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#my daisy masterlist
wonwoonlight · 2 years
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my daisy / kim mingyu | forever with you
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➝ CEO!Mingyu x Reader
➝ a little angsty if u wanna see it that way // hurt comfort // fluff // v short suggestive scene (no smut though)
➝ warning: mentions of accident? that's probably it. but let me know if there's more
➝ word count: 6~k
➝ summary: Mingyu wants to propose, but he never expected it to be like this.
series masterlist
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He admits, this is quite an unusual group of people. Not that they’re strangers, but Mingyu’s sure these people wouldn’t hang out together if their mutual link isn’t present, which is you.
And you’re not here.
“Stop sighing so much,” Jennie frowns, her fingers absentmindedly combing through her daughter’s hair. Mingyu turns to see Soojung, sleeping soundly on her mom’s lap. She’s already three now, already able to talk back to her uncles and aunts if they tease her a little too much. He tracks back to when Gyuri was three, what was he doing then?
An acquisition, more agreements, a subholding’s merge, Jennie’s maternity leave–oh. Has it really been three years since you’ve come into his life? Of course it has. If not, he wouldn’t be here with Jennie and Seokmin, trying to rake his brain to find ideas of a wedding proposal.
Gyuri’s six now, and she’s already calling you ‘Ma’ even though you both have told her that as much as you’d love to be her mom, it’s not as easy as she’d like it to be. You’re both sure Gyuri understands what you’re saying, but she pretends like she doesn’t and she’ll call you that when she feels like it. At least she still has it in her to call you Daisy most of the time, and has never really addressed you as ‘Mama’.
On top of that, you’ve already moved in a few months ago (which probably encourages Gyuri more on the nickname) and, from the look of it, Mingyu feels like he needs to start preparing for proposal because he can see it happening in the near future.
Mingyu has brought up the topic before, and he’s seen the way you melt when you brought him to your older cousin’s wedding, felt the way your fingers tighten in his when the bride and groom were exchanging vows. You used to keep your cool even with him, but he got his confirmation just a few weeks ago when Soonyoung shyly admitted he’s thinking of settling down with his current partner.
The both of you laid together that night, your head on his chest as you talked about how happy you were for your Soonyoung. When Mingyu asked if you want that too, you’re strangely silent, simply buried yourself into his chest and refused to meet his eyes when he teased you about it. He can still feel how loud your heart was beating and how hot your skin felt when he placed his palm against the back of your neck.
Which brings him here, in Jennie’s house, because he’s at loss and he’s decided to call for Jennie as your representative, and Seokmin as his representative. (Because if he has brought Jisoo too he’s sure the girl wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut.) He doesn’t want anything but perfect when it comes to you, and if he’s going to ask you to be with him for the rest of your lives, Mingyu wants something more than perfect.
“You know she’s not into anything grand, right?” Seokmin reminds him, knowing full well Mingyu would want to arrange something close to majestic. He doesn’t deny that you of all people deserve it, but he knows you and if there’s anything that makes you happy, it’s the simplicity of life.
“Do you think taking her to Athens is too grand?” Mingyu asks, his eyes reminding them of kicked puppies. Jennie would never admit if anyone asks, but her heart actually melts at how hard Mingyu is trying to impress you even though she knows Mingyu could simply ask and you’d say yes.
She lets the two talk a bit more, trying to see if any of their suggestions would fit you. Seokmin is right when he says you wouldn’t want anything grand, but Mingyu doesn’t want it to be too normal either. He wants it to be special and Jennie understands where he’s coming from. With those in mind, it’s a little hard to find a special occasion that wouldn’t be too cringey for you but not too everyday life for Mingyu.
“Here’s what I think,” she says after a while, and it’s one of those moments when Mingyu actually feels like Jennie’s his older sister despite them being the same age. “She’d love anything prepared by you, Gyu, trust me. As long as you don’t plan on proposing to her in public or order a bouquet of a thousand roses, it’s fine.”
Mingyu winces at the latter suggestion, apparently having thought about it. Jennie holds back a laugh while Seokmin shakes his head at his pout.
“You may want to spend the special day with her, but, if I may suggest, maybe bringing Lili into it would be a good idea too,” she hums as she hugs her daughter tighter. “You know how much they like each other. And…”
Both men stay silent as Jennie contemplates her next words, though they have an idea of what she’s going to say. 
“Well, you know how she still doubts if she can be a good mother figure for Lili,” she sighs, her mind still unable to grasp why you’d think so. How can you feel that way when Gyuri herself has been insisting that you’re her mom? When you’ve somehow become his family’s emergency contact when they fear something’s happening to Gyuri? When Mrs. Kim herself often invites you and Gyuri to her spa day because she wants to ‘spend my day with my favorite girls’? “I think it’d be great if you can include Lili in it, or at least bring her in after you propose by yourself.”
Mingyu doesn’t say anything at that, already busy thinking of a thousand scenarios to propose to you to no avail. Nothing seems to be perfect enough, and even if he did ask Jennie and Seokmin for input, he wants to do something original for you–something that he comes up with.
He sighs, not minding the knowing looks the two throw his way.
It’s so gonna take him a long time.
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“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. You’re both in his room (yours too now, you figure), and you can’t help but notice that Mingyu has been in his head these days. He doesn’t look like he’s in a bad mood, but you can tell that his mind is floating elsewhere and he doesn’t always focus on what you’re saying.
It’s fine though. You’ve learned that when Mingyu’s silent, he has too much in his mind. Sometimes he lets you in, sometimes he copes better thinking by himself. All you have to do is ask, but this time, instead of giving you a straight answer, he simply shakes his head and says it’s nothing.
You frown at the vagueness, wondering what could possibly be bothering him to the point where he feels the need to pretend with you.
“You know I’ll listen if you want to talk, right?” you remind him again, never tired of it. You need to do that with him sometimes, even if it’s been two years and more since you’ve got together. Mingyu is used to handling things by himself, and you can’t blame him for his tendency because he’s always trying his best despite some drawbacks. You just need to be patient.
He smiles softly and urges you into his arms, which you happily comply with. You settle into the crook of his neck, the position isn’t exactly comfortable but you can’t be more content than you are at the moment. You close your eyes as you relish on the feeling of his lips against your forehead, his thumb caressing the skin of your arm.
“It’s nothing, I promise,” he mumbles against the top of your head. “Just something that has been caught in my mind.”
You pout, playing childish. “And you don’t want to tell me about it?”
He chuckles, and even though he knows you’re not, by any means, annoyed and are simply playing around, he indulges you nevertheless. “I’m not sure how to tell you, to be honest. But, don’t worry, I’ll figure it out and you’ll know then.”
So you drop it. Because if you’ve done this much and Mingyu still won’t give in, he’s probably set on keeping it to himself. You’ve pushed far enough.
“Okay,” you hum against the skin of his neck, placing a chaste kiss there before snuggling close to him and start talking about your day.
Mingyu doesn’t really answer except for the occasional hums and nods of his head, and you’re not sure if he’s really listening, but when you pull away to look up at him only to find his eyes looking like they have the entire galaxy trapped inside, you can only smile as his lips finds yours and his warm palm cradles the side of your face.
Whatever it is that bothers his mind, you’re sure Mingyu will tell you when the time comes.
You don’t want to push it. Not when he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of it for years–certainly not when his hand grasps the skin of your waist under your (his) shirt and he’s already maneuvering you so your back is pressed to his bed, his figure hovering over you, and his lips have found the sensitive skin of your neck.
Nope.
You’re not going to think about it.
The thought crosses your mind in bits of pieces, head already a little fuzzy as his lips leave yours for a moment to get you out of your shirt only to come back a second after.
You can’t think about it.
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Gyuri is in one of her moods. She’s been cranky since the beginning of this week and she now knows to throw tantrums longer even if they claim it’d just tire her out.
It’s a battle of patience. Either you get a headache from all the screaming, or she gets tired of it first and understands that you don’t plan to entertain her.
This started two months ago, after you picked her up from school because Mingyu was busy with a meeting. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, the teachers have figured you must be related to the girl one way or another and Mingyu has told them you’re the first person the school may call if ever they can’t reach him.
What’s not usual is the frown in her face that day. Gyuri would usually be happy to go home after school, she’d hug you and joyfully yap about what she learned or if she made new friends. But she was quiet the entire ride, and even though she still reached for your hand, she simply shook her head when you asked if there’s anything she’d want to talk about.
You told Mingyu once he’s home and the little girl was asleep. He, too, found it weird, but he suggested to let it be for now because he knows his daughter can be a little too hard headed for her own good.
Even if she would throw tantrums from time to time just like any other kid, it has gotten worse since that day. Sometimes, she’d even talk back to her dad. You were there when she first did it, her small voice firm as she demanded him to go to her recital even though Mingyu had told her the week before that he couldn’t go due to a business meeting outside the city.
When he was about to repeat the reason on the off chance that she might’ve simply forgotten, Gyuri shook her head and exclaimed that she didn’t care and he had to be there no matter what before storming off to her room.
Mingyu is worried something might’ve happened at school; but the teachers all say there was no fights or anything that might be concerning though it’s true that Gyuri has been quieter than she used to be. 
He tries talking to her, even asks his mom to do it too because sometimes she’s more open with her grandma than with her own dad. But nothing works, she refuses to say anything and she’d even pretend to be sleepy just to stop talking about it.
When did his daughter get that smart?
And then there’s something else.
She has started to get quiet around you; you’d notice the way she’d focus on her food or play with her fingers when you’re nearby. While she still answers when you ask, it’s clear that she’s a bit reluctant when it comes to you now. You’ve tried to get it out of her, but she always says she’s just tired.
You don’t know how you’re supposed to get answers from a six-year-old that doesn't want to talk. It hurts, if you’re being honest. Gyuri has never been distant towards you, not even when you first met. If anything, you two got even closer as time passed by. So to have her suddenly closing up without any reason is… heartbreaking, if you may be frank.
Did you do something wrong?
The few times she throws a tantrum at you, it’s usually resolved within minutes. So what could possibly happen? You don’t want to invalidate her feelings just because she’s a kid, so you figure she’s probably developing more complicated emotions and you’re the victim of that.
The question is, how long will it go?
