after the first round 12 times and rejected after the second round three times.

I made it to the third round of interviews three times, and all three times I was offered the job.

I removed myself from contention for three roles that were interested in me. I rescinded my candidacy for various reasons like compensation, wanting to be an actual employee instead of a contractor, stuff like that.

I also want to say that many times I interviewed and then was still ghosted, lol. it's so gross to me that companies don't have the wherewithal to communicate with people after speaking with them, especially face-to-face.

some anecdotes:

despite these numbers looking atrocious (and trust me, they FELT atrocious), I had pretty good luck. I secured my first job offer 2 months after starting my job search.

there was a MUCH heavier gap between the first job offer and the second (closer to five months). the reasons for that were: I had started my new job and didn't apply anywhere for a whole month, and also that job destroyed my mental health so badly that I genuinely cannot speak of it lol.

THAT BEING SAID, because the second job offer had a very long interview period, there were only three months between me starting my new job (first job offer) and me sending in my application that led to the second job offer. so, frankly, given that the job almost destroyed my life, I think three months is a pretty good turnaround.

I had a VERY good rate of return between the second job offer and the third. I applied to only 42 jobs and secured interviews for a whopping ~25% of them. maybe I'd finally Gotten Good at applying for jobs after applying to roughly two a day for half a year lol.

that being said, I'd also slowed down a lot in my application grind. I was very demoralized and also felt a lot of complicated feelings around turning down the second job offer. I had very good reasons for it, but it was still an incredibly hard decision and it threw me off my game for a while. I'd also become choosier in what I applied for.

finally, 100ish days after being offered that second job, I was offered the third—and final, for this saga—job. My Long Nightmare Was Over.

so: why share this? firstly, I'm proud of my recordkeeping and wanted to share it, haha. secondly, I know everyone is complaining about the job market, but in case anyone else is in the trenches right now: I just want to tell you that I see you, I feel you, and this has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

applying to jobs was like pulling teeth for me. job SEARCHING, itself, causes (for some reason) an emotional reaction in me so strong that you'd think the process was lab-designed to cause me stress and extreme self-doubt.

I've gotten a lot better at it in the last year, though, and my tolerance and stamina for it is much better. but christ alive, it was an emotionally-taxing grind.

job searching sucks. in several industries, the job market is a total blood bath right now. if you need to talk about it, I'm always happy to lend an understanding ear.

anyways. yay numbers. hopefully I don't have to do that again for a VERY long time.

[thegeekyartist]

On my knees begging for some grace.

[nachtwandeling]

.

[seilon]

been having an overwhelming on and off feeling of dread all day over the thought of opening my email or getting a text or whatever and it’s Yet Another job rejection. like good god that’d fucking kill me

[sunlightontheseaa]

Playing ac odyssey and like. I want so badly to get with some hot lesbians but like. Kassandra is so ace to me she literally is SO ace to me like. Every time someone tries to flirt with me im like 😐😐 give me my drachmae

[dokyeomini]

i need to get over myself and realise i have the privilege of having a stem degree that makes most people i meet assume im super smart...... which isn't entirely true imo but whatever i'll let ppl think that if that's what they want

[fingertipsmp3]

So literally a full week ago HR emailed me double-checking something that was in one of my references, I emailed them back within the hour clarifying literally everything they wanted to know, and I haven’t heard from them since. Normal behaviour

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[devoutekuna]

Bring your child to work

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna doesn't have a job, you don't even know how he gets money. So he brings her to a village he recently raided, he sometimes raided them for resources or just for fun. Once he raided one just because he wasn't willing to pay for your pregnancy cravings. "Dad, this village is all burnt!" complaining at the sight of ash everywhere, kicking her foot through the charred grass blades. "Be quiet" glaring at his daughter as he walked away from her. He was trying to look for atleast a child to keep his daughter company. "Don't leave me!" Running up to him, he didn't understand how she could be scared when her father was the king of curses, plus it was broad daylight and no curse would dare get close to him.

Nanami-

"Let me come with you dad!" All dressed up in her father's clothes, frantically trying to tuck in the shirt, into her skirt. Stood Infront of the bathroom door, she had been awaiting her father to come out, walking out with a bottle of shaving foam in his hand. "You can't sweetheart" crouching down to say it, patting her head as a way to comfort her. She had gotten all dressed up by stealing her father's shirt and tie only to be rejected, even putting in his reading glasses to make her seem more professional. He knew for a fact that she wouldn't be coming with him to work, especially since he was on a mission today. Grabbing her by her shoulders as he dragged her out of the way. "Why not?" Begging for a chance. "Cause I said so" walking towards you.

Sat inside the office reading a book, he purposely didn't take any missions today so that his daughter thought that his job was boring and wouldn't ask again. "Dad, your work is boring!" Sat on the armchair beside him, she had nothing to do but wait for the 9 hours to pass. "I told you that" letting her sit through her actions.

Geto-

Geto has his daughter stand behind the curtains whilst he talks to his followers, not wanting her to hear anything he has to say, especially what would come after he gets mad. He has a personal servant bring her noise cancelling headphones when he starts to get annoyed. Crouching beside her as they played a game, she was so clueless to what her beloved father was doing. Murdering the so-called 'monkeys' of society. "When is my daddy done?" Pats on the head, despite having the headphones on she could recognise that from anywhere. "Right here princess" retracting his hand as he picked her up. Taking the headphones off, dropping them into the servant's hand as he walked off. "Hi daddy!"

Gojo-

When Gojo isn't busy, he's either at home with you or teaching his students, unfortunately for them, they were on a mission already. So he was just laying around in his office. "Dad I'm bored" sat on the sofa opposite him. "So am I" slouching in his chair, there was nothing to do. Even his second year students were on a mission. "Let's go see Nanamin" dragging his son out of his office, searching around the campus just to find the blond. Sat in one of the many lounge rooms. A sigh depleting from his mouth as he heard the voice of the strongest. "What is it now?" Refusing to look up from the book. "Nanamin!" Your son knew who Nanami was due to the many times that Gojo dropped him off on the campus when he went on missions. Despite his many times to stop Gojo's son from calling him 'nanamin' it never worked out since he was so much like his father. "We've come to see you!" Sitting down opposite him. "Are you sure you haven't come to drop your son off?" Receiving the snarky comment was like a bullet to the chest, but he was wrong this time.

Toji-

Toji wasn't officially employed, he was basically unemployed but he always acted like he was employed since he brought in good amounts of money. "Papa I want to help" kicking her little legs as she sat playing with one of the weapons. Her father was currently discussing the new target he had, redacting any words that she may pick up on. "No" Shiu carried on rambling on about the prices he would get if it was under a specific time. "Why not!?" Slapping the poor man with the weapon, fortunately it was blunt, just like playful cloud. "Cause you'll get in my way" ripping the weapon from her hands, putting it back inside the worm. Scrunching up her face as soon as she heard the harsh reality, "Mr Shiu would let me come!" Trying to prove her point even more. "No I wouldn't" he should be smoking right now but didn't for the courtesy of your kid, patting the girl's head as they walked out. Toji following behind him, chuckles could be heard as they left.

[girlgenius1111]

stuck with me

alexia x reader

alexia and r get into an argument just before the holiday break, as the stress of ale's knee injury bubbles over. r loses... a lot of sleep over it. alexia makes it up to her, even though she really doesn't have to.

no warnings :)

To be fair to Alexia, she didn't know you had sleep issues. How could she, when she'd practically been the cure for them? You'd had sleep problems long before you'd gotten together with Alexia, but they had... stopped, magically, when you started sharing a bed. Neither of you spent many nights alone once you got together, so most nights, you slept well, curled up against your steady, dependable girlfriend.

The exceptions were, obviously, when you went home for breaks without her and when you both had to go on national duty. You slept fine at home, away from the stresses of your job, in the comfort of the place you'd grown up in. Normally.

And in regards to national duty, you were lucky to have incredibly teammates. Lucy knew of your problem, and also knew that sleeping in the same bed as someone else was helpful. It wasn't Alexia, and it wasn't perfect, but you slept. You knew you'd have to find a solution when [if] Lucy retired, but for now, there was no reason why you'd spend more than the odd night without Alexia.

That was, of course, until her knee re-injury. Before the following surgery and holiday break. And the not insignificant fight that you'd gotten into with her around that time. It was a tough time for her, you knew, and she was coping with it the best she could. You'd been hovering over her, you knew that too.

You were just so worried, all the time. Alexia was so miserable not being able to play, so frustrated with her knee that sometimes you thought she was finally just going to breakdown and herself feel it all. She never did, though. Not until the day her and the medical team had decided on surgery. It was a few days before you were do back in England for the holidays, and you'd already been considering cancelling, and staying with your girlfriend. She needed you, physically and emotionally.

