#dd: fanfic

[ddagent]

"my heart is overdue"

Margo/Sergei | Fluff | FR15 | 3,150 words     It's New Year's Eve, 1989, and Sergei is in Houston for a joint mission with NASA. But both Margo and Sergei struggle to contain their feelings as midnight approaches. @gabolange, @h4t08 and @thinkmanythingsofit all wanted a NYE kiss, so here it is! Happy reading - and Happy New Year!

“—I think I went there once before I became Director? All I remember is that the floor was sticky. And there were roaches, too. All these astronauts deep into their beer bottles…” Margo pushed open the door to JSC and held it firm for Sergei to follow her. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go anywhere more…fancy.”

Sergei shrugged; his smile still fixed in place. “You do not need to apologise, Margo. I enjoyed myself. Immensely.”

Margo blinked, raised one eyebrow, but let Sergei’s comment pass. Taking the new head of Roscosmos to The Outpost for dinner on New Year’s Eve had been a bold choice; Emma had certainly had a lot to say about it. She’d offered several other options for dinner, including Nippon. But Margo had held firm. She hadn’t wanted any reservations that would remind her – or Sergei – of their private dinners during the IAC conference. The shared bottle of wine. The non-work talk. The occasional brush of fingertips across the table. No, The Outpost had been the safe option. Surrounded by families and NASA employees looking for a quick burger between shifts, the awkward atmosphere had prevented them from getting closer than the head of NASA and Roscosmos should in public.

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[hellishjoel]

positions

2.4k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

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chapter summary: You and Joel mutually pleasure each other while “researching” porn. 

chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak/TLOU, Joel is a tattoo artist with tattoos and piercings, Joel and reader are in the pre-phase of creating porn together, watching porn together, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (angel, bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pain kink, daddy kink, oral (m!receiving), size kink, fingering (f!receiving), squirting, hair pulling, one (1) pussy smack, pussy and cock pronouns

A/N: this was written as a mini chapter within the cherry thrill series but can be read as a standalone. a hugehugehuge shoutout to @devineconjuring because without her support, I wouldn’t have even thought about sitting down to write this when the creative burst finally hit! everyone thank annie for beta’ing this mini-chapter! divider is by @firefly-graphics!

Eyes glazed over in lust, lips parted, skin warm with desire — both of you. 

You and Joel rest your backs against the headboard of his bed, gazes unbroken, staring at your laptop screen. 

Porn. 

Anal. Amateur. Bondage. Free Use. Hardcore. Softcore. You’re watching the A-Z catalog with your partner. Was this a kink? Because trying to sit next to Joel while watching porn, trying not to get worked up, felt like a twisted game. 

Joel knows you’re turned on. You haven’t stopped squirming beside him for at least twenty minutes. It was agonizing at this point to be so wet, so aching for touch, a deep breath of air nowhere in sight. And it was your stupid idea. 

If you were going to film porn, it was only logical that you see what’s out there and get a sense of what you’d be open to filming with Joel. What was your comfort level? Would you start out by appealing to the amateur audience with limited cuts and genuine passion? Or would you like it more if Joel had all the control, playing into his role of being your dom, and ordered you around like his little cock slut? 

All these videos had you questioning which category you fit in. Even worse, these videos, which were meant to be for research, had turned you on to the point of no return. 

You can feel him looking at you out of the corner of your eye. You’d have to be blind not to notice how hard he’s become in his sweatpants. It’s almost thrilling at this point to see who breaks first. 

Your body shudders as Joel moves to change the video to the next one. Christ, help me. He chooses something from the exhibition category, and you can feel your stomach twisting with desire. 

“You doin’ alright?” His gravelly voice rumbles from beside you, a weak mhmm leaving your lips in response. Your eyes trace over the dark swirls of ink that curve around his forearm and flourish into a larger design on his bicep. You remember the day you asked if it hurt—if the needle pressing into flesh left behind more than just beauty. He didn’t answer; he just shot you a sly smirk, the kind that left you wondering if the pain was part of the allure. 

Joel reaches over, his firm hand squeezing your trembling thigh. It feels like a force of nature, the way you gush harder at the physical contact. You swallow the lump in your throat as you feel his hand move to the waistband of your sweats. 

You don’t move, don’t breathe. Both of your gazes are fixed on the laptop screen, not shifting even when his fingers curl inside your wet panties. He parts your pussy lips, feeling her warmth and arousal soak his fingers. A shaky breath leaves you as one of his fingers slowly circles your swollen clit. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly, your forehead resting against his tattooed bicep. 

“I know,” is all he has to say. 

His fingers dip lower, swirling the tips around your desperate hole before finally sinking in. 

You stare at the video, but it’s like white noise at this point. Neither of you pays attention to the screen, but the blood rushing to your ears forces you to catch every moan and grunt from the partners in the video. 

“Jesus,” you can’t help but pant out. “Please,” you weakly beg. 

All Joel does is tut darkly. “Jesus ain’t here to save this wet pussy, angel, I am. So you better start beggin’ me.” 

As Joel starts to slowly finger your pussy, you realize it’s less about needing to orgasm and more about the process of feeling satisfied together. 

With your head resting on Joel’s arm, you press soft kisses against his tan skin as your hand reaches past the waistband of his grey sweatpants. 

Your touch is electric. You watch as Joel sits up straight beside you once you start slowly stroking his already hard cock–he’s heavy in your hand, your gentle fingertips able to feel all the prominent veins of his shaft. 

Joel’s low groan fills the room, and you know he’s struggling to keep himself from ripping your panties down your legs and getting his fill of you. 

But that’s not the game you two are playing. 

Your hot breath fans across his skin as he crooks his fingers to just the right spot within your cunt, the feeling unexpected as he stretches your sweet pussy. The sensation forces your hand to squeeze Joel a little harder, a distinct growl of both pain and pleasure fueling his ministrations. Once again, you’re reminded that pleasure protects you like a shield, and pain is the only thing that can penetrate it. Pain doesn’t just hurt Joel. It transforms him.

“I wanna bend you over like that,” he admits, his tongue playing with his lip piercing out of habit. Your hazy eyes slowly flick from Joel to your laptop. The video has changed again. The man in the video currently has a housemaid bent over the kitchen counter, doing whatever he pleases to her, while his wife sits in the dining room simply flipping through her newspaper and drinking her coffee. 

You’re not as good at this as Joel is; you can barely speak as he pleasures you. “W-We’d get caught,” you breathe out, your hips grinding against his fingers as his thumb starts to work over your pearl. 

Joel hums darkly, shifting a third finger into your entrance. It’s a burning stretch, one that forces out a low whine from deep in your throat. Your touch all but abandons Joel, his jaw tightening as you remove your hand from his swollen cock. 

You stare deep into his dark eyes as you lick a slow stripe up your palm, excess saliva trailing down your hand before you return it to his aching member. 

“Fuck,” he pants, his head falling back to rest on the headboard with a hard thud. He doesn’t fucking care. The pleasure outweighs the pain. 

“Come here, baby,” Joel instructs as his fingers exit your warmth. 

You whine like a brat but follow his instructions. He pulls you onto your knees, moving your upper half over his lap and shoving his sweatpants down so his cock is finally free. 

“Use that pretty mouth of yours. Always so perfect for me,” he coos. “Now go slow.” 

His words have you mewling in pleasure, resting your head on his lap as you suckle his tip into your warm mouth. It’s teasing, but you want to go slow, to do what he told you to. You want him to last. 

He pulls your sweats and panties down, your warm pussy and the globes of your ass shocked by the cool air hitting your skin. You let out a needy whimper–he never fails to pleasure you, even while chasing his own release. Arching your back, you put yourself on display for him.

“Keep watchin’ the screen. Good girl,” Joel mutters as he slowly gathers your hair in one fist, lazily dragging your head up and down his cock. He fills your mouth, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Your eyes grow teary, your body flinching as you choke down his length in a desperate attempt to taste his salty finish. Swallowing down as much of him as you can, you bury your nose against the coarse dark hair at the base of his shaft, gulping around his length. Desire ultimately outweighs Joel’s orders for you to go slow, and you begin to suck his cock at your own more eager pace. His grunts of pleasure fill your ears, the grip on your hair only tightening, whatever restraint he has left quickly deserting him. 

Joel is a man whose sexual pleasure derives from control—a fragile dominance that feeds his pleasure. But that control is unraveling, slipping through his gasp faster than he can regain himself. 

“Hey,” he grumbles, yanking you off his shaft by your hair. He slips out of your hungry mouth–you still try to get him back into the safety of your warmth as he reprimands you. A spank to your aching pussy with his heavy hand sends a shockwave of throbbing need across your body, jolting you to life as you let out a whine for him. “I said slow. It’ll feel better the longer you wait, I promise. For both of us.” 

You have to trust him. You know he knows best. 

Swallowing down thick spit, you nod against his grip. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, daddy.” 

That goddamn name. It pulls something from deep inside of Joel, a monster in hibernation that’s hungry for something to cross its path and wake it up. 

And you just did. 

“Good girl.” The grip he has on your hair tightens, and you’re back to stuffing his cock down your tight throat. 