“Lili, didn’t we agree no toys on the dining table?” You frown at her doll, its tail almost touching the bowl of soup nearby. Gyuri usually knows not to do that, and the few times she feels like bringing her toys with her, she’d place it on her lap or on one of the empty chairs.
Gyuri doesn’t budge, and you share a look with Mingyu as you bite your lip. It’s already the third time she acts out for the day, which is a record because it’s not even 1PM yet. You whisper her name again, more firmly this time, but she still doesn’t do anything and simply plays with the fork in front of her.
Mingyu bites back a sigh, trying to figure out why his daughter is behaving this way. He observes her, and he’s about to reach out for the doll until you do it first. He jumps when Gyuri screams ‘no!’, and his eyes open a little too wide that it would’ve been comical if not for the fact that his six-years-old is screaming at you.
“Kim Gyuri!” he raises his voice before he even notices. He doesn’t like to do that with Gyuri, and she has never given him any reason to. Because as much as she behaves badly at times, it’s never to the point where screaming at her would be necessary. But this? She has never disrespected someone, even more you. “Say sorry to Daisy.”
“No.” She huffs, frowning at him and not even looking at you. “I want to eat with Eeyore.”
“But Li–”
“I don’t care!” She cuts you off, puffing her cheeks, and you need to place your palm over Mingyu’s arm to remind him screaming at her again won’t do any good. But Gyuri isn’t done, it turns out, and what she says next pierce right through your heart that your hand that was holding on to Mingyu actually goes limp in a millisecond. “Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not even my mom!”
You gulp hardly at that, and you look down to ignore Mingyu’s stare because you’re afraid of what you’ll find reflected there. You know you aren’t, you have never tried to… be her mom, and while it does make you happy everytime she calls you ‘Ma’, there’s a sense of anxiety that overcomes you most of the time it happens. A question that doubts if you’re really fit to be her mom, if you deserve to be called that.
And here’s your answer.
“Baby–”
“It’s okay.” You force out a smile, blinking back tears. Gyuri is silent after saying the words, and you refuse to look at her too because you know you’d be crying if you do. “It’s okay. Do you mind if I…”
Mingyu looks at you exasperatedly, though he nods after he squeezes your arm and offers you a worried smile.
It’s silent for a few moments after you go upstairs to your bedroom, and Mingyu’s left looking at his daughter wondering what he’s supposed to do. Getting mad at the little girl wouldn’t do anything, but letting her be after she pulls up something like this isn’t a good thing to do. And if he’s upset at the whole thing, he can only imagine how you’re feeling.
“Gyuri,” he softly calls for her. “Why did you say that?”
She still doesn’t say anything, but now that he’s looking at her, he can see tears lining her eyes. Gyuri sniffles once, and then shakes her head when he cradles her into his arms. She doesn’t actually cry a lot, so when she simply wraps her short arms around his neck as she softly cries into his shoulder, Mingyu knows something is wrong.
He simply has no idea how to get it out of her, because she still refuses to talk despite the breakdown. He ends up having to carry his daughter to her bedroom as she stays rooted in his arms, only leaving once he’s sure she’s asleep and he can put her to bed.
You’re staring into space when he walks into the room, which is concerning because it actually takes him an hour to put Gyuri to sleep. Who knows how long you’ve been like this?
“Hey.” His voice is calm when he calls for your name, and if the sight of your sad smile doesn’t break his heart, your puffy eyes certainly does. He’s quick to gather you into his arms, and he can hear the crack in his chest at the way you don’t burst into tears, probably already tired of it. But he feels the way your fingers tighten around the material of his shirt, feels your short breaths against his neck, and he certainly feels the sadness that just pours out of your figure.
“Don’t think about it too much, okay?” The words sound so lame even to his ears, but he can’t really say anything else at this point. The topic of you being Gyuri’s mom has always been somewhat of a taboo–not that it’s his choice. He knows where he stands about the whole thing, and he knows Gyuri would love you to be her mom also despite today’s episode.
But you? He’s not actually sure because he doesn’t want to push you into it if that’s not what you want. He knows you love Gyuri, knows how good you take care of her–but do you want to be her mom? To officially adopt her and be her legal guardian?
As much as he’d love to ask you the question, he knows how much you treasure the right pace and time. Even convincing you to move in was quite a trial, and Mingyu didn’t complain because he knows you’ve always been careful even though it’s clear since the beginning that your relationship with him is anything but casual.
“You know she loves you, right?” he kisses the top of your head, and even though you nod, Mingyu also knows you’re probably starting to doubt it after what happened earlier. “I’m not sure what got into her, but… we’ll figure it out, okay? I promise she doesn’t mean to be hostile to you.”
You hum, not having any answer to that. And that’s when Mingyu decides to pull away so he can look at you properly. It hurts to see your eyes full of sadness, but he wills himself to lock his gaze and reminds you that he’ll talk to her, that he’ll try to get to the bottom of it because whatever’s going on with the girl can’t be ignored any longer.
“And I love you,” he reminds you again, dropping a chaste kiss on your lips and then lingers on your forehead. “We love you. Always remember that.”
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You take a deep breath as you wait in front of the school, waiting for Gyuri to come out. It’s been roughly three days since that night, and it’s still awkward between you and the girl. You know she feels guilty, but you don’t want to pressure her to talk to you because if those words have somehow managed to come out of her mouth, you’re sure it’s been in her mind quite sometimes.
Maybe she’s confused about your arrangement with her dad, maybe she’s simply in one of her moods and you caught her in a bad time. Whatever it is, you don’t want to cross a line and you’ll give the girl space if that’s what she needs.
It might seem a little too much when you’re dealing with a six year old, but you and Mingyu have decided it might be good to let her be for a while just to make sure it wasn’t a burst of tantrum.
That said, you wouldn’t be here if not for the fact everyone else is occupied at the moment. You don’t mind picking her up, you’re just afraid that she would mind if you do. But it’s better for you to know she’s going home safe, so you brace yourself for her frown when she sees you instead of her dad.
On the contrary, she doesn’t frown, but you can’t quite tell what’s the emotion that flashes across her face. Guilt? Confusion? Whatever it is, Gyuri takes your hand nevertheless and respectfully bows to her homeroom teacher before she goes with you.
You ask what she did for class today, and it pains you that her answer is small and hesitant–as if she’s unsure she can talk to you. Still, you’re glad she’s gripping your hand and she sits close to you even until you get inside the car.
You’re too deep in your head to notice the awkwardness inside the car, and it’s when Gyuri tugs your hand to her lap that you finally turn to her and ask if there’s something wrong.
Her lips tremble a little when you ask, and you feel her fingers grip yours a little too hard like she’s trying to assemble words together.
“Lili? Anything wrong?” you try once again, getting more worried as seconds go by.
“Daisy, I…” she starts, still refusing to look at you. You wonder if you’re this eloquent with your feeling when you were six, but Gyuri has always been exceptional, so you’re not surprised that she’s already acknowledging her feelings at her age.
You don’t get to hear the rest of her sentence though, not when Mr. Jang’s loud warning echoes through the car and you panic at the sight of the car in front of you.
You don’t remember anything after reaching for Gyuri and covering her with your entire body.
Something rings loudly in your ears, and the last thing you register before your consciousness fails you are Gyuri’s loud scream and her small fingers gripping your shirt.
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“What do you mean I can’t go in?!” Mingyu’s loud demand can be heard through the entire corridor, and the nurse in front of him is a little scared if she’s being honest. But it is protocol and she can’t let him in yet when the doctors are still examining you inside. “That is my wife and my child inside and you said I can’t go in?”
His mom doesn’t bother to correct him, but she pulls him softly to remind him that he just needs to wait a few more minutes. The nurse has been telling him that for the last five minutes, but he’s too overrun with worry to actually listen.
“Son, let’s wait a bit, okay?” she coaxes him, apologizing to the nurse while she’s at it. Jihoon and Seokmin are also there, and they actually have to physically hold him back before he barges into the room. “They’re still examining her. You’ll be let in once they’re done.”
As if on cue, the door opens and the doctor in charge comes out of the room. He doesn’t look surprised at the sight in front of him, already hearing the commotion from inside.
“Your wife is fine, Sir,” he starts to calm him down and then proceeds to tell them that, yes, you’re injured, but it’s nothing severe and you should be good to go after three days of rest just in case there’s any internal wound. He says Gyuri is safe except for a few scratches and the shock, as you covered her with your whole body so it was you who got the damage first.
Mingyu actually tears up at that, and when he asks if he could go in now, the doctor nods though he suggests the rest should wait and see if you’re up for more visitors. His mom urges him to go in then, and tells him to inform them after and they’ll be waiting outside.
“Oh, Christ,” he exhales in relief when he sees you sitting up on your bed, legs almost giving out at the sight of you awake and well. Gyuri is plastered on your side, her face buried into your chest, and Mingyu is worried she might be putting in more pressure than necessary but you shake your head before he can pull her away. 
It’s okay, he reads your mouth. He sits on your other side and examines you thoroughly as his hand reaches to fix your hair. The side of your head is injured, he can see, and there are a few scratches quite visible on your face and your arms.
“What… happened?” he whispers weakly as his palms cup your face, having forgotten to ask that question altogether because he’s too busy worrying about your wellbeing. When Seungkwan mentioned your name and car accident, Mingyu really didn’t have it in him to register more words that came out of his mouth.
“The car in front of us crashed into another car.” You clear your throat as your voice crack, having only woken up about fifteen minutes ago. “Mr. Jang tried his best to maneuver the car elsewhere so we crashed into a lamppost instead. But it was still quite the impact and… yeah.”
Mingyu gulps hardly at that, unsure if he wants to kiss you because you were literally ready to lay your life down for Gyuri, or if he wants to strangle you because he might’ve lost you had it turned for the worst.
“Thankfully, Lili is fine. She’s sitting close to me so it was easy to cover her.”
Gyuri whimpers at the sound of her name, and Mingyu can visibly see the way her arms tighten around you. He reaches out to her so she’d see him, but she just buries herself into you further. She’s shocked, you figure, which is normal and the doctor has said she might develop some kind of trauma.
They also say she didn’t stop crying the entire way to the hospital, her hand wouldn’t leave yours and she refused to be put into another room because she wanted to be with her mom. It’s only when you started waking up that her tears died down, and after you told her she can come up to your bed, she hasn’t let go of your side since.
