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#edited to add the fic name
iindigoeyed · 6 months
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saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!
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I've seen a handful of those 'what do you use to write your fics?' polls/questions and every time they never list how I do it. I'm starting to wonder if its so out of the box its the the equivalent of writing out your grocery list in your car on an old McDonald's napkin with a broken colored pencil. Which I only bring up because that is how I write my grocery lists almost every time. (The pencil is blue)
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rosyjuly · 9 months
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Since you were the master of this during the kinkmeme: ✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously? - grid
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i think during the KM the answer turned out to be: they wouldn't be able to! i mean, there are a few technical giveaways: my allergy to capitalized titles, usually one (1) fun tag, explicit one shot between 3k and 10k, but i don't think my writing is very distinct or recognizable. you probably can't tell right away that i'm an ESL writer because my wonderful betas weed out my weird phrases, but it probably contributes to my lack of Style™. (also i switch between british and american spelling on what i think looks better. how vain.)
i've been told one consistent thing about my writing is the tension in it. so if you're reading something where the narrator is having somehow the worst day of his life, ever, even while there's something FUN going on (they're getting railed within an inch of their life by someone who adores them), then arrest me officer!
the fun answer is that men's tits are described in detail and they're also being sucked on. in detail.
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ujunxverse · 6 days
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soap shimkongz ver is also up on ao3 :]
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dotcie · 5 months
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Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game
🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
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targkso · 11 months
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COMPLAINING ABOUT THE FIC (that I am willingly writing) IN THE TAGS.
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end-otw-racism · 1 year
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End OTW Racism: A Call To Action
A fan protest against the lack of action from the OTW on addressing issues of harassment and racism on AO3 and within the organization
This is a Call To Action for Fans of Color and Allies
AO3 has acknowledged that they have a harassment & racism problem that its parent organization, the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), needs to address. Currently, people can use AO3 to harass others through fanworks, comments, and tags. Just a few examples include: racist Untamed “spitefic” that used anti-Indigenous slurs and was written specifically to lash out at fans of color; a Transformer fic that used its Black-coded character to reenact George Floyd’s murder in July 2020; someone naming a fandom scholar who criticized their Nazi omegaverse fic in the tags of the fic specifically to incite harassment to the scholar; writers using racial slurs against commenters who pointed out racism in their hockey fic; and so much more.
In June 2020, after the murder of George Floyd, the OTW committed to addressing these issues. It has been nearly three years and they have not yet implemented any of the changes they promised, other than a blocking/muting tool that was already in development before 2020. We need to hold the OTW accountable to their own promises. (See the section further down on “Why Are We Doing This” for even more detail.)
As fans, together, we are powerful. We are organizing to protest the lack of action on promises made by the Organization for Transformative works to deal with issues of racism and harassment on their platform, Archive of Our Own.
We call on fans to do any or all of the following actions any time between May 17 to 31, 2023 to send a message to AO3 and OTW that we will hold them to their promises.
On AO3
Change the title of ten (or more!) of your most recent or most popular fanworks to include ‘End Racism in the OTW’ in the beginning, and provide a link to this post in your summary or first/top creator’s note
Post a new fanwork any time between May 17th to 31st with “End Racism in the OTW” either as the title or at the beginning of the title. The fanwork does not have to be long - it can be a 100-word fic, a quick sketch, a podfic of a ficlet, a 20-second vid/edit, a short piece of meta, etc. In the summary or first/top creator’s note, provide a link to this post
If updating any WIPs with a new chapter, add ‘End Racism in the OTW’ to the title and provide a link back to this post in your summary or first/top author’s note
Update your AO3 icon using the profile pic graphic in our Social Media Toolkit
Plan to maintain these changes until May 31, 2023, or longer if you wish
Send a message to the OTW asking for an update on their 2020 commitments!
For Readers: leave encouraging comments on fanworks with the "End Racism in the OTW" title to show your support of this initiative.
On tumblr
Reblog this Call to Action with the tag #End OTW Racism
Update your profile pics and banners using the graphics in our Social Media Toolkit
Follow this account for updates and signal boost our posts
On Twitter
Follow @/EndOTWRacism (remove the backslash) and signal boost our pinned tweet
Update your profile pics and banners using our graphics, and change your display name to include #EndOTWRacism
Use sample tweets and graphics from our Social Media Toolkit to tweet about your fanworks, and use the hashtag #EndOTWRacism
Help us make this a long-term campaign - sign up to help with other anti-racism projects and future actions!
What Do We Want?
Since their June 2020 statement, OTW has been working on updating their Terms of Service (TOS) to address racist and bigoted harassment, but with little transparency and only the vaguest of updates. It has been three years since their commitment to this update - we want to see the results of their work implemented in the next 6-12 months. Their TOS updates and complementary policies should include:
Harassment policies that can be regularly updated to address both on-site harassment and off-site coordinated harassment of AO3 users, with updated protocols for the Policy & Abuse Team to ensure consistent and informed resolutions of abuse claims
A content policy on abusive (extremely racist and extremely bigoted) content; by abusive, we are talking about fanworks that are intentionally used to spread hate and harassment, not those that accidentally invoke racist or other bigoted stereotypes
These points are not particularly new and are not our own innovation; please refer to Stitch's article written over two years ago, asking for several of these very things.
OTW has also already committed to various process-based actions for longer-term works towards centering antiracism, including hiring a Diversity Consultant. The last update that OTW published said that the consultant would be hired within the next five years (after already having had three years to work on it since their original commitment). That is not soon enough. We want to see the following process-based actions implemented:
Hiring a Diversity Consultant within the next 3-6 months
Committing to a policy of transparency on this topic, with quarterly updates on the progress of these projects including challenges and their plan for overcoming those challenges. These quarterly updates should be published on OTW News page and newsletters, not solely discussed in Board meetings
Why Are We Doing This?
16 years ago, Astolat famously published her manifesto calling for a fandom Archive of One’s Own. In that time, AO3 has grown to be a central pillar of fandom, likely far outstripping its founders’ original vision. It is more than just an archive now; it is a central hub of the modern fannish experience. AO3 and the OTW must continue to grow and evolve with fandom over time to remain a healthy and functioning pillar of fandom. To that end, there are several areas in which the organization, as it admits itself, is lacking.
In June 2020, in the wake of the George Floyd protests and the uprising of the Black Lives Matter Movement, The OTW published a “This Week in Fandom” referencing the works of Dr. Rukmini Pande and Stitch, among others in which they discussed ‘making change for a better society’ through ‘conversations about race and racism’. In response, Dr. Pande and Stitch submitted a letter to the OTW calling for a more formal public statement than an offhand reference in a News Roundup that only served to call for thoughts and discussion without any indication the organization intended to do anything, policy wise, to address the issues being raised.
Eventually, the organization did remove the references to the works of Dr. Pande and Stitch and then made an official statement on the issue of racism within the organization and AO3. In it, they identified several things they would be prioritizing to combat harassment and benefit users. Some of those have been implemented (notably those that were already under development). However as of this writing, little else has been done especially in regards to:
Improving admin tools for the Policy & Abuse team
Reassessing the current mandatory archive warnings with the possibility of implementing others
And, most importantly, reviewing the Terms of Service (TOS) to allow the Policy & Abuse team to address harassment that is currently not covered by the existing TOS
By their own admission, the current tools and policies of the OTW are not sufficient to deal with issues of harassment and racism.