You follow his instructions. The speed is slow, as promised, but every touch feels exhilarating. Your senses are on overdrive. The tingling in your scalp, the feeling of his two thick tattooed fingers plugging your cunt, his thumb circling your already charged clit–it was all so desperate to unfurl. 

You can feel Joel pulsing inside your mouth, ready to gush like a volcano on the verge of eruption. You trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue, his precum adding a layer of tanginess to your tastebuds. 

You weakly moan against him, trying to force out as much excess saliva as you can. It drips down all his inches and coats the hair on his balls. Your arousal leaks down his fingers. The woman in the video lets out strangled moans from the kitchen counter, and finally, the man’s wife takes notice of the two fucking on the counter. She acts shocked, catching them both in the act. 

Joel wins. 

You cry out against his cock and tighten the suction you have on his shaft, slurping and letting out lewd sounds as you quicken the pace of your mouth. You ignore the pain in your jaw and neck, eager to taste his salty release. Joel must agree that the game is up because his hand no longer guides you–he simply pumps his fingers faster inside your desperate cunt. Your hips drive back against his hand, the heel of his palm adding extra friction to your clit. 

“Goddam, you wanna choke on it that bad? Fill your mouth up, wishing it was your pussy? Listen to this good little pussy purr,” Joel moans out as he massages the spongy walls within your cunt, and you can already feel your stomach begin to spasm. 

You gluck gluck gluck around his dick, mouth filled with so much of him that it makes you light-headed with lust. He rips you away from his cock, but only for a moment, a rush of air filling your lungs as he lays your head on top of his thigh. Your eyes are wild and lost, desperate for one thing and one thing only. 

“Tell me,” Joel demands, the veins in his neck pulsing as the crease between his eyebrows deepens. “Tell me what you are, what you want.” 

You whine something pathetic as Joel’s fingers only quicken inside your cunt. “Fuck!” you cry out, your entire body shuddering over his lap as you keep stroking his sticky cock with your hand. 

He makes you admit your thoughts, your sexual desires, and everything you're thinking out in the open. It forces you to be vulnerable with your sexuality–something that doesn’t come easy for you, but Joel willingly helps you navigate. 

If you want to finish, you need to spill your secrets and fantasies. 

It surges like a headrush, electric along your spine and needy for him as you find your words. 

“I-I’m such a fucking slut for your cum, Joel, please baby, I wanna taste you so bad,” you stutter and slur as Joel hums approvingly. His thumb wipes away a stray tear, something comforting and warm in the way he praises you for trying. You feel your orgasm working its way up through your bones, through the heat in your stomach, until it slips down your spine. “I-I wanna feel it down my throat, I want it to be my last meal, I- fuck, I feel so fucking dumb with your cock in my mouth. I worship him.”

Joel’s hanging onto every word, his chest pumping with the added fuel to his ego. His jaw clenches tighter and tighter, teeth gritting as he groans your name at the praise.

“Christ,” he mutters, enamored by your words and how pretty you look with his precum and your saliva glistening on your lips. “Such a good girl for me, so fuckin’ perfect.” 

Something different pools at the base of your stomach, something you don’t fully understand, but it’s familiar. You whimper in embarrassment because it almost feels like you need to pee, but you don’t, your thighs getting splashed by something more than an orgasm, and Joel really fucking likes it.

“Oh god, d-did I-”

“Yeah, bunny, you fuckin’ squirted for me,” Joel growls as he drags you back over him. 

You’re slurping at his cock, and it doesn’t take long for you to both reach the orgasm you’ve been holding out on while watching this damn porn. 

Glistening tears flow down your cheeks, your brain dumb with pleasure as the euphoria finally floods the tight clench in your stomach. Your release pools down Joel’s fingers, his own more desperate and needy as he shoots white-hot spurts down your throat. You moan against his shaft and roll your head from side to side, nose buried in the thick hair of his happy trail as you swallow around his cock like he taught you. 

Joel groans out in pleasure, your tongue still lazily lapping around his shaft. “So fuckin’ good, that was so hot, baby. Jesus Christ.” 

He strokes your hair, and you both slow to nothing, feeling like you’ve run a marathon. His fingers stay buried inside your wasted cunt, your wet mouth weakly panting against his warm thigh. Joel reaches forward and closes the laptop. 

“Did you… did you see any positions you liked?” 

You don’t respond right away. You know he’s talking to you, but it takes a few moments for it to register. 

“I think… I’ve got a few ideas for our debut.” 

Joel chuckles tiredly, laying his head back against the headboard once more.

“We’re really doin’ this? We’re gonna make porn?”

You sigh weakly and find the strength to sit up, facing the weathered look Joel is sporting. You give him an innocent smile as you wipe your chin with your forearm. “That’s right, daddy.” 

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[sweetmapple]

2 chairs in the bar now, rejoice

[cryinganabell]

Devilish Wedding summary

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

DADDY DRABBLES MOODBOARD

SUMMARY: This Drabble series contains of small scenarios of them being a family from reader giving birth to baby's first words and them adopting pets and much more.

PAIRINGS: Husband JK X wife READER

WARNINGS: SMUT, FLUFF

IN COLLABRATION WITH @ahgasegotarmy116 🩷

A/N: hey guys! I hope you all would like this drabble series Thankyou to @ahgasegotarmy116 to continue when I thought this would go no where SO i plan on releasing twice a month, Requests for this family is always opened ;) Thank you so much for 550 followers I'm thankful for each one of you <3.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN, COMMENT DOWN AND ILL ADD YOU

SOME DRABBLES MIGHT CONTAIN SMUT PLEASE BE AWARE🔞

DRABBLE ONE: Where the reader gives birth and Jungkook won't stop panicking.

DRABBLES TWO: In which you give your daughter an important life lesson

[ddagent]

"it's a long road back"

Margo/Sergei | Gilded Cage Verse | FR15 | 3,803 words     Two years after they were dragged back to the Soviet Union, Margo and Sergei return home on Christmas Eve. Part of the Gilded Cage 'verse. Happy Holidays to all! I hope you enjoy. Title is from 'I'll be Home for Christmas'.

It was Christmas Eve and the Soviet Union had fallen three days ago.

The cracks had been evident for some time. Restricted information. A slew of new guards at Star City. Irina in meeting after meeting – no doubt trying to ensure her position in the new regime. There had been demonstrations of strength, with armed police on the streets and tanks gathering in city centres. The regime, in their desperation, had even opted for a demonstration of success on the global stage. At the IAC conference in October, Roscosmos had presented their plans for the first manned mission to Ganymede, announced by two defectors wholly loyal to the regime. With Mars lost to the corporations, and the Goldilocks mining operation losing public appeal, everyone wanted the opportunity to be first. Margo still remembered the note pressed hastily into her hand by a departing Aleida. Still remembered the boot pressed against Sergei’s throat as Irina’s men made sure they knew exactly who held the key to their cage.

But houses crumble. Regimes fall. And if you kick at the cage door long enough you can make your escape. So now, three days after the fall of the Soviet Union, Margo Madison and Sergei Nikulov were back in London. One last stop before their return to Houston.

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[hellishjoel]

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air. 

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.  You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M. 

Joel Miller. 

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes. 

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over. 

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension. 

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist. 

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor. 

Virgin. 

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings. 

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind. 

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit. 

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs. 

You shakily exhale as he warms you. 

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job. 

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck. 

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk. 

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it. 

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity. 

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity. 

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings. 

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur. 

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed. 

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless. 

“I think so.” 

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it. 

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time. 

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you. 

But thinking about him wasn’t enough. 

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin. 

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment. 

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him. 

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.” 

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care. 

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office. 

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office. 

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him. 

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning. 

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office. 

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression. 

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you. 

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.” 

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline. 

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.” 

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper. 

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence. 

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips. 

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip. 

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.” 

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong. 

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight. 

You’ve never seen a man so hungry. 

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils. 

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point. 

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind. 

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush. 

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words. 

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows. 

“You- what?” 

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk. 

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop. 

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine. 

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak. 

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin. 

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk. 

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along. 

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his. 

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs. 

“No, definitely not.” 

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”  

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.” 

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.” 

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk. 

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke. 

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties. 

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn. 

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it. 

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.” 

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look. 

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile. 

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does. 

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine. 

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking. 

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.  

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.” 

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back. 

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him. 

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again. 

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps. 

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs. 

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze. 

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are. 

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.” 

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it. 

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk. 

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants. 

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.  

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.” 

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes. 

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him. 

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one. 

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes. 

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him. 

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well. 

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards. 

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger. 

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey. 

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk. 

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.” 

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk,  dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him. 

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions. 

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you. 

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this. 

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss. 

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey. 

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.” 

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers. 

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance. 

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure. 

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously. 

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too. 

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head. 

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.  Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him. 

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.” 

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please. 

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth. 

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows. 

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth. 

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor. 

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw. 

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish. 

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you. 

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps. 

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth. 

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight. 

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy. 

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine. 

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does. 

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm. 

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance. 

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided. 

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like. 

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp. 

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights? 

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more. 

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good. 

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment. 

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently. 

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second. 

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him. 