“Lili?” you try to coax her, your fingers combing through her hair. Funny how fast things turn around–wasn’t it just a few days ago that she’s refusing to talk to you? “Papa wants to see you, Flower. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
She looks up a little at that, and Mingyu’s face falls at how swollen her eyes seem to be. Did she really cry for that long? 
“Come ‘ere, give your dad a hug.” He opens his arm a little, but Gyuri shakes her head and says she wants to stay with you.
“I’m here, baby,” you caresses her cheek gently, heart warm despite everything. “Papa just wants a hug. He’s very worried, you see.”
She seems to contemplate for a few seconds before eventually giving in and climbs over your lap and into her dad’s arms. He cups her small face in his hands, glad to know she really doesn’t have any injury except for a few scratches here and there.
“Glad you’re fine,” he kisses her forehead soundly, lingering for a few seconds as if to make sure it’s real–that she’s really fine. “I heard you cry the entire way here?”
Her eyes get sad at that, and she’s looking at you with lips trembling like she’s going to cry again. And she does, she dives into your embrace and cries against your shoulder. You share a baffled look with Mingyu, once again wondering what has gotten into Gyuri. But she starts to apologize between her broken sobs, and she says more words that you can’t really comprehend because she’s crying too much.
“Lili is sorry,” she hiccups, her sad eyes looking at you–ones that make you want to cry, too. “Sorry, Ma. Please don’t leave Lili.”
You’re not entirely sure what you’re feeling inside your chest, though you know that it’s beating a little too fast than normal, and Mingyu is fighting a smile despite his worry. What is happening?
“Lili, I’m fine, see? I’m not going anywhere, Flower,” you say softly as you continue to caress her head. “Where did you get the idea?”
Mingyu helps wipe her tears as she struggles to speak, and he sends her an encouraging smile that tells her that whatever she’s going to say, they’d wait and listen.
“I’ve been mean to you,” she whimpers sadly. “Because Jaeyoon said you’re not my mom and you’re going to leave just like my real mom. He said you don’t really like me, just Papa.”
Jaeyoon is someone in her class, your brain registers. And while her answer feels like a piece of puzzle that you and Mingyu have been looking for, it hurts to know someone really said this to her face. How did kids learn to talk like that? How did he learn that you’re not her mom?
“Oh, baby,” you exhale after a while. Who’d know she’s been behaving the way she is because of that? You’d never imagine Gyuri would ever be hearing that kind of words, let alone from a classmate. She’s six, for God’s sake. “That’s not true, alright? I like you very much. I won’t leave you, I promise.”
“But…”
“No buts,” you say, more firmly this time. “I won’t leave unless you want me to.”
“No!” She exclaims loudly, startling you and Mingyu a little. “Please, don’t leave Lili. Sorry Lili was mean, I promise I won’t say mean things to you and Papa again.”
“Okay, because you’ve apologized and promised you wouldn’t do it again, I forgive you.” You say as you drop a kiss on her cheek. She’s not done though, it turns out, because she’s fidgeting a little and she looks like she wants to say more. 
Mingyu reaches over and puts his arm around your shoulder as you both let her think. He drops a kiss on the side of your head before laying his head on top of yours, finally letting himself relax because you’ve at least found the root of the problems now and your injuries don’t seem severe. He just might need to find this Jaeyoon kid’s parents and have a talk with them about what their kid is spewing out of their supervision.
“But… Umm… can’t you be my real mom?” her timid voice fills your ear, and you actually freeze at the question that Mingyu actually feels you tense in his arm. Even he freezes at the question, not expecting Gyuri to say it out loud. “I know you say it’s not that easy but… but you can do it, right? If… uh… If Papa marries you, would that make you my Mama? If yes, Papa, do something about it?”
You look at each other dumbfounded, unsure how to answer her innocent questions. You feel like throwing up, because your heart is beating so fast that you’re sure both Mingyu and Gyuri can hear it. How do you get out of this question without making her question your will to stay in her life? Does she even know what she’s asking? You don’t want Mingyu to feel pressured to propose to you because of this also. Because even if you’re more than welcome about the idea now, you don’t want him to propose because of his kid. What if he doesn’t want to–
“Tell you what,” Mingyu breaks the silence, making you look at him in confusion. There’s a ridiculously happy grin on his face, and you actually feel like your heart is going to jump out of your throat at this point. “You’re right, Flower. I should do something about it. What do you say, Daisy? Are you up to fulfilling your daughter’s wish?”
You tear up at the way he refers to Gyuri as your daughter, and as if that’s not enough, Gyuri is looking at you like you’re holding all the stars in the universe.
“Please? Will you marry Papa and be my Mama?”
You let out a happy laugh at her question, and you nod as you hug her (not Mingyu) and tell her you’d be anything she wants you to be. And then you cry when she says she only wants you to be her Mama and nothing else, which cues Mingyu to hug you both and whisper sweet nothings into your ears.
“So you’ll marry me?” he asks lamely, like he’s asking you to drop by the convenience store around the corner. Like his chest doesn’t hurt because his heart is definitely beating way too fast and his cheeks aren’t starting to hurt from the turn of events.
“Only because it’s Lili who asks,” you teasingly answer as Mingyu wipes your tears. You happily accept his kiss though, and Gyuri squeals because, if your reaction says anything, she can safely conclude that you will be her mom.
“Can’t believe I got owned by my own kid,” he says as he pulls away, only doing so after planting another peck to your lips. “Didn’t even bring your ring with me. But I’ll plan something else so you pretend to be surprised, okay?”
You laugh again at his words, giddy at the fact that Mingyu already has a ring prepared and has probably thought of proposing to you either way. It excites you still though, and you know you’ll say yes anyway, so you nod and you make him promise not to do anything too grandiose.
Mingyu is sure there would be stars and flowers surrounding you if this was a romance manga–what, with how happy you look and the twinkles in your eyes–he honestly feels like he’s falling for you all over again. How can he not when you literally put his daughter first to the point where you got submitted into the hospital?
How can he not when you look like that?
His heart is about to burst out of happiness as Gyuri happily asks if you’re her mom now, only to have you wince because she accidentally puts pressure on your bruise on the side of your arm. His daughter shrieks at your pained expression, asking if you’re okay.
“I’m fine,” you smile anyway, because what does a bruise mean compared to your daughter’s teary eyes? “Mama is fine. Don’t worry.”
Mingyu turns the other way around to blink back his tears, heart impossibly full from what he’s just heard and what he’s currently seeing: Gyuri repeatedly calling you her mom and you simply laughing at it. It would’ve been great if you’re not in the hospital bed, injured because of the accident. But when he sees how happy you and Gyuri look, he can’t help but think that it can’t be more perfect than this.
Jennie was right after all–bringing Lili into it is the answer even if he doesn’t mean to do it.
Now he just needs to think how to surprise you with his official proposal.
Oh well, he knows he's got forever with you now.
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taglist: @yslshua @penny-quinn @nollixtrml @dnylwoo @itsveronicaxxx @john-and-paul @wheeinz @rjsmochii @w0nuuu @boowanie @n6body @imtotallydef @wwssi @bythe8 @cheolright @coupsiekkuma @hoe4wonwoo @kyeomjjigae @jh-fn @clairdelunesstuff @yoongischeeksluv @onlywonforhui @janandbeyond @treasure-hwa @teddy-cheol @tito-jun @projectjuvia @notscoupy @jeonshuawreads @cheoriemoawa @wtfkidult @itsdnguyenxoxo @nothingbutadeadesceane @juli-ssi @soonchanshua @wonunuu @cottonsthings @youcanreadithere
p.s.: pls tell me if you want to be removed from the taglist also just in case ^^
A/N: and it's here!!!! i've missed posting and i promised i'll write a special for this couple so here you go <3 hope you enjoyed it and arent sick of my daisy already loool pls do tell me your thoughts <3
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emotionalcadaver · 9 months
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Series Masterlist
Fandom: Dunkirk
Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC
Summary: When she decides to accompany the Dawsons on their voyage to help during the evacuation of Dunkirk, Daisy Preston has little idea of what she is actually getting herself into. All she knows is that there's tea, the roar of planes overhead, and the blue eyes of the handsome, shivering soldier they just rescued from a shipwreck staring at her from across the deck.
Word Count: 47,600
Notes: While all fics can be read as standalone pieces, those listed here are interconnected and can also be read as one long series. Please heed the warnings the can be found in the notes of each individual fic. All works are listed in the order I recommend reading them in. While this series is marked as complete, I may return to it should the inspiration strike.
✽ Indicates works with multiple chapters.
Fics or chapters that contain explicit smut will be marked with 🔞 and have the appropriate warnings listed in their corresponding notes.
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Story
Part 1: In the Heart of War ✽
Part 2: Broken Pieces
Part 3: A Remedy for Sorrow ✽🔞
Part 4: Scabbed Over
Part 5: Rainy Night
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Moodboards
Daisy Preston Aesthetic
Daisy Preston Appearance
Daisy Preston x Shivering Soldier
Shivering Soldier Aesthetic
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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!
Masterlists: Main
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sapphic-sasquatch · 2 months
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Sasquatch's Masterlist
💗 - fluff
💔 - angst
❤️‍🩹 - angst with a happy ending
❤️‍🔥 - fluff with an angsty ending
💋 - suggestive
💟 - general
✏️ - oneshot
✒️ - headcanons
Kingdom Hearts
Kairi x Selphie
Midnight Love [In which Selphie feels like she's competing with a ghost (some implied SoKai)] ✏️💔
Final Fantasy 7 compilation
Life is Strange
Chloe Price x Kate Marsh
Young Folks [In which Chloe Price pays Kate Marsh a visit at the hospital in the aftermath of the storm] (coming soon)
Life is Strange: Before the Storm
Life is Strange: True Colors
Arcane: League of Legends
Stranger Things
Spider-Man: Into/Across the Spiderverse
Doki Doki Literature Club
Wednesday
My Hero Academia
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic/Equestria Girls
Avatar The Last Airbender
H2O: Just Add Water
Disney's Descendants
Wings of Fire
Wayne
Mean Girls
Daisy Jones and The Six
The Hunger Games
Hazbin Hotel
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daisies-daydreams · 3 months
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Daises My Hero Academia Masterlist。・:*˚:✧。
Chizome Akaguro (Stain)
🔥Say 'Please' (Stain x F!Reader) 🔥Stain NSFW Alphabet
Katsuki Bakugou
🔥Divine (Older!Viking!Katsuki Bakugo x F!Reader)
Back to Main Masterlist
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purgetrooperfox · 2 years
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okay I got bored so I'm back I guess
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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months
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lmao so sorry to like the 3 or 4 people I just reblogged and put like "HOW DID THIS END UP IN MY DRAFTS?!?!??!" because apparently i DID reblog the posts originally.... but this stupid site copied them into my drafts as well... goddamnit.
anywho, enjoy the triple reblogs! 😅
0 notes
cherry-leclerc · 5 months
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lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 
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She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie? 