You really should have waited to bring up your plans to stay until she was in a better mood. Instead, you'd suggested it to her over a very quiet dinner, after the date for the arthroscopy had been set.

-----

"I'm gonna cancel my plane tickets to London, I think. Stay here with you." You suggested casually.

"What?" Alexia asked, dropping her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter.

"I want to spend Christmas here. You're having surgery and-"

"No."

"No?" You said, slightly hurt by the tone of voice she was using.

"No, you have to go home and see your family. I will be fine here."

"Ale, I want to be here."

"I do not need you here." Alexia said finally, avoiding your gaze. You knew she didn't mean it; she was in pain, frustrated, anxious, and trying not to inconvenience you. Still, you felt your eyes fill with tears at the rejection, and you nodded silently, before turning back to your food. You wouldn't cry, couldn't add any more stress to Alexia's already insane load of it.

"Now you will not talk to me?" Alexia asked. You looked up at her in shock, surprised that the next words out of her mouth hadn't been an apology.

"Just leave it, Alexia. I'll be out of your way tomorrow." You said back quietly, allowing some of the sadness you were feeling seep into your voice.

"Do not be like that. You tell me all the time to tell you what I need, and what I need is for you to go to England and see your family."

"Alright, Ale. I got it. You want me to go, I understand." You tried your hardest to keep your voice steady, but it still shook towards the end of the sentence.

"Amor, stop. That is not what I am saying and you know it," Alexia argued.

"I don't really know what you're saying, Alexia. It sounds like you want me to go."

Alexia exhaled loudly, before pushing her chair away from the table and standing up.

"I cannot deal with you if you are going to be like this." She snapped, before slamming her plate into the sink and marching off to the bedroom.

You didn't understand, not really. It seemed like she didn't want you here. Because that's exactly what she had been saying to you. You knew it wasn't really you that was the problem, it was Alexia's inability to allow you to see how upset she was.

This was reinforced when you went into the bedroom a little while later to pack. The shower was on, but you could still hear her crying over the soft patter of water. You knocked on the door, prepared to let the fight go in favor of making sure she was okay, but the little whimpers and shaky breaths cut off abruptly, and she didn't say anything else.

She kept you at arms length for the rest of the night, only speaking when she asked you to come to bed, an olive branch she was extending. You did, but you both kept to your own sides of the bed. You didn't sleep well that night.

Alexia hugged you goodbye the next day at the airport, and you thought she held you a bit tighter than normal. She handed you a little note, requested that you read it on the plane, and softly kissed your cheek, before allowing you to go through security.

The note had been a lengthy apology, scrawled in her familiar loopy, messy handwriting, confirming that everything you thought was going on with her was correct. She was stressed, she didn't want you to worry, or change your plans for her. She shouldn't have yelled, or been so cruel, and she hadn't meant it. She loved you. So much, she said. Things would be better after her surgery.

You'd thanked her for her apology once you'd landed. You'd spoken, often, since then, but there was still so much tension. You were both busy with family, and there wasn't really any time to have an in depth conversation about what had transpired.

You knew the surgery had gone well, they'd fixed the problem, and that Alexia was doing much better. The second part wasn't something that she had to tell you, it was obvious in the increase in texts, and the mushiness that she included. Whenever she went through a hard time, she closed herself off, and when it ended, she'd always overcompensate, feeling guilty, until she went back to normal. That was Alexia, and you loved her.

-----

The biggest casualty of this fight was, unfortunately, your sleep. You struggled while you were home, when normally, you slept fine there. Obviously not as well as when you were with Alexia, but fine. This time, though, you barely slept. Nothing worked, and the only time you were able to sleep was when your body literally shut down, forcing you to sleep for a few hours every other day or so. You were sure it was because of this unresolved fight, and you knew that once you physically saw your girlfriend, you'd be fine. Especially once you could go back to falling asleep on her chest, the steady beat of her heart making you feel warm, and safe, and comfortable.

This was why you'd cut your trip short, and were currently touching down in Spain, a full 5 days before you were supposed to return home. That, and you missed Alexia. You knew she was slightly confused; you'd been weirdly distant while you'd been gone, because you were exhausted, but she didn't know that. She assumed you were mad, until you told her you were coming home early. After that, she gave up trying to figure out what was going on with you, and focused herself on cleaning the apartment, going grocery shopping for all your favorite things, and buying you flowers. She'd been awful, she knew it, and she was determined to make it up to you.

-----

Alexia was waiting for you by baggage claim; you saw her once you got halfway down the escalator. She was leaned against the wall, baseball cap sat over her blonde hair. She was wearing an old England sweatshirt of yours, and you couldn't help the grin that your lips lifted into at the sight. Your beautiful, perfect, girlfriend, head on an absolute swivel, determined not to miss you.

You saw the moment she she saw you, too, her lips turning up at the corners, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if she could barely contain herself from running to you, which she wasn't yet supposed to do. You got down the escalator and over to her in probably an embarrassingly short amount of time, taking care not to put too much of your weight on her, minding her healing knee.

"Amor," she sighed into your hair, arms holding you almost painfully tight.

"Hi, beautiful," you said back, words almost swallowed by her [your] sweatshirt, and the noisy crowds around you.

"Te extrañé mucho de menos," Alexia murmured, pulling back from the hug to pull you in for a kiss. She froze, however, eyebrows scrunching adorably, as she finally got a good look at your face. You knew what she was looking at. "Are you sick?" She asked, feeling your forehead with the back of her hand.

"No, not sick. Just a little tired."

She looked at you skeptically, hand unmoving from your forehead until you pushed it away and leaned up, pursing your lips expectantly. She smiled, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. She pulled away much to soon in your opinion, laughing at your disgruntled expression.

"You need sleep, amor. We can go home and you can rest. Once you sleep, I will give you all the kisses you want, okay?"

"Fineeee," you sighed, allowing Alexia to take your hand, and lead you off to find your bag. She insisted on wheeling it out to the car, even though she was actively recovering from surgery, but she seemed determined to spoil you today.

You sat in content silence in the car, your girlfriend's hand intertwined with yours. You felt that you should have been sleepy, but you were completely wired, eyes open wide, tapping your knee repetitively.

"Do you want to tell me what is going on?" Alexia asked finally, about 10 minutes into the drive. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, spotting the way you went rigid at her question.

"What do you mean?"

"Amor, come on. You look like you have not slept in days." Your only response is a shrug, as you turn your attention out the window.

"Hey. Why did you not sleep?" Alexia insisted, pulling on your hand to get you to pay attention to her.

"I missed you." You replied finally, feeling Alexia's hand tighten around yours.

"I missed you too. That is why you did not sleep well?"

"I... I never used to sleep very well. Until I started sleeping next to you, and then I slept fine. I normally don't have problems sleeping when I go home, though, but this time... I think I was just stressed about our argument."

"I did not know that." Alexia said quietly. "You never told me."

"I know, I know. It just didn't seem like a big deal, because it wasn't, once I was with you."

Your girlfriend looked like she had a million questions, but she didn't ask them. "I am so sorry our fight made you lose sleep. I was completely unfair to you. You do not need to worry about anything now, though, okay? I made your favorite for dinner, if you are hungry. If not, we can just go right to bed. I am yours for the rest of break, whatever you need."

"Really?"

"Really."

-----

You ate the delicious dinner Alexia had cooked, and then took a warm shower. When you got out, you noticed that Alexia had completely unpacked for you, and laid out your favorite pajamas. She was already in the bed, despite it barely being 7pm, looking adorably cozy in a big sweatshirt, the hood tugged up over her head.

"Ale, we don't need to go to sleep now, it's early, you're probably not tired." You said as you pulled the pajamas on. The exhaustion was starting to hit you, and you wanted to promise that you could stay up until a normal time, but you weren't sure you could.

"A bit tired. Whether I fall asleep or not, I want to be right here. Anyway, I should put my knee up." Alexia said dismissively, patting the bed next to her.

"Ale," you began but she shook her head.

"No arguments, bebita. Get in bed." You sighed dramatically, but did as she asked, climbing under the covers and scooting right over to Alexia, as though she was a magnet. You settled against her, shutting your eyes. You heard the lamp flick off, and felt Alexia wrap an arm around you, tugging you into her side.

You tried to fall asleep. Really, you had no idea why you couldn't. You were here, with Alexia, and you should have been able to sleep, easily, especially considering how tired you were. You couldn't manage it though, quickly getting annoyed when your brain wouldn't just turn off.

After the 6th time you shifted positions, Alexia kissed the side of your head, and spoke. "Having a hard time?"

