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joooooniecore · 3 days ago

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The wrong Kim?

mingyuxfem!reader, friends to lovers, Reader as a florist, Mingyu as a businessman, idiots in love

PLOT: You never expected to come face to face with your childhood best friend and teenage crush Kim Mingyu again. But here you are, as he stands in your flower shop, trying to choose bouquets for a big wedding.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit scenes, foul language, minors dni, smut scene has been marked, skip if uncomfortable

_____________

"There is a wedding in Mr. Kim's family. His son is getting married and you are hired as the florist."

That was definitely not the first thing you wanted to hear as soon as you opened the shop early in the morning.

Let's start from the very beginning.

You are a very expertized and famous florist, born and raised in a very middle-class family, in a small town. You picked on the art of flower arrangement at a very young age. Like every typical parent, your mother and father wanted you to pursue some big level corporate job but you were never good at those. Being more indulged in creativity, you decided to attend an arts school, and later did a course on floral arrangements. Currently, you earn an ample amount of money just by doing this exact job for various luxurious occasions all around the city and also outside of the city.

Now comes the question of Mr. Kim. Kim family is one of the oldest families of the town and even played a big role in the advancement of the town. They are very well known in this area and fall under the high-class families. Mr. Kim is the third generation in the family and he has two sons, elder Kim Minhyuk and younger, who is the same age as that of you, Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu and you used to be the best of friends since middle school. Mingyu's father has always adored you and the dedication you had for certain things. It was Mingyu's father who insisted your family to let you study whatever you want.

The trouble started when you both reached high school. Mingyu became sort of popular because of his looks and that created a rift between the two of you. Mingyu would have people flock around him and they would talk poorly about you.

You soon got caught up on every single thing everyone said and decided to distance yourself. And that was how the greatest fight between you and Mingyu happened where he wanted a reason about the distance and you were stubborn enough to not give him that. You both went on your own ways after graduation.

The only issue? Neither of your parents knew about how bad the fight was. Hence, they still think that Mingyu and you are friends.

Back to the present, you knew this day would come. You knew that if Mingyu gets married, he would hire you as the florist. You nodded your head almost in a robotic way and went inside the small office room. You have several branches of this flower shop in many neighbouring cities with employees hired that satisfy your style of decoration. You only maintain the shop in your hometown.

It's a medium sized shop at the farthest corner of a busy street. The shop sits in between a book shop, that is run by an old man and a coffee shop that has recently opened. The shop itself has two floors. The lower level is mostly the counter area and certain non-floral arrangement pieces while the upper floor is completely filled with flowers of every variety. You have a small office on the lower level where you experiment on different arrangements whenever you have no orders to attend to.

You sat on your chair as your eyes wandered to the photo on the shelf. It was an old photo, of you and Mingyu when you were in middle school. Both friends were sticking to each other, Mingyu’s hands wrapped securely around your shoulder while you could barely reach your hands around him. The smiles wide. You could almost hear the giggles through the picture. Your smile was soft, as if you were shy from all this affection while Mingyu gave his infamous lopsided smile that showed his sinful canines.

Did you mention that you had a crush on Mingyu? No right?

Well, that was one of the reasons you distanced yourself because you knew Mingyu would never reciprocate your feelings and that would probably ruin the friendship you both had. You were also scared of heartbreak because in your mind, Mingyu could never fall for you. That was something you have buried deep in yourself but now it seems to resurface.

The thought of Mingyu marrying is gnawing the inside of your skin. You knew this day would come and you have always imagined yourself to be fine with it. You were sure that the crush was just a stupid uproar of emotions but now hearing the news, your insides churned. You were not at all ready to watch Mingyu marry someone else. It did seem selfish because you were the one to broke the friendship but now, you can't help the feeling of anxiousness.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts as you whispered a soft 'come in'. Your employee opened the door and walked in.

"Noona, Mr. Kim's son is here to discuss about the floral arrangements.", said Chan.

You stared at him wide eyed and then replied in a stammering voice, "A-Ask him to sit down. I will be out in a second."

You shooed your employee away as you drank some water and took deep breathes. You had no idea why the mere thought of coming face to face with Mingyu made you such a mess. It’s not like the former knows about your feelings but you were scared to even think about that. After a quick pep talk, you decided to open the door and walk to the storefront.

The moment you came round the corner, you saw Mingyu sitting there. Your steps halted as you took the guy in. Mingyu has no doubt grown even more taller, probably above 6 feet. He doesn't wear shabby clothes anymore. He is dressed in a shirt and pants for god's sake. And he is bulked up. Your eyes racked his entire form and you were in awe at how big and strong his arms looked as they strained against the fabric of the shirt when he pushed his hair back. The rolled sleeves made you go crazy. You gulped and proceeded forward as if nothing was bothering you.

"Hello Mingyu-ssi.", your voice came out breathier than expected.

Mingyu's head shot up to you, his eyes going wide as he widely smiled.

"I didn't know I would have the honour of meeting the CEO of ___'s bloom room.", Mingyu teased as he got up and forwarded his hand for a handshake.