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20���s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 
Fuck her, honestly. 
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 
He’s fucked. 
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 
“Are you okay?” 
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 
“Ah. I see.” 
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?” 
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be. 
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 
None of it mattered anymore.
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goldeunoias · 1 year
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i was just rereading your works yesterday and now you posted today aaahh!! i love your work so much 🤩🤩 the recent post was amazing you're one of my favorite smut writers ❤️❤️❤️
OMG PLEASE I DO NOT deserve that title since i literally write like once every four months but the fact that I'm your favorite is insane to me thank you so much <3333
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hellishjoel · 3 months
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cherry thrill | lights
9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader
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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!)
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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. 
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next chapter ->
2K notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 2 months
Text
dad fics✨
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— here’s my masterlist of dad!drivers fics <3 thank you for reading🫶🏼
charles leclerc
baby leclerc series teen edition
carlos sainz jr.
you’re no good for me
mick schumacher
senna!reader series
lewis hamilton
the perfect dad
the hamilton girls
you’ll be fine
max verstappen
daddy max
family
little boss
you are NOT the world champion
oh, the places you’ll go
bigger than the whole sky
lando norris
royal baby
mark webber
playing pretend
work parents
oopsie daisy
sebastian vettel
ok boomer
miss honey
jenson button
i didn’t do it
everyone’s a fan
that’s parenthood
2K notes · View notes
daisyvisions · 1 year
Note
Also I don’t think I’m ready to construct a whole aesthetic and masterlist for my side blog but I do have a fic that’s half done and I was thinking of posting that first when it’s finished and when I stop hesitating:)
About the time zones- I’m between UTC +8 and UTC+10 and that’s all I’m gonna tell you🙃
~❄️
MAM I think we're around the same timezone 🥴 pls I still have to fix the aesthetics of mine they're all over the place, im planning on beefing it up this weekend skdjnfsdkjnf
0 notes
jiniretracha · 3 months
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Unfair - Hwang Hyunjin
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Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit!
Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.
Word Count: 5.2k
MASTERLIST
“Ugh! I’m so pathetic!” you cried as you busted inside your best friend’s room. “Like, so pathetic”
Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, lazily sketching something on his notebook when he heard your cries, making his head lift up to look at you. “What happened this time?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
You sat down on the couch with a huff and crossed your legs under your butt. “I thought he was the one. And he obviously was not” you grumbled.
“Who?”
“Soobin! I can’t believe it” you face-palmed yourself. “I- God! I thought he was into me. Like, he was flirty all the time. We’d go out to eat, which I mistook as dinner dates. He’d take me to the funfair. Shit, he even gifted me that giraffe plushie which I’m obviously stabbing him til the fucking insides are laying all over my floor” you snapped.
Hyunjin was pressing his lips together to contain his smile. Not because you were miserable, no. Because you looked so freaking cute when you were angry.
“Stop smiling, Hyunjin. I feel like shit”
Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” he said.
“Not helping here”
“Sorry, sorry” he said, placing his hands in the air in defense. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. Come here” he cooed, extending his arms, making you sigh and crawl towards him as he wrapped his arms around your body.
“I’m so pathetic” you whispered, feeling your eyes stinging with tears.
“What? No” he shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only girl in the world that got her heartbroken or got her hopes up over a stupid boy that couldn’t see what was in front of him this whole time?” Hyunjin rambled on. “That’s bullshit”
You felt your heart melt at his words. “Thank you for saying that, Hyunjinnie. Really, but I think this time I’m accurately depicting myself. I’m a pathetic loser”
He just chuckled against your hair. “You’re being mean to yourself”
“I deserve it”
“No, you don’t. So what if Soobin doesn’t like you like that? There are tons of other guys who aren’t blind as him” he said.
“Yeah, where are they?” you asked angrily.
Right here, Hyunjin wanted to say. “You just gotta keep looking” Hyunjin said.
You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. You wondered what it would be like to be with him. You obviously did. It had been three years since you met Hyunjin, and you couldn’t get over the fact that you loved him. It wasn’t every day that you make yourself a friend who’s an idol, and every single person on the planet wants and longs to be with him, so you weren’t stupid. Your chances of being with him were slim to none. You got your dose of liquid luck that got you there with him, being his friend.
“I know. But I’m just so tired of missing and missing the target over and over again” you rambled on.
“I get that. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to keep trying, Y/N” he whispered.
You nodded. “I’ve got no date for Valentine’s. Can you believe that?” you asked, almost to yourself. “That’s what’s pathetic”
Hyunjin chuckled. “I don’t have a date for Valentine’s either”
“Yeah, but you’ll be on tour. Besides, you got seven dates”
“No, ew” Hyunjin shook his head. “I love them, don’t get me wrong. But no, I’ll pass” he said, making you giggle. The sound made his heart clench painfully in his chest. You don’t know I’d give my life for you to continue giggling like that forever, he thought. “I’m sorry I’ll be away. I was gonna offer you to be my date. Figured we could finish watching the last episodes of Daisy Jones”
You sighed. “It’s fine. You gotta be a superstar, duty calls” you giggled. “I wish I could go with you, though”
“Yeah, me too” he nodded. “Why don’t you come, though? I’ll pay for your tickets”
“I got work, Jinnie. I know you’d pay for them. You did that the two times I went overseas to watch you guys in concert. Best experience of my goddamn life, by the way” you said, making him laugh. “But, no, this time I’ll painfully pass. I love my little shop”
You had your own art supply shop, where you sold canvases, acrylic paints and all sorts of stuff that any artist in Seoul would need. Hyunjin stumbled across your shop three years ago and he loved it. He always found everything he needed for his artworks. But the best thing he stumbled across in your shop was the cute vendor that was smiling at him, asking if that was everything he’d need, if he needed assistance or the way you smiled whenever he’d talk.
The attraction he felt was so real and so scary to him, but he loved it. He felt he found the one. And that feeling didn’t change. It probably won’t. Ever.
“I know you love it. I love it” Hyunjin praised.
You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah”
You giggled, pressing your head into his chest once again. You let out a content sigh and then closed your eyes, feeling exhausted after crying the whole way back to his apartment and putting up with your feelings for the boy your were laying on.
<>
“You’ll stay here with Y/N, okay Kkami?” Hyunjin told his little four-legged friend that was sitting on the comforter. “You’ll be good to her, aren’t you? You like her more than you like me, anyways”
The comment made you giggle and pet Kkami’s hair. “He’s a good boy, Hyunjinnie. He’ll be okay here with me” you said.
“Yeah?”
You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “Absolutely”
“Great” he sighed with relief. “If you need anything, I wouldn’t say ‘call me’ because I don’t trust myself to be with my phone if you needed me, so I’ll just tell the guys downstairs that whatever you need, you can ask them. You can help yourself out with ev-“
“Jinnie” you stopped him with a laugh. “I do this everytime you go away for more than a week” you reminded him. “It is not my first rodeo”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right” he nodded. “You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Now go! You’ll be late” you scolded him, pushing him out of his room.
He chuckled and turned around, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you!” he called as he made his way out.
“Love you! Have fun!”
“Thank you!”
You shut the door and then looked at Kkami who was comfortably sitting on the bed. “You’re gonna be my date for Valentine’s, Kkami” you sighed.
Kkami barked at you, making you chuckle.
“Yeah, I know. Me too” you said, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “I miss him too. And he just left”
<>
ONE WEEK LATER…
Hyunjinnie: everything ok over there?
You smiled as soon as you heard your phone chiming with the personalized tone that Hyunjin had chosen for himself.
You quickly typed your answer back.
You: everything’s ok!! u?
Hyunjinnie: everything’s cool. i’m having so much fun, i missed touring honestly. but i miss u as well :(
Your heart literally melted.
You: you sweet little ferret. i’ll tell the kids.
Hyunjinnie: NO! please i’ll never hear the end of it if they know i’m a softie for you
You giggled.
You: for me and Felix, isn’t it?
Hyunjinnie: Yeah, you and Yongbokkie are the only ones i’m soft for.
You smiled and left your phone next to you when you heard someone coming inside the store. As the client finished their purchase and left, you heard your phone vibrating against the counter a few more times.
After the customer left, you quickly grabbed your phone.
Hyunjinnie: so, there’s only five days left for valentine’s day
Hyunjinnie: have you found a date?
Hyunjinnie: i’m sorry i’m sending so many texts. we’re currently having a mini break from sound check
You quickly typed your response, hoping he didn’t go back to sound check.
You: yes, i actually have
Hyunjinnie: oh…
The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.
Hyunjinnie: who’s the lucky guy?
You: it’s actually someone you know pretty well
You: he’s been keeping me company these days. he’s lovely
Hyunjinnie: oh
You felt weird watching him reply to you. Wasn’t he getting it?
Hyunjinnie: what’s his name?
You: His name is Kkami. a charming little man ;)
Hyunjin didn’t reply for a solid 30 seconds, the longest thirty seconds of your entire life.
Hyunjinnie: oh lol. i really thought you got a date with someone real
Hyunjinnie: tell Kkami thanks for keeping my girl company
Hold up.
My girl?
Your heart clenched. And so did your core. But you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.
You: i’ll tell him
Hyunjinnie: y/n i gotta go :(
You: nooooo!!
Hyunjinnie: i don’t want to go. but i have to. i’ll text you later, promise!!
You: okay :)
Hyunjinnie: love you! tell kkami i love him too
You: we love you and miss u too hyune!!
You sighed putting your phone down.
My girl.
Yeah, you were not going to let that go.