Several people who were involved in the founding of the OTW, including previous OTW Board members and staff on the original OTW Content Policy Committee, acknowledge that the founding of the OTW in 2008 and early board iterations failed us as a fandom by not doing enough, and by not even considering the way racism is perpetuated in fannish spaces, despite a long history of racism in fandom.
It has been nearly three years since the original commitment by the organization with little visible, measurable progress on these three crucial issues and a complete lack of transparency on where they are in regards to even beginning to deal with these issues. In fact, in Q&As, it was heavily implied by a member of the board that those calling for OTW to deal with issues of racism (which OTW had already acknowledged as a problem!) were not really fans but outside agitators.
This has cast significant doubt on the organization's sincerity and commitment to their stated goals, and on their position as leaders of a central fan tent-pole. Fans of color are not outsiders. They are right here, members of our community, and they are being harassed and targeted and driven out while space and platforms are being given to racists.
We, as fans of color and our allies, find the current state of fandom and current actions (and lack thereof) unacceptable. Fandom is our space, all of ours. We, as a fandom, have a right to a racism-free space and have a duty to our fellow fans to create that space. Unlike so much of the world, this is a space we can control and make better. It is a space we must make better. To read even more about this movement, visit our FAQs.
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strang3lov3 · 1 month
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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fff777 · 1 year
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Trying so hard to not need a name for an OC and then realizing that I have to give them a name when I'm close to the end X'D
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aurorasulphur · 4 months
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Disclaimer: none of these answers are official, and may not work for your particular use case. If there is a specific feature that an unofficial app had that you don't know how to replicate on the AO3, let me know in the notes and we might can crowdsource a solution.
A lot of people used the Archive Reader app to access stories on Archive of Our Own, and have been upset that the app is now charging to read longer than an hour a day. AO3 (and its parent organization, the OTW) has made it extremely clear in recent days that this app is unofficial and that there *is* no official app. They encourage people to use the website.
However, there are MANY reasons you might want an app, and in a bunch of those cases, there are ways to do those things without having to provide your login information to a random person running an app. Here is a round-up of solutions to the most common reasons I've seen people give for wanting an app instead of the plain AO3 website.
These solutions are based on the following assumptions:
You know what Archive of Our Own is
You often or primarily access it through a mobile device running iOS or Android
You understand what a browser is
You understand what a browser bookmark is
You understand what a site skin is
Edits:
Edited to clarify that you must be logged in to use custom site skins
Edited to add more tips and tricks from the reblogs
Edited to add new entry about notifications/emails
Edited to add new entry about reading statistics and the tracking thereof
I need a widget on my phone's homescreen, not just a browser bookmark.
You can do this with any website, not just AO3! Instructions here: https://www.howtogeek.com/196087/how-to-add-websites-to-the-home-screen-on-any-smartphone-or-tablet/
I need Dark Mode.
AO3 has a default site skin for Dark Mode, it's just called Reversi. Find it here, or at the bottom of any page on the website. https://archiveofourown.org/skins/929/
If you'd like Dark Mode on your whole browser (and you're on Android), sorrelchestnut has advice here: https://www.tumblr.com/sorrelchestnut/737869282153775104/if-you-want-dark-mode-and-dont-want-to-mess
I need to be able to read stories when I don't have internet.
Every work on the AO3 has a download button, so you can click on that and download the story for offline reading in the ereader app of your choice. More info on how to do that is in the AO3 FAQs: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/downloading-fanworks?language_id=en#accesslater
I need to be able to change the text size of the website itself.
If you have an AO3 account (and you should!!) you can do this with a personalized site skin! There is a simple tutorial here: https://www.tumblr.com/ao3skin/667284237718798336/i-have-a-request-if-you-dont-mind-could-you
I need to be able to change the text size in downloaded stories.
My personal recommendation: Don't download in PDF format. All the other formats you can download in can scale the text size up and down, assuming you open the work in the correct app. For me, I download works in EPUB format and read them on the built-in Books app on my iPhone. I hear good things about Moon Reader on Android as well.
I need to be able to replace Y/N in fics with an actual name.
ElectricAlice has a bookmarklet for that here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34796935
I need to be able to save specific tags and not have to search them up every time.
If you have an AO3 account (which you definitely should) then you can favorite up to 20 tags which will appear on the landing page. The AO3 FAQ explains how that works: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/tags?language_id=en#favtag
I need to be able to save specific filters and be able to apply them to any tag.
Reisling's beautiful bookmarklet has you covered: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33825019
I need to be able to permanently hide certain tags.
The best option is adding this to your site skin. (Must be logged in.) Instructions here: https://www.tumblr.com/ao3css/719667033634160640/how-to-permanently-filter-out-certain-tags-on-ao3
I also hear things about the AO3 Enhancements extension (just for Android/desktop, sorry iOS folks): https://www.tumblr.com/emotionalsupportrats/686787582579851265/browser-extension-everyone-on-ao3-should-know
I need it to save my place on the page and not reload.
This is really mostly a browser error--Firefox on iOS does this to me A LOT. Your best bet is to download the work and read it in an ereader app. A lot of people also will make an ao3 bookmark and write in the notes section which part they were at, but that assumes you aren't falling asleep while reading. (Which is the main reason I have this issue, lol.) For more info on bookmarks, see the FAQ: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/bookmarks?language_id=en#whatisbookmark
I need it to keep track of which stories I've already read/opened/kudos'd.
If you have an account (which you should) then the "My History" page keeps track of every fic you've ever clicked on. No, it isn't searchable or sortable, but it does exist. For fics you've kudos'd, I have yet to find a solution for iOS. For desktop or Android, you can use this excellent userscript: https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/5835-ao3-kudosed-and-seen-history
@the-sleepy-archivist and @inkandarsenic have a solution for iOS here to use userscripts: https://www.tumblr.com/the-sleepy-archivist/737895174683885568/this-is-a-great-guide-one-thing-i-can-help-with and https://www.tumblr.com/inkandarsenic/737827438571192320/the-user-scripts-will-also-work-on-ios-there-are
I need an app because the website's search is terrible.
(I genuinely don't understand this one but I have seen it multiple times so on the list it goes!!) The search bar at the top of the screen is a keyword search. If you'd rather search within a specific field (like title or tag) then you'll want to click on the word "search" at the top of the screen and select Work Search or Tag Search. To search users, use People Search. To search Bookmarks, use Bookmark Search. (If this is you, please tell me what the heck you mean by "search is bad" and how an app helped with this.)
I need to be able to sort stories by date posted/number of bookmarks/alphabetical/etc.
You can do this using the filters sidebar. Pick a tag you want to filter on (like a fandom, character, or relationship) and then click on the "Filters" button. The sidebar will pop out and you can sort and filter on a boggling array of specifics. A good filtering guide: https://www.tumblr.com/saurons-pr-department/718665516093472768/if-there-is-something-you-dont-want-to-see-in
I need to be able to mark stories to read later.
AO3 has this feature built in! If you have an account (which you should) there is a "Mark for Later" option on every work.
Edit: Thispersonishuman reminded me that History and Mark For Later can be disabled, so if you're not seeing the Mark for Later option, check your settings.
I need to be able to listen to stories using text-to-speech.
Microsoft Edge web browser has a built in text to speech function. Supposedly it works on both iOS and Android, but I have not personally tested that. iOS also has a native accessibility feature in settings for text to speech that will work on the Books app, so I assume Android has a similar functionality. A bunch of people in the reblogs have more in-depth Android recommendations here: https://www.tumblr.com/protect-namine/737957194510794752/seconding-voice-aloud-on-android-for-tts-my, https://www.tumblr.com/smallercommand/737884523093704704/i-use-voice-for-tts-on-android-its-got-some, and https://www.tumblr.com/doitninetimes/737869463749263360/for-text-to-speech-on-android-you-can-also-check
I need to have in-app notifications for updates/I can't ever find story updates in among the rest of my emails/checking my email stresses me out.