"Yes," you mumbled, burying your face in her chest.

"Be patient. You are exhausted, you will fall asleep soon. Just relax." Alexia encouraged, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

Another 10 minutes passed, in which you felt no closer to sleep. Rolling off of Alexia with a huff, you glared up at the ceiling. Next to you, Alexia rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to gaze down at you.

"You are putting too much pressure on yourself. It is just sleeping, bonita." She said quietly, running a soft finger over your cheek.

Tears of frustration beginning to pool in your eyes. It was just sleeping. It should be easy. You were just realizing for the first time how incredibly tired you were, and how difficult the past couple days had been.

"Do not cry, por favor," Alexia pleaded.

"I can't, I can't fall asleep." Alexia looked at you sympathetically, thumbs wiping away the tears that fell. She sat both of you up after a minute. "Take off your shirt," she instructed, pulling her own over her head, leaving her with only a sports bra on.

"I'm too tired for sex," you cried, the thought only making you more upset; you had missed your girlfriend. A lot. The fact that you were too tired to do anything about it was painful.

"Not sex, amor, just take your shirt off." Alexia insisted, pulling at the hem. You did as she asked, looking rather miserable. You, too, were left in only your bra, but Alexia's eyes were only on yours as she laid back down, rolling onto her side and pulling you in so your head was pressed right over her bare chest, where her heart was.

Your body relaxed without you telling it to, the feeling of Alexia, and only Alexia, engulfing you. Your skin was pressed to hers, inhaling the soft scent of her perfume, feeling her hands rub rhythmically up and down your bare back.

"There you go," she said into your hair, feeling your body sag against hers. "Sleep for me, okay?" She asked.

You couldn't have told her no if you wanted to. Your eyes shut almost immediately, and you felt suddenly so peaceful, brain slowing down until you were only thinking about how good your girlfriend felt against you.

-----

When you woke up, you knew you'd been asleep for a while, if the amount of light flooding the room was any indication. It was bright, even with your eyes shut, which indicated that it was past noon; the sun only came in through the bedroom window after noon. Your body felt stiff but, for the first time in a while, you felt well rested. You were content to wake up slowly, enjoy the comfort of your bed

You attempted to roll over, searching for Alexia's side of the bed so you could use her pillow, (you swore it was comfier). Instead, you rolled right into Alexia herself, and heard her let out a soft laugh. You cracked your eyes open, finding Alexia laying on her back, arm still tucked around your shoulders. Her fingers flitted through your hair, and you relaxed back into her, scooting closer until your head was crammed into the crook of her neck.

"Why are you still in bed?" You mumbled into her. Her body vibrated under yours as she laughed again.

"Are you complaining?" She teased, clearly referencing the way you'd moved yourself so that every part of your body possible was be touching hers.

"No. It has to be late, though. You've been sleeping fine, you didn't have to stay in bed with me." You told her.

"I always sleep better with you, amor. I wanted you to rest, as much as you needed. You are cute when you sleep, anyway. Your nose scrunches up and you make little sounds when you roll around." Alexia murmured into your hair, and you didn't have to see her face to know she was blushing at the information she'd just revealed.

You left a kiss on her neck, before pulling away so you could see her face. "What time is it?"

Alexia didn't say anything, a slightly guilty expression on her face.

"Alexia Putellas, what time is it?" You demanded.

"3PM." She told you quietly.

"3PM?" You shouted, sitting upright in the bed. Sure enough, the clock on the nightstand reflected the time back to you. You'd slept the whole day away. Two of you didn't have any plans, but still.

"How much did you sleep while you were gone? Really, amor? The least I could do was help you rest." Alexia avoided your eyes.

"What do you mean the least you could do?" You asked, softening your tone.

"I was so horrible to you before you left. And then our fight made you not sleep well," the blonde explained, looking miserable.

"And you apologized, Ale. You were under a lot of stress, I get it." You really weren't mad anymore.

"No, that is not good enough. I have to make it up to you. I wanted you here with me, more than anything, but you have already done so much, and I did not want to ruin your Christmas." Alexia insisted, getting seemingly worked up.

"Alexia, I understand. You said all of this in your note."

"I want to say it again." Alexia said stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Look at me." You instructed, turning face towards you with a hand on her cheek when she refused. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "Amor, I forgive you. I told you I forgave you, when I read your letter. Do you not believe me?" You wondered, as your girlfriend didn't look the least bit relieved at you letting her off the hook.

"I believe you, it is just that...no se como decirlo." She sighed.

"Try, please. We've fought before, Alexia, worse than this. What is it about this one that is making you so upset?" You pressed, not relenting even as she shrugged in response.

"I do not want to lose you," Alexia whispered finally, a single tear sliding down her face, as she clenched her jaw, trying to keep together.

"Baby, you are not going to lose me." You promised, moving closer to take her hand in yours. "I knew you didn't mean what you said. You apologized, Alexia, it was just a stupid fight. We got past it, just like we'll get past every fight. Always."

"But what if I push you away again? And you get tired of it, and leave?"

"You could never push me away. I might give you space when you need it, but I will always be here for you. Even when you try to pretend you don't need me. I could never get tired of you, Alexia, and I could never leave you. Ever." You said the words slowly, trying to gauge if she believed you or not.

Although she looked slightly unsure, she did look less upset than she had a minute ago, her face relaxing somewhat as she finally look into your eyes.

"You're stuck me with, Ale. For as long as you want me." Alexia let out a wet laugh.

"I will always want you." She said, pulling you in closer to press her lips to yours. The kiss grew heated quickly, until you were straddling her lap, checking multiple times that her knee was unbothered by the position. She promised that it was fine, distracting you by sliding her hands up your sides, and pulling you back in for another messy kiss.

"Alexia, that is not exactly what I meant," you joked, pulling away briefly as she pulled your bra over your head.

"Me neither, but it has been days, and I have missed you. Let me show you how much I have missed you. Please?" Alexia asked, surprisingly shy as she ran her hand up and down your abdomen, teasing at the hem of your shorts.

You leaned in, you agreement clear in the way your lips met hers, tongue slipping in after a minute. As if you'd ever say no to that offer. You don't think you'd ever say no to anything Alexia asked you. Your love for her was the kind that transcended every issue that could possibly come up. It was you and her, forever.

-----

inspired by my inability to sleep <3 [and my deep belief that sleeping next to a pretty girl would solve all my problems]

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[elix8r]

it’s raining, it’s pouring

PAIRING: cheetah hybrid!mark x house cat hybrid!y/n

GENRES: hybrid!au, smut, angst, enemies to ?

SUMMARY: Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNING: meandom!mark, brattysub!y/n, profanity, y/n being really mean to mark, unprotected sex, manhandling, humiliation, degradation, anal, foot stuff, face-fucking, rough sex, overall filthy stuff

Up until three years ago, your life could be described as utter paradise. With Taeyong being the best owner you could ask for, and living in the coveted top-floor penthouse, you couldn't have any complaints. That was, of course, until your owner one day brought home another hybrid without previously warning you. Apparently, the previous owner of the cheetah hybrid was moving back to America, leaving him in need of a new home. Being the generous owner he was, Taeyong offered to take him in without hesitation (and without discussing it with you beforehand).

The moment Mark walked through the front door, your feelings towards the fellow feline were set, and they had yet to change. He was nothing but a nuisance to you, and despite being in the same cat family, he seemed to be nothing like you. You even attempted to paw at his ears many times before, trying to confirm if he really was a cheetah and not an overgrown puppy. However, each time, you would be met with cries and protests from him, while instinctively his claws extended, confirming that he was indeed a cat.

By now, Taeyong had accepted that you were never going to be best buds with Mark (though the latter still tried his best, despite knowing your response each time). In the beginning, he had hoped that you would get over your distaste for the boy and ultimately welcome him to the family, but as time went on and you showed no change of heart, your owner had to accept the reality.

Mark always took your food, bed, and even toys that were specifically given to you by Taeyong. He was an annoying presence in your life, who seemed to not get the hint that you wanted nothing to do with him. And as always, the exact thing was currently happening as you caught Mark rolling around and leaving his scent all over the new bedding that Taeyong had gotten for you.

"But yours is so much better! I just wanted to try it out, just a little, plus you smell good!" Mark's ears slightly folded down as he desperately tried to explain why you had found him sleeping in your bed.

"That's not my problem! Take it up with Taeyong if you have complaints and stop getting into my stuff. It's getting really fucking annoying and creepy you perv," you sent him a harsh glare, and your eyebrows furrowed in distaste as you could now smell him all over your sleeping area.