Now you’re really aching for him,  wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria. 

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now. 

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips. 

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it. 

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside. 

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?” 

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him. 

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach. 

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips. 

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot. 

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared. 

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin. 

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve. 

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.  

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers. 

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern. 

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.” 

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit. 

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously. 

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him. 

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds. 

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine. 

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time. 

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing. 

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile. 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution. 

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases. 

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.” 

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls. 

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper. 

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you. 

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features. 

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body. 

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt. 

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full. 

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal. 

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. 

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.” 

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions. 

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear. 

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep. 

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to. 

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.  

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.” 

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off. 

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands. 

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction. 

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt. 

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more. 

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own. 

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions. 

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you. 

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest. 

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond. 

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison. 

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you? 

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name. 

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm. 

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.” 

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you. 

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light. 

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers. 

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven. 

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths. 

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves. 

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his. 

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp. 

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp. 

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you. 

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm. 

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom. 

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze. 

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any. 

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy. 

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces. 

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet. 

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.  

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. 

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile. 

“Or your tongue?” 

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug. 

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.” 

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers. 

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin. 

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already. 

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-” 

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water. 

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops. 

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk. 

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens. 

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle. 

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo. 

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.” 

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.” 

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients. 

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.  

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins. 

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.” 

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard. 

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.” 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution. 

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back. 

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process. 

Joel sighs. 

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this. 

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him? 

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him. 

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back. 

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.” 

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused. 

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.” 

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller. 

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title. 

The Obsidian Gallery 

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller. 

next chapter ->

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

Just some horny thoughts about Steve fucking you deep

Steve’s face was buried into your neck, his breathing laboured as he peppered kisses to a hammering pulse point. You can barely catch your breath, nails digging to the muscle of his back. He groaned, biting at the hollow of your throat, his hips grinding into yours. You mewl, trying to get more friction, but he has you pinned, at his mercy. “Fuck, you feel like velvet.” Steve mumbles, pulling back enough to look you in the eye. His pupils took up the majority of his irises, leaving pools of black. “M not done with you yet. I want at least two more.”

You’re beyond sensitive, but Steve doesn’t care. He wants you boneless and brainless, a drooling doll just for him. “You can do that for me, can’t you, baby?”

[wisecrackingeric-2]

Serennedy Pride Week wrap-up inspired by this post by @/kod23pm!!! PLEASE please click and zoom in on everyone artwork if you can!! ((And also let me know if I’ve missed anyone!))

Artists in order (left to right): @dibukae @pikabysss @resident-silly @sxvethelastdance @euphoriumn @past31bvnn @courtofparrots @alitan99 @thegrimygrim @ekurie987 @crispy-dib @gigi-does-art @phurpurr @buffapeaks-tmblr @losrgeek @troublemakergalaxy @energon-goodies @patos-chan @raccoons-garbage-can @thecapitalistraccooninyourinbox @geddy-leesbian @mooseonahunt @allen-kunekune @mr-kennedys-elf @rainwaterapothecary @gayhorrorboy @kingflups @ruler-ofhottopic @clayderogatory @transgenderrbt @goodpointsandbadpoints @vespereargentum @thouarta @hamartia-grander

Message under cut!

THANK YOU S O MUCH EVERYONE FOR JOINING SERENNEDYPRIDEWEEK AAAAAAAHH!!!!!!!!!!!! There are literally ZERO WORDS I could use to describe how I’m feeling right now other than !!!!!!!! BECAUSE LIKE!!!! Look at all of the art you guys created!! What the hell!!!! I was SO worried nobody would join and now I’m sitting here with sore wrists from putting all this art together!!!

You guys are some of the most kindest, talented, and amazing people in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD and there’s literally nothing I could say that could properly express my gratitude for you guys joining in on this silly event and all the support and just AGDBDHBDHXHSNS YOU GUYS AND YOUR CREATIVITY AND LOVE FOR THESE STUPID GUYS IS SO <<<333 YOURE ALL SUCH INCREDIBLY TALENTED ARTISTS AND WRITERS MAN!! Like it’s honestly getting me a lil emotional with just how talented you guys all are HDNEHXHXJ

I can’t wait for the next big event like this but until then, good luck on your adventures and Thank You for joining <<<<3333

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

SUMMARY: In which you are about to give birth, but Jungkook won't stop panicking.

PAIRINGS: Husband Jungkook X Wife Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNINGS: Childbirth, Screaming, fluff, crying,SO MANY kisses. Dad kook >>>

A/N: Hello all I hope you all are doing good. I thought of releasing the first part as 600+ followers here :0. Also, I'm sry to say @ahgasegotarmy116 won't be collaborating on this series anymore and I'll try to post the drabbles from now. Thank you for the cutest banner @ahgasegotarmy116 and I hope you like the first part of series please like, comment and reblog. <3 ❤️

Sitting in front of the TV and watching your favorite show you start to feel a few cramps here and there. Being nine months pregnant can sometimes be concerning but you had called your doctor a few times to make sure that experiencing things like this was normal he said that you shouldn’t worry too much since they never lasted more than a minute or two. At this point, all they’ve really suggested is that you sit there and wait it out for a few more days until your baby girl decides it’s time to come out. 

Jungkook being the ever-doting yet mildly nervous husband is always ready to drop everything to help you. He massages your feet, helps you take a bath and even helps you shave if you want him to. Even after he’s had a long day at the office. He never complains, he just wants to make sure you and the baby are always okay. 

While he was in the kitchen grabbing you some snacks and making you your favorite chamomile tea you started to feel the baby start moving around but it seemed pretty normal, so you thought nothing of it. Soon though you started to feel a really rough contraction running through what felt like your whole body and leaving your back aching and you letting out a huge groan in response. 

“Shit are you okay? Jungkook asks, running up to you panicking and hands you a glass of water, trying to think of something that might help. You let out another groan in pain and he starts to realize that it might be time. “I think the baby is coming,” I say, trying to stay calm and ride the wave as the next contraction starts. 

I’ll go get your hospital bag and we’ll leave as soon as possible. I’m here okay don’t worry” he says in a hushed tone, doing his best to help me stay calm before he starts running all over the house and makes sure that we have everything that we need. He packs a bag for himself quickly throwing random things he thinks would be helpful and rushes back over and helps me walk out the door. 

“Okay let me help you stand up. One, two, three-” Jungkook says "it's okay I’m not helpless so please stop worrying so much. Let’s just make it there as soon as we can” he nods in acknowledgement and makes sure to help me nonetheless as he walks me over to the elevator that takes us down into the lobby so we can head outside to where our car is parked. He helps you sit down in the passenger seat and closes the door for you before opening the door to the backseat quickly and packing everything into the car as quickly and carefully as he can so we can get on the road. 

He runs back into the apartment to grab a few more things and while he’s gone you let out a few tears just thinking about the fact that the next time you come back here you’ll be bringing your beautiful baby girl home. 

He rushes back to the car a few minutes later with the last few things he had forgotten including your Favorite wool sweater and your warm winter coat. “We’ll be there in a few minutes love, don’t worry everything's gonna be okay” he says leaning over and giving you a quick kiss before sitting back and putting his seatbelt on. “Everything is gonna be okay,” he says more to himself starts the car pulls out of the parking lot and rushes to the hospital. 

Once you reach the hospital that you’ve been going to for all of these months you meet with the nurses take you back to your room and have your husband fill out the forms to check you in. He’s hesitant to leave you but they’re able to complete everything quickly and he runs to the room they’ve put you in immediately and helps you change into the hospital gown they’ve given you before helping you lay down. 

AFTER SOME TIME 

The doctors suggested taking an epidural to ease the pain and your a few cms away from getting dilated. Jungkook sat beside the hospital bed holding your hand and gave soft kisses on the back of your hand whispering I love you and you going to be okay. But deep down Jungkook was afraid and just prayed for a safe delivery. 

Yours and Jungkook's talking resounded in the hospital room when you feel a sharp contraction and you groan in pain clutching his hand Jungkook hurries up calling the doctor and they tell you are ready to push.

"JEON JUNGKOOK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW " you scream your lungs out and grab onto his collar your mouth just some inches away as the doctor and your husband try calming you down. "Baby calm down and just push... we will soon have our baby girl in our arms" Jungkook said drying the sweat forming on your forehead. 

Jungkook tries not passing out and staying with you the entire time while he panics himself and helps you push while the doctor in between your leg tells you she can see the head and tells you to let out more pushes while hardly clutching on your husband's hand and squeezing the life outta him. 

Soon enough soft cry resounds in the room, and you have a breath and collapse on the hospital bed... tears leave your eyes staining your now red cheek "Daddy wants to cut the umbilical cord?" The doctor asks snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts to lost when he sees his baby the nurses hand him a pair of scissors and he cuts it.

Making some space Jungkook removes some of your hospital gowns to allow some skin-to-skin to contact the doctor happily lays down your baby girl while you coo to make her stop crying, Jungkook giggles looking at her and smooths his fingers on her face and bows down towards your forehead and leave a kiss "you did so good baby" Jungkook speaks in between chuckles. 