You stared at his hand for a few seconds before forwarding your own ones for a handshake. The former's grip so firm that it had your head reeling. Your hands weren’t that small but still got totally engulfed in the warmth of Mingyu's palm. You quickly retracted away from the warmth, and nervously chuckled.

"It has been a while I see. What can I do for you?", you asked in a professional tone.

Mingyu smiled and replied, "Well I came here to see some of your best floral arrangements. I will click few pictures and show them to Yuna for confirmation."

The name brought you back on earth. The way Mingyu casually said the name cleared every doubt you had. You did have a small hope that it was Mingyu's brother who was getting married but guess not. Mingyu won't call his brother's fiancé by her name this casually. Hence, Mingyu was surely getting married and you were basically lusting over a married man. Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach, you asked Mingyu to follow you to the upper floor of the shop.

The upper floor of the shop was full of flowers of every kind. From roses of at least 40 different colours to orchids that are mostly shipped from other areas. Mingyu walked through the entire floor, observing every flower and asking questions about the meaning of each one.

"Wow you know a lot about flowers.", Mingyu commented.

You rolled your eyes and replied, "That's literally my job Kim."

Mingyu laughed at your arrogance and said, "Show me some of your arrangements."

You nod your head as you walk up to this big cabinet and bring out a thick file that has pictures of every floral arrangement you have ever made. You keep it on the table and open it to the page which has the wedding section in it. Passing it over to Mingyu for him to have a look, you stand there nervously.

Mingyu skims through the arrangements and pauses on one, "Tell me about this."

You bend over to look at the one he is pointing. It's a simple arrangement, using mostly roses and few carnations. You explain how each rose shows a different kind of affection and the red and pink carnations simply mean love and attraction. Mingyu then scans over to the more exotic sections and stops on another one. This time it has a special variety of orchid in it, along with few roses and baby's breath. You heartily explained every flower and how they were woven together to make these arrangements.

You then decide to show him a live example of the flowers you arrange and went inside the store room to bring out a massive arrangement that you made recently for a big wedding.

"Well, this one was made by me so that I can send pictures to the other store I have in nearby city. They made a replica of it for one of our customers.", you explained.

You placed the arrangement on the table and were going to step aside when Mingyu came and stood behind you. The distance so less as Mingyu towered over your head, slightly bending a little to examine the flowers. The way Mingyu's hot breath fanned right near your right ear, caused an uproar of goosebumps all over your body.

He whispered right behind your ear, "Wow this one is beautiful.", the low timbre of his voice causing you to melt right on the spot. You had no idea how someone could affect you on this level. You really wanted to ignore the uproar of butterflies in your belly but with Mingyu being like this, it was tougher than you thought.

You cleared your throat and softly nudged Mingyu to move away as you walked to the other end of the table to pick up the file and place it back to where it was. Taking a deep breath, you walk up to Mingyu to pick up the arrangement and safely place it in its glass case.

Honestly, you had no idea why Mingyu wants to know so much about the floral arrangements. Normally when people do come to the shop, they just allow you to choose one and if the arrangement looks pretty then they go with it. At most times it is as simple as roses and few carnations. No one has ever asked you the meaning of the flowers you use.

On the other hand, you were pleased that Mingyu was asking you about the flowers. You always had a passion about knowing information related to different flowers. There was a time when you would blabber all day about different flowers that you learned from the internet. Your mother and sister would actually beg you to shut up about it. After you went through a harsh breakup just a year back, you had stopped talking so passionately about flowers. Your ex never tolerated it and would often joke about your job. You being stupid, ignored the flaws and that was your biggest mistake.

"____?", Mingyu's voice and strong grip on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, were you saying something?", you asked dumbly.

"Yeah. I was asking your permission to click pictures of the arrangements.", informed Mingyu.

You nodded and said, "Uhm you can do that or I can send you the digital copy of the ones you selected."

Mingyu's eyes sparkled at the idea and he enthusiastically nodded, "Yes that would be great!"

You took Mingyu down to your office and made him sit on a chair across your own seat. You opened the files that were separated by the types and began searching the ones Mingyu asked for.

Meanwhile Mingyu's eyes wandered around the small room in which the two of you were seated in. Mingyu has always admired the passion that you had for floral arrangements. Even when you both were in high school, you would talk all day about various flowers and it really made Mingyu smile. Your eyes would light up whenever you talked about your favourite flowers and that was what Mingyu loved the most.

When he entered the shop, he had made up his mind to not get awkward when he comes face to face with you. The fight you both had in the end of high school still lingers on his mind and he has still no idea why you distanced yourself. He knew how everyone talked shit about you but he never allowed those bad stuffs to get in between the friendship. Mingyu was lost without you.

When he waited for you to walk up to him while he was seated at the storefront, he thought he was going to be fine with it. But the moment he saw you, his knees grew weak. You looked beautiful, like you always had. In high school, you were extremely shy and would always wear baggy clothes and a messy bun. No one really looked at you in the same way that they looked at other girls. You were only included in a conversation if someone needed help with something and that always boiled Mingyu’s blood. He was somehow glad that no one had a crush on you because deep down Mingyu did nurture one.