"Why can't you share? I mean, Taeyong always tells us to play nice and get along with each other, but no matter how hard I try, you never do! You're always so mean to me, and I don't even know what I've done!" Mark pouted, clearly upset with how you were reacting to him. From the beginning, all he wanted was to be friends with you, but you seemed to reject him at every turn.

"Why do I have to share if Taeyong bought it specifically for me? I mean, I was here first anyway. You should just be happy that Taeyong even took you in. Otherwise, you'd probably be one of those strays we always see outside. You should be thankful for what you got, so stop trying to take my stuff too. Anyways, get out of my room," you huffed towards your bed, barely giving him a second look. You knew that you were probably a bit too harsh with your words, but your annoyance took over, and you couldn't take back what was already said.

Mark was hurt and defeated. He knew there was no point in arguing with you so he nodded quietly and left your room and headed towards his, where he turned to his computer so that he would be able to take his mind off of you and focus on playing games with his friends.

"Bro, she's such a bitch. I mean, I don't know how you deal with her. I've only met her once, and during that time, she almost clawed my eyes out," his friend Jeno, responded sympathetically upon hearing about what had happened.

"Yeah, I feel bad for you, man. Me and Jaemin get along fine, so I can't even imagine what it's like living 24/7 with someone you don't get along with. Oof, it sounds like a nightmare," Haechan shuddered at the thought, and Jaemin nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just fight back and assert your dominance over her? I mean, you are the stronger breed. She'll have to respect you once you scare her straight. Use your predator advantages, and maybe she'll realize that you're not one to be messed with," Jaemin suggested, trying to help Mark find a solution. His words did intrigue Mark, and he had to admit that he had thought about what Jaemin was suggesting. However, he had hoped he wouldn't have to resort to using his powers against you and that you would eventually warm up to him on your own.

Typing and clicking noises filled the conversation for a couple of seconds as they all played online together. "Yeah, I guess. I'll think about it," Mark finally replied.

And think about it he did for the next few hours as he continued to play games with his friends. The topic of you didn't come up again as they were all too engrossed in their gaming. Meanwhile, Mark remained preoccupied with thoughts of you. He was so engrossed in the games that he didn't realize the time or the weather outside, something you were keenly aware of.

Taeyong should have been home by now, yet not a single sign of him was to be seen. You had been waiting patiently for your owner while spending time scrapbooking. Every once in a while, you would peer out your window to see if he was here yet as you were always able to predict when he would be coming in. But today, he seemed to be taking longer. The sky had been turning darker and darker, which laid an uneasy feeling inside of you.

It was quite embarrassing to admit, but even at your grown age, you were still deadly afraid of storms. You were unable to withstand them without the comfort of Taeyong nearby, and with no sign of him, you were becoming antsy. Where was he? Was he okay? These were all thoughts that ran through your mind as you went through all the scenarios of where your owner could be, but every single one led to a bad ending that you didn’t want. So you tried your best to get back into crafting.

Of course, that didn't last long as out of nowhere, a flash of lightning could be seen, followed by a clap of thunder so loud that it shook the house. You yelped out loudly as you felt yourself tremble. The lights flickered for a couple of seconds as rain could be heard heavily pouring down, and now you genuinely felt fear. There was nothing you could do except tuck yourself deeply under your blanket while hoping for the rain to settle down, but your wishes were in vain as there was no indication of it stopping anytime soon, and Taeyong was still not home.

You had already tried texting him and dialing his number, but it went straight to voicemail, which further drove you to worry. What if he had decided he had enough of you and chose to leave you? This thought, above all, made your stomach drop, and tears pricked at your eyes. Despite it being totally irrational and unwarranted, it was still a possibility and it scared you. Suddenly, another thunder could be heard, which once again instigated a whimper out of you. Without fully realizing what you were doing, you found yourself walking towards Mark’s door.

You weren’t sure that you had ever knocked on his door purposely, but here you were knocking. Laughs and talking could be heard from inside the room and you wondered how he wasn’t bothered by everything going on. While you frowned while trying to pull your blanket around your shoulders tighter, the door finally opened and revealed a confused Mark.

You looked absolutely terrified, which was not a look he was familiar with despite living with you for about three years now. You were visibly shaken and your eyes were wide with fear. Instantly, Mark was concerned.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" His brows were furrowed as he noticed you on the verge of crying (though you weren't sure if it was because of the storm, the absence of Taeyong, or even the embarrassing fact that you came crawling to Mark's room).

"Have you heard from Taeyong?" Your usual catty tone was nowhere to be found as you asked with a soft voice.

Until now, Mark hadn’t realized that his owner had not come home when he was supposed to, but at the realization, he too became worried. "No, I don't. I guess I just realized that he hasn't come home yet."

His response made your eyes widen. It was hard to believe that while you were worrying in your room, the thought of Taeyong hadn't crossed Mark's mind even once. "What do you mean you didn't realize? I know he's been coming home later recently, but not this late! I mean, haven't you seen what it's like outside right now? Where is he?"

It was obvious that you were beyond stressed, and even without smelling you, Mark could feel anxiety radiating off of you. It was indeed storming terribly outside, and now Mark was becoming worried knowing that Taeyong was out there. But seeing your state, he came to the conclusion that it would do no one any good to have the both of you freaking out.

"Hey, I'm sure he's fine. I bet he's just waiting out the storm at his work. Why don't you come in here and wait together for him?" His words did not do much to ease your tension, but you did oblige (if it were other circumstances, you would never agree to enter his room, but desperate times called for desperate measures).

"But why isn't he answering my calls then? He knows that I hate storms, and I can't go through them without him! Mark, what if he's never coming back?" You had plopped yourself on top of his bed, eyes wide and lips quivering.

Mark sighed. "Y/N, now you're being ridiculous. Why would he just abandon us? He's probably not getting a signal or something more reasonable."

His dismissive response lacked empathy for your concerns, and you were now shedding tears. "What do you mean more reasonable? I think my concerns are valid! Maybe he's tired of us fighting all the time! I mean, we haven't been the best for him, and I know he's been having a hard time with us. It’s possible that he had it with us and just abandoned us to run away!"

The concern he previously felt was now gone as your dramatic rant slowly started to irk him more and more. Everyone knew that you were the main instigator of your fights, always being unfriendly towards Mark, so to have you group him with you had him scoffing. "You mean more like you were not being a good hybrid like you should have been. I mean, you're the one always instigating fights. I try my best to deal with you, but you're so bratty. Honestly, I'm surprised Taeyong's been able to deal with you this long."

Throughout the three years of living with Mark, you could only count a handful of times that he responded to you in such a manner. He was usually mild-mannered and overall just nice, so hearing this from him had you shocked. It was such a switch and instantly, you could feel his annoyance towards you in the air.

"Ma-Mark, what do you mean?" Your cries had yet to stop, and Mark rolled his eyes at you. Were you that dumb that you hadn't caught on to how frustrated Taeyong had recently been with your behavior? Taeyong was usually very tolerant, but even he was having a hard time with you.

"Jesus Y/N, are you seriously that stupid?" Even Mark was shocked at how he was talking to you, but this pent-up anger towards you had been a long time coming. He had been holding it all in, trying to be as good as he can to you despite your actions towards him, but now he was reaching a boiling point. He was beyond annoyed, and maybe this cold hard wake-up call was needed for you to start behaving better.

"I'm not stupid! Who do you think you are to talk to me like that, you fucking bastard?" You tried to sound strong while defending yourself against his harsh words, yet the tears seemed to not stop. Frustratingly, you got up to further confront him, but to your surprise, his hands came up around your neck and forced you back on the bed. Clearly, your words had further driven him to anger.

It was clear that Mark was angry. He had never put his hands on you this way, and in response, you were also fuming. How dare he put his hands on you? "Get your filthy ass hands off me!"

Mark didn't listen, though, as he pushed you further into the bed and hovered over you. His eyes held a fiery rage that you weren't sure you had ever encountered, certainly not from Mark. No trace of your bravado could be found, and for the first time, you cowered in his presence. Chills ran down your body as you felt his tail moving all over your bare legs. Amidst the fear you felt from the feline, another emotion bubbled beneath your lower belly.

Never in a million years would you have expected yourself to be turned on by Mark, but here you were, unconsciously purring in response to his actions. The once sweet and amiable Mark was gone, and this new version of him that showcased himself in front of you was one that you couldn't help but find yourself incredibly attracted to. Alas, you realized that you, just a common domesticated house kitty, were no match for the fast and strong beast that Mark presented himself to be.

"You know I've been quite understanding toward you. I put up with your attitude for three fucking years, yet here you are, still not realizing how much of a spoiled and ungrateful little kitty you've been. Despite taking all your shit, here you still are with the audacity to be in my room and still be a bitch when I nicely allowed you in to comfort you. It's obvious Taeyong hasn't been doing a good job taming you to be the nice house cat you're bred to be. But enough is enough, and clearly, the soft approach isn't working, so I guess I'll have to be the one to straighten you out."