A few minutes pass by while your baby opens her eyes and coos out the softest voice you have ever heard and you lay a kiss on her cheek "Hi baby" You speak to and she smiles up as if she understands what you are saying "Jungkook here you wanna hold her?" you ask your voice a bit raspy from all the screaming to get this baby girl out, nodding he removes his black t-shirt so he can have skin to skin contact with her and sanitizes his hands, and you pass her to your husband.

"Hi baby, it's me your dad" Jungkook introduced himself while the baby just whined and cuddled herself in his embrace chuckling, after a few kisses and talking to her in a baby voice he handed the baby to the nurses so they could take the baby so they could clean her and get her wrapped in a baby cloth.

In the meantime, the nurses bring in a birth certificate and you both name her Na-Eun the name you both decided after the gender reveal party and get it written on the birth certificate.

Na-Eun arrives in a purple swaddling which makes her look like a sweet potato smiling at the nurse she hands her to you and Jungkook lands a kiss on your face and tells you he will leave for a few minutes and call your parents.

You smile and nod at him and shift a bit so you can keep your daughter beside you, looking closely you notice her soft features resembling Jungkook so much a mole under her lip and a mole on her neck make her more beautiful you tear up a bit. 

“Oh my god…...” A small gasp is imitated by your mom as she stands there with some gifts in her hand and a bouquet in another, chuckling at you she kisses your forehead “You did great baby…. oh and look at this cutie right here” she says softly her own eyes tearing up and your dad stands beside you kissing your cheek. 

Na- Eun is held by her grandmother and grandfather who wouldn’t stop sweet-talking to her and you just wish you could stay in this moment forever and you can’t wait to bring your baby bean home.

A/N: Thank you so much if you made it till the end ill soon post the second part which is them bringing their baby home and how the first night goes :)

MOODBOARD

In which you teach your daughter an important life lesson.

TAGLIST: @kimmingyuswifee @jungk97kwife @jksgirlhere @httpjeonlicious @bunnykoos @ohsweetmimosa @dragonflygurl4 @lovingkoalaface @snow-strawberry @jungkooks21 @jklvrs-world @aloverga @vsr4197 @skzthinker @kpop-nct @--xxchrissyxx- @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @olimpiiaa @cassies-cookies @angelbiaa09 @ravynn-12 @lovebtsforever24 @yuyupie @100butterfliesinthesky @tannies-luv

Italics couldn’t be tagged :(

[savorypink]

king and queen seat

you, alex, and some papers.

contains smut. + tbhc!au.

"What do you think?"

It's breathtaking. You marvel at your home planet's brilliance as you gaze from the large office window. The vast darkness of outer space leaves you hollow, but tonight, it aids in the mesmerising showcase before you. The orb is luminous in the dead, black sky, adorned with deep ocean blues and swirling clouds of white.

Patches of earthy greens and browns emerge, though not in great detail. You can almost pinpoint each continent. Watching from your seat, you feel microscopic, too puny and weak to handle it all.

As Alex settles beside you, the couch cushion sinks under his weight. Only when his large, icy hand envelopes your clammy palm are you thinking: Who in the hell puts a casino up here? You scramble through the file cabinet of your brain to muster something—anything worthwhile to say — but when your mouth opens, nothing emits. Alex adores it.

"Any adjective will do." He says, his warm lips brushing your knuckles in a gentle kiss. Your heart goes into overdrive, unsure if it's from Alex's touch or from realising how silly you must look.

"Wow." Your voice is but a whisper, but awe blankets every letter.

"Not an adjective." He sets your limp hand on your lap before returning to his desk. "I'll accept it, though."

Your gaze fixates on him as he rolls the sleeves of his button-down, hauling you deeper into a lovesick trance. Under the warm ceiling lights, the gold band on his finger flashes in the light as he does so, causing you to fidget with your own. A certain feeling crawls up your spine, mirroring the same puny insignificance you felt observing the Earth. Your man belongs here; you don't.

In the past, he might have shown initial protest, and leaving you on Earth certainly didn't help ease his guilt. However, you never doubted his ability to run this place. No one else had the capacity for care and detail as Alex did. From the green nylon carpeting to the flashing neon lights of the casino below, he had everything and then some.

Was it too ambitious? It'd be dumb to say otherwise. However, you can only see one man behind the desk running it all. And he wants you in the passenger seat? You should be happy, yet you wish for the couch cushions to swallow you whole.

You startle when a stack of documents slams onto the desk and again when you hear the thud of the desk drawer closing. From the drawer, Alex retrieves a pen adorned with a cute rubber charm of an astronaut at the top. A pair of readers also emerges from the drawer, which he perches on the tip of his Romanesque nose. Yes, he's your husband, but you're here solely on business. What's with the teenage swooning?

In silence, you watch as he reviews the documents. He's already pre-signed them, and the dotted lines await your signature, but you know how thorough he likes to be. The pen looks like a plaything in his giant fist. The veins in his wrist pulse as he clicks the pen, obnoxiously echoing off the office walls. For a moment, you're convinced the clicking is in perfect synch with your frantic heart despite the inattention of the action.

When the clicking ceases, your heart does, too, only to start again once he brings the clicker between his teeth, his lips brushing the astronaut charm. You're realising how uncomfortable your pencil skirt and button-up are as you sweat like a sinner doused in holy water. Are you seriously jealous of a pen?

"Baby." The air loses its stillness when his velvety voice fills the silence, causing you to sit upright. "What are you thinking about?"

Where do you begin? This co-manager role is a lot of responsibility, and I'm terrified. Do I want to do this? Why do you look so sexy when reading stuff? We should kiss. Cute pen, by the way. None of these thoughts leave your mind. Instead, the sour tang of word vomit tumbles out.

"You look good in that chair." It comes out more gravelly than you wish, and Alex notices it. The smirk adorning his handsome features says more than enough.

"Our chair now." He leans further into the velour chair, playfully twisting until he gets up. "Unless you don't want it. I know my girl likes to decorate." He slides the papers in your direction, placing the pen beside them.

"She does. It's very...you."

The office could be mistaken as a set for Mad Men. The scent of the mahogany walls and a newly vacuumed carpet float through the air. Though you're worried your sweat may have soiled it, the orange couch under you is intact, comfortable and plush, with no signs of sinking. You also notice this in the two spare chairs, the same burnt orange colour as the couch. Men in suits should be scaling the walls to be here. Yet, the office feels uninhabited; the only lingering animal prowling is Alex.

It is muted and lonely. It feels just like space. It feels like Alex.

"Eh," he shrugs. "It could use some plants. Gonna need your name on these papers, little lady."

Temporarily, you don't rise from your seat. Your nervous system isn't sending the neurons to your legs. You're realising this isn't some fawn-in-headlights moment. You're aware of your surroundings and what you're here to do. Yet, the painful churning of your guts and the weight of this—what you're sacrificing your life on Earth for—is weighing twice as heavy. These aren't first-day jitters. This is a warning.

Ultimately, your legs take you to the desk, but you're shouting at your body to stop shaking. It's only you, Alex, and some papers. It's almost like your wedding day.

You can pick up the pen without spasm, and Alex smiles when you do. Before your eyes meet the papers, you spot your wedding photo in a brown frame on the desk. The picture shows signs of wear and tear, with some fraying around the edges. The imperfections stem from the photo being in his wallet for years, but the flaws increase its charm. From the sepia colouring to you and Alex's stiff posture, the picture looks antique and fragile, your poses complementing the retro feel. Regardless, you hold your bouquet of dried peonies and foliage, beaming ear to ear with Alex behind you. You recall his offer to decorate, and while there are some things you'd like to rearrange, that photo isn't one of them. Your poses? You would change in a heartbeat.

To kill time, you skim the papers as slowly as you can. Alex simplified all the legal jargon for you beforehand, but you feel like a child picking up their first book. The most straightforward words look like gibberish, and your head is reeling as it attempts to comprehend everything. Your skull feels as if two large hands are squeezing your temples, the pain throbbing even harder when you reach the dotted line awaiting your name.

With your mind muddled and the room doing 360s, you don't even register Alex has moved behind you, his lips ghosting over your ringing ear.

"Is everything alright?"

His hushed whisper is soothing, grounding even. You can feel the carpet under your heels again. The dotted line is no longer a blur, and your head is no longer doing pirouettes. The air stirs again, and the burning in your lungs drops a few temperatures. You can breathe once more.

"Yes," you say. You click the pen and scribble your name. Although it looks like chicken scratch, Alex is familiar enough with your penmanship to deem it acceptable. He knows how you write when in a hurry, not when you're trying to make him happy.

Alex's arms firmly close around you, squeezing air out of you with mere strength. Elated isn't a strong enough word to define his happiness. It overflows in the scattered kisses he plants all over your reddening face, and you can feel him even trying to pick you up for a moment. You bask in the affection as if you hadn't signed your life away moments ago. You even giggle as his beard tickles and scratches your face.

The tenderness spilling from him is the only thing that feels normal. It's almost possible to forget you're here, on a floating rock in the middle of celestial nowhere. But the gleaming Earth outside the office window will always remind you of your sealed fate.

You're stuck here.