As you walked up to him wearing a soft peach button up shirt along with white pants, he knew he was a goner. You had always had these soft curls that extended up to your waist which Mingyu adored. Your soft delicate features, big almond eyes and pink cheeks just made Mingyu go crazier.

Now sitting across you in this small office, he couldn't help but wander his eyes to the different prizes and pictures that adorn the walls. He scans through the various prizes, each signifying the excellency of your craftsmanship. His eyes paused on a frame amidst the big certificates. The frame itself is a bit old and also the picture framed in it. He squints his eyes for a better look and that's when he sees it.

"I-Is that our picture?", he asked involuntarily.

You visibly malfunction as you give a weak nod without even sparing Mingyu an eye. You really thought you were going to combust from embarrassment. You had forgotten about the picture and now you somewhat regret it. When no response comes from Mingyu, you panic and look up to check on your guest.

Mingyu's eyes were fixated on that frame as his eyes flickered with a small feeling of want and desperation. He really hated the distance that was created between you both and now seeing that you still thought him to be important, made his heart stutter.

"I hated how we drifted apart.", Mingyu said when he sensed a worried pair of eyes on him.

You had already forwarded all the pictures to the phone number that Mingyu gave. You closed your laptop and without even thinking, move forward to hold Mingyu's hand. You have always been sensitive to Mingyu's feelings. You could easily guess when the latter was feeling vulnerable.

"Yaa Mingyu-ah, we were kids. It’s fine. We can again start again as friends.", you softly smiled.

"Hello, I am ___.", you playfully informed and waited for Mingyu to introduce himself.

Mingyu gave a wet laugh as he wiped his tears and said, "I am Kim Mingyu."

Your heart swelled as you smiled widely, "Can we be friends?"

Mingyu laughs and nods, "Yes we can be."

You both talk for a while, catching up on everything. Mingyu talks about the wedding with hearts in his eyes. He is apparently actively taking part to make sure that nothing goes wrong. You were no stranger to the passion that Mingyu emitted whenever he did something. Seeing Mingyu talk about his wedding with such utmost care made your insides churn. You mentally scolded yourself for not being happy for your best friend but deep down you hated how you lost your chance to confess what you felt anymore.

"So, ____, any relationships?", asked Mingyu as he sipped on the cold drink that you offered.

You hated how easily the nickname rolled of Mingyu's tongue and how it made you instantly blush.

"You are blushing! Who is it?", asked Mingyu feigning happiness.

"No one currently. I broke up with my ex just last year.", you informed with a sad tone.

Mingyu nodded his head and asked, "Who was it then?"

"His name was Mark.", you said, the name tasting bitter on your tongue.

"Why did you both break up?", came the next question.

This was the question you dreaded. You hated reliving the moments through the stories and so at most times you avoided the topic of your sunken relationship. Mingyu nudged you a bit as it brought you back to the present. He repeated the question just to make sure that you caught on it.

"Uhm nothing its uhm he was a bit toxic and then he cheated so I broke up.", you answered, clearly not sure why you were blabbering.

Mingyu visibly stiffened as he said through gritted teeth, "I would have his head if I meet him someday."

You could see the anger in his eyes. It made you laugh as you tried to pacify the situation. It did break your heart when you broke up with Mark but you were much happier now with your job and single life.

The conversation came to an end when Chan came in and informed about a customer waiting for you. Bidding goodbyes, you went out to see him off and Mingyu promised to visit again with the decisions that Yuna has made.

________

Two days passed by in a daze. You were mostly busy with orders and making new kinds of arrangements to put in your monthly magazine. Every month you published a digital magazine which has unique arrangements exclusively made by you. Many people from different areas buy those arrangements and it helps you boost the sale. You informed your mother about the encounter with Mingyu which made her extremely happy.

Mingyu came to the shop the next day to inform about the ones that were selected. He gave the number of orders and paid a certain amount in advance. You quickly noted down the order and the delivery date.

After small talking for a while, Mingyu asked, "When do you close?"

You didn't quite understand the reason of the question but answered nevertheless, "Around 5."

Mingyu smiled mischievously and said, "Let's go to the new restaurant that has opened in the area. My treat."

Your heart stuttered a bit. You were not sure if you should allow yourself to be this close to Mingyu. He was very kind to you and the way he talked with so much tenderness, made your heart suffer. You were trying hard to not fall more for this married man but the way Mingyu expectantly looked at you with starry eyes, made you agree to the plan.

"Fine. Let's go.", you sighed and Mingyu clapped enthusiastically.

The day went by agonizingly slow. You had to attend to a very arrogant customer who hated every flower arrangement that you showed and finally settled on not buying anything after wasting almost 2 hours. Then you had to work on Mingyu's order and while cutting the stem, your finger accidently grazed at the edge of the blade, causing a blood massacre on your desk and papers. You quickly cleaned everything up and took a quick shower in the restroom itself. You secured the wound with a band-aid and wore the outfit you had asked Chan to bring from your home. You weren’t wearing anything fancy today for your work fit so you wanted to at least look presentable for the dinner place.