Set up a separate email address using a free service like gmail, and use that email address JUST for AO3. Then the only emails in that inbox will be your story updates. I use Apple's Mail application for all my inboxes, but it's very easy to use the Gmail app instead, and you could log in to JUST the ao3 email and set it to notify for every email.
(Also as a general PSA: don't use your work, school, or military email as your AO3 email. Just don't.)
I want statistics like how many hours I spent reading, how many words I read, what my most read tags were, stuff like that.
So we've finally hit something that isn't easy and that requires a hell of a lot of manual work. Short version: AO3 does not track this data because they don't want to. (Mostly due to privacy concerns.) The lack of this tracking is a feature, not a bug. You can crunch these numbers yourself, but it will take a hell of a lot more effort, and it's something I personally found is not worth the effort the couple of times I have tried to crunch those numbers. If you are willing to download your history to an actual computer (not a tablet or chromebook) using Calibre, you can get a rough idea of your most popular tags via their tag browser, but it won't play nice with typos synned to a Common Tag (Canonical Tag/filterable tag) like ao3 does. (If anyone has used an app that gave you stats on this, please let me know in reblogs/replies/via ask how that worked because I am very curious.)
I need an app because <other reason>.
The AO3 Unofficial Browser Tools FAQ might cover your use case: https://archiveofourown.org/faq/unofficial-browser-tools?language_id=en If not, give a shout and we'll see what other tumblr users suggest!
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gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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No One Fucks With My Baby
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pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)
description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names
author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3
after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie
“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”
You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 
You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 
“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”
The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 
“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”
Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 
You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 
“Pardon?”
He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”
You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”
“Listen, girl-”
His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 
“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”
“I haven’t finished my drin-”
Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 
“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”
Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 
“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 
“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 
You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 
“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”
You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”
“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”
Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 
“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 
“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”
You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 
“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 
He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”
Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.
Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 
You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 
-
“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 
He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 
“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”
You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”
“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 
“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”
He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”
You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”
You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 
“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”
You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 
“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 
Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”
You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 
“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”
His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”
You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”
“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”
You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 
You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 
“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”
He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”
“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”
“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”
“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”
Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 
“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 
He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”
His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 
You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”
He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”
“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 
He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 
“God, I need you, sweet girl.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.
“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”
You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 
“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 
“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 
Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 
The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 
He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 
“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”
“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 
“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”
He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 
He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.
Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 
“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”
Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”
You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 
“So fuckin’ tight.”
He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 
“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”
He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 
“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”
You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”
“That’s right.”
With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 
Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 
He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 
Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 
You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 
“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 
Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 
Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 
He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 
His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 
“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 
He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.
When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 
You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 
You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 
“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 
“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 
When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 
You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 
“I love you, Joel.”
He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 
“I-I…”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”
Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 
He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 
“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Officially announcing my new series: Careful.
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A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.
'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'
The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.
THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!
(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)
The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.
Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.
Preview Word Count: 1,800
Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.
...
The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 
You had a son. 
… 
When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
“Y/N,” 
He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
… 
You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 
Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 
Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 
He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
You already knew what he was going to say. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You rushed to say. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
… 
He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 
When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 
It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 
It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
… 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 
Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 
But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.
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ao3commentoftheday · 3 months
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Video description: A Firefox user on an Android phone changing their AO3 site skin from Art Deco light mode to Purple Galaxy dark mode by changing their browser settings from light to dark. The video has no sound.
If you want to be able to use a light mode skin during the day and a dark mode skin at night, you can do that! I've figured it out for an Android phone, and it works with both Firefox and Chrome.
[if you change your browser settings to follow device theme, you can have this happen automatically, so that if your phone is light mode then AO3 is light and if your phone is dark mode then AO3 is dark]
If anyone out there has an iphone and can test it, please share your results in the notes!
Instructions under the cut:
To create exactly what I show in the video, you'll be making a total of 3 skins: 1) a light mode skin 2) a dark mode skin 3) a skin that combines those other two skins together
In the links above, you can get both the code for those skins and instructions for applying them on your account. Do that. When you're done:
Edit the light mode skin.
Scroll down to below the CSS box and find the word Advanced and tap the button labelled Show
In the new window that opens up, find the scrolling list called Choose @media and tick off the check box next to handheld and (prefers-color-scheme:light)
Update your site skin.
Do the same for your dark mode skin, but this time select (prefers-color-scheme:dark)
After making those changes to the skins, create a third site skin. You'll need to put some code into the CSS box, so here's a snippet that won't do anything:
#workskin p { font-size: 100%; }
It sets the font inside fics to 100% of whatever your device currently sets it at. If you want the font bigger, change the number to something more than 100. If you want it smaller, change it to a number smaller than 100.
The magic happens when you do this:
Scroll down to below the CSS box and find the word Advanced and tap the button called Show
In the new window, scroll past the media section you used before and find the button on the right labelled Add parent skin. Tap it.
type in the name of your light mode skin and select it
Tap Add parent skin again
type in the name of your dark mode skin and select it
Save your skin
Use your skin
Enjoy!
shoutout to @ao3skin who showed me how to do this for a tiktok video like 3 years ago and I only just remembered this was possible 🤣
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svndaysaweek · 2 months
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You Don’t Even Know My Name, Do You? — {Feat. Minji}
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3.1k words
A/N: Hi! It’s me, back in 6 months! I had the idea for this one since last summer, but never really made it a fic. But now I post it…! It’s a rushed fic, no editing, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors or typos. Thank you @praeluxius for help and advice in making the conversation better and more natural! Thanks for 1.6k followers and most importantly 1k notes for ‘Niche’!!! Enjoy reading this and luv you all…!
******
Subways late at night are dangerous, and you can’t deny it’s because of you. Drunken bodies swaying along the rail, left and right, back and forth, grasping up on their wasted balance not to embarrass themselves by falling on the floor. Less than an hour left from waving away the day, you can tell where others in the train came from—bars, karaokes, or anywhere with entertainment and alcohol. Returning home after having some fun to wrap up the day and live the following day. Victims of society, some say, but that’s what all people are. We work, get paid. Victims don’t get to enjoy themselves, do they? But to be honest, you’re not the one to care for them, the victims, when you’re one of the victimizers.
You’re standing next to the door, the best position to scan the people in and out, empirically certified by yourself. There are quite a few people in the car—only a few seats available and half of the people chose to spare the seats empty. You’re holding onto a steel bar and slightly leaning your weight on it, eyeing thoroughly for your prey. But there’s no one yet to suit your taste, no one looking good and wealthy.
The mechanical female voice informs the next stop and a few dozens of seconds later the train halts for another group of people to be added to your menu.
“Alright, alright! I’m not that stupid to let someone just, like, snatch my purse away, huh?”
You hear a girl talking to her phone, laughing like she just heard the dumbest advice ever. A crop top for her defined belly to be open, relatively baggy jeans hinting the sculpted curve of her hips and full-blown outlines of legs. Within a second that girl has made everyone in the car latch their eyes on her doing nothing.
“What the fuck? I didn’t drink that much tonight I swear, and fuck, even an alcoholic won’t forget his own name,”
The girl, however, certainly looks drunk, sounds drunk, and acts drunk. Her eyes barely stay open, her tongue hardly makes her words clear. You can even smell how much she poured down her throat. It’s becoming more and more fit for your ideal condition.