His lips meeting your mouth don't evoke the same enthusiasm from you. Hesitantly, you kiss back, imitating the lip movements of a kid kissed on the playground. Your nerves go unnoticed by your husband, likely mistaking your hesitance for teasing. His hands are still frigid, unyielding in temperature despite caressing your burning face. As the kiss deepens, you allow your previous doubts to dissipate, though Alex's tongue has done it for you. His grasp on your skull is tight, headache-inducing, but your relief is in his restlessness.

You can't blame him for wanting to tear you apart, his tongue roaming your mouth as if you were a lifeline. You've been gone for too long. Saying that he missed you would only scratch the surface. When he pulls away, both of you are breathless, your lungs clinging to the surrounding air.

"We should celebrate."

A lopsided grin adorns his features, making you want to kiss him all over again. Before Alex heads over to the bar cart near his desk, he leans in to give you one more peck on the lips. The bar is complete with coffee, teas and cookies you sent to him from home. The only alcohol is a small champagne bottle, which he returns to the desk. After pulling a corkscrew from the drawer, Alex releases the cork with a loud pop. The sound makes your heart misstep, but you can't contain your giggles, as it all happens in a rather lacklustre fashion: no foam, no clapping, no cheering. It's a surprise party thrown for the wrong person.

Alex hands you a paper cup filled halfway with champagne. As you take the cup, your hesitation mirrors the one in your kiss. You gaze at the cup, watching the bubbles ascend and burst. When he's back in front of you, you keep your eyes on the cup. You don't waver, even as you feel his eyes boring into you.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks. "And be honest this time."

The revelation doesn't shock you. It's somewhat reassuring that he caught up on your lie. The part where you have to tell him is what tugs at your heartstrings. Your eyes remain on the cup as if your answer is in the bubbles. Telling him should be a cakewalk; say how you feel. It's not like you're trying to reverse a major decision or anything!

You let your eyes leave the cup, meeting Alex's concerned expression; you're looking at a kicked, beat puppy, and the sight is nauseating. Perching on the desk, you sigh, watching your trembling legs sway beneath you.

"I know you can do this. And you do it well," you state. "I'm just not sure if I can do it. At all."

The light against your feet goes dark as Alex's shadow eclipses your form. For a moment, you're freezing as his shadow looms over you. You're fighting with your body to stop shivering, the weight of his shadow heavy and biting; it's almost unnerving. Soon enough, you find warmth as Alex's hand cups your cheek. The tenderness washes over you like a tidal wave; it's what you've yearned for this whole time. This should feel like something other than a business meeting. This is you and your husband.

"I don't need you to be perfect," he begins. "I need you to be here."

You swallow a lump large enough to make you choke, fixing your unsteady eyes on his warm gaze. "Is that enough?"

"More than enough. We've always been a team. Now, we're a team on the moon."

You chuckle, leaning your head into his calloused palm. "In a casino. On the moon."

"Right. Treat like we're at home. You cook, I do the dishes. I wash, you fold. It's all 50/50." He leans in and lowers your head, planting a tender kiss on your scalp. "You'll never do it alone. I promise. You can say your husband loves you to the moon if it's any consolation. And it'll be true."

A boulder is gone from your shoulders. It's like you're breathing for the first time, feeling the knot in your chest finally come undone. Your doubts will continue to linger; that won't change. The bittersweet aftertaste lies in the comfort of Alex being there to remove those hurdles for you. And he'll continue to do it—always—just as he promised you.

Sighing, you rest your head against his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart. "One hell of a celebration, huh?" You snort, looking at your cup. "We didn't even make a toast."

Alex withdraws from you, lifting the paper cup halfway. "What shall we toast to?"

"I dunno." You shrug, mirroring his movements albeit meekly. "Teamwork?"

With a small smile, he taps his cup against yours. "To teamwork."

Before taking a sip, Alex raises the cup once more. "And to Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino's First Lady."

First Lady, it's difficult for the title not to make you smile. As you sip your champagne, a comforting chill travels down your spine at the fizziness. You glide your tongue along your lips to catch the hints of melon, an action that feels like a blissful eternity in Alex's mind. His sharp eyes wander from your champagne-coated lips down to the tan pencil skirt you wore to match his tan trousers.

With ease, the stretchy fabric lifts and sculpts the curve of your butt, accentuating your hips and supple thighs. The skirt's ability to cling to you is equally alluring and irritating, moulding your body into perfect form and embracing you better than he could. It's not fair; it should be him instead.

Alex downs the last of his champagne in a swift swig, pivoting his aching lower half away from you. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches you clam up again, your eyes vacant and your hands pleading to shake. Your stress is infectious in the worst way possible, suffocating the office with unbearable weight, making his heart fall into his stomach.

Alex clears his throat before speaking, likely masking the shakiness threatening to slip out. "Can I do anything to make you more...comfortable?" He asks. "As far as your new position's concerned, I mean."

"Kiss me again."

You say it without delay. It's the most confidence you've had today. Alex quickly grants your wish, almost tripping over his feet to kiss you again. This kiss holds more ferocity than the one before. It's painful when your lips meet, the alcohol burning, teeth colliding. Your tongues are lacking in grace, twisting and fumbling over each other, rough and greedy. When you moan, he calls back to you with ten times the intensity, his groans deep, almost primal.

Both of you are equally breathless, like the first kiss, panting as you two separate. With your foreheads against each other, you realise nothing needs to be said between you. Besides a question from Alex, you two are pure telepathy. But sometimes, Alex likes to hear it from your mouth.

"What do you want to do?"

Through your quivering lip, you utter the command. "Sit."

The desk beneath you rumbles as Alex drops to his knees. He wastes no time from there, his hands mirroring the same insatiable hunger as his tongue. To your dismay but with delight, his impatient hands form tears and holes in your stockings. Your gooseflesh expands as your bare skin becomes exposed, your body tingling when his hands graze you, sending delightful shockwaves to your core.

Alex's eyes lock with yours, holding a gaze that swirls your heart and head. The fabric of your skirt wrinkles as his hold on the hem tightens; he's beyond eager to please you. He's a chess piece awaiting your skilful hand—a jester desperate for the royal's approval.

You give a simple nod, and to Alex, you've moved the piece that will lead you to victory. He hikes your skirt up to your stomach, releasing a swarm of butterflies with his movements. Alex tears through the remaining material of your stockings to access your drenched panties, his breathing ragged and hot against your flush skin. He yanks the flimsy fabric to the side and glides his fingers along your leaking entrance. The touch may be minimal, but the impact is immense; you clutch the edge of the desk tightly, unable to hold back a moan as his fingers glide into you.

"Deeper," you command. Alex's fingers delve even further into your core. His knuckles flex as your walls shut around the digits, his teeth clenched in a tight hiss. Your thigh quakes when you feel it, the frigid metal of his wedding band sliding past your warm walls. It's as deep as he can get, but your ache refuses to subside. Using your hips, you buck to motion for Alex to take the wheel or do anything. Your walls morph into quicksand around his fingers, rendering them immobile as his fingertips strike the area of your rioting ache.

His eyes, devoid of focus, shift back and forth between your quivering, moaning form and the fingers plunged within you. Your arousal dribbles clear and hot on the mahogany desk, and it's pretty—fuck, it drives him mad, but solely for the time being. He's thankful you can't hear the annoyed 'tch' he lets out.

Below your stomach, the heat is scorching as his fingers work you further, poking and prodding your bits as your vision turns cloudy white. A tender kiss on your knee jerks your head downward, and your eyes meet your husband's once more. There's a glimmer in both of your gazes, ample in heart-stopping warmth; it's unshakable, too loud to ignore. The sight of you is ghastly, sweat clinging to your body like a second skin, and your makeup melting off your face. You're aware of it all, but it doesn't matter to Alex, and it never will. He'll look at you all the same; he'll hang you in the Louvre while holding the same gaze that put a ring on your finger. You'll always be perfect in his eyes.

The sounds bouncing against the office walls assault your ears, echoing your moans and those wet, squelching noises. Alex is inaudible through it all, but you can decipher his words by studying the curves of his lips.

"Close?" Alex asks.

Your body betrays you before you can answer, moaning instead of a simple "yes", yet you're able to nod your head. His fingers curl as they thump against your core once more, the bricks you've stacked steadily beginning to crumble. Alex is saying something else, and you are pretty familiar with it. You recognise the curving of his lips. He utters the words–your favourite words.

"I love you."

You don't say it back. Instead, you allow yourself to come undone on his fingers, your walls collapsing around the digits as you cry out to him. Your vision is a lovely cloudy white when you spasm. Through your haze, you forget entirely about the remaining liquid in your cup, accidentally pouring it on the documents that still lack your signature.

As the clouds roll out, you can hear Alex cooing you back to reality as he utters sweet nothings against your skin, rubbing away the never-ending gooseflesh. He slides his fingers out of you with fragility, as if you'll crack again at the slightest touch. 

You will.

Alex stands up with a sigh, observing the mess formed on the desk. The champagne seeps into the documents, causing the ink to bleed and smear your signatures. When you look like this, it's hard to let his anger rear its horrid head. He knows better than to ruin your bliss, to rip you out of your cosy headspace, but he's your boss now. His words are merely a slap on the wrist.

"First Lady, you've ruined my desk."