Sharp at 5 pm, a car stopped in front of the shop. You were just closing everything when there was the sound of the door opening. You switched off the lights of the office room, and came out into the front area only to find Mingyu leaning against the door frame of the shop, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a white shirt and black dress pants. The tie loosened to give him a more laid-back fit and his hair was styled which made his face look even more sculpted.

You gulped as you controlled your desire to run your fingers all over Mingyu's body. Walking up to Mingyu, you gave him a soft tap on his arm to notify him that you were ready to go.

"Wow you clean up good, ____-ah.", complimented Mingyu to which you playfully hit him and ignored the blush that rose on your cheeks.

Mingyu's car was parked just outside the shop. It was a beautiful car with very slick design. You didn't know much about cars but this one looked expensive as hell. Mingyu walked up to it and unlocked the door, opening the passenger door to allow you to settle in.

"You have a nice car.", you said as soon as Mingyu settled on the driver's seat.

"Thanks. I love this car so much.", Mingyu glowed due to the compliment as he drove both of you to the restaurant.

Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off you the whole ride. According to him, you were looking breathtakingly beautiful. When you walked up to him after closing your shop, Mingyu had to control himself from draping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Mingyu always knew that he had feelings for you but never really got a chance to actually ask you out. Now that he was back for good, thanks to his brother's wedding, he can take all his time to win you back.

The exterior of the restaurant seemed very calming as trees decorated the driveway. Mingyu got out of the car first after parking it and held your door for you to come out.

"Reservation under Mr. Kim?", asked Mingyu as soon as he entered the restaurant along with you. You bowed gently to the waiter as you handed your coat to him. Then you both settled on one of the tables and silently skimmed through the menu card.

After ordering some food, you both sat in silence waiting for one of you to speak. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but you felt your heart rate increase every time you looked at Mingyu. Mingyu was looking around the restaurant, trying to take it all in but all you could do was admire him.

"They successfully made a very cozy place. Isn't it ____?", asked Mingyu finally after his wandering eyes zeroed on your face.

You nodded and said, "Yes. It's very beautiful here."

After what felt like hours, the order arrived. The once empty table was now filled with delicious cuisines that smelled like heaven. Your mouth watered as you beamed. Mingyu giggled at how cute you were acting as he got up to serve you the dinner.

"Ah Mingyu-ah! I can do it myself.", you said, trying to stop him.

"What? I invited you here! How can I let you do that?", winked Mingyu as he calmly plated the food.

The food was absolutely delicious and you moaned as soon as you took a bite of the tender chicken. Your eyes closed as your head fell back trying to remember this feeling of delicious food.

Mingyu couldn't help but trace an invisible line along your lips and down your neck. The sound of your moans from the taste of the food, went straight to a part of Mingyu he can't even explain. Chugging a bit of water, he took another bite of the food but all he could think of was tasting your lips.

"Oh, before I forget!", you exclaimed as you took out a small gift-wrapped box from your purse.

"There you go.", you handed it to him with a hesitant smile.

"What is this? I didn't bring a gift for you.", Mingyu pouted.

"Oh no. This is for the wedding. A congratulatory gift?", you quickly explain, slightly embarrassed under his intense scrutiny.

"Why are you giving it to me?", a confused Mingyu asked.

You stared at him dumbfoundedly, "What do you mean?"

There was a moment of silence before Mingyu's eyes went wide and he started laughing heartily. His laugh confused you even more as all you could do was stare and wait for Mingyu to explain why he was laughing.

"My dear ____-nie, did you think that I am getting married?", teased Mingyu.

Your eyes went wide, "You are not!?"

Mingyu moved his head in a definitive no and said, "No you idiot. My brother is getting married. He is also a Kim, remember?"

"But...but you call your brother's wife's name so casually.", you pointed out.

"That's because she is my friend. We went to the same college and when my brother went to stay with me for a year for his job, he fell in love with her.", explained Mingyu.

"You didn't mention that.", you accused Mingyu as you crossed your hands over your chest and pouted.

"I thought you knew. Everyone in town knows about it.", Mingyu said as he laughed.

"Geez fine. Just give the gift to Minhyuk hyung then.", you said as you sat up straight.

Mingyu raised his hand and asked for a bill and said, "You are seriously so dumb wow."

You couldn't say anything as you grumbled. You really thought that Mingyu was getting married. A part of you felt a sense of relief as you thought that you still had a chance to confess but the other part was not ready to face the consequences of the confession.

After the bill was paid by Mingyu who skilfully didn't even let you see the amount and just said, "I invited you."

After settling in the car, you decided to tease him. The car was still in the parking area since Mingyu was still getting settled in the car after putting both of the coats in the backseat.

"It’s sad honestly. I thought that finally I would get a chance to be someone's grooms-lady at their wedding.", you teased Mingyu.

Mingyu looked at you and with stern eyes which then turned into a mischievous glint. He then abruptly came close, his face just inches apart as one of his hands went up to your waist and settled there. All the teasing and plotting that you had in your head vanished as all you could feel was the warmth of Mingyu’s hand that grazed up and down your waist.

You gulped and whispered, "Wha- What are you doing?"

"I don't know about grooms-lady but you could be my lady. How does that sound?", Mingyu thickly whispered in your ear.