Her talk goes on for a few more minutes then she puts her phone in her handbag and looks into the dark, mirror-like window. Her blinks become lazier and slower by the second, alcohol weighing her eyelids, but she does her best to stay up. She looks around to shake off the fatigue and meets your eyes, which have been on her since the moment she walked in. Three seconds is enough to make her look away in shyness, but it isn’t enough for her to examine you as her eyes lock with yours again.
She lets her eyes travel down your body to your toes slowly through(in) the window, alcohol erasing the fact that the subway is public. You pretend to neglect as she keeps eyeing you, head to toe several times, and the next stop the stumbly girl is forced to stand next to you by the crowd gushing in. Unavoidable contacts add leads to your eyes awkwardly meeting, which draws out mirrored smiles from each.
“Sorr-oh!”
A slight rattle of the train almost tackles her down but your arms are there to hold her from meeting the floor. 
"Careful, you almost hit your head, could have ended up like our friend over there." You nod and gesture at old man asleep at the other end of the carriage
"He looks peaceful though."
"You think you can stand up by yourself now?"
"Of Course! I'm not even that drunk."
"The last time my friend said that, he ended up face down in a bush." As soon as you’re done talking she stumbles again to her embarrassment. And of course you keep her standing.
"So you didn't catch him?"
"He's not as cute as you." She laughs and blushes, palm on her mouth and the tone a bit too high for a laughter in a subway. 
“Where do you live?” Change of topic, and you’re surprised that it’s her asking you, not the other way around as it used to be.
“Two stops before the terminus.” She checks where the train currently is, and stares at the map for a few dozen seconds as if her brain is still soaked with drinks, before looking back at you and pointing to the map.
“I’m getting off two stops later,” She blushes again, this time there’s even an awkward smile on her face. As if trying to say something shameful.
“And…” Her fidgety fingers dig into the arm of your shirt and her eyes are fixed on your shoes to never climb up. “And?” You repeat her, grin on your face because of her being so bashful and how overt her real intention is.
“And my name’s Minji by the way. Kim Minji.” It's trickery. A decoy. You almost burst into laughter but keep it down to a debonair ‘mhmm’ instead, hoping to bail Minji out of her own struggle to let the real words out.
And her phone rings. “No, not yet. Only two stops left. No, I don’t sound slurry at all, thanks. Oh my god, Hanni. I said I’m not that drunk! Yeah, I met a guy and maybe he’s taking me to my place-oh my god.” A brief moment of soberness washes through her body but her face is even rosier than ever. Over her phone you hear a woman shouting ‘hey’s and her name, but soon Minji hangs up. The train halts, and she just rushes between the crowd to get off out of shame but you catch her arm.
“Hey, it’s the wrong station.” She can’t look at your smirking face even facing you, face still red and fumbles the hem of her top. “Sorry for that… That was a total mistake.”
“It’s okay,” Minji raises her head, looks at you. “You’re drunk like hell, and you were going to say that anyways.” She's left speechless for a moment, then she opens her mouth to say something but frowns ignorantly.
“Why are you laughing? I was so embarrassed!” She's overtly trying to act cute and it's so working on you. With drunken red cheeks, slurry, lethargic pronunciation and on top of everything, her mesmerizing face. Even your most prior purpose is being threatened to melt by her exhilarating cuteness. 
“It’s nothing.” But your lips just can’t hide your smile, and there is more than one reason; Minji’s being so clingy, which is what usually happens when alcohol infiltrates people’s brains, and it is an aid for you as always. And when the announcement informs you of the next stop, her babyish grumbles are gone and shyness permeates again.
“So… Are you going to take me to my place…?” You hold out our arms and guide the groggy girl out of the train. “After you.” Minji can’t subdue the chuckles from the dizzy liquor, how sensible you are, at least in her opinion, and the fact that you two are going to stay the night together in her place. 
On the other hand, for you the reasons are somewhat different; it’s because tonight you made it, will see some pennies in your pocket and will be able to keep your stomach filled for a few more days. And she’s completely blind for that, giggling so innocently like what she’d do with her lover.
It must be her first time flirting with a guy. She can’t just follow anybody she likes. It’s dangerous. She can’t just trust anybody because he’s amiable. There could be a vice in his mind, transgressions at the tips of his fingers. Somebody should warn her about this, you think. How paradoxical. Maybe you won’t be doing this for long. But that’s something to worry about later.
All these thoughts pass through your mind in less than a second, and when you look back at her you see the green, innocent girl fluttered with excitement. “Lead the way please.” And she does.
******
“This is my place, it might be a little bit messy but-“ Minji opens the door and you close. “It’s okay. No one cares.” She sounds like the soberness has returned, but when you catch her ridiculously stumbling changing her shoes into slippers, ask if she’s okay, and she answers back that she’s alright, you just find yourself tentative about what’s in your mind.
“Are we going to kiss?” You know it’s a tipsy whim. You know she might not know what she’s doing. But it’s her asking you, not the opposite, she has no one to blame but herself, and you also know that she won’t. So you give it a go.
Her lips feel soft. You kiss her lips in a gingerly manner, eyes closed to focus all your senses to your lips. It feels like forever, but it’s obviously provisional so you do your best to find the perfect angle of your head, the right position of your hands, and the exact moment for your tongue to engage. A brief detach and then smoothly latch onto again, and a several times more, and in no time you two are completely submerged in the sensation, in the atmosphere and the feeling.
You open her lips with your tongue, and the key works so well you don’t even have to put any more effort to meet hers; she’s been waiting for it. When you taste her mouth, the alcoholic air hits your gustation and the olfactory sense—Jesus, how many glasses did she empty?—and you swallow it down to your body. Her tongue jockeys in your mouth, on your palate, around your tongue, everywhere it can reach. She’s so needy that when you try to withdraw for some air her arms lock you up and pull you in for a longer liplock.
But that doesn’t last long, before Minji herself pulls back to breathe.
“Minji,” Gasping, you call her name. She doesn’t respond. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom. It’s tidied up well unlike what she warned you about, but you don’t have any time to be infatuated with how neat her bedroom is, when her hasty tongue knocks on your lips to open up.
She really can’t hold it back as she redoubles the whirl inside your mouth. At this point you’re a bit shocked at how aggressive she has become—or, she might’ve been like this from the very start—but god, what a joy to reciprocate. But this desire is not a genital one, rather more like a sheer indulgence of the feeling itself as if it’s her first time.
“Minji, no one’s chasing you. You don’t have to rush.” Hands on her shoulders you say, in an assuring tone, to the panting girl in front of you. Regardless she dives in yet again, this time her hands dragging her jeans down, totally ignoring what you said. She doesn’t feel sorry, but neither do you when you can in fact enjoy what’s going to unfold.
You find it kinda cute to see that talkative girl in the subway all silent and busy with her hands with heavy breaths. It’s as if you have unbound her from the straitjacket—or the alcohol did—and her actual self inside was in need of some rabid lovemaking. No denial that she’s getting what she wants.
It’s hammy but a pleasure to watch. Her hands move to your top and hastily take it off of you, a sigh when it blocks the kiss. You’re overwhelmed as you take your pants yourself but Minji pulls it down to your ankles. Stepping out of them you push her onto her bed and crawl up to be parallel with her, eyes to eyes. When your erect cock brushes on her tummy she squints her eyes with a flinch. Her nerves are so worked up, whether it be from the intoxication she’s been in for hours or the anticipation. Or both.