You gulp as you try to regain your breath, your chest burning hot as you pant. "Our desk."

[osplague]

If you're looking for a warm, smutty, but wholesome drama about two candlemakers finding love through the holidays, "The Candlemaker's Apprentice", my modern AU Reynauld and Dismas romance, maybe the perfect Christmas fic for you!

It is now completed with occasional bonus content!

[voxmortuus]

I have a very specific DARKFIC request for you with a pretty serious trigger warning.

Tangerine and non-con with a virgin fem reader. Eventually the reader starts to enjoy it as the scene caries out. Bonus points for pet name use and a splash of breeding kink.

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Dark!Tangerine x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Bullet Train ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2.6k ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Virgin Reader | Rough Intercourse | Hitting | Spitting | Choking | Hair Pulling | Bleeding | Degradation | slamming readers into bathroom wall | Pressing readers head against the wall | Taking it from behind | NON-CONSENSUAL UNPROTECTED INTERCOURSE | Eventual consent with reader enjoying the scene | Mention of Cock warming | Eager to please Reader | Pet name | Breeding Kink | Cream Pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ DISCLAIMER: *̥˚✧ DO NOT ROMANTICISE OR GLAMORIZE SERIAL KILLERS OR RAPE! I do not condone these actions, nor do I support them! This was written upon request. Do NOT send me hate mail, you will be blocked, do not post on this with any sort of negativity you will be blocked. If you don’t like it don’t read it it’s that simple!!! If you ever encounter this in real life please contact the Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline. Please understand this is a fanfiction, think of it like Hollywood. Also, I’m sorry if this is horrible….. ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well, I hope this hits all the right notes with you. ✧*̥˚ IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It's like his nose was a hound dog for that virgin blood. Watching you sit there on the train in an empty car you were reading your most current favorite book The Terminal List by Jack Carr, with your earbuds in listening to the latest song you were hooked on by Ice Nine Kills. You were minding your own business when this man dressed sharply sits across from you. Looking up you give him a polite smile and went back to your book.

After a brief observation of the man sitting across from you, you noticed he had blood on his shirt, but you didn't think much of it. Sure alarming, but it was what it was, especially these days. Licking your lips, you turn the page. You feel these eyes on you. You glance up and sure enough, he's looking at you like you were some delicious snack. You give a slightly tense smile and look back down at your book.

You start to feel uncomfortable; your heart is racing; your mind is focused less on the book and music and more on this strange man sitting across from you staring you down. You lick your lips once more before you gather your small backpack and excuse yourself. You feel him watching you, but you don't look back, you just keep going.

Upon excusing yourself, you head toward the bathroom. Closing yourself in there you try and calm your nerves. You look over yourself in the mirror and shake yourself a bit and let out a slow breath. You plan to go back out after a few more moments and move to a different car.

After fixing your makeup, you finally get your nerves calm enough to return to the car. Opening the bathroom door, you walk right into his chest, and you stumble a moment.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." You say softly.

He didn't say anything. He gripped your throat and moved you back into the bathroom closing the door and locking it.

"Excuse me... no. Let me out." You state firmly.

"Babydoll, you need to be relax and be polite." He smirks.

"You need to fuck off... no." You state trying to push past him.

He pushed you back against the wall and shook his head and licked at his lips. "I don't think so Babydoll."

"I'm not you're Babydoll, and you need to back off." You state firmly, but it appears he's not listening.

You try and push him off you but his strength wasn't letting that happen. His hand starts to roam your body.

"What the fuck! Stop it!" you snap.

"You need to shut up." He states as he slams you against the wall.

Turning you around he reaches around and slips his hand under your shirt groping you. He lets out a soft groan against your neck. You begin to panic and pushing back but he keeps you in place with his forearm.

"Stop... please stop." You plead.

He hears you, but he doesn't listen, and he moves from your chest to slipping his hand into your leggings and realizes you're not wearing any panties and he smirks.

"Such an easy little slut you are huh?" He muses.

"Please don't do this." you beg. Your eyes well with tears. Closing your eyes tears drop.

"Oh come on now Babydoll, I love when they cry..." He purrs into your ear as he starts to massage your bud.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind running miles a minute. You try and choke back tears, but you feel like you can't breathe, and you try and fight him off but he's just keeping you there.

Closing your eyes you let out a soft breath and you attempt to push yourself away again, trying to escape from it all, your mind races, your heart pounds, your eyes crying.

"Please, please don't do this. I'm begging you. I'll give you whatever you want, but please stop." You plead.

"Oh Babydoll, you're going to give me exactly what I want." He smirked as he pressed himself against you.

Was he hard? Oh geez... oh no, yes, yes he was and then you knew your fate. He slips your leggings down as he presses your head against the wall. Your breathing quickens. You had no idea what to expect, you were saving yourself for the right person, the right moment, and here he was getting ready to rob you of that, to take it all away from you.

Thoughts ran through your head. Why you? Why now? Why this? What did you do to deserve this? Why won't he listen? All these on repeat, and it wouldn't stop. Why won't he stop? Why is he doing this?!

Trying to find your words to plead you turn around to try and push him but he is quick to slap you across the face and it causes your lip to bleed. You whimper a moment, and you try and fight back but he again, slams you against the bathroom wall. With a hand around your throat he spins you back around and slams you against the wall again.

"God damn it Babydoll, be a good girl." He snarls into your ear.

Moving from your neck to your hair he grips a hand full of your hair and moves you so he can position himself, but you fight. He snarls again before he says fuck it, and shoves his hard cock between your virgin lips and rips your innocence from you in one swift thrust.

You scream, in pain, the snapping, the hot pinch of pain, the searing hot rush hits you and you take in a jagged breath.

"No... no no no! Stop! PLEASE!" you plead but there is no stopping.

You try and fight him, but with him pinning you against the wall you can't escape him. His thrusts become quick, they become hard, and they hurt. His growling his snarling, his grunts and groans fill the bathroom and all you want is to be let go, return to your seat, read your book, listen to your music, that of which was now on the floor from the fighting. Your ear buds letting the music escape from them freely while you're being held hostage against this bathroom wall.

You begin to cry, hard, but this only seems to fuel him even more. Why was this happening right now. You begin to breathe heavily in panic. Your chest moving rapidly with each thrust, it wasn't out of enjoyment, it was out of panic, and anger, and aggression. He tilts your head back and your mouth opens only for him to spit in your mouth. You growl and spit back but he slams your head against the bathroom wall as his thrusts become harder.

You try and find your happy spot, but it wasn't working, everything was becoming too much. You couldn't get your mind to focus. So you focus on what's around you. The buttons for the toilet, the scent of the bathroom, the scent of him, the scent of blood... wait, blood? Oh, yeah... blood... that happens in moments like this. And then you feel angry again. This hot rush of anger hits you and you start to fight again.

"LET ME GO!" You start to fight again. Trying to push him away. But with the angle he's got you at makes it difficult.

"Babydoll, shut up." He growls. "You can fight all you want, you're giving me nothing but a harder cock." He smirks.

You growl and try and fight but that wasn't happening. His thrusts were hard, rigid, painful, your hips felt like they couldn't withstand the thrusts. You take in a jagged breath, you clench your jaw and you try and jerk your head with his hand in your hair and he only slams your head against the wall again.

You feel this daze hit you, one too many slams against the wall, you feel this tingling in your nose as he starts to thrust a little slower. Was he taking his time? You close your eyes trying to find that happy place, but all you can feel and see and focus on was his face, and how he felt stretching your virgin cunt. You clench your jaw breathing out of your nose.

You didn't want to think about it. You didn't want to feel this, you wanted this bubbling feeling to go away. You clenched your jaw and attempted to think of something else. The harder he thrust, the slower he took, the more your mind focused on the way it felt, how his cock felt slipping in and out just enough to tease the length. You actually felt yourself getting wet and you clench your walls around him. Not out of pleasure, but out of hopes of stopping yourself of getting wet, you didn't like it, you didn't want it.

You wanted to save it... but there was no saving anything. You hated him, you were angry with him, you hated him, you wanted to kill him... to rip his heart out and eat it with a side of french fries. You sniffle as you try and regain yourself and pushing back against him he shoves you forward again, his thrusts deep, slow, almost teasingly slow. What was he doing? Oh no, no he knew what he was doing. He wanted you to cave, but you weren't going to. You didn't want to.

This wasn't a game, this was a fight, and you wanted him to stop, taking all the stops but you weren't able to move, you felt this sense of defeat, accepting what it was. You just stood there, as he used you.

"That's it Babydoll... acceptance. You're tight little cunt feels so good... that tight little cunt belongs to me now. It's now molded for my cock. I'll be keeping you close Babydoll, use you whenever I want." He purred against your ear with a slight snarl.

You had no words, but why were they doing something to you, why were they making you feel conflicted. Why were you liking this? Your breathing picked up. You bite your lip a little harder.

"I'm going to breed you, fill you every day. Use you like the little slut fleshlight you are." He mused.

Okay now that did something. You whimper softly. Biting your lip, your hips spread a bit as you arch back a bit taking in more of him. He doesn't say anything in this moment, you just take his cock, focusing back on the feel of it, focusing on the way it fit inside you just right. Focusing on how it made you feel, you feel yourself loosen up around him, feeling yourself getting wetter.