You whimpered at the sensation as you managed to say, "And how are you planning to do that?"

Mingyu smirked as he could see the bravery drain out of your face inch by inch. He has noticed the way you looked at him and he really didn't want to miss the chance.

"First, I would like to kiss you. Like right now. After that if you give me permission, then I will take you back to my apartment.", Mingyu explained in a steady voice but the lust was pretty much visible in the way he eyed you up and down.

Your entire body was on fire. You squirmed under the hot gaze of Mingyu. Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all hot and heavy, trying to consume the other. Your brain was fogged entirely, clouded by the smoke of fire burning between the two of you.

The kiss left your mind in shambles as you breathed heavily.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment love?", asked Mingyu in a raspy voice and all you could do was nod. Your mouth was closed shut as your mind was clouded with lust.

"Please take me Gyu.", you finally spoke, in a lust laden voice as you looked at Mingyu with eyes feigning innocence.

Mingyu tongued the inside of his cheek before sliding himself back onto the seat and roared the engine of the car back to life. Meanwhile your hands traced his forearms, skimming up his biceps and then down.

"You are so big Gyu.", you whispered almost to yourself.

The drive to the apartment was painfully long. The moment Mingyu entered the lift with you, his hands shifted up to your waist and pulled you flush to his sturdy chest. The gentle yet firm grip, pulled a breathy gasp out of you. Normally, you would be embarrassed about being so turned on by such minimal action, but not now. Not when you knew Mingyu was going to turn you into putty in his hands.

!!SMUT WARNING!!

You both entered the empty apartment and Mingyu quickly locked the door before pushing your front against the door while pressing against your ass.

Mingyu's lips grazed behind your ear as he whispered, "Don't you feel it love?"

Your eyes slipped shut and your head fell back against his shoulder while he mouthed over the sensitive spots on your neck.

"Feels good, yeah?" Mingyu said, voice low. You struggled to even nod.

"Tell me, ____."

"Mm-mph, good, feels good," you breathed out, chest constricting and stomach turning as Mingyu's right hand made its way over your tummy and dipped lower and lower.

"Mingyu, please.", you didn't even know what you were asking for now.

Mingyu let out a cocky snort, which you would have been more irritated by had he not finally reached below your waist and grazed his palm across your achingly aroused core.

Your hips bucked instantly, already feeling sweat bead at your hairline. Working his hand up and down your clothed cunt, over the flimsy dress that you wore, at a dizzyingly slow pace, putting pressure in all the right areas, while the other hand caresses the dip in your waist.

Mingyu pulled you over to the nearby couch. He sat there on the couch and made you settle on his thighs, chests pressed against each other. You slowly moved your hips rhythmically, moaning and groaning at the feeling of the thick thighs against your clothed core.

"Feels good right?", asked Mingyu as he gripped your waist and created even more friction between the bodies.

"You are such a dirty girl ____. Coming just from my thighs. Gonna make my pants all messy right baby?", panted Mingyu as you increased your pace.

Just as you felt yourself nearly reach the peak, Mingyu lifted both of you up from the couch, leaving you whining. Before you could open your mouth to complain, Mingyu picked you up effortlessly and took you to the bedroom before throwing you on the bed gently but firmly. Pulling your legs around his waist, Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all teeth and tongue as he devoured your mouth like a starving man. Familiar calloused fingers stroked your thighs, suddenly gripping them tightly.

You felt yourself get wet from the way Mingyu's big hands wrapped around you so effortlessly. You threw your arms around Mingyu's neck while the latter placed a hand on the small of your back to support you, pushing you closer in a way that made your clothed cores rub against one another, leaving you shamelessly rutting for more.

Mingyu got up and tugged his half-opened shirt out of the way. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the toned chest. Mingyu was bulked up and in all the right places. His biceps were huge and sturdy while his chest was so perfectly crafted that it made your mouth water.

"Fuck, you are so big.", you almost moaned when you felt the ripple of muscles beneath your delicate fingers as you traced a line across Mingyu's chest. Mingyu laughed as he dipped again to trail kisses down your body, leaving marks wherever he pleased. He cupped your one breast with his one palm, massaging and twisting the nipple to send delicious shocks all across your body while his mouth sucked the other one with a new found determination which left you writhing under his hot gaze.

Your brain was fogged entirely. Mingyu's hand dipped below your back to firmly grip your ass, which caused you to jerk forward with a squeak.

Mingyu broke the kiss and asked, "You want this?"

You nodded fervently, lips swollen and red, head reeling with need.

"Words, baby."

A whine, then, "Please, Gyu, need you."

Mingyu smiled into a quick kiss planted on your lips. "So good at listening, baby." Mingyu took your both wrists and held them with his one hand abruptly, riling you up even further, if that was possible at this point.

He stepped back slightly and raked his eyes over you for a moment.

"You're gorgeous."

You squirmed and reddened under his lustful gaze, a dazed smile on your face, "Click a picture. It would last longer"

Mingyu returned the crooked grin, "Can't risk anyone else seeing you like this."

You blushed at the possessiveness that Mingyu portrayed. You always liked being with someone who will have eyes only on you and seeing how Mingyu took you all in like you were a goddamn masterpiece, made you even more shy.