<>
TWO DAYS LATER…
Hyunjin sat in his dressing room, exhausted after performing for thirty thousand people for 2 hours straight, holding his portable fan in one hand and in the other, his phone. He scrolled his Instagram feed and smiled when he saw that you had uploaded an Instagram story to your close friends.
He clicked on it and his smile got even bigger. It was a selfie that you had taken with Kkami, with a text that said: My favourite cuddle buddy ❤️.
He swiped up, quickly sending you a direct message, reacting to your instagram story.
@hynjinnnn: you two are the cutest!!
@y/n.jpg: thank u <3 we miss u jinnie
His heart melted reading those words.
He instantly clicked on your profile and started stalking your photos. It was unreal the effect you had on him. How every single time he looked at you, or thought about you, his heart would clench inside his chest. Hyunjin was so in love with you, he didn’t know what to do with it.
He clicked on a certain picture, one that did things to him. It was one that you took on a night out with your friends, wearing a short dress that made your chest pop up nicely. He licked his lips and sighed. How is it possible that a woman like you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s? Are men really that blind?
His mind instantly went to Soobin. He knew the guy. He was nice, but Hyunjin really thought the guy was dumb. Did he actually see what was in front of him? Didn’t he notice all of the things Hyunjin sees in you? How perfect you are?
Hyunjin shook his head.
He was going to do something about this. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from you having at least a little something for Valentine’s. He’d be damned.
<>
VALENTINE’S DAY
You woke up from your slumber and immediately put a hand on your forehead, groaning as you sat up.
“Here goes my pathetically alone Valentine’s day” you said, hopping off the bed. You opened your closet and found the dress you had bought back when you thought you were going to spend Valentine’s with Soobin. “Yeah, you suck” you sighed, grabbing it and chucking it on the floor.
Kkami watched you with curious eyes and it made you chuckle.
“I guess I’m not that alone” you said, grabbing him and taking him with you to the living room.
You put the TV on, clicking on Netflix.
“Twilight it is then” you grumbled, and clicked on it.
As you got through the middle of the second movie, someone knocked on your door.
Your eyebrows instantly furrowed. Who was it?
You peeped through the peephole and saw the delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.
What the hell?
Slowly, you opened the door and smiled slightly at the delivery man.
“Hello”
“Hi, I’ve got a delivery for… Y/N Y/L/N? Is that correct?” he said.
Your eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s- that’s me. Who are those from?” you asked.
He checked the list and shrugged. “It… doesn’t say” he said, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry”
“No, no, that’s okay. Do I sign?”
“Yeah, here-“ he said, handing you the paper and you scribbled your sign on it. “Thank you, have a great day”
“Thanks, you too” you said, as you took the flowers from
him and closed the door behind you. “Okay, what the hell?” you said loudly.
You placed them on the counter and saw that it had a card. You quickly grabbed it and gasped.
My muse,
Someone as beautiful and amazing as you doesn’t deserve to be alone on Valentine’s day.
I hope this makes you smile.
Hopelessly in love with you,
Hyunjin.
Your eyes started to water.
‘My muse’
‘Hopelessly in love with you’
Since when?
What does it mean?
Why would he tell you like this?
There was only one way to know that.
You quickly grabbed your phone and clicked on his contact.
You: what the hell???
You: the flowers? the note? what does it all even mean, hyunjin?
You patiently waited for him to answer, and about twenty minutes later, you got your answer.
Hyunjinnie: everything.
Hyunjinnie: it means everything.
Hyunjinnie: you mean everything.
You felt your cheeks getting wet by the stream of tears leaking from your eyes.
Hyunjinnie: i wasn’t going to let my girl be alone on valentine’s day. and as i can’t be there, at least i’ll give you a bouquet of red roses.
You smiled, biting your lip.
You: this is so unfair
You weren’t going to confess to him via text. No. You weren’t going to let that happen.
Hyunjinnie: what’s unfair?
You heard your phone chiming but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were too busy opening your laptop and typing on the airplane ticket website.
Hyunjinnie: Y/N???
<>
ONE DAY LATER…
Hyunjin’s day off was supposed to be relaxing.
But it was the complete opposite of that. He had spent the entire day sitting on the couch next to the window of the hotel room, his leg bouncing up and down and checking his phone every ten seconds to see if he had a message from you.
He had confessed his love for you.
And you said it was unfair.
What did that even mean? Unfair?
He sighed, brushing his hands over his hair, over and over again.
Hyunjin jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It’s Jisung, open up” he heard his friend on the other side of the door.
He got up with a groan and opened the door. “What?”
“Well, hello to you to, brother. I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said with a sarcastic smile, walking inside his friend’s hotel room.
“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Jisung had something in his hands.
“You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast or lunch, so I figured you’d be hungry” he said, extending his hand and offering him a bowl of raw ramen.
Hyunjin smiled and grabbed it. “Thank you, Ji”
“You’re welcome”
Hyunjin clicked on the electric kettle and poured the hot water on the bowl.
“What’s on your mind, Hyung?” Jisung asked.
Hyunjin sighed. “I sent Y/N a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s” he said and then looked down. “And I haven’t received an answer yet”
“Oh man” Jisung sighed. “I’m sorry”
“It’s okay” Hyunjin shrugged. “I mean, it’s not, but we’ll see” he said, grabbing his ramen and eating a little.
Jisung sat on the bed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to do anything with you being so far away” he said. “I mean, as far as I know, that girl is obsessed with you. She’s always smiling at you. Whenever we talk about you with her, her face lights up. Even an idiot can see that”
“You’d know that, don’t you?” Hyunjin tried to light up the mood.
Jisung snorted and flipped him the finger. “Ha-ha, so funny” he humorlessly said. “But seriously, I know everything will be fine. Don’t torture yourself with the what-ifs”
Hyunjin nodded, biting on his food. “Thank you, Jisung”
Han smiled. “No problem, Hyung”
He got up from the bed and patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. He got out of the hotel room and as he turned around to walk down the hall, he saw you running towards him panting heavily.
“Ji- Jisung, hi!” you whispered.
“Y/N?” Jisung asked confusedly. “What are you doing here?”
“It- it’s a long story. Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked.
“That’s his room, 806” He pointed at the door on the left.
“Thank you” you sighed.
“No problem” he said, getting inside his own room. “See ya”
You waved and then nervously walked towards Hyunjin’s room. You let out a shaky sigh and knocked on the door.
Hyunjin got up from the hotel room couch, leaving his ramen on the table. Did Jisung forget something?, he asked himself, looking around his room.
He walked towards the door, without checking who it was and his stomach dropped when he saw you standing there, panting.
“Y/N?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
His thoughts were cut short when he felt you tug his head down with your hand by the nape of his neck down to crash your lips against his. His brain short circuited, but quickly put his hands around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You pushed him backwards, inside his room and he kicked the door shut with a thud.
His tongue ran over your bottom lip, bringing you back to reality. You needed him to know.
“Jinnie-“ you said, breaking apart from the kiss.
Hyunjin looked at you and then back at your mouth. “What?” he asked, before pressing his lips against yours.
You smiled, pulling away, and held up the card that was delivered with the bouquet he had gifted you. “This…” you whispered. You saw his eyes flickering with anxiety. “I’m in love with you, Hyunjin. I just… I never ever thought you’d love me back” you chuckled.
He smiled and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. “Of course I am. I’m crazy for you” he smiled against your lips. “You’d think I’d let a friend sleep in my bed, with my dog, and lend them my clothes, and let them cuddle with me?” he asked.
Well, no. Now that you thought about it, the signs were clear.
“Oh…” you said, realizing it. “I’m an idiot”
“Hey. Stop talking about yourself like that, Y/N. You’re amazing. Perfect, even. And so, so, so ethereally beautiful” he mused.
You pressed your lips together, looking down at your shoes with shyness.
Hyunjin brought a hand over to your cheek, caressing it. “I love you, Y/N”
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, a long one. “I love you, my Hyunjinnie” you said against his lips. “So much”
After he brought your bag inside his room, you kept staring at him with lovey dovey eyes. He then turned around and you blushed, his stare making you nervous.
As he kissed you once again, his arms came around you, turning you around and walking you towards the bed with him. He carefully dropped you on the bed while devouring your mouth, which you could barely keep up. He was everywhere. His hands were roaming every single inch of skin he could find while he drowned himself into your drugging lips.
Before dropping himself on top of you, he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the back and pulled it over his head. His toned stomach made you gasp, as you’ve never seen Hyunjin shirtless. He smirked as he noticed your reaction, and he crawled towards you, pushing his face close to yours, in an intimidating manner.
“What is, hm?” he murmured against your mouth before pressing a kiss to your lips.
You licked your lips and raked your nails over his toned stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin” you whispered.
“Says you” he chuckled.
“Yeah?”
You felt a surprising amount of courage that made you sit up and pull your own shirt over your head, leaving yourself sitting on the bed wearing your skirt and your pretty white lace bra that you chose for the occasion in case you were to get lucky.
His eyes visibly darkened and dropped to your chest. His mouth pressing against yours with passion made you gasp against his mouth. He pressed you back against the mattress and his hands came up to grope your tits, making your back arch in pleasure.
“You don’t even know the things I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since we met” he whispered against your mouth. He then pulled away and continued his trail of kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect”
His words made your stomach flutter with warmth and you carded your hands through his hair.
“Hyunjin” you whispered into the air.
“What?” his voice came all muffled by your skin.
“Touch me, please” you sighed.
Your voice made his knees buckle. His hands went towards your jeans, undoing them and almost ripping them down your legs. He smirked slightly, watching you from above as you laid on the bed only in a matching set of white underwear.
His tongue came to lick his lips and then pressed a wet, long kiss on the skin of your stomach, making you gasp a little. His mouth started to trail down the kisses down your navel, and onto the band of your panties. He tugged the band with his teeth and let it snap back against your skin. His long fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and dragged them down your legs.
His gaze immediately fell on your core, and it made you self-conscious. You didn’t know why. This was Hyunjin, someone who never made you feel bad about anything. A true gentleman.
Your thoughts vanished when you felt his palms on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a good view of your core. He bit his lips and sighed.