"You...you... want to breed me?" You ask with an almost timid voice.

"I'm going to breed the fuck out of you Babydoll. You like that?" He asked.

You think a moment and nod. "Are you going to fill me up?" You ask.

He laughs with a slight groan. "Whenever I want." He purrs against your ear again.

You focus on the things around you, and you realize the title of the next song. Dirty Thoughts by Chloe Adams. You bite your lip and you let out a soft whimper, feeling how long he was, how wide he was, how he stretched you, you think about his words, how he wanted to use you, how he breathed, how he wanted to breed you. Your breathing picks up a little more.

It went from you hating this moment, to you starting to enjoy this moment.

"I want you to use me... to breed me... to fill me up..." You admit.

The thought of it, dripping his seed from your cunt was something that actually really turned you on. Biting your bloodied bruised lip you let out a soft moan as you spread your legs a little more letting him slip deeper and you press your ass toward him letting him take even more.

"That's it Babydoll, take more of my cock." He growled as he started to thrust upward into you.

You gaps feeling him slip fulling into you, feeling him hit right to the base of his shaft.

"You're so big... you feel.... you feel..." you don't want to say it.

"I feel what Babydoll?" He asked.

"You feel good... I like how you fill up my virgin pussy." You state. Where was this smut coming from? Where was this seeping from? Must have been all the fanfiction you were reading before coming on this train. "Please... fuck me a little slower... I want to feel all of you." You plead.

He blinked a few times and smirked. "My pleasure Babydoll." He mused.

Slowing his thrusts, you think a moment and you reach down to slip your pants off your leg.

"I want to face you.... please... I want you to face me and fuck me." You plead.

He smirks and pulls from you. This moment you could run, but you slip the pantleg off and place your hands on his shoulders and he lifts you and presses you against the wall, noticing the bruising on the side of your face, the blood from your lip, he leans forward and licks at your chin and sucks on your lip as he slips his cock back inside your slightly bleeding wet drippy cunt.

You let out a soft moan against his lips as you wrap your legs around his waist and feel him thrust deeper within your walls. They begin to message him.

You rest your head against the wall behind you. Your hands move from his shoulders to play at the hairline at his neck. As he bounces you against his cock your bud is rubbing against him and the sensation is overwhelming. You let out a loud moan. Feeling yourself getting wetter you close your eyes as they roll back. You whimper and moan rather loudly.

"That's it Babydoll, enjoy yourself." He smirks.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck... breed me... fuckin hell breed me. Pump me full." You moan loudly.

He looks over you and tilts his head and smirks as he picks up his pace, thrusting faster, harder, deeper. You feel yourself getting close. You clench your jaw as you drop your head against his shoulder. Your breathing quickens, he begins to pick up his pace a little more, his breathing, his moans quicken as he pumps into you.

"FUCK!" you scream as your body begins to shake.

Never experiencing pleasure like this, you were going to quickly get addicted. He slams you down on his cock.

"Fill me! FILL MY CUNT! BREED ME!" you scream.

He chuckles. "An eager Babydoll you are... I'm going to enjoy filling you up everyday." he smirked as he gave a few more slams and lets out a heavy groan.

Your body shook as you just let everything go. Your whole body just releases and takes his hot ribbons of breeding seed. You scream with a finish as he continues to pump his load into you.

You grip at his hair a moment, your breathing erratic, your mind calm and quiet, your body tingling, sore, and euphoric. Everything felt good and sore at the same time.

"Fuck..." You pant. You look over him. "Do you have a name?" You ask him.

"Sir works just fine, Babydoll." He smirks.

You tilt your head and smirk. "Does this mean I'm all yours now?" You ask.

He looks at you and smirks. "With a mouth like that, damn fuckin straight it does Babydoll." He states with confidence.

"Can we do this again soon?" You ask.

"Are you going to fight me next time?" he asked.

"No... but maybe I can make you hard and I can sit on it while we wait for the next stop?" You ask.

"Cock warming may be a little too advanced for you." he smirked.

"And this wasn't? I'll warm your cock, and you can fill me up again." You smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes

[ddagent]

Gonna go ahead and blindly order a F7 then :D

Fanfic Menu Challenge: F7. Margo finds out she's pregnant after the '92 IAC

There was a sharp knock at the door. Sergei jolted forward, joints shuddering as he righted himself upward. Margo touched him once again, pressed a hand to his forearm. "It's not time yet. We still have time." She paused; her thumb brushing his arm. "It's okay. Sit down."

Then she left him to descend into an armchair while she took on Lenara, the KGB – all for him.

As she spoke rapidly to her assistant, buying them more time, Sergei took in Margo's office. He had seen glimpses of it through video calls; had seen the 80s iteration with no piano, a couch that she once told him had pulled out. Everything was neat, orderly. Brightly lit by a wall of windows. Sergei shrunk into himself. He should not be here. He was glad to be out, glad to be away from those monsters. But once again he was tainting Margo with their association; once again putting her in an unenviable position to tarnish her honour, her integrity in order to save his life. He had not been good enough for her two years ago. He most certainly was not now.

Sergei's chest rattled with another cough. His handkerchief fell from his hand. As he retrieved it from the carpet, he found something else. A children's toy. A plush space rocket, in yellow and gold material. How strange.

The door to Margo's office closed. Sergei turned, and found the owner of the toy. Holding Margo's hand was a little girl – one, perhaps one and a half. Her red hair was short and wavy; she was wearing blue dungarees with stars embroidered on the front. No shoes, just socks. The little girl clutched Margo's hand as they walked, one tiny step at a time, towards Sergei. He was still holding her rocket. He should hand it to Margo, leave. No doubt the young girl would have nightmares about the gaunt man in her mother's office. Because this was clearly Margo's child.

They paused in front of the arm chair. Margo squeezed their joint hands. "Sergei, this is Alexandra. Alexandra, this is my friend Sergei."

Alexandra buried herself in her mother's side, as was common when greeted with a stranger. Especially a pale, bald stranger with hollowed sockets and an ill-fitting suit. But Margo did not remove her, usher her away. And Alexandra quickly accepted that Sergei was not the bogeyman under her bed. Sergei then proceeded to draw on his experiences of children, his role as uncle. He took the rocket toy, made the appropriate noises for lift off – with the occasional chatter from Mission Control. He made the noises until Alexandra began to laugh, a bright tinkle akin to Margo's piano.

"Is this yours?" She nodded, bashful. "Would you like it back?" Another nod. "Here."

Alexandra wobbled out of her mother's orbit to take the toy from Sergei's outstretched hand. Sergei then looked towards Margo, who was watching their interaction intently. Worried, no doubt, how her daughter would react. But Alexandra seemed content. Margo then took Alexandra over to the end of the couch and let her daughter sit and mimic Sergei's noises, happily playing while the adults discussed politics.

Margo re-took her position opposite him. Sergei smiled at them both. "Congratulations, Margo. She is beautiful."

"She is." Margo reached over, stroked her daughter's crimson hair. Alexandra's spaceship seemed to be in some kind of distress. Both Margo and Sergei smiled, laughing softly at how she was mimicking real life. "It's been difficult. There were...hard choices to make when I found out I was pregnant. But I'm glad I have her."

"And her father?" Sergei asked. He had to ask. Had to know which man Margo Madison had deemed worthy to love, to have a child with. Sergei knew he was not entitled to his jealousy. But he had to know.

Across from him, Margo stiffened. "An academic; he worked at the university in Huntsville. We were dating – he passed away in a car accident shortly after I found out I was pregnant."

"Margo, I am so—"

"—it was an easy story to sell. Everyone bought it; the President even bought me a crib." Margo lay back against the couch, defeated. She stared at her daughter, ran a hand along the red curls curling over her ears. "She has your smile, you know. Everyone says they've never seen such a happy kid. And she likes to get her hands dirty. Between her and Javi, the cleaning service I pay for has their work cut out for them."

Sergei stared. Margo could not be saying—

She then leant forward. Reached for his hands once again. "Sergei, I know you're worried about your family. But you have family here in the States, too. Let me help. Please. Because no matter what happens between us, or with our daughter, I need you to be safe. For her and for me. Please."

"Of course." Sergei nodded. There was no question, now. No question at all. "Of course, Margo. Anything for you. For the both of you."

Twenty seconds after Sergei discovered he was a father, Lenara knocked on the door. But in those twenty seconds, he knelt by his daughter and watched her play with her space rocket, adding ambient noise to her play. His daughter. He had a child. Already she had grown so much and he had missed it. But not one milestone more. Sergei would do whatever he could to be here for them. For his girls.

[hellishjoel]

chokehold

1.6k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi

chapter summary: Joel teaches you how to face fuck. 

chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (sweetheart, angel, little bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, face fucking/oral (m!receiving), size kink

A/N:  very lightly edited, but I wanted to give a little love to joel and little bunny since the third chapter is taking me some extra time! divider is by @firefly-graphics! and always a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this over and endless encouragement <3

Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slow and steady, because that’s just the pace you’re taking him. 

Facefucking is still experimental to you. He’s your first partner, and you’re nervous to impress. 