“Minji, are you alright?” Her face is so red, her breaths are shallow and her teeth keep on biting her own fist. She just nods, eyes still filled with unrest; in fact you can’t tell if it’s concern or anticipation, but either way it’s your job to relax her. 
And putting her hand off of her mouth and replacing it with your lips is what you come up with as a solution. As if you want to absorb the turmoil out of her. When your tongues meet and intertwine her hands climb up to the back of your head and pull you deeper into the trance. Time passes like that. Minji’s so lost in the sensation, and when you lightly put your hand on her breasts she moans into your mouth. The size is just unblemished for you to leisurely fondle, so you keep doing that until she detaches from the kiss, asks you to take her top off with a coo.
“You look so beautiful. Just relax, Minji.” She bites on your under lip when your hand softly squeezes her breast and plays with her nipple. The pain is an approval you’d gratefully take.
You slide down to her neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and finally to her crotch, peppering everywhere on your way with pecks and licks and making it glisten. And oh, her pussy lips are already glistening—dripping, soaking wet—with her own water, nectar so dense with desire. You glimpse at her and she nods desperately, underside of her lips bitten hard, as if when you latch your tongue on her sex it’ll bleed. 
And when you do she yelps, sharp yet gutty, with her back involuntarily arching upward. “Ah, please…!” Is what follows her scream when you flick your tongue on her sensitive nub. You cherish her response and repeat it, eyeing her facial expressions and enjoying every furrow of her brows, every grasp on your hair and every squish of her thighs on your ears. It doesn’t take a while to reach the point where she loses control of herself. Where she loses her mind and cums with a scream. Your skull gets crushed between Minji’s fleshy thighs and your tongue drowns in her juices gushing into your mouth. It’s too saccharine, too flashy, beyond what you expected from her. 
“You’re so good at that… I’ve never squirted like that before.” Minji looks spent. Chest heaving up and down quickly, eyes almost teary and her tongue barely pronouncing correctly. You climb up again and lock lips with her, letting her taste her own liquid.
“Nngh…” You coat your cock with her prevailing girlcum, scrub it on her entrance a few times and slowly, slowly enter her first with only the head. That summons the clingy girl into her again as her arms lock around your neck and she screams into your shoulder. It’s enrapturing to feel the head of your cock slowly discover deeper parts of her, to hear her material moans permeating into your bones.
“God, you feel amazing!” Is what she says when you are halfway inside her. You withdraw a little bit, and put in even more, to make your entire cock disappear inside her. Her arms almost choke you when she hugs you tighter and shouts ‘yes’s and ‘oh my god’s right next to your ear.
“Minji, I’m going to move. I’m going to fuck you.” You groan. It’s finally the time to unleash everything in you, all too stacked up from the agonizing foreplays. “Yes, fuck me. Make me cum please-oh my god it feels so good!” You’re not going slow at all. The smacking sound is music to your ears, and her moans melt your brain. So you go brainless. Hitting the right spot and making her cry every time. It's soft no more, and Minji finds it crazy. Her arms can't settle down but intermittently darts about on the bed.
“Minji, fuck…” You doubt that she can hear you in the room full of her orgasmic yelps and moans. “Fuck, I love it! So deep inside me, don't stop…!” Her legs flutter, eyes roll back and fingers dig into your arms helplessly when she cums on your cock hard. “God, I can't… I can't-” The girl shyly asking for a kiss is now gone, beautifully degraded to a girl enjoying, loving and getting overtaken by the pleasure teeming into her. 
Overstimulated, Minji wriggles as if the sensations are throttling her. A few minutes you were caring about her more than you, but now your priorities are reset; you’re reminded of your purpose here, it's not for her sake, it's for you. And regardless of her condition you just push in, harder and deeper than each thrust, to the finish line. Her torso is turned red and at some point she's looking into your eyes, those subtle muscles beckoning for you to go for it, to cum.
“Minji, I'm cumming…! Fuck!” You splatter your seed all over her tummy and tits. The icing on the cake, an eye candy you're never going to be tired looking at.
“It was… Incredible.” Minji has a satisfied smile on her face. “Good to know you enjoyed it.” You nestle on the bed next to her, rearranging the wet strands of her hair out of her face.
******
Minji is asleep. Like nothing happened a few minutes ago. Like you're not in the bed with her. That's not an unexpected thing for you. You dress up, wipe your cum off her body. She's so pretty when sleeping, you think to yourself.
But right after that you take her purse; there are a few bucks and a credit card. And in the dressing table you find some fancy jewelry boxes.
It's bad, immoral. It's what you do for a living. Can't say you feel proud but not much of a guilt in your mind either. Maybe a little though. But only for this time. You actually liked Minji. Not that much, but you felt something different. Maybe you two can run into each other someday. And maybe you're hoping that happens, even though you know it won't help you in any ways. You can't explain it but there's something in your mind about what happened tonight. 
But you carry on, find a pen and a post-it, write something down and stick it on her empty purse on the nightstand.
‘You don't even know my name, do you?’
******
979 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 4 months
Text
twin peaks.
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4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog
dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump
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“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 
Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 
“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”
The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.
“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.
“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 
“Really?” Tommy asks. 
“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 
“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 
-
A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 
“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 
“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 
“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”
“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”
“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”
You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.
“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 
“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 
“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 
Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.
“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 
“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 
“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”
“We’ll see.”
-
The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 
Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”
“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.
Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”
“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”
“My new friend?” 
“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.
“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 
“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 
“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 
“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 
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—---you—--
Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 
When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”
“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 
“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 
One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 
Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 
Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 
“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”
“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 
“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.
“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 
Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 
“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”
-. . .-
Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 
Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 
“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 
You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 
“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 
You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  
“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”
Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 
“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.
“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel
“NO,” Joel barks. 
-
Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”
You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 
You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 
“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 
You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 
“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 
You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 
-
Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 
“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 
You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 
He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.
Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.
“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.
 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 
You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper
“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 
“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”
Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 
“Wait,” you whisper.”
“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 
You shake your head no. 
“Good,” he whispers. 
Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 
“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 
“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 
Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 
“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 
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---a few weeks later—
"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.
"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.
"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."
"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.
"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 
"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"
He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."
You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  
"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 
"Oh yeah?"
Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 
"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."
"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 
You look away shyly.
"What's got you all flustered?" 
"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 
Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."
"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 
"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."
You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 
Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 
Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 
“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”
“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 
“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 
"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 
----
When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 
“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 
“You were serious?” you ask. 
“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 
Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 
Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 
Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 
You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 
“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 
“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 
Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”
“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 
-
In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”
You nod and smile. 
“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 
Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 
With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 
You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 
“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 
“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 
You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”
You nod, “Yeah.” 
“He’s ready too.”
Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 
“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.
“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 
“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 
Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 
You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”
“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”
You whimper and nod. 
“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 
“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 
Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 
“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 
Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 
“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.
You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 
===
Thank you for reading!
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koqabear · 9 months
Text
Addicted To You
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♡ continuation of Take It! but can be read as a stand-alone.
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“It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen either Beomgyu or Taehyun, away for a business trip like always— after three weeks without seeing them, they’re eager to show you how much they missed you.”
beomgyu x fem!reader x taehyun
Genre: fluff, smut, porn with no plot. at all. 