After pulling back and rummaging through his bedside drawer and securing a condom, Mingyu returned and kneeled in between your legs. He slowly tugged at your panties, pulling it down. You sucked in through your teeth at the chill on your feverishly hot skin. In this way, you felt incredibly vulnerable and shy all of a sudden, flinging your arms over your eyes to cover your crimson face.

The moment Mingyu realized that you were trying to hide your face, his grip on your hands were back as he looked at the squirming you firmly and said, "Don't look away. I want you to watch me while I devour you."

You gulped.

"Understood darling?", Mingyu demanded.

You nodded but Mingyu wasn't satisfied.

"Words my girl. Words."

"Yes. Yes sir.", you smirked mischievously.

All the blood from Mingyu's brain went to his dick the moment he registered what you called him.

"Keep calling me that and you will see the consequences.", Mingyu warned.

"I would love that sir.", you said again and all hell broke loose.

Mingyu teased the pussy and whispered a “so wet for me” before a slicked-up finger was pushed in through your entrance. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, quickly stolen in a kiss by Mingyu, as the finger breached.

"You, okay?"

"You're not gonna break me, Gyu.", you said, far weaker and more desperate than you had intended for it to come out.

"We will see about that.", Mingyu said with a smirk.

Huh? Before you could register, Mingyu's finger slowly pushed in and out, causing every nerve in your brain to disconnect. You couldn't even remember the last time someone made you feel this good, if ever.

Mingyu gripped the milky flesh of your thigh while sliding a second finger in beside the first one. Your hips jerked, which Mingyu moved to pin down to the soft plush of the bed.

The pace of his hand was excruciatingly slow, seemingly determined to unravel the very fibre of your flesh and bones in the most glorious way.

Your mind was covered by a haze, and after what could have been a couple minutes, or many, Mingyu slid a third finger in.

You choked out a moan, babbling Mingyu's name and begging for some merciful relief.

"So perfect for me, ____," Mingyu pressed deeper inside until he was massaging that sweet spot while simultaneously scissoring his fingers open ever so slightly. You whined loudly, back curving and hands scrambling to grab onto the well-muscled arms splitting you apart at the seams.

"Gyu, please, I need- now, please."

The hand previously holding your hip moved to your thigh, spreading you open further.

"You can come like this, yeah? You're so good, ____, so good at listening to me."

Your brain melted like wax out of your ears, skull hollowed out so all you could think about was Mingyu's voice echoing in your headspace.

"Come on, angel, don't think about it, just feel it."

With a noisy cry, you gasped out Mingyu's name before coming hard, creaming Mingyu’s fingers, legs twitching in Mingyu's grasp as you came undone.

Your climax did nothing to stop Mingyu, as he immediately lined his own cock to your cunt and slammed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, shut with overwhelming pleasure and the sting of overstimulation.

"You can give me another, right angel?" Mingyu’s hips bucked forward with such sheer precision and strength that it left you in a babbling mess. You nodded weakly, now panting and gasping as you whispered Mingyu's name like some sort of holy prayer.

Mingyu gently kissed you, taking in your moans as he moved with a new found rhythm. You moaned when Mingyu hit the right spot and that did it for him. Mingyu hit the spot again and again as he made sure you were maintaining eye contact.

"You see how I ruin you angel.", Mingyu said in a hoarse voice.

Your eyes were glazed over and unfocused, lost in a hazy pleasure. You watched as Mingyu's hips rhythmically sunk into your cunt as your thighs quivered and stuttered out little moans each time he made contact.

After what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt your release coaxing again.

"You are going to cum aren't you baby?", whispered a sweaty Mingyu right in your ear.

"I can feel you squeezing my dick, baby. Fuck.", he moaned as his rhythm staggered.

You moaned because you were unable to even think about what to say. Racing your high you made sure to see Mingyu and how both of you fell apart almost at the same time as a garbled-out moan filled the space of the moan. Mingyu groaned as he released his own load and fell on you trying to catch his breath.

He brushed the hair stuck to your moist forehead out of the way before planting an intimate but delicate kiss to your wet lips.

!!SMUT ENDS!!

After resting for a few minutes, Mingyu got up to bring a cloth dipped in warm water to clean you and change the bedsheets before pulling you both under the warm embrace of a blanket.

You snuggled into Mingyu's naked chest as the warmth almost lulled you to sleep.

"____-ah.", whispered Mingyu to which all you could do was hum.

"I really like you. I am sorry I never confessed to you sooner. When you distanced yourself, I was a complete mess. I tried to contact you but every time I thought about it, I realized that it might make you feel uncomfortable. It was a relief to me when I saw that you were single. I knew I had to take the chance.", confessed Mingyu.

"I am sorry for distancing myself. It’s foolish but I have liked you since high school and that scared me. I really thought that you would hate me or reject me and so the best I could do was leave. When I thought that you were getting married, I knew I had lost my chance but then you were so sweet and kind that I almost thought that it meant something. I am glad you took the initiative.", you blushed as you confessed.

"So, still thinking about being my grooms-lady for the wedding?", teased Mingyu.