What you don’t know is that Joel would never judge your inexperience. All sexual pleasures involve trust, praise, and a little direction.

Joel stokes your hair affectionately, growing more possessive as he gently guides your mouth up and down his thick length. 

You can feel the power shift as your knees dig into the floor, eyes hesitantly meeting his while you try to take more of his shaft. You want more, you’re willing to push your limits. 

Joel seems to sense your loss of inhibitions, your twinkling eyes meeting his whiskey ones. 

“Want me to use that pretty little mouth of yours?” Joel’s words vibrate through the room. He pulls his cock from your lips, smearing his tip from one corner of your mouth to the other as you catch a breath. His warm pre-cum slips onto your tongue, and all you crave is more. 

Watching you desperately try to get him past your parted lips again is enough to force out a dark, low chuckle. 

“Wanna hear y’say it, baby.” 

Your impatient whine and eager hands on the back of his thighs make you beg, “Please, Joel,” in that wrecked voice that he loves so much. 

Joel presses his hips forward once more, watching his tip slip past your puckered lips and back into the hot heat of your mouth. “Yeah, right where I belong, huh, baby? Right where that cock belongs.” Joel’s hand comes to cradle your face, tracing the bulge of his length against your cheek with a sinister smirk. 

The further he pushes on, your tells start to show. He admires the way your eyelashes flutter, gagging and coughing around him but insistent not to let yourself off. A stray tear slips down your cheek. He collects it with his thumb and brings it past his lips, tasting what you give him. 

“Even your tears taste pretty, sweetheart,” he mutters predatorily, watching as your eyes blow wide, shyly moaning against his length. 

“When it gets to be too much, try to stay on. Swallow around me,” Joel gently nods his head. “Go on.” 

You obey, swallowing around the thick trunk of his cock, throat feeling a little looser now. You’re oh so willing to take on the discomfort just to please him. Anything for Joel, because he’d do anything for you. 

As his hips pick up a lazy pace, Joel encourages you to drop your hands from the safety blanket of his thighs. Like the good girl you are, you ease them to the base of your spine and lay one wrist over the other. He’s tied you up in that position more times than he can count, allowing Joel to take control and use you as he pleases. Such a good fucking girl. 

Tears pool along the top of your cheeks, the sight of glassy eyes igniting a fire deep in his belly. The overflow of saliva trickles out along the corners of your mouth, pooling down to his length and soaking the coarse hair on his balls. 

Joel watches as you shift anxiously on your knees, eyes pleading because somehow you want more. 

“Oh, honey,” he drapes in a degrading tone, stroking your hair away from your wet face and letting you catch a breath as his hips halt. “Need more, don’t’cha, doll?” He drawls, cooing softly as you lay your head against his thigh. Your orbs lazily look to him and nod weakly, still measly sucking on his tip. 

You bravely flick your tongue along his tip’s sensitive slit, toying at the idea of getting a rise out of Joel. 

A hiss is released past his clenched teeth, his whiskey eyes turning wild. And then you do it again. 

Joel’s hips jerk like that of a bucking bull. His hand in your hair turns to a fist, causing you to clench your eyes closed at the scorching prickle along your scalp. Joel scoffs as you fucking moan against him. 

His grin turns wicked, twisted at the thought of you enjoying some rough love. 

“Fuckin’ naughty, aren’t ya, little bunny? Yeah, bein’ a damn brat,” he chastises, watching as you frown around his tip and sucking it insistently. “Think m’gonna have t’finish deep down that pretty throat of yours, make ya choke on it,” he remarks as he repositions your head with a newfound need to punish.

Joel gathers your hair into two sets of pigtails, fisting them between his large palms. He watches you struggle to stay upright and drags you into position. “Keep that cock in your mouth, don’t let it go, sweetheart,” he gripes as you struggle to maintain him. It almost feels like a twisted game the way he nearly slips loose from your heat. 

Your mouth was full, jaw aching for a break that was nowhere in sight. Your fingers intertwine to keep them locked at the very base of your spine, whining nonsense against his cock. Soaking wet and dripping onto the hardwood, your pussy clenches around the ghost of what is currently occupying your mouth. 

You wanted to touch yourself so fucking bad. The self-discipline it took to keep your hands together makes your stomach churn. Your pearl twitches with enthusiasm, drenched in your own arousal. 

The muscles in your thighs are tight, your chest heaving and causing your bare breasts to rise and fall at a quickened rate. The overflowing spit that drips down from his balls lands on your chest. Joel can’t seem to stop staring at the gleam. 

Your nose brushes against his thick pubic hair as he buries your face against the base of his stomach, and you sputter up a cough. Lungs squeezing, throat tightening, you will yourself to swallow around him and stay right where you are. I’m yours, Joel. Please, take me, use me. 

“Fuck,’ he growls upon yanking you off his cock, smirking widely as you gasp for lost breaths. “Love that goddamn throat,” Joel mutters before reaching past you and pulling your hands to the front of his thighs, which quickly form a home for you. It’s grounding, to feel him, to feel his blood pumping through his body, and etch mine on the inside of his upper thigh mindlessly. 

“Got me so close, honey,” he starts, and you’re already eagerly nodding. Joel brings his thumb to your throat and slowly circles one spot against the column of your flesh. “Wanna feel myself right here, think you can do that, sweetheart?” 

Your eyes soften at the depth he wishes to go, but you’d do anything for him. You nod shyly and drop your jaw, flattening your tongue just for him. Always for him. 

Joel’s pace is gentle at first, working up a rhythm that has your throat molding perfectly around him. You gag each time he thrusts all the way, knowing when to swallow and when to breathe, Joel has taught you this new erotic art. 

The saliva dripping down to the base of his cock greets your chin repeatedly. You hollow your cheeks around him, and he moans naughty filth. 

“Such a pretty slut for this cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good- god damn,” Joel pauses with his length fully down your tight throat, grinding himself against your mouth as you clench your eyes close and gag. Joel places his thumb on that sacred spot against your neck, and he can feel his tip bulging against the column of your throat. You’re so fucking full of him, and it’s enough to make him spill. 

The hold he has on your hair tightens, scalp prickling as you cry out along his length. Salt bitters your tongue, weakly swallowing back load after load of his warm, thick finish. You swallow around his length and moan lowly, all muffled and messy for him as he crashes harshly through his own concocted orgasm. 

Your nails etch half-moon shapes into the back of his thighs, keeping him there, pushing for him to cross the finish line. And it was all for you. 

Tears of happiness stream down your face as you let him finish painting your throat, releasing with a dramatic pop as you do your best to swallow every last dribble. You’re careful as you give his sensitive tip a few sweet kitten licks. His hands are at the ready in your hair as he hisses harshly, ready to control you if it’s too much overstimulation for your poor old Daddy. 

Sponging kisses down his softening length, you lay your head against his thigh, and he cards his fingers through your hair. A soothing hum leaves your throat, fluttering your eyes closed as his thumb comes along to brush away the stray tears. 

It’s easier to ignore the throbbing between your legs now that Joel has found peace. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you listen only slightly as he begins to coo gentle affirmations for you.

Joel holds your hands and helps you stand, your arms already tiredly linking around his neck as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, “always make Daddy so happy, you know that?” Your head bobbles loosely. His sweet remarks make your muscles even more pliant in his arms as he easily sweeps you off your feet and moves you to lie across the bed. 

Joel takes all of you in. Sweat glistening along your temple, parted lips lacquered in spit, the extra effort it takes you to swallow, how perky your nipples are, and the slick that’s all but made a mess down your thighs. 

“Shit, she’s so pretty f’me,” Joel whispers as you grin weakly.

“My turn now?” Your wrecked voice squeaks, to which Joel slowly nods, helping you pitch your legs up on the edge of the bed.  

“Your turn now, little bunny.”

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

Eddie has spent the better part of an hour lapping at you. His sharp tongue teasingly kitten licking at sodden folds. He smirks against your skin as those little whimpers give him life, spurring him on. He was quite at his leisure, in his natural element, sampling you, humming in approval at your sweet tang. “Like a goddamned dessert, sweetheart. Jesus.” You try to push your hips forward, desperate for more friction, for anything, but he croons. Dark eyes finding yours from beneath his lashes. “Uh, uh, baby. Be good. Don’t want me to restrain you, do you? ‘Cause I can be very nice right now, or, I can be very, very mean.” He tilts his head, studying your expression, the way your breath hitches, wide eyes impossibly wider at the mere thought.

Eddie whistles lowly, incredulously, he nips at your inner thigh. “Oh, you like that idea? Want me to be mean to you?”

“Christ, Eddie, just fuck me already!” Your frustration boils over as your orgasm ebbs away to nothing, cheeks flushing at the outburst. You prop yourself up by the elbows and you’re met with a raised eyebrow. He slowly makes his way up your body, draping himself over you. A hand shoves you back against the pillows, brown eyes narrowed. He grips your jaw, cool metal meeting heated skin. “Oh, shit.” You breathe.

“Oh, shit.” He repeats, condescension lacing his tone. “You fucked up, baby girl.” Eddie squishes your cheeks, lips forced into a pout as he leans into kiss them all too gently. “Buckle up, babe… you’re in for a long night.”