Word count 4.7K
warnings: barely edited, poly relationship but no mxm…they’re chaebols for those who don’t know, gyu is kinda bratty, it’s literally just smut
smut warnings: dom!tae, dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, threesome, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, pet names, (baby, pretty, sweetheart, etc.) dry humping, marking, praise, degrading, manhandling, breast play, mocking, exhibitionism, oral (f & m rec.) slight masturbation, handjob, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, (m. rec) slight dumbification, mentions of safe word, dacryphilia, creampies, aftercare (lmk if i should add anything!)
Notes: didn’t rlly think i’d commit to this, but take it holds a silly little place in my heart bc it was the first fic to help me gain traction on my dying blog 😭 (no, there were no other reasons as to why i wrote this tf) 
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Study sessions with Taehyun usually go well— he’s a great teacher, and is able to guide you through even the hardest concepts with ease; usually, you end study sessions with no energy at all, more than ready to sink into your bed with your arms wrapped tightly around him. 
Usually, you don’t find yourself where you are now— on top of him, your fingers threaded into his hair as you tug him closer to you. 
“Thought you were tired?” He teases, fully enjoying the way you grind against him, needy and reckless as you simply whine at his comment, “What happened to just cuddling, sweetheart?”
“Does it look like I’m in the mood to just cuddle?” you mock, pulling away from his addicting lips with a frown— he simply laughs, playing along as he sends you an innocent look— though there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands are splayed across the small of your back, encouraging the soft rock of your hips by keeping you pressed firmly onto him, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, missed you so much.”
Taehyun’s smile grows wicked; there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans forward to place sultry kisses on your neck, plump lips sucking and biting teasingly as he litters marks on any skin that’s left accessible to him. 
“You missed me, pretty? How much?” he teases, mumbling the words against your neck as his hands slip under your shirt, fingers wandering as he feels the way you practically melt at his touch. The small whimper you let out isn’t lost on him as he bucks his hips up into you, prompting you to answer him with a soft bite to the sensitive spot on your neck. 
“So much. So so much,” you ramble, unable to stop your desperate movements as you grind into him, able to feel the way his cock is already hard and pressed perfectly against you, biting your lip in a pathetic attempt to suppress your sounds, “Couldn’t even call you while you away, you were so busy.”
“Wow, I can’t believe this,” you immediately freeze at the sound of the voice— your eyes are wide open as you turn around in Taehyun’s grasp, mouth agape as you realize that you didn’t even notice the bedroom door opening, much less hear Beomgyu come in as he sits comfortably on the chair in the corner, arms crossed and expression unamused as he narrows his eyes at you. 
“Is he the only one to get a warm welcome?” he pouts, shining eyes almost fooling you into thinking he’s seconds away from tearing up, “You didn’t miss me?”
“Gyu,” you gape, untangling yourself from Taehyun as you attempt to go to him immediately— only to be pulled back by Taehyun, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you flush against him, chin slotting itself on your shoulder as he laughs at the whine you let out, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next week.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits, leaning back in the chair as he lets out a soft tsk, taking in the way Taehyun continues his assault on your neck— you’re weak to his touches as you let out soft gasps, squirming in his grip and inevitably grinding harder against him as a result, “Though it seems you’re busy— I’ll get going then.”
“Beomgyu, ah, wait,” your voice is whiny and pathetic as you call out to him, stopping him in his tracks as he glances back at you— he takes in the way you reach out toward him helplessly, eyes darkening at the way Taehyun continues to hold you close, not planning to let you go soon as his eyes flicker up; they meet Beomgyu’s, and he’s unable to hold back his sly smile as his hands wander under your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your chest before he’s expertly playing with your breasts— the way you cry out from his touches and place your hands on his forearms is amusing, and Beomgyu is quick to catch onto Taehyun’s intentions as he simply huffs out a soft laugh. 
“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, tilting his head as he goes to stand before you— just out of reach, your attempts to grab onto him and tug him closer futile as you simply look up at him with teary eyes, whimpering softly at the way Taehyun begins to rut up into you, “Isn’t Tyunnie enough for you?” 
The nickname has Taehyun rolling his eyes— Beomgyu’s wicked smile of amusement only makes Taehyun more irritated, even more so when you begin protesting that you want him, too.
“It’s not that,” you say, struggling to utter a coherent sentence from the way Taehyun continues to stimulate you, your brain turned to mush from his touch alone, “Just missed you… want you, missed both of you s’much…”
Both men are laughing at your state— your fucked out expression and bruised lips from Taehyun’s harsh bites is enough to have them hooked, and Beomgyu has to take a deep breath in order to keep his hands off you. 
“Our sweet girl,” Taehyun hums, kissing your cheek fondly, a stark contrast to the way he continues to stimulate you, expert fingers tweaking at your nipples while he continues to roll his hips up into you; you don’t seem to notice the moment one of his hands begins to slide down coyly, slipping under your shorts and rubbing your clit teasingly over your panties— you both hiss at the feeling, and Taehyun bites his lips at the feeling of you completely soaking your underwear, “Why don’t you show Gyu how much you missed us, hmm?”
You’re nodding immediately; your hips are canting at his touch, and you can’t seem to get your eyes off Beomgyu, who simply takes you in with hungry eyes, stepping closer in order to cup your cheek, leaning down until his hips are hovering over yours.
“Still such a greedy thing, aren’t you?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper as you simply cry at his words. It’s all too much for you— Taehyun’s body against yours, his soft huffs against your skin, his wandering lips and hands that don’t detach themselves from your body for even a moment— and Beomgyu’s soft hand that caresses your face fondly, staring at you with such pity in his eyes you can’t help but feel small under his gaze, “Can’t even help yourself from touching us the moment we come back to you.”
You don’t bother to refute his claims— because it’s all true, and you don’t bother to feel an ounce of shame from it, not when the two men before you can’t seem to get away from you for a second, either. 
“Are you gonna cum?” Beomgyu asks, taking in the way your movements grow frantic, your mouth slightly agape and letting out streams of moans that only worsen from his question, “So close already? Come on baby, show me how much you missed us.”
Beomgyu’s lips are soft and hungry the moment they crash against yours— he’s held back long enough, unable to control his need to feel you panting and moaning against his lips the second you crash down from your high— your frantic hands grip Beomgyu’s perfectly pressed dress shirt tightly, though he couldn’t care less about it, not when you’re pulling him toward you desperately and kissing him as though you haven’t seen him in years. 
“Shit…” Taehyun groans, fingers drifting down to your clothed slit, face buried into your neck as he laughs breathily— you jolt against him as you feel his middle and ring finger run along your cunt teasingly, feeling your panties stick to you and pressing against your entrance to feel how wet you are— you’re whining softly in embarrassment, though you can’t control the shocks of pleasure that still jolt through you, pulling away from Beomgyu’s lips to burrow into his chest from the sensitivity. 
“She’s so wet,” Taehyun smiles, raising his head to meet Beomgyu’s— the two men feel weak to the way you grow flustered at their words, still shy as ever as you mumble incoherently into Beomgyu’s chest— Taehyun’s hold on you grows slack, but you don’t bother to stand up, still able to feel the way his hard cock throbs against you, weak to the feeling of him under you. 
“Poor thing,” Beomgyu coos, rubbing your back in a way that’s more patronizing than soothing, “Guess we left you alone for too long, hmm? Can’t last this long without us, is that it?” 
Your desperation is endearing to Beomgyu— though it’s something he’ll never say out loud, choosing instead to tease and poke fun at you as he takes in your weak protests and flustered reactions with a deep satisfaction. 
With the two here, you don’t need to move a muscle— not when they can do it for you, allowing them to put you in any position they want as you find yourself laying on the bed, thighs rubbing impatiently as you watch them with wide expectant eyes, waiting for their next move as they hover over you. 