And with that, he pressed his lips against yours roughly, making his intentions clear that he wouldn't go easy on you. Teeth clicked against each other and as the kiss deepened, you found yourself caught between conflicting emotions. Maybe, you did deserve this, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a part of you unwilling to surrender to Mark's dominance this easily.

His hands roughly dragged themselves all over your body as you panted heavily against his lips. In an attempt to take charge, you wrapped your legs around his waist, intending to twist him around and position yourself on top. However, his quick instincts kicked in, and he caught on before you could even execute your plans. He immediately pinned you under him again.

"Tsk tsk, I told you. I'm in charge today, and that little move you tried to pull on me is going to cost you now," Mark growled, and all you could manage in response was a small whimper. Your body struggled to adjust to not being the one in control.

His hands were burning hot as they hurriedly moved to strip you of the only article of clothing that you were wearing. It was a large shirt that engulfed you, and most days you had no issue with it being the only thing you wore around the house. You found it to be the most comfortable and unrestricting for your tail, allowing you to move freely without any discomfort. However, if you had been made aware beforehand of the situation you were currently in, you would have reconsidered.

Being fully bare in front of Mark while he was still fully clothed made you feel hot in humiliation, but you fought against your impulse to cover yourself. Instead, you held your head high and maintained unwavering eye contact with the male feline before you. A devilish smirk ghosted his pretty face as his eyes started to move down, unashamedly wandering all over your naked figure and taking in every curve, making sure to not miss a single spot.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was stern and Mark could feel his pants get tighter and tighter.

“What if I don’t want to?” You coyly eyed him, still stubborn and unwilling to give in as easily as you knew Mark hoped you would.

With a firm grip on your chin, he was clearly losing his patience with you. "Don't make me repeat myself again. Get on your knees," he demanded with less composure than before. Reluctantly, you complied, but your gaze held a sparkle of mischievousness, indicating your satisfaction at successfully getting under his skin.

Your hands moved at a tortuously slow speed as you undressed him, knowing that it would be more fuel to the fire already ignited within him. This cat-and-mouse game you seemed to be dragging Mark into was entertaining you like nothing else before. Any previous anxiety and worry you had regarding Taeyong were not even thoughts in your mind right now, as you were fully occupied with pushing Mark to the edge. Pissed-off Mark seemed to be your favorite version of him, and it was a shame that it took three years for you to be graced with its presence, but better late than never.

You must have underestimated Mark though as you suddenly felt pressure on your clit. His foot had flexed up roughly against your pussy reminding you of who was in charge. You were biting back your moans as he seemed to have no plans of moving his foot while you finally got his pants off. Yanking his underwear down with the pants, his dick instantly freed, almost smacking your face.

"Fuck, Mark," you marveled at the sight. Even from the day you met him, you couldn’t deny (no matter how much you wanted to) that Mark was beautiful, but now it was fully confirmed that he was indeed absolute perfection.

With his cock glistening and tip pulsing red, your ears twitched as you felt yourself getting even further dazed with arousal. Your hands hesitantly wrapped themselves around his length and you heard a small groan release from within him. Your hands were incredibly soft and nothing compared to anything Mark had previously experienced. The slow strokes became increasingly faster and with wide eyes, you inched your head towards his slit before tentatively dipping your tongue in his slit.

“Shit, keep going.” He instructed and you could hear his breaths get more erratic the more you started to use your tongue.

You ran your tongue over the underside of his shaft before returning to his head wrapping your mouth around it. Mark was insanely receptive as you could feel his tail once again swiftly moving around your body the further you sank down his length. Once you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, you started to guide yourself back and forth, adopting a steady pace. Your hands moved to work in tandem with your mouth around what your mouth couldn’t reach.

With hollowed cheeks and reddened eyes that stared straight into his, just the sight alone could have him cumming. His hand rested gently against the back of your head and as he felt more and more pleasure, his hips started to penetrate deeper into your mouth. Then all of a sudden, Mark felt your teeth gently scraping against his dick which instantly had him harshly grabbing a hold of your hair and ripping you off his length.

Your head was pulled all the way back, almost straining your neck, but the only thing you could do was giggle at his reaction once you saw his face. With a stern warning he gave you with his eyes, you were shoved back down his cock with even more force than before. He mercilessly fucked your mouth and your claws dug deep into his thighs, yet he couldn’t care less. Deep grunts and lewd noises of you gagging and choking around him filled the room as tears drenched your face. You were sopping wet by now and in attempts to find some relief, you grinded down against his foot.

“Fuck, almost there,” he moans, and with one last deep thrust, you feel spurts of his cum painting your throat.

You try your best to swallow his load, but it’s too much as some seep out from the corner of your mouth and after what seems like forever, Mark pulls you off of him. Deep gasps come from you as you try your best to catch your breath, but it seems like he has no intentions of stopping as you’re quickly yanked up from the floor and thrown on the bed.

“Look at this,” Mark held your legs open wide as he examined your drenched pussy. “I mean you were grinding against my feet so fucking hard. You liked getting off against my feet? Fucking nasty whore. I mean that’s fucking embarrassing how desperate you are”

“Fuck, off.” You angrily spat out while you attempted to close your legs. It was indeed humiliating that Mark was making you feel and act like this.

He smirked at your words, "Oh yeah? You really want me to fuck off? Cause I will, I mean I already got my fix, no need to continue on." Panic instantaneously coursed through you at his suggestion to leave you like this, and without hesitation, you desperately reached for his wrist, holding him from leaving you.

"Wait, no. Mark, please," you begged. You knew he was getting off on this control he had over you, but you couldn’t really care less. There was only one thing you wanted right now, and you would do just about anything to get it.

“Why? I don’t owe you anything. All you’ve ever done for me was treat me like shit. Maybe you should’ve been a better kitty then.” You were losing your mind the more seconds went by he wasn’t touching you.

“Please Mark, I’m sorry.” Your eyes welled up, frantically begging for him. “I’ll do anything, please. I promise.”

As sadistic as it was, Mark couldn’t help but absolutely love seeing you like this. You looked helpless and desperate. “Anything?”

You furiously nodded. “Yes! Anything, Mark. Please, touch me. Use me!”

“So you’d let me choke you or do this?” He pinched your nipples hard and despite the pain, you continued to nod. “What about this? You like this?” Mark’s hand traveled down to your tail and tugged on it. Tails on hybrids were known to be off-limits to others as it was one of the most sensitive parts of your body so to have Mark do this to you was not only demeaning but also overwhelming, but you still nodded.

“Hmm, maybe you really are willing to let me do anything. What about here? Will you let me use it?” His thumb rubbed against the rim of virgin hole. You’ve had sex plenty of times but never had you ventured to have your rear penetrated.

Your already widened eyes grew even bigger at what Mark was insinuating, clearly taken aback by the feeling of his thumb. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but this didn’t necessarily mean that you were against it. Slowly, you nodded, letting out a soft whine at the new sensation that you were growing to enjoy.

“Please Mark, give me anything.” Your answer clearly satisfied him as he moved to rest his cock, which had hardened again, on your heat.

Smacking the head of his dick against your clit had you loudly moaning and without warning, he fully plunged into you, giving you no respite to adjust to his hard length before pounding himself into you. Squelching noises filled the room and while you would have most definitely been embarrassed if this was any other scenario, you were a little too preoccupied with screaming Mark’s name loudly as you felt indescribable pleasure.

Mark seemed to be sharing a similar sentiment to yours as he also let out loud moans and grunts as he continued to snap into you. You felt heavenly, so warm and tight, almost as if you were made specially for him and if he could, Mark would want to stay buried inside of you for the rest of his life.

“Ngh, so good! Please don’t stop!” You were practically screaming as your claws sunk themselves into Mark’s back in an attempt to hold onto something. You were incoherent and babbling all sorts of things.

Suddenly, when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, you felt the rough pads of Mark’s fingers roughly rubbing themselves against your engorged clit. Instantly, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and it didn’t take long before you felt as if the Earth was stuttering on its axis as you came.

Tears poured down your pretty face as you sobbed, but it seemed as though Mark was not through with you. Swiftly, he flipped you around, yanking your tail up, which had you shrieking in sensitivity. Your ass immediately perked up while your body slumped forward, completely at his mercy.

“Look at you, so pretty in submission.” You could hear him smiling as he teased you. He admired your pussy, so puffy and glistening from your orgasm before gathering your release onto his fingers and spreading them on your unbreached hole.