You giggled as you planted a kiss on Mingyu's lips and said, "I rather be your lady."

_______________________

Author's note: This is the longest smut I have ever written. I have been noting down inspirations from so many fanfictions and finally I was able to write this. I just feel extremely awkward when I write smut because I feel like I am not writing good so the inspirations helped a lot. Please do show it some love and I will be back with many other one-shots. Love y'all

#seventeen #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu svt #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #mingyu imagines #kpop fanfic

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parisoonic · 4 months ago

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How the hell do you manage to superimpose the hilariously exagerated proportions of the tf2 mercs into a cohesive 2d style? I always struggle SO much with like, the way the mercs' models have huge hands, the way they have relatively low-poly definition on things like arms, shoulders, and legs... and Especially the way like, the models are kinda janky when you pose them for art purposes- when using movement tools, things like armpits and seams between body parts get all deformed... Which makes the study of form and silhouette rather difficult.

I assume that a lot of your ability to translate the concept of the mercs from their original mediums into your own works of art comes to you quite naturally- through experience you have with drawing and art style stuff, as well as through intuition. I was simply wondering if I could poke at your mind and get some insight into your process, any thoughts you have about the proportions and silhouettes of the mercs, any quirks you've found while drawing the mercs, or simply what you enjoy drawing about them. Like, don't be afraid to infodump about something just because you think people wouldn't find it interesting- I am here, I am sitting, and I am listening- if you so choose to speak.

I am utterly fascinated and enraptured by the more behind-the-scenes aspect of art. The mundane things that come second nature to great artists yet seem so revolutionary to less experienced artists.

I love your work, I look forward to seeing more of it, and I hope you have a nice day :]

Sorry for the late reply! I've been a little…stuck on how to answer this but that's mainly because to me, drawing is composed of SO many different little skills - you have form, anatomy, shape language, silhouette, appeal, rhythm, acting and posing…not to mention everything AFTER your raw draughtmanship like line style, rendering and colour theory. Trying to distill a multiude of small skills into some pithy advice is overwhelming to my brain. So I'll take the invitation to ramble instead :))

I don't think I have any new or revolutionary insight into the tf2 guys specifically - more I'm using them as work horses to excercise general silhouette/posing/shape-language and further my skills when it comes to drawing characters!

I do agree though the proportions are rather silly when you stop and think about them realistically…they can be kinda tricky if you follow their 'actual' proportions. what looks great individually was maybe never meant to be directly compared (ie: Heavy's hand size against Spy's lol). It would've been funny if the TV show exsisted and we had more content to review…would the animators have had rules like Spy and Heavy can never shake hands? Would they cheated the proportions for shots? Or would they have said WHATVER it's gonna look weird and embraced it? (Like Kingpin in Spiderverse lol)

Paul Lasaine for 'Into the Spiderverse' This is AWESOME. But it's also one of the silliest designs I've ever seen comitted to screen. The varied scales of the characters work because of the unifying treatment (lighting, rendering, consistant hand anatomy, consistant clothing fold treatment etc) and because they are sort of proportional within themselves. A common mantra is that hands should be about as large as a characters face....which they all are here!

Human brains are very flexible and forgiving though. It's totally fine for you to put a character with huge hands and head next to a teeny tiny character! Vanellope and Ralph from Wreck-It Ralph look grand next to each other! And in that film you even have varying levels of stylisation sitting against each other (unified by the look dev treatment of the shaders and lighting). I think as long as the chracter is proportional within themselves it sort of works out. IE: a general rule is that a hand should be as large as the face so…you can have some large arse hands as long as their placed on a body with a big arse head. Unifying characters with the same treatment (ie: lineart brush, colouring style will also help them look cohesive next to each other :) )

I don't actually reference the 3D models/animations very much at all and instead draw their proportions based on my tastes for stylisation following their general vibes/silhouette profiles. I don't stick THAT close to their in-game looks and there are artists who do that are so so so much better than me (Creedei and Flapjack come to mind). I'm not amazing at body-type differentation and TBH they're all wearing chunky clothes all the time so I usually draw the guys as one-of-three body shapes: Heavy is the uniquely wide guy; Sniper/Scout/Spy are all tall and slim and Demo/Soldier/Medic/Engie have a little more of the generic 'hero' bodytype with varying tallness and broadness of the shoulders

Something like this! You can vary all these individual elements in terms of size, thickness, taper amount etc to create different characters. If you ARE going to reference the 3d works though you'll need to apply some anatomy knowledge to overcome the weird shoulders, armpits and knees which desperately need blendshapes to correct the 3D volumes and approach it a little more like an animation supervisor. There's a reason why you see in making-ofs and art-ofs character designers, character leads or animation supes doing drawovers of the models. These are character models that have had great effort put into their 'base' silhouette but it still needs to be reinforced in every frame for maximum appeal.

Shiyoon Kim for 'Raya' This sort of thing will occur at multiple stages during the animation process. Shiyoon Kim's notes are post final model but pre-animation. Most likely for internal rig tests, exploring what blend shapes and alt shapes are needed for the rigs etc. If your production has time, this will continue all the way to final anim. IF! But it's interesting to see how he emphasises the shapes and enhances the character acting of the 3d model.