“Won’t you ask how our trip was?” Beomgyu asks, his sweet smile doing nothing to deter your mind from the fact that Taehyun is sinking to his stomach, situating himself comfortably between your legs as he begins to pry your bottoms off— his eyes flicker down to your line of sight, and he’s able to catch the way your panties are soaked through with your arousal, your pretty cunt still glistening from your last orgasm.
“Baby?” He asks again, taking a hold of your chin and forcing you to look back up at him. He’s pouting, petulant as always when he realizes your attention isn’t solely on him, “Eyes on me, baby. Answer my question, won’t you?”
“H…How was your trip…?” you’re trailing off indignantly the moment you feel Taehyun’s mouth on you; it’s warm and messy as his tongue is instantly licking up the remnants of your arousal, your legs twitching at the feeling before he’s throwing them over his shoulders— his grip is bruising on your thighs as he keeps you in place, sucking and licking and moaning against your cunt like a crazed man.
“It was so boring,” Beomgyu says, seemingly unfazed by the way Taehyun is pressed against your cunt, the intensity of it all making your brows furrow and your eyes glaze with pleasure; you’re gripping at the sheets as your mouth falls open, able to feel the way his nose presses against your clit as his tongue enters you smoothly, humming out in satisfaction as the vibrations only make you yelp with pleasure— though, after a moment, you’re able to take notice of the way Beomgyu’s hand has begun to palm at his cock, eyes drinking in even your most miniscule changes of expression as he smiles. 
“Couldn’t stand being away from you for so long,” he continues, glancing back to where Taehyun hums in agreement; he’s raising his head from where it’s buried between your legs for a second, his face shining with your arousal as he sends you a charming smile— you simply whine at the way you feel his fingers teasing your entrance, circling and prodding at it before they’re sinking into you; he’s curling and pumping them immediately, eager to pull out any reactions from you as he aims for all your sensitive spots with ease. 
“Both of us,” Beomgyu adds, watching as Taehyun sends you one last coy look before his eyes fall back on your pussy— your face feels hot as you watch his lips attach themselves to your clit, looking back up at you with innocent eyes as he continues to fuck with you with his fingers, adding a third before you can even process it. 
Beomgyu is as needy as ever as he scolds you to look back up at him— your eyes widen slightly as you take in the way he’s taken his cock out, stroking it slowly and furrowing his brows the moment you begin watching him; you’re reaching up to wrap a hand around him without a second thought, and he’s cursing lowly under his breath at the feeling of your warm hand, pumping him slowly and taking in the way his tip leaks profusely. 
“Thought of you the whole time…” he mumbles, wincing slightly at the way you shift toward him in order to wrap your mouth around him; your tongue darts out to lick at his tip teasingly, doe eyes only enticing him further as he cups your face with a fond look, “I thought of calling you— I had so many nights where I couldn’t sleep, just thought of you…”
Beomgyu can’t begin to count how many times he laid on the bed of his hotel room, eyes screwed shut as he fucked himself to the memory of you— more often than not, he thought of calling your during those times— he thought of sending you a video, a picture, anything that could show you just how much he needed you; instead, he decided to remain patient, to let his energy pent up until he finally saw you again. 
Now that you lay before him, your movements on his cock faltering from the feeling of Taehyun’s tongue against your pussy, fingers hitting all the spots that make your stomach twist up in knots, he’s not sure how he’ll contain himself— three weeks without you was simply a death sentence to him. 
“You should’ve called,” you whine out, your voice weak and shaky as your thighs tighten around Taehyun’s head; he remains unfazed by the action, his soft hair ticklish against your skin as he merely presses himself against you more— the bed begins to rock from how much you squirm from his ministrations, though the way he’s begun to rut into the mattress is also to blame.
“I would’ve helped you, I… ah…!” you’re unable to finish your sentence. Beomgyu’s hand has begun to guide your own on his cock, though you don’t seem to realize it from the way your eyes are screwed shut, your helpless noises growing louder and spurring Taehyun to pleasure you more— you can already begin to imagine the marks his fingers will leave on your thighs from how hard he’s got you, keeping you firmly against him and preventing you from escaping as he leads you to your second orgasm of the night— one of many you can tell, at least from the way the two watch you with dark, hungry eyes. 
You’re a whimpering and weak mess as Taehyun lets you ride out your orgasm; he’s licking up your cum eagerly, enjoying the way you twitch and cry from the overstimulation of it all, your voice already slightly hoarse as you meekly plead Taehyun to stop, please please please, too much…
He only stops when he feels a sharp tug at his hair— though, unlike you, who tries to tug at his roots in a controlled manner to not hurt him, this action is clearly meant to hurt, and he’s already sending Beomgyu a lethal glare as the said man simply smiles back, keeping him away from you as Taehyun winces at the feeling. 
You’re unaware of it all— you’re still catching your breath, your shirt hiked up and exposing your chest, taking deep breaths as your eyes remain shut— you’re especially unaware of the way they seem to be communicating silently, Beomgyu’s grip loosening from Taehyun’s hair as he simply sends him a look, mouthing words that have Taehyun letting out a soft oh. Before you can question it, you’re being moved again. 
“Baby, do you remember why we went on this trip?” Beomgyu asks you, moving you back until you’re almost against the headboard; you’re sitting up, and Beomgyu is right beside you as he smiles, your brain fuzzy as he waits for your answer with bright eyes— his smile widens slightly the moment you begin to mumble incoherently about renewing a partnership with a company— laughing softly, he kisses you, short and sweet as he nods.
“And it went well,” he says, his heart swelling as he takes in the way you slur out a soft congratulations, “So I— Tyunnie and I… were thinking we should celebrate.” 
“Celebrate?” you ask, peering up at him through dazed eyes; his hands have begun to wander, relishing in being able to feel your skin again as he nods.
“Do you trust us, baby?” Taehyun has appeared at your other side; they cage you in, though it doesn’t feel pressuring or dangerous as they wait for your answer with loving eyes. 
“Yes.”
Your answer is immediate— and you mean it, taking in the way the two only give you mischievous smiles in return; before you can process what’s going on, they’re asking you to change positions— Beomgyu currently lays back against the headboard as you hover over him, his clothes discarded as his fingers play with the hem of your tee— rather, their tee, unsure of who’s it might be, but knowing that it’s not your own simply from the way it looks on your figure.
“Safe word?” Beomgyu asks softly, beginning to tug your shirt up before you’re obeying and taking it off; tossing it to the side, you mumble the safe word you all agreed upon, and he’s sending you an endearing smile before he’s tugging your hips down; he hisses softly at the feeling of your warm cunt fluttering around his tip, already able to feel your seeping arousal before you finally sink onto him.
“Fuck, oh shit,” he sighs, feeling the way you stretch around him, much tighter than he remembers as you simply whine at the feeling, “God, did you really miss us this much, pretty girl?”
The way you nod without hesitation has Beomgyu laughing softly; he’s reaching to take your hands, tugging at you until you’re hovering over him, your hands on either side of his head as he pouts softly at you.
“Who’d you miss more,” he begins, his antics nothing new to you as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Me or Tyunnie?”
There’s a right answer here, he mutters, groaning softly as he finally bottoms out inside you, feeling your hips flush against his as he bucks his hips up— whether he’s trying to get you to moan out his name or he simply can’t control himself like he tells you, you’re unsure. 
“Missed both of you,” you whine, and you fall onto him pathetically the moment he bucks his hips up into you roughly, your body jolting up from the motion.