All you could do was gasp against your mattress at the sensation, clearly aware of what he was trying to do. Slowly, he prodded his finger into the hole, testing the waters on how you would react before going further. You were trembling against his finger, mewling out as your hands tightly gripped the sheets on his bed. The mix of vulnerability and excitement overwhelmed you, and you couldn't deny the pleasure that was slowly building within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, I’m barely able to get this finger in. How’re you going to be able to take my cock princess?” Quickly you whined back at his words.

“Mhm, I can ugh, I can take it. I promise.” You’re barely able to breathe out before you went back to being a moaning mess as Mark started to move his finger around.

Mark loved how receptive you were to everything he was doing to you. Deciding to try another one, he slowly slid another finger into your incredibly taut hole. You were clenching hard around him, but the second his hands wrapped around your tail again, you seemed to loosen up, which gave him room to scissor his fingers around.

“Please, just put it in. I need you, Mark please!” Your patience was waning and while you appreciated his attempts to loosen you up, knowing that it was not only your first time but also due to his substantial size, you were tired of waiting and now just wanted him in you.

Mark didn’t need to be told twice and he quickly yanked his fingers out before positioning himself on your pulsating hole. He gradually pushed into you and instantly, the tightness around his head had him rolling his head back. As he pushed himself further into you, your whimpers got louder as your back arched further to get closer to him. It was painful and an unfamiliar sensation, but the pleasure outweighed any other feeling and you were determined to take him all.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight around me babe.” Mark mused as he finally sunk all of himself into you before pausing for a second to take everything in. Then, he started to rock himself at a slow pace before adopting a steady pace that was comfortable for both of you.

Once again, lewd sounds of moans and pants filled the room that was potently covered in the scent of sex. Your body quivered against his with his tight grip was the only thing keeping your body from fully slumping over. As you felt yourself loosening up, you felt Mark quickening his pace as he was now pounding relentlessly into you. His balls were harshly slapping themselves against your sensitive clit and you already felt yourself coming close to releasing for a second time tonight.

“Keep going, I’m close! Don’t stop!” You pleaded and it seemed that Mark was also coming close to combusting as you felt him tightly gripping your shoulders to give himself more momentum to thrust into you.

Ringing in your ears came first before everything seemed to cut to white noise as you felt yourself convulsing. You weren’t even sure if you were even awake, let alone alive as the sensation continued. As Mark continued to slam into you, chasing his release, he felt spurts of wetness coming from you. You were squirting and at the realization, Mark instantly came. Ropes of his cum painted your inside and when he finally pulled out, the sight alone was filthy and absolutely porn-worthy. Your hole continued to clench over nothing and his cum slowly seeped out creating an image that Mark knew he would have forever ingrained in his mind.

You had gone fully limp on the bed, with only small twitches giving an indication that you were, in fact, still alive. Mark had completely fucked you into oblivion, and not a single ounce of your previous bratty attitude seemed to have withstood as you didn't even bat an eye when Mark wrapped his arms around you both, trying to recover and catch your breath.

“Guys, I’m here! I’m so sorry, the rain had everyone—what the fuck!” Out of nowhere, the door to the room slammed open, showcasing your owner standing drenched from the rain and sporting a wide smile that quickly disappeared at the sight his two hybrids were found in. Shit, both of you had totally forgotten about Taeyong.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy birthday mark lee love you sm and stay rawr xd <3

[livwritesstuff]

i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam

Eddie does not understand sports. 

He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.

To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.

He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.

Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing. 

Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.

As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.

Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.

Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).

“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.

“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”

The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.

Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.

A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.

“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.

“She's concussed,” Steve announces.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.

Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.

“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”

“No one uses walkie talkies.”

“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah! And it worked out great!”

CONTINUE ON AO3

[dokries]

love at first bite

pairing: kim mingyu x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, college au, strangers/classmates to lovers

word count: 1.4k (including bonus)

warnings: mentions of food, just very embarrassing for reader.

author note: this is a repost, so if you’ve seen it before, you probably have. i hope you enjoy :D

masterlist

you should’ve taken up your classmate’s offer. 

you were packing up after your shared history class earlier when chan had suggested that you get lunch with him before eventually going your separate ways to study. 

he had sat two seats away from you when the semester had started, and when he asked you for notes after a particularly confusing class, it took only two more until he had shifted to sit next to you, becoming your Thinkers and Thugs: Ancient Greeks and Romans buddy (yes, that was the actual name of the class; it turned out that you both had thought it would be a fun class when selecting it, but in reality it was just discussing what old man in history was worse).

you felt a little guilty rejecting him when his face fell, but you had a date with yourself already planned: you would stop by the cafe to get your favourite drink—and a cake slice on-the-house, thanks to your best friend’s new job there (thank you joshua!)—before heading to the library to study your butt off for your approaching midterms.

however, your seemingly perfect plans were interrupted by a sign on the door of the pledis university cafe, saying that it was closed temporarily due to construction—joshua had complained about how the sink had been broken by one of his coworkers the other day, so it made sense. it was alright though; your plans could still be salvaged, and you grabbed a can of coffee from the vending machine in the lobby of the library instead. after finishing half of the beverage in one go (what? talking about roman thugs takes a lot out of a person), you had made your way to your favourite spot, at the very end of the row of cozy study tables. 

your productivity lasts for a solid 2 hours, planning out what to go over before your exams and when—you are not going to be unprepared for them like last semester, when midterms had been more hellish than usual, as you hadn’t planned anything out. taking a quick look at the clock on your laptop tells you that it’s 4:30 pm already, the time you had decided earlier to head home…but you were so close to finishing a section for your history class that you decide to keep on typing. 

around 15 minutes later, you hear your stomach growl quietly. you had been so caught up in studying that you had completely forgotten to eat something—your body was surviving only on the tasteless can of coffee from earlier, and the small breakfast you had eaten this morning. 

remembering that you had a bottle of water from the long walk joshua had forced you on by the beach yesterday—“it’ll be fun!” he had said. spoiler alert: it was not, as your favourite jacket had gotten dirty with all the sand, and how you both had become sweaty messes by the end with hair all over the place, thanks to the ocean breeze.

you take it out and chug the remaining water down, praying that it’ll stop your stomach from being noisy in the still library; you’re almost done with the last section you needed to cover for another class, and then you could be free to grab some food before heading back to the pledis uni dorms. 

somehow, the powers above decide that the lack of cake slices provided by joshua wasn’t enough suffering, and your stomach growls loudly. your hands quickly make their way to press down on your abdomen (like it would even make a difference) and thankfully, there aren't many people around to see the flush creep up your face. it takes a few deep breaths in and out for you to feel comfortable enough to go back to your work. 

you manage to type out five words.

just five words before your stomach growls again louder and by this point, you’re probably as red as the fire trucks stationed at the fire hall you pass by to get to the dorms. unable to stop yourself, you slump down against the library work table, your head finding its way onto your laptop—which you closed beforehand. 

you have no more water, and you had finished that stupid can of coffee ages ago. your thoughts circle back to the cafe. if only it had been open…you wouldn’t have been in this situation. you let out a soft sigh at the missed opportunity of cake. 

the sound of plastic crinkling against the solid wood of your desk pokes through your hunger induced daze of cake, and you look to the side, eyes straining to see a single granola bar right above your left ear. what the—did the powers above decide to help you for once? 

a quick look behind the snack told you no; it was just the guy sitting at the table beside you. 

wait. there was a guy sitting beside you this entire time? holy sh— you frantically think, face immediately flushing again.

your neighbour doesn’t seem to notice you staring, his eyes now focused on the review booklet he was going over. huh, it looks strangely similar to the one you were poring over yesterday while studying for your Introduction to Linguistics class.

he seems vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite pinpoint why. 

he suddenly turns his attention on you, his warm eyes focusing on yours and the corners of his lips turning up before he softly calls your name. “you should take a bite before your stomach growls again, it was pretty loud.” 

you sit up, straightening your posture before tilting your head. “do i know you?” 

he laughs quietly, and you find yourself lost in the way his giggles carry over to your ears quietly like music. he picks the granola bar and places it lightly in your hand, gesturing for you to open it first. 

as you slowly peel apart the plastic covering and take a small bite, he grins. “i’m mingyu! i uh, i’m in your intro to linguistics class actually. you probably recognize me from there.” 

his words make perfect sense once you process them, and you finally remember that he’s the tall guy who sits behind you in class.

“i borrowed a pencil from you once actually,” his soft smile turns into a sheepish grin and he slumps like a scolded puppy, preparing for the worst. “i never gave it back because…i uh…i broke your pencil by accident.” 

you blink, put down the empty granola bar wrapper and burst into laughter. this guy before you, who’s definitely much stronger judging by the muscles barely hidden by his red sweatshirt, was scared of you? now that was something to laugh about.