“You’re dripping, princess” he murmured, his fingers scooping up some of your wetness and he pressed them on his tongue, licking them clean. “Fuck, I need to taste you”
You didn’t even have time to think, because he was pouncing on you, and started devouring your pussy like it was the last meal of his life. You couldn’t even moan properly, your breath hitching on your throat as you processed what was going on.
His nose bumped with your clit, while his tongue kept pushing in and out of your entrance. Your hands went straight to his hair, pulling every once in a while, making him moan against you.
“Hyun- Hyunjinnie” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck”
“God, I love it when you say my name like that” he said, pulling away from you and slapping your core, making you yelp. “Say it again”
He then dove right back into business, making your eyes roll back into the back of your head, while your toenails kept digging into his back.
“Hyune” you sighed, as you felt your orgasm closer and closer. “Hyune, I’m gonna come”
“Come, baby. Come all over my face” he whispered, continuing his ministrations.
Your head violently pressed against the mattress as your back naturally arched while your orgasm hit you like a truck. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up every single drop and not letting anything go to waste.
With uncontrollable gasps, you opened your eyes to find Hyunjin on top of you, his face wet from your orgasm. He kept licking his lips and staring at you with the most enamored gaze ever.
“What?” you asked, with a little smile.
He pressed a kiss onto your lips and then bit your bottom lip. “Nothing. I just was admiring my girl” he said against your lips.
You smiled and your hands went down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and trying to stick your hand inside his pants, noticing his hard rock erection against the fabric.
His hand stopped your movements. “I wanna come with you, inside of you” he whispered, making you blush.
“Then what are you waiting for?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you found a slight ounce of courage.
He smirked, his hands going over your back and unclipping your bra, carelessly throwing it away behind his shoulder. He could only stare.
He couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you were.
You felt nervous, and you grasped onto one of his hands, moving it towards one of your breasts, making him squeeze it and brush his thumb over a nipple, making you moan slightly.
His other hand joined as well, and then his mouth. He sucked at one of your tits, while the other one was being assaulted by his hand.
“Jinnie, fuck me, please” you whispered into the air.
“I will, baby, I swear I will” he muttered against your chest, moving onto the other one. “Your tits are fucking amazing, I swear”
You bit your lip to contain a smile.
He lifted his head from your chest and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, making his cock slap against his stomach. Hyunjin was big, you weren’t going to lie. And most definitely, what you were expecting.
His hands went to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He took a condom from there and quickly ripped it open, putting it on.
“I can’t believe I’m here” you said out loud.
Hyunjin finished putting the condom on and crawled back on top of you. “Believe it, baby” he smiled and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. “It’s happening”
You felt him nudge against your entrance and you bit your lip, holding onto his shoulders. He pushed his cock in and you gasped, arching your back.
“Fuck me, you’re tight” he whispered against your neck. “So, so tight, baby”
“You’re big, Hyunjinnie” you whispered.
“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his hands brush your hair away from your forehead, the action made your heart flutter. “Am I hurting you?”
You quickly shook your head. “No, no, I swear”
He smiled and continued with his movements, his hips kissing your pelvic bone with each thrust. You could only moan against his neck and hold on to him.
“Harder, please” you pleaded. “I know you want to, give it to me like you want to” you repeated over and over.
Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, turning you into a face down position. He slapped both your ass cheeks and grabbed your hips, so your knees were resting on the bed with your chest flat on it. He pushed his length inside of you from behind and thrusted into you so hard it made your vision cloud with white spots.
“Yeah, fuck!” you moaned against the sheets.
“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked, sweat dripping from his body. You couldn’t answer, really. You couldn’t even form a proper sentence due to his erratic thrusting. Hyunjin slapped your ass again and it made you yelp. “Answer me, Y/N”
“God, yes, I love it” you moaned.
“Good” he groaned, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into his chest. His hands went around you, one on your neck and the other one around your stomach, holding you tightly. “I love you, God, I love you” he whispered against your neck.
Your hands carded through his hair and you held onto him. “I love you, Hyune” you moaned as he kept hitting your sweet spot, over and over. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”
“Good, come around me. I wanna feel you” he groaned.
Your back arched as he kept kissing your neck, while his hands gripped onto your tits. With a long moan, you orgasmed around him, without any help from his hands.
He gently laid your body down, on your stomach, while he kept thrusting in and out of you, searching for his own orgasm. Hyunjin gripped your hips as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.
“Fuck, fuck, baby” he kept whispering as he thrusted one, twice and then emptied himself into the condom. Once he had finished, he carefully laid next to you after taking out the condom and throwing it away inside the trash, his hand going to brush your hair away from your face, so he could stare at you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking amazing” you sighed with a smile.
He chuckled, caressing your cheek.
You stared at him while biting your lip. “I love you, Hyunjin. So much”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you, my muse”
<>
ONE YEAR LATER - VALENTINE’S DAY
You opened your eyes slightly, shifting under the sheets and immediately groaning at the pain that you felt in between your legs.
It was all his fault.
He had bought you a new set of underwear and he had ripped it away from you as soon as he saw you in it. And he was the one to blame for the soreness inside your thighs.
You heard soft pattering coming from the hallway and you sat up to see your boyfriend coming inside your shared room, holding a tray with breakfast. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of boxers, which made you bite your lip at the sight.
“Hello, my muse. Good morning” he smiled putting the tray on the bed and crawling on the bed to sit next to you. “Happy valentine’s day” he whispered before kissing your lips.
“Happy valentine’s day, my sweet boy” you kissed him again and again, not able to get enough from him. “I love you. And thank you for this”
“I love you. And you deserve it” Hyunjin told you, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. All of you. But I’m so thankful I have this. You” you told him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“God, me too” Hyunjin sighed.
You smiled, feeling so content with the life you had.
Kkami took you both by surprise by jumping on the bed, making you giggle. “Hey, little man” you smiled at the pet, who wagged his little tail and then barked.
“You wanna know what he said?”
“Oh, God. What?” you asked laughing.
“He just said, happy valentine’s day, mommy”
“Mommy? I’m his mommy?” you asked him.
“Of course” he nodded, kissing your lips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else”
1K notes · View notes
emotionalcadaver · 1 year
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Part 3: A Remedy for Sorrow
Fandom: Dunkirk
Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC
Summary: The guilt feels as though it is close to destroying him. But maybe he can find some form of forgiveness in Weymouth. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he can find even more than that.
Word Count: 26,314
Notes: Takes place after the events of the film. Henry Wilson is the name for the Shivering Soldier created by the lovely people over @henry-wilson​. Please heed the warnings the can be found in the notes of each individual chapter.
Chapters that contain explicit smut will be marked with 🔞 and have the appropriate warnings listed in their corresponding notes.
Masterlists: Main • Series
Previous Part • Next Part    
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Story
Chapter 1: Guilt
Chapter 2: Nerves
Chapter 3: Botany
Chapter 4: Broken
Chapter 5: The Belonging 🔞
Chapter 6: To Stop the Shivering
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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!
Previous Part • Next Part  
Masterlists: Main • Series 
21 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 1 month
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The Spread
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PAIR: Thomas Hewitt x f!Reader
WORD COUNT: 3.5k | MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: You hide and don't get slaughtered. Tommy secretly keeps you. He's kinda sweet if you're good.
WARNINGS: I8+ Canon-typical violence (implied) & setting, captivity, dark caretaking, manhandling, sleeper hold, oral f receiving, noncon unsafe piv, finger gagging, dark fluff, tommy has a praise kink, stockholm syndrome vibes. NO human skin mask: leather partial mask shown in photo. He is feral and naive due to his family. No use of Y/N. Divider by gasolinerainbowpuddles.
SIZE KINK - Reader is much smaller than Leatherface, can be carried and maneuvered. He is 6’5”, thicc and STRONG.
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You barely escaped the so-called law man, and your friends weren’t so lucky. They got chased right into the lair of a chainsaw-wielding giant.
“C’mon, Tommy,” the Sheriff encouraged the giant, “Just like the slaughterhouse.”
Heavy chains thrashed, and one of your friends groaned.
“Attaboy,” the Sheriff praised.
While they were distracted, you ducked into a nearby woodshed. You didn't dare go far – you had encountered too many hazards on the property to trust your footing, and couldn't risk calling attention. Instead, you sat there in the shed, paralyzed, listening to your friends get butchered. One by one, their squeals turned animalistic until a wet thwack or rev of a motor cut them off.
Finally, there were no more screams.
Huddled in a corner of the woodshed, you tried to keep your wits about you. The shed was about the size of a small dorm room. There were stacks of wood all around–some freshly cut, some rotted–and hay covered the floor.
You were in a tank top and Daisy dukes with cowboy boots that made you feel like an idiot. You had sap on your knees from crawling over the wood. Taking deep breaths did nothing but fill your nose with cedar - it was only a matter of time before you’d meet your fate. You picked splinters out of your hands as you replayed the chase in your mind. You began to feel sure “Tommy” had seen you run into the shed. If that was the case, you didn't know why he let you go. You could only guess he already had his hands full.
“Think we got’em all, son?” The Sheriff asked.
Tommy grunted.
“That’s my boy,” the Sheriff concluded.
-
Dusk was approaching. Not long after the Sheriff left, heavy footsteps crunched louder and louder toward the woodshed. Your heart pounded harder with each step. The rickety door busted open with a plume of dust. Tommy’s silhouette consumed almost all the daylight that remained.
The door frame would’ve been tall enough for most men, but Tommy had to duck on his way in. He carried an ax. Each step he took shook the entire structure. His breathing was loud, his mouth hanging open below the leather that covered his nose. The partial mask covered his chin too, but not his mouth. It was fastened with two straps behind his head nestled in thick, chestnut hair that came down around his shoulders.
He approached you cautiously and paused when he was an arm’s length away. You whimpered, knees held to your chest. He sniffed around like an animal. Then he brushed a stray section of hair out of his eyes, and you saw a glint of uncertainty in his gaze. You tried to compose yourself, wondering if your fear could trigger him.
He knelt down to get a better look at you. He reached for you, and you jumped. He grumbled and held up a massive finger less than an inch from your mouth, telling you to be quiet.
Something possessed you to reach for his hand. He let you move it.
You put his palm on your cheek and watched his chest heave in confusion.
He tilted his head and stayed crouched there for a moment, staring at you with his brown eyes softening above the leather.
“Attaboy,” you whispered, repurposing the Sheriff’s words.