“Really?” he asks, patting your head softly as you nod against him, “Then, do you want Tyunnie to fuck you too?” 
Mindlessly, you nod— then you freeze, feeling as though there’s more to what Beomgyu is asking as you sit back up, sending him a confused look that only makes him smile with endearment. 
“What?” he says, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you come in contact with Taehyun’s bare chest, twisting your head to look back at him— but you’re unable to, only being able to feel his firm chest press against your back, warm hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly as he places feathery kisses along your shoulder, “Since you can never pick between us, why not have both?”
His comment is both condescending and lighthearted— he doesn’t mind sharing, but he knows that mentioning it is always enough to fluster you— and, like clockwork, you tense up, unsure of what to say as Taehyun begins to leave open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, going up, up up until he’s finally reached you ear, placing a kiss behind it before he’s whispering a soft don’t you wanna feel good, pretty? the words barely whispered as you make eye contact with Beomgyu, who was already unable to keep his eyes off you. 
The moment you catch on, Beomgyu lets out a soft moan— he can feel you clench around him, your warm walls fluttering around him and causing him to throw his head back, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure as you simply whine at the sight, feeling the way his cock ruts into you from response. 
“What do you say then, pretty?” Taehyun asks, his scent overtaking your senses from how close he is to you, something you didn’t think you missed as much as you did as you find yourself leaning back against him, your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder as you bite your lip, taking a moment to respond as Taehyun begins littering kisses along your jaw. 
“Yes, please, I want you— want you both, need you both to fuck me,” your words practically have the two malfunctioning— You can feel Taehyun smile against your jaw as Beomgyu’s hips jump up once more, and you allow Taehyun to place one last chaste kiss on your lips before he’s guiding you to lean back down.
You’ve never done this before— you’ve never thought of doing this, but as Beomgyu begins to fuck into you slowly, allowing you to loosen up around him for Taehyun, you realize that this business trip must’ve affected them much more than they let on. 
You tense slightly the moment you feel Taehyun’s tip prod at your full entrance; Beomgyu catches onto it instantly, muttering a soft still okay? against the crown of your head, only giving Taehyun a nod of confirmation the moment you tell him yes. 
“Relax for us, okay?” Taehyun coos, rubbing your skin soothingly and only continuing once he sees the tension leave your body— carefully, he begins to enter you. 
You already felt full enough with either of them inside you— but now, as you felt Taehyun finally slip inside, the three of you letting out pleasured sounds from it, you feel absolutely stuffed. 
“ffffu…. god… why didn’t we try this sooner,” you hear Beomgyu groan, jaw clenched as he focuses on not coming inside you then and there— the way you whine and whimper into his ear is enough to have him shutting his eyes, letting out another groan as he feels Taehyun bottom out, the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other filthy and new, your fingers gripping onto Beomgyu’s shoulder desperately as you will yourself to hover over him. 
Beomgyu looks entirely fucked out; his expression probably mirrors yours, his face flushed and his eyes blown out with lust as he sends you a coy smile; behind you, you can feel Taehyun lean down to press against you, a hand securing itself on your waist while the other supports his weight— his head is buried in the crook of your neck, trying to hide the weak whines he lets out once he finally begins to pull out. 
The moment he thrusts back in, you can already feel tears prick at your eyes— you’re loud and unabashed in your sounds as they finally begin to fuck you, experimenting a bit before they finally find a good rhythm. 
When Beomgyu pulls out, Taehyun thrusts back in— it’s a cycle that leaves you constantly full and weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun’s arm wrapped around your waist, you’re sure you would’ve fallen against Beomgyu already— though moments after, when Taehyun chooses to grab a hold of your hips in order to guide you onto them, you’re doing exactly that. 
“Feels good?” Beomgyu asks, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours, laughing cruelly at the drooly and fucked out mess you’ve turned into, barely able to mutter out a response from how good they’re fucking you, “Such a good girl— shit, ugh— always wanting to make us feel good, taking whatever we give her.”
“You have no idea how much we missed you,” Taehyun mutters against your skin, barely able to continue his sentence from the way you clench around them, your mixed arousals and the sound of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out your sounds, “Had us— ah… fucking bonding from how— ngh, how bad it was.”
The thought is enough to make you laugh— though you aren’t able to, not with the way they continue to fuck you roughly, your back arching from the way Taehyun’s clever hand begins to rub at your clit— you can only whine softly at the feeling, allowing them to toy with you however they’d like as Beomgyu sneaks a hand to play with your breasts. 
“Missed you— missed this,” Beomgyu rambles to himself, and you can feel the way his hips begin to stutter, losing their rhythm and affecting Taehyun in the process, “Just wanted to hear you cute little sounds again, my pretty girl.”
“Our pretty girl…” Taehyun corrects, though it’s only to tease as he feels you tighten around him— you’re close, he can tell, and it only fuels the two men to continue fucking you recklessly, “Can you cum for us, pretty? Wanna feel it, missed seeing you come on my cock, just give us one more, sweet thing—“
His words become foggy to your mind after that, but you can hear him guiding you the whole time you crash down, letting out a loud cry before Beomgyu’s cupping your face and guiding you to his lips, kissing you slowly and taking in your sounds as you practically drool against him— the kiss is messy and you’re barely able to process anything, feeling him bite your lips and run his tongue along your mouth teasingly before he laughs, pulling away to give you one last sweet kiss. 
“Want us to fill you up?” Beomgyu asks, his voice slightly tense as he continues to concentrate on not falling apart then and there; even through your foggy mind, you’re nodding eagerly, teary eyes affecting Beomgyu much more than he’d like to admit as he finally allows himself to cum inside you—you can hear Taehyun hiss softly at the feeling, triggering his own orgasm as the two men whimper at the feeling, unable to stop their cocks from rutting into you, sensitive from the way they continue to rub against each other inside.
You’re warm and filled to the point that it’s already begun to leak out— Taehyun swears that he’s never seen a better sight, and you’re burying your head into the crook of Beomgyu’s neck, mentally rolling your eyes at the way he pouts a soft no fair, I can’t see.
You don’t think you can bring yourself to move after that— lucky for you, you have two strong men to do your bidding— which is exactly why you’re able to find yourself in a warm bubble bath after a few minutes of rest, unable to stop yourself from marveling at the luxury of it all despite being with the two for— well, a year.
“I’m so happy to be back, seriously,” Beomgyu mutters, his head laying on your chest as you simply laugh, running your fingers through his hair fondly, “I don’t think I can be away from you for that long again.”
“Was it really that bad?” you ask softly, slightly embarrassed at how hoarse your voice is; they merely laugh fondly at you, and Taehyun’s arms circle around your waist before he’s pressing himself closer to you— you can feel him nod despite his forehead resting against your shoulder, and you merely roll your eyes at their theatrics, tilting your head back and resting your head against Taehyun’s shoulder, allowing him to slot his chin on your own, “Why don’t you just take me with you next time, hmm?”
“You’d like that?” Beomgyu immediately asks, titling his head back and looking at you with wide, sparkling eyes— you laugh, nodding softly as you watch him smile cutely in return, “You better not change your mind.”
“I won’t,” you muse, smiling at the way Taehyun places a soft kiss on your cheek, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Because despite your doubts, they’ve really proven just how much you mean to them— and as you feel them cuddle closer to you, allowing yourself to sink into the warm water that soothes your sore body, you can’t control the way your heart flutters from the mere way they hold you.
God, you’re down bad.
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