“don’t worry about it,” you say, still giggling. “you can pay me back by…” your eyes light up. “by paying for a meal right now!” 

his eyes widen before he smiles again, and you can practically see his puppy ears perk up. “really? we can go to the pho place across the street then! it’s been a while since i went, anyway.”

you nod before grinning at his excitement, and he jumps up and starts walking towards the entrance of the library. 

confused, you call out to him. “mingyu, you silly goose! you forgot your stuff!” 

“oh right…i forgot i needed that.”

bonus!

(a/n: hater #1 is seungkwan, hater #2 is jeonghan, bononie is vernon)

mingyu ❙

oh my god i feel so bad for them 😭

their stomach keeps grumbling…did they not eat…

bononie ❙

yikes 

ur down bad

mingyu ❙

WHAT DID I EVEN DO? 

all i said was that i feel bad…

bononie ❙

exactly lmao

hater #1 ❙

mingyu you loser just talk to them

they’re literally right beside you.

mingyu ❙

THEY LOOK EMBARRASSED ENOUGH

I'M NOT GONNA DISTURB THEM

hater #2 ❙

literally just talk to them i’m with seungkwan on this

bononie ❙

mingyu if u dont talk to them now u never will

do u want to end up single forever or smth

hater #1 ❙

me and jeonghan would win the bet then… 

nvm mingyu don’t do anything!

mingyu ❙

YOU BET ON ME BEING SINGLE?

do you have no trust in my amazingness

hater #1 ❙

shut up mingyu

hater #2 ❙

shut up mingyu 

mingyu ❙

geez i can’t catch a break can i

bononie ❙

anyway…

u said they were hungry right 

literally just give them a granola bar i know u have tons of those in ur bag

mingyu ❙

oh wait that’s actually a good idea

i’m doing that 

wish me luck guys!

hater #1 ❙

no 

i need money from chan

don’t even try to approach them.

omg i’d get two birds with one stone!

[stylesharrys]

Put It on Me

You’re a little horny and Harry’s the musician of the night.

A/N: the idea of Harry being a small-town musician and doing local gigs with his band is something I love the idea of too fucking much, so this is literally just porn with somewhat of that plot (not really) but yeah. enjoy my angels!

Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, teasing, swearing, somewhat semi-public sex, protected sex, dirty talk, harry making you watch yourself in the mirror hehe

WC: 2.4k

//

You’ve needed a night out for ages, the stress of your job and the fading heartache of your ex-boyfriend sitting heavy on your shoulders. You knew your friends were right and meant well when they told you to quit your childish moping and get back on the wagon. And you also knew you should’ve listened to them sooner because now you’re having a wail of a time.

You’ve been at the bar for two hours already and finally beginning to feel the high and surge of confidence from your drinks. You’ve lost count of how many shots and cocktails you’ve had, but you blame that on the brown-haired beauty that’s been singing on stage for the past hour.

Gorgeous brown locks, dazzling green eyes. You can tell how pink his lips are from across the expanse of the bar and in the dim lights that sits overhead, he looks like a fucking Greek god. He can sing, too. A silky-soft voice but he growls certain lyrics of a rock song and your panties have been soaked for the last forty minutes.

You meet eyes halfway through Sex on Fire and you’re sure something erupts in your stomach that’s akin to a burning flame. You’ve learnt his name to be Harry after asking the bartender for it and after the first time of catching sight of you, Harry apparently can’t get enough.

He’s been eye-fucking you all damn night and you’re beginning to grow increasingly impatient. No man has ever had such an effect on you, especially with one look. When his set is over, you buy him a drink, tell the bartender to buy him another of whatever he’s been drinking all night.

Harry disappears for a while after his little gig and you’re thoroughly disappointed to not find him as you lean up on your tiptoes in search. Another three drinks have slid down your throat with ease by the time he makes another appearance and you have gone past the point of fear of rejection.

You came here for a good time, no insecurity is going to ruin that.

He finds you before you find him; swaying your hips deliciously on the dance floor and he chugs the rest of the drink you’d gotten him. He knew it was from you when the bartender said it was from the cute chick with the dark pink lips and mini skirt and he was eager to go and talk to you.

He struggled hiding his semi behind the thin mic stand while he performed and he had to shuffle his hips awkwardly as he danced so as to not thrust his erection in the faces of the partygoers in the front of the dance floor. He’d much rather thrust it in just yours.

Harry makes his way through the crowd to you, a cheeky grin on his lips and he has enough liquid courage to go over and talk to you. You lock eyes when he weaves through your friends and a more than excited smirk glimmers at the corners of your lips.

Finally.

“You get your drink?” You speak first and fuck, his mind is spinning. Your voice drips of pure honey and sex and he wonders what you’d sound like crying his name, begging you for more, for it harder and faster.

Harry blinks, cheeks flushed and not just from the drinks. “I did, thank you…” he pauses, head tilted and it’s the most least-awkward way he can think of to ask you for your name.

You grin. “Y/N,” you tell him your name but you don’t ask for his, you’ll gladly let him know you already know it.

Harry nods, pink tongue swiping to lick across his bottom lip and your eyes are glued to the sinful sight. What else could that tongue do? You don’t bother to chastise yourself for the sinful thoughts of the stranger, instead, you let the idea excite you more and your knees almost buckle.

“And you’re welcome,” you sip on your drink, tongue circling the straw as you gaze up at him through your lashes. He almost has an entire foot on you. “Must’ve been a little thirsty after that performance,” you flirt back, head tilting and you gnaw on your bottom lip.

Harry feels his entire body flush, feels the blood rush to the swollen tip of his aching cock. Before he can say anything, Mitch taps on his shoulder, whispering something incoherent in his ear. Harry isn’t listening, too busy trying to turn around again and talk to you, so he doesn’t feel Mitch slip the little foil wrapper in his back pocket.

When Harry finally pushes Mitch away and spins back around, your drink is gone and your empty hands are up in the air, body moving and head rolling. Your eyes are closed, every inch of you feeling the beat of the music and Harry finds himself gravitating closer to you. His hands find purchase on your hips, his tented crotch pressing against your plump ass as you move against him.

Your head falls against his shoulder, hands reaching around the back of his neck as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging gently but just enough for him to feel it. Harry’s grip on your waist tightens and he guides the movement of your hips to his and before long you’re swaying and grinding in rhythm, heavy breathing in your ear and you tilt your head, nose bumping his chin.

Harry leans down, connecting those pink lips with yours and everything feels 10 times better. His tongue slides between your parted lips and dances with yours, hands on your waist twisting you so your chest clashes with his. Neither of you hear your friends cheering and spurring you on, too caught up with the taste of the other.

His hands are on your ass, grabbing and squeezing and you’re not dancing anymore. Your fingers are tangled in his hair still, pulling and tugging harder and whimpering into his mouth when he pinches the bottom of your thigh.

When you pull away, your lipstick has smudged across his mouth but neither of you care. Your miniskirt has ridden up, the bottom of your ass hanging from it and you can feel his hardon poking at your abdomen.

With his hand in yours, you wrap his arms around your waist, and lead him off the dance floor with your back pressing to your chest. Harry follows, nipping bites and kisses to your neck and breathing messily in your ear. Your eyes are fluttering but upon seeing the disabled toilets, you shove him inside and lock the door behind you.

Harry stands across from you, chest heaving and panting and you both look thoroughly fucked; hair a mess, lips swollen, eyes intoxicated. You both step closer at the same time and it’s as if your minds are in sync. Your legs wrap around his waist, skirt bunching around your middle and he shoves you against the door as soon as he catches you.

His lips are on yours and your barely clothed pussy grinds against his hardness. Everything is frantic, eager. Harry’s hands are on your ass, yours tugging at his hair again and he suckles your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping as he releases it and assaults down your jaw and neck, sucking bruises on the soft skin and your mind is reeling.

“Fuck, Harry,” you shudder breathlessly and Harry pulses in his pants.

Knew you’d sound so fucking good whimpering his name. One hand leaves your ass and grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side for better access to your collarbone. You whimper, desperate and eager.

“More, need more. Want your cock,” you pant out.

Harry groans into your neck, nodding his head and he releases your jaw, reaching down between your bodies and his thump swipes up your clothed cunt. To Harry’s utter enjoyment, you’re soaked through; thighs trembling at the well-needed sensation.

“Want my cock, baby? Want me to fuck your tight little pussy?” You whine at his words, eyes rolling and you’ve never been with someone who spoke so filthily and he’s barely touched you. You nod your head frantically, clawing at his scalp and he pulls your little panties to the side, middle finger circling your dripping, puckering hole.