Tommy huffed, then abruptly stood. He left the shed, ax slung over his shoulder. He ducked again on his way out.
He didn't return for a while. You finally dared to open the door just enough to look out, but not for long, startled by an older woman’s voice calling, “Tommy!!! Time for supper.” You shrunk back into your corner, afraid you had been spotted.
You sat there frozen, afraid to run.
-
Sometime later, you heard a squeaky wheel approach the shed. The door opened more quietly than it had the first time. The hulking silhouette was backlit by a buzzing floodlight in the yard. The man seemed to be more careful and quiet this time. He had brought a few blankets. One of them was tattered, pale yellow bordering what used to be white, and it had Care Bears on it. He put the blanket over your body, coming all the way up to your neck, and patted your head. Then he took a bundle of newspaper out from under his arm and handed it to you like an offering. It smelled like barbecue.
As he turned to leave, you whispered, “Tommy.”
He dropped his head and looked back.
“Thank you,” you said.
Looking at the wall, Tommy offered a short nod before leaving. Then he locked the door from the outside.
After he left, you opened the newspaper. It was too dark to see, but the contents felt like a charred bone with bits of flesh hanging to it. You weren't hungry anyway.
You wrapped yourself tight in the blanket, and to your discomfort, your heart fluttered at the man’s softness with you. You replayed the day’s harrowing events in your mind’s eye and saw him differently than you had at first. Maybe he was nothing but an attack dog. You began to doubt he would've hurt your friends at all if not for the older, more wicked man in uniform.
Maybe Tommy was as much of a prisoner as you were. You wondered if he could talk. You felt sure he could listen.
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After sunrise, you awoke to some commotion and heard a vehicle drive away. After a period of silence, you tried to open the door to the shed, but it was securely locked.
Soon, Tommy came back and unlocked it. He moved swiftly toward you with purpose in each heavy step, crouching slightly. The mass of his body strained his shirt. You'd never seen forearms like his. He could surely snap you like a twig, but something told you he wouldn't. Still, your heart raced when he lunged toward you. He reached over a wood pile and used both massive hands to force you onto your feet. He wrapped you in the blanket, then put you over his shoulder like a potato sack.
He put you into his wheelbarrow, then nestled some firewood around you. He looked around furtively as he did it. Then he covered you with another blanket and wheeled you across the bumpy ground, onto a smoother surface. He rolled a garage door down behind you and left you covered in the wheelbarrow as he rummaged around the garage.
You peeked out from the blanket and saw him placing shackles on a table. Your heart raced. You glanced behind you. The garage door was still lifted by a small margin. Maybe big enough to fit through.
You watched in terror as he brought out a mallet. Finally, your body unfroze.
You lowered yourself out of the wheelbarrow as carefully and quietly as you could and crawled toward the narrow opening. As you began to wriggle under it, your ass hit the door, making a noise far too loud to go unnoticed.
Within a split second, his massive hands were firm around your ankles, pulling you toward him, dragging you roughly across the concrete.
He manhandled you like a doll. He forced you onto your back and shook you, then wrapped a massive hand around your neck. Your life flashed before your eyes, and you kicked him. He grunted and grabbed you roughly by the shirt, then sat back on his knees. He held you with your back against his enormous thigh. Your Daisy dukes did nothing to protect your ass from the cold concrete. You thrashed, and he put the crook of his elbow around your neck, then everything faded.
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When you woke up, you were chained to the table, with cold, metal shackles on your wrists and one ankle. You were bottomless, and the air was cool between your legs. Your feet were bare. All you had left was your tank top, which you wore without a bra.
You didn't dare move. A foul dust in the air made you sneeze, then Tommy came into view. He was wearing a butcher’s apron, and the sleeves of his dingy, button-up shirt were rolled up to expose those big, hairy forearms. He held the mallet. His eyes were industrious.
“Please don't hurt me,” you begged.
He laid a heavy hand on your shin, and you flinched. He gently placed your free ankle in a shackle, then nailed it shut.
“Please,” you begged.
He laid a hand on your thigh and looked you in the eyes.
“What are you going to do to me?” You asked.
He huffed and put the mallet away.
You were relieved until he returned with a meat cleaver. You tensed and squirmed. He laid a hand on your stomach and his searing eyes told you to stay still. He slid the cleaver under your tank top, and you held your breath and looked at the ceiling. Your nipples hardened at the feeling of his knuckles between your breasts.
He violently sliced upward through the fabric, turning your wifebeater into a vest which burst open, freeing your breasts. He inhaled sharply at the sight and discarded the meat cleaver with a metallic clatter on a nearby shelf.
“Please,” you begged again, then he stuck his fingers in your mouth and peered in. His thick digits tasted like charcoal and salt. Three fingers were enough to stuff the orifice completely. When you stopped whining, he abandoned your mouth.
He cupped a breast, then cupped both of them. He hummed a curious “mm,” Then dragged his thumb down your sternum before stepping away to survey your body.
You felt like a cadaver sliced open for examination. As he slowly stalked around the table, it dawned on you that's what he was doing. He was studying you.
He stopped at a long side of the table – your left side. He brought his face–his leather mask–to your skin, just below your ribs. His hair fell onto your body, and the light brush of it tickled. He paused to loosen the strap at the back of his head. Then he dipped his face to your abdomen again. He turned his head and dragged his cheek, and the leather, over your bare stomach, to your breast. You could hear him desperately sniffing and wondered why he didn't take that thing off.
Lips, hair, and smooth leather dragged across your skin as he wiped his face along your chest. Then his face made its way into your armpit, where a dart of his tongue made you flinch and shiver. His tongue darted out again. He sucked the delicate skin slightly into his mouth before releasing it with a soft grunt.
He paused and pulled away. He pivoted to stand behind your head, then brought his hands to your breasts. Helowered his mouth to your neck and licked you. His hair fell on your nose and smelled like smoke and metal.
He seemed to savor the taste of your skin. He licked longer, harder, the strong slippery muscle of his tongue nudging your jugular. You felt a rush of arousal and shame. He tasted the other side of your neck and hummed in satisfaction. The throbbing between your legs made you wince.
He dragged his tongue down over your chest to lap at your breast. He flattened his tongue to lick your nipple, then began to suckle at it. One thing was clear - this was not for your enjoyment. He was entirely absorbed in what he was doing. He didn't even glance at your face. Whether it was for his pleasure or curiosity, you couldn't be sure. He moaned into your nipple and you knew you must have been gushing onto the table.
After a few seconds, he pulled away from your tit and began to sniff the air. He stalked around the table some more and paused at your shackled feet, staring up between your spread legs. He found the source. His hands dwarfed your thighs as he pushed them further apart. Then he dabbed a thick finger, only grazing your folds as he picked up just a taste of you from the table and brought it to his mouth.
“Mm,” he hummed quietly, staring between your legs. He licked his finger again and his eyes searched the air curiously. Then he grabbed your upper thighs and anchored his thumbs on your outer lips, spreading you open. His heavy gut rested on the table between your feet as he leaned forward. As he lowered his mouth to your cunt, you twitched and felt another rush of shame.
His breath was hot on your cunt, then he dipped his tongue, and you tensed.
He lapped at your entrance, and the physical pleasure made you exhale and relax, while your fear remained. He licked and sucked, and your moan echoed before you could try to cut it short. Your chest was hot with embarrassment, but if he heard the sound, he ignored it.
He fed on your juices like a starved animal. He sucked and slurped, and dug his lips and tongue in, searching for more. The squelching and gurgling sounds were obscene between your legs. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into your hips as he feasted.
The leather mask nudged your clit and made your hips lift into his mouth. He brought a hand to your lower belly to hold you still. Then his tongue plunged into you. You whispered, “good boy,” and your whole body felt weak with shame.
He paused and glanced up, then repeated the action. It was true, some part of you welcomed this, as afraid as you were. In any case, the heat and pressure building in your gut would have to release at some point.
He fucked you with his tongue, nudging your clit with the smooth leather, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You'd never been eaten so voraciously. He moaned into your cunt and the tension was too much to hold. You whimpered as you began to pulse and twitch. His tongue paused as you clenched around it. Then he continued. Your back arched as he sucked it all out of you, swallowing every drop he could find. As your climax waned, you took slow, deep breaths.
Finally, he slowed down. He looked flustered for a moment, then his hand disappeared from your thigh. He pulled his face away, and the leather mask was soaked and shiny. Then he took his apron off. When he stood to put the apron aside, the protrusion in his pants made your breath hitch and your asshole flutter.
Your cunt spasmed once around nothing, and your insides churned as though making room for a massive guest.
You couldn't peel your eyes away. He adjusted himself, then palmed the bulge. His shirt had come untucked. The bottom button wasn't fastened, and his midsection strained the other buttons as his whole torso heaved. He eyed the mess between your legs as he palmed himself.
He seemed to be considering the possibility of stuffing your cunt with whatever monstrosity hid in his pants. He could take anything he wanted, but he didn't look proud of it. This didn't feel like something he did every day.
You decided not to fight back. You told yourself it was for survival, but you also twitched at the thought of him wrecking you. You looked at his crotch, then down between your legs, still gushing at the sight of him barely contained by his pants. The way his whole body wanted to bust out of his clothes made you weak in the knees. He was so solid and strong. You looked again from his crotch to your own, as though your eyes were instructing where to put it in defiance of your better judgment.
He grumbled as he picked up a hammer and approached you, making your heart nearly stop.
He pried the nails out of the shackles, and you cursed yourself for the way your heart fell. Your disappointment was quickly replaced by relief. A man this size, with these capabilities – he could have done serious damage to your body.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You laid on the table patiently looking at the ceiling as he went down to your feet and unshackled your ankles.
Then he grabbed you by the thighs and yanked you toward the end of the table, making you yelp. Your naked crotch came to rest flush against the bulge in his pants, making you ache with arousal. Your thighs trembled in fear.
You looked down toward him and he forced your chin upward, making you look at the ceiling. You pinched your eyes shut. You were at war with your body’s desire. He might kill you. He might actually split you in two. The dying squeals of your friends echoed in your mind. But his hardness swelled against you, and oh, fuck.
His hips backed up and you twitched at the loss of his warm package against you.
With your eyes still pinched shut, you heard his clothes jostling, then he spread your lips apart while he notched his tip against you. It was too big. He held your thighs again and pulled you toward him with a forward thrust and a grunt.
Being impaled with his cock felt like being split open. The girth burned as it stretched you, and you whimpered as your body tried to accommodate him. He stayed inside, and he sighed. You'd never felt so stuffed. He leaned forward, and the contact with your clit provided some relief as your body spread itself more. But still, your heart raced at the prospect of him moving. You prayed he would be gentle.
When you didn't stop whimpering, he stuck his fat, smokey fingers in your mouth again. He placed his other hand on your chest to hold you still, with the crook of his thumb close to your throat. You gagged on his fingers and he removed them. He wiped your saliva onto your nipple before kneading your breast.
Thankfully, you were wet and getting wetter. He held you down and slammed into you. The fullness pushed your thoughts out of the way along with your guts. You kept your eyes shut as he speared into you again.
His breathing and grunting seemed to echo through the room with every snap of his hips. His unholy girth twitched against your walls. He grabbed onto your hips and brutally pounded you. He used you like a sleeve until his moans were drawn out and his breath became ragged. He pulled you back hard and leaned forward, the weight of him resting on your lower abdomen. Your cunt fluttered in anticipation of his climax, but he paused. Your hips lifted, seeking friction for your front.
He pulsed once, making your chest flutter with pleasure, but then he swiftly slid out. He left you twitching for more as he finished coming outside. His cum painted your folds and inner thigh, and he grumbled and turned around. You lowered your chin to look just in time for him to release onto the wheelbarrow and floor. Then he stood there with his broad back heaving as he looked around.
You closed your eyes again and opened them when you felt fabric on your inner thigh. He was wiping you off with the bottom of his shirt. His face and neck were blotched pink, and he had fixed his pants. He was looking at you, chest still heaving when his ears perked up at the distant sound of tires on gravel.
He quicky put your shorts back on and gathered you off the table, nestling you in the wheelbarrow once more. He swaddled you in the old blanket, now wet with his cum, and opened the garage before quickly wheeling you back to the shed.
He placed you in the corner where you had been, just in time for the truck to park. As he turned to leave the shed, you said “Tommy. Can you bring me some water?”
He hesitated then gave a short nod before locking the shed again behind him.
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He came back later with a jar of water and a metal bucket. You were shivering in the corner when he came in. He set the bucket down next to you, then placed his hand on the crown of your head and gently moved his fingers as he looked around. Then he abruptly began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled you up from the corner to put the shirt on you. His chest was hairy and broad, and his entire torso was thick, just massive.
“Good Tommy,” you said as he finished putting the shirt on you.
He paused and left it unbuttoned. His eyes were big. He held you by the sides, looking you up and down in the oversized shirt and Daisy dukes. Then he put you back where you were and locked the shed behind him.
The shirt was filthy, cumstained, and reeked of sweat, but it didn’t smell as bad as it should've. It didn't make you sick like it should've. When he left, you wrapped it tight around yourself, then looked in the bucket. There were apples.
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Thank you for reading and engaging! Love you guys 🖤 please consider commenting even if this is old. It helps to know what you liked.
If you want more, good news - I have more thots! Feel free to send yours, too.
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fr-ogii · 4 months
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daisy chains
luke castellan
x child of demeter!reader; poc friendly
masterlist
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you often find yourself sitting on a random hill at camp, letting the warm morning sun soak into your skin and the slightly damp grass leave soft green stains on your jean shorts. you fiddle with the grass, often pulling out one or two strands and braiding them.
over, under, over, under. the patterned motion relaxes you as it continues. over, under, over, under.
you toss the strands of grass aside and opt for the daisies that lay around you. it was probably bad karma to rip flowers out of the ground and your mother would probably be at least a bit peeved if she saw you do this. it didn’t matter much to you, you never met demeter and didn’t feel indebted to her in any way. you could make as many daisy chains as you wanted, no one could stop you.
it was similar to how eliza, your friend from athena, would make paper stars whenever she got anxious. your daisy chains and her paper stars were just motions.
either way, luke didn’t mind your habit. he thought it was cute how your twitching hands could make such a beautiful little thing. the intricate braids laced around white daisies and took shape of whatever you wished. sometimes it became a crown. others, it was a necklace. you tried to make a bracelet once, but it fell apart and you hadn’t tried since, instead sticking to what you were more confident in.
speaking of luke, the son of hermes was making his way over to you. “what’re you doing up?”
“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile so soft it rivaled your voice, unnecessarily quiet as to not wake any campers.
perhaps unknowingly following your example, luke lowered his voice as well, despite being far away from any cabins and not being loud to begin with. “you got me there. i was gonna go to the range to practice the bow, you know i’ve been trying to improve?” he added a lilt to the end of his sentence as if he was asking a question.
it took you a second to process what he was saying. “no… i didn’t know that. why? you’ve seemed fine with the bow last i saw you, no?”
“see!” he put emphasis on that word, as if he had proved you wrong. “i seemed fine, not good. big difference, love.” he looked down at your hands, noticing for the first time what you were fiddling with. “you wanna come join? i’m sure there’re plenty of flowers over by the range.”
your smile continued to widen at the goofy expression luke held, clearly proud of himself for finding a way to get you to join him. most times, luke preferred to practice his weaknesses by himself — that was why he was up so early, after all — but he always appreciated when you joined him. he called you his “good luck charm.”
“of course i’ll come, luke.” you popped up off the ground, now no longer as damp as it once was. green stains from the grass painted your shorts, but you ignored them. your hands scurried to snatch up the daisy chain that laid on the ground right below you. the chain was quickly stitched into a crown before you placed it on luke’s head. it was slightly too big and almost fell in front of his eyes.
he linked arms with you and the both of you continued down the hill, sitting course for the range.
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not proofread
my tags are also rlly glitchy so pls excuse if any of them are wrong
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mooshywrites · 3 months
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Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gender neutral human crush putting a flower ring on their left ring finger because it fits? They took a moment to realise that they're also wearing their flower ring on their left hand which they thought it's like they're married to him 😳
This is so cute, I can’t :,)
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Masterlist
Art commissions
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Astarion -
~ Astarion didn’t really pay much mind to whatever you were making with flowers
~ So far, he’d relented to you making him a flower crown, a bracelet, even a clumsily put together necklace out of the daisy patch near the camp
~ When you finally managed to make two rings, you were more preoccupied with whether Astarion’s would fit rather than what finger you had put your own on
~ Astarion held out his left hand when you asked, continuing to read his book when you slipped the ring over his finger
~ When you were done, he looked over it approvingly before looking at the band on your own left ring finger.
~ You realized what he too had noticed, hiding your blushing face as he smirked triumphantly
~ “My darling, if you wanted to pin me down forever, you only need ask.”
Gale -
~ Gale was an excellent student, paying close attention as you taught him how to weave together flower rings
~ He wanted to make one for everyone in camp, quickly getting the hang of the craft
~ When you both had finished a set, he smiled and said you should trade, so you’d each have a piece of each other
~ You distractedly said yes, holding out your hand
~ You didn’t notice he had put it on your left ring finger until you were done doing the same
~ Gale seemed to have caught on before you, smiling brightly as he looked over his own ring
~ “Who knew proposal was so easy!”
Wyll -
~ Wyll loved taking small naps in the grass when the sun was still high
~ Today, he convinced you to come and sit with him in the field, relaxing on a small picnic blanket
~ You mostly started weaving flower rings just to keep away boredom, but soon began making one for Wyll
~ He noticed what you were doing and tried copying the movements, hoping you wouldn’t point out how messy his rings looked
~ He jokingly held out his left hand, lifting his ring finger for you to put the ring, not expecting you would do it
~ Not catching onto his joke, you did
~ The color drained from your face in embarrassment as you realized what you had done
~ Wyll would just laugh and kiss your cheek, sliding the ring he made onto your finger
~ “I’ll make a better one when I truly ask for you to be mine.”
Halsin -
~ Halsin very much enjoyed the time the both of you spent in nature
~ He’d tell you little things he knew about everything around you as you wound together flowers
~ You stared off by putting flowers in his hair, quickly moving to adorning all of him in the little buds
~ He just chuckled and let you, not pointing out that you had put the first ring on his left ring finger
~ He smiled, warmth filling his chest at your sweet mistake
~ He’d take a ring from you, slipping it over your own ring finger
~ Only then did it dawn on you what you had done. Halsin didn’t even give you a chance to walk it back before pulling you into a tight bear hug
~ “Now even nature binds us together for eternity”
Dammon -
~ Dammon loved when you played with flowers, usually it ended with him with a little wreath of nature around his horns
~ Today, he was hell bent on learning how to make the wreaths himself
~ All of his attempts were… lacking to say the least. Each one was tiny and thin
~ You assured him they were beautiful and that they were the perfect size to be a ring
~ To prove it, you quickly placed one on the first finger you got to
~ You didn’t understand why he blushed so deeply until he took your hand in his, slipping one onto your ring finger
~ His expression was so shy and sweet, you didn’t have the heart to admit it had been an accident
~ “I always knew you’d be the first to ask”
Rolan -
~ Rolan didn’t really see the point of flower rings, but the smile you gave him had him desperate to learn
~ He patiently watched you work, impressed with how quickly you could wind together a small ring
~ He picked up the finished project, studying it carefully
~ After a minute, he’d not as if he had decided something, asking if he could have it
~ You were so excited he liked it, that you didn’t notice that it was his left hand you slid the ring onto, not his right
~ He grinned when you did, demanding you make another one to put on your ring finger
~ “Perhaps these flower rings aren’t so useless after all.”
Zevlor -
~ Zevlor was a little hesitant to let you cover him in flower crafts, but how could he ever say know to your fluttering lashes
~ He sat with a huff, letting you drape little rings around his horns, decorating them beautifully
~ He held out his hand with a grumble when you asked to put a ring on him, his left hand first since you were standing on that side
~ You unknowingly slipped it over his left ring finger, distracted by the wreath that was coming undone on one of his horns
~ He chuckled when he noticed, pulling a small band off his horn and putting it on your ring finger
~ His would kiss your nose sweetly, enjoying the embarrassed blush that crawled across your face
~ “I would’ve let you pretty me up with flowers sooner if it meant this.”
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