You shudder at the touch, Harry grunting in your ear as he smears your wetness all over your swollen cunt. “Yeah, I need it so bad,” you coax him, hips rolling, legs trembling. He pushes a finger through your folds, curling against that spongy spot and you cry out, a frantic ‘yes, yes, yes’ tumbling past your lips.

He pulls away too soon for your liking and sucks his fingers clean, humming at your taste — but as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom, you’re more than happy to let it slide. While your legs are still wrapped around his waist, you unbuckle his belt quickly and unzip his jeans. Your hand reached into his boxers, retrieving his thick, long cock and pumping it generously in your hand, spitting down on it and spreading the wetness.

Harry’s head falls back, grunts and groans ricocheting against the walls of the bathroom and you hum at the delicious sight, reaching forward to suckle at the column of his thick neck and littering small purple bruises to the pale skin.

“God, need to fuck you,” Harry’s deep voice strains and you gnaw on your bottom lip, squeezing his cock and releasing it.

He slides the condom on with ease, slapping his tip against your clit for extra measure and sliding into you in a quick thrust. You gasp and claw at his shoulders, hands grabbing his head and tugging it down to the crook of your neck.

“So fucking tight,” he whimpers, nipping at your collarbone but you’re busy with something else.

Behind Harry stands the sink on a counter and a large mirror behind it. You can see the sweat dotting at your hairline, how each snap of his hips has your jaw slacker each time. There’s something so dirty about watching yourself through pleasure that has you gushing around him.

You don’t realise he’s talking until he pulls his head from your neck and notices you’re staring straight ahead, in a pleasure-filled haze. He follows your line of sight and everything is red. You’re really watching yourself get off.

Harry turns back to you, wrapping his arms back around your ass and pulling you off the wall. You shriek at the sudden movement and let him carry you, spin you both around so you’re by the mirror. He pulls out all too quickly, leaving you gaping and turning you around to look in the mirror.

As quickly as you make eye contact in the reflective glass, he’s bending you over the sink, your hands bracing either side of the counter and he bunches your skirt higher up your middle and tears your little lace panties from your core, shoving them in his pocket. Harry palms at your perky ass, spanking and rubbing. He looks back to the mirror, the sight of his blown eyes and set jaw is too much for your cunt.

You dip your head, almost falling into the sink but Harry isn’t having any of it. The bass from the music thumps outside of the bathroom and muffles the noises of your frantic moans and whines. He thrusts back into you all at once and with one hand, he reaches for your curled hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugs, forcing you to look in the mirror.

Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and jaw slack. You’re a gorgeous fucking mess and Harry’s cock is throbbing between your walls.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what my cock does to you,” he seethes through gritted teeth, lips nipping at the shell of your ear. Your pussy convulses around his length, squeezing and clenching as pornographic moans tear through your throat.

Harry reaches around, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit and he eases his hold on your hair, too caught up with how tight you are around his thick cock and your head falls, eyes fixed on the sight of his slender fingers touching your little nub.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!” you shriek, voice high and music to his ears. Harry soon realises you’re not watching yourself and reaches for your jaw, forcing you to look in the mirror.

“Want you to watch yourself cum all over my cock, Princess,” he growls, teeth gritted and hips frantic. You cry out, eyes hooded but you watch, just like he demanded.

Your makeup is ruined but you don’t give a shit. The sight before you is unholy, his fingers gripping your jaw and your lips parted. You look like such a fucking good girl and remembering that it’s a complete stranger that has you feeling this way only pushes you closer to the edge.

In a burst of confidence and desperation, you reach for his hand on your face and guide it down your throat, stretching your fingers around his gentle hold and squeezes. Something even darker than before swims across Harry’s eyes and his pounding becomes relentless, his hold on your throat tightening and your eyes are rolling back.

Everything is heightened and all you can smell and feel and think is him. Your legs begin to tremble, entire body shaking and with a long string of profanities and desperate whines, you come all over his cock, panting and shaking and throbbing. He quickly follows, bottoming out and his hold on your throat releases as he hunches over your smaller frame and comes in the condom, grunts and cries spilling off his pink lips.

You both remain still for a few moments, trying to catch your breath and keep your legs from giving out on you. Harry pulls his softening cock out slowly, allowing you to lean your hands on the sink counter as he removes the condom and shoves it in the bin, cleaning himself and you up gently with some tissue. Your heart flutters at the action… Do one night stands usually do that?

Biting back a grin, his hands on your hips slowly spin you around to him and as you loop your arms around his neck and smile lazily up at him, he reaches down and covers you back up with your skirt, hands resting on your waist. His nose bumps yours, softly pressing open-mouthed kisses to your lips which you’re just as eager to return before he pulls back.

“So... “ he pants, a post-orgasmic grin on his lips. “Can I get your number?”

[animationmovieshipps]

Stay with Me (Opla Luffy x Reader)

You let out a long sigh, leaning over the edge of the ship and feeling the salty sea breeze ruffling your hair.

With so many thoughts surrounding your mind, you couldn't sleep even if you wanted to. When had things gotten so complicated in your life?

As if before you met Luffy it wasn't already.

It had all started when your parents died, when you had barely become a teenager. You knew it wasn't their intention, but they left you alone in the world, not knowing how to support yourself.

Having no other choice, you packed your bags before you were evicted from the house where you lived your entire life and went to the city's brothel.

Being young and pretty, you were quickly accepted to work there.

You hated more than anything having to sell your body to brute men who didn't care about anything other than satisfying their own needs. But you had to resign yourself, there was no other way for you to be able to eat.

Until one day, you couldn't take it anymore.

Trying to defend yourself from the attack of a man who wanted to have you at any cost, you pierced his throat with a shard of glass and he fell dead on the floor.

Horrified by what you had just done, you fled out the window before they found out what happened and ran to the port. After what you had done, you could no longer stay on that island.

Without seeing clearly what was in front of you out of desperation, you ended up bumping into a boy wearing a straw hat.

He didn't know your name, or who you were, but seeing how desperate you were, he allowed you to board his ship and left the island with him and his crew.

You ended up finding out that his name was Luffy, despite some of the pirates being suspicious of you and your intentions, he seemed to trust you completely.

From what you knew of men there was only one reason why he had agreed to help you.

Without waiting for him to try something, you snuck up on him first at the first opportunity you two were alone. However, to your surprise, he rejected you.

Confused, you asked if that wasn't what he wanted for saving you. He just laughed and explained that he only saved you because he saw that you needed help and didn't expect anything in return.

That day, something changed in your heart. You no longer saw him with the same eyes as before. And that was what you least wanted to happen.

From the beginning, your plan was to stay on the next island where the ship would dock and start a new life.

You had to forget about him, but it was practically impossible when you were stuck with him on a ship for days.

"Hey."

You were taken out of your thoughts when you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

"Hi." You smiled, like you always did when you were in his presence. "Can't sleep either?"

"No." Luffy replied. "I always get anxious before arriving on an island I've never been to before."

You chuckled, not saying anything else. You looked at each other in silence for an exaggeratedly long time.

"So tomorrow you're really going to leave?" He asked, finally breaking the silence that followed.

"Yes." You answered. "I've bothered you guys long enough."

"Stop it, woman, you don't bother us at all." He laughed. "But what are you going to do when you get to the island?"

"I still don't know." You sighed. "I can get a job somewhere there, I just know I'm not going back to the life I used to live."

It was clear to everyone that he was very worried about what would happen to you after you left the ship, in addition to being upset with the fact that you two would probably never meet again after the next day.

You continued to look at him, noticing that he was slowly approaching you. You knew you had to move away, but his gaze seemed to have you trapped.

You tried to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat, your heart was pounding in your chest when you had him so close to you.

"What can I do to make you staw with me?" He asked in a low murmur.

You were caught off guard, not expecting him to say that. You had to admit it was tempting, but you didn't want to be dead weight.

"W-what are you talking about?" You asked, failing to try not to stutter. "What would I do here? I'm useless."

"No, don't say that." He said. "We can find something you can do, but what can I do to make you stay?"

You smiled, happy to realize that your feelings for him were reciprocated.

"I want you to say you love me." You asked in a sweet tone of voice, trying to contain yourself as you looked at his lips.

He moved even closer and wrapped his arms around your torso, continuing to look into your eyes and approaching his face from yours.

"I love you." He whispered, without waiting another second, he kissed you lovingly.

You kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his body, looking like you would never let him go.

After what seemed like an eternity, but not long enough, you broke the kiss, almost in the same second hugging him and laying your head on his chest.

"I love you too."

You weren't going anywhere the next day, you had finally found your place.