As for 'mundane things' - I wouldn't say they're second nature! (If that makes you feel better!) I have to actively really persue certain advice and try to figure out how to best apply it. This can sometimes involve redrawing and redrawing an element of the drawing until I've grasped the nettle of whatever I'm after or…..until I get frustrated and either delete the drawing or just call it done lol

Here, I'm looking for a really specific flow of the head that sells both the acting and a subtle head tilt. I'm also trying to apply the general mantra regarding faces that converging lines (set by the eyebrows and mouth) are more appealing than parallel. It's tough! I also tend to use a drawing I've already done as a template/reference on the page too. Oh! This page is an amazing example of why I'm not an animator or storyboarder…consistancy? Who is she? 💅

Converging lines (that form tapered shapes) are always more appealing than parallel. Using this logic you can loft the facial features across converging lines to create dynamic appealing espressions. Combining this with anatomy, perspective and rotation is the tough part though. I'm still learning o7

The things I probably think about MOST are always flats vs curves, simple vs complex and general line of action/flow...and then eliminting tangents. Each of these can be a dedicated visual-essay on their own - hence my stumbling as to answer your question. Anyhow, not sure if it's ever come up on this blog but I looove dinosaurs :)) so i'm using a wee piece to demostrate these ideas! (but also to demostrate these concepts apply to everything from humans characters to animals, props and background design)

Okay, I'm getting self-aware that this is getting really long :') I have a wee tutorial tag for my blog if anyone wants to comb through my garbled art-thoughts. Learning, studying, repetition and practice will always be the greatest teachers! I'm glad you like my art- thank you so much for the lovely comments - I feel like such a noob still and not qualified to give people advice but we're in it together learning! High-five! 🙌

#tutorial #asks #sorry for any spelling mistakes whoops!#hopefully...this is VAGUELY useful or interesting to people ;;#TBH I'd much rather do youtube drawovers/videos of my own or others work as that is...my job...rather than doing writeups lol #its much easier to talk and vibe about a piece of art vocally than to try and make everything uber succint in writing

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joltrify · 6 months ago

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experimentations ft. the Artpop queen herself

Silly little (not so little) unrelated HC I developed later under the cut

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

🎀- HC that EVE's most normal hobby - when not occupied with other things - is repainting dolls 🎀- Like in a blue moon you can catch her at the hobby lobby in mom jeans and a cardigan just looking for materials

★- In her down time (which is a bit rare these days) Nadia'll pick those ball-jointed Barbie/Bratz/MH dolls and give them a complete makeover ☆- While she's making them she's fervently thinking 'I will love you in a way that no one else EVER has' and she treats them all that way ★- She'll repaint them in the most unconventional ways possible but they're still gorgeous; a perfect reflection of her studio artwork on a body that isn't her own ☆- Sometimes if she's low on fabrics, instead of making a full-sized mockup of her exhibition fits she'll use her dolls to test the outfit design and make a mini version of the fit with small pieces of the final material ★- She's got this HUGE shelf on her pad that's got these fashion icon dolls displayed with their name and inspiration on a little plaque ☆- Whenever something significant happens and she doesn't want to paint, she'll hold onto the feeling, good or bad, and jot down an idea for a new doll's look ★- and she DOES truly love each of them - though she may have had to learn to love one in particular

🎀- She picked up the hobby in college (before she met Zuke) but didn't really think anything of it 🌸- It was just a means to practice different makeup looks and pencil techniques without sculpting something - and it was fun! She liked having a cute little gal at the end of the process 🎀- When she came up with the idea of using the dolls as models, she created a doll of herself but made the decision to make its skin completely white 🌸- When Nadia met Zuke, she sort of put the hobby aside to focus on her other art mediums, but she looked at the doll of herself and felt comfortable enough to repaint the right side pink (and she laughed a bit to herself looking at the final result, because it looked... Cute! Just like her other gorgeous dolls...) 🎀- After Rapturica, she didn't feel the need to create a doll based on her feelings as she didn't feel as hurt as she expected, but she did find it really, REALLY hard to look at the doll of herself, so she hid it away... 🎀- she picked up repainting again later but went in HARD - they began to look more artsy and alien, just like her other art pieces 🌸- After graduating she didn't really have time to repaint dolls and focused on creating other arts/music again, only occasionally using them to test outfits (but never the one of herself) 🎀- After the events of NSR though, she picked it up again as a form of self-care. It's something she doesn't have to create for the public eye, and she's rekindled the joy of creating a strange little gal and loving them despite their bizarre quirks. 🌸- ... I think she feels a bit more comfortable looking at the doll of herself now, too.

★- She's probably still got doll repaint videos up on her channel from her college days, hehe. ☆- (She's debating whether or not to make a mini exhibition about the concept of dolls.* Likely not, as she doesn't want to taint the tranquility of the act, but she still likes the idea. It's better to not mix work art with home art, anyway.) (* (How they can reflect their caretaker, they exhibit both confidence and vulnerability, they can be broken and discarded but repaired, they're still images that can be moved in a 3d space however you desire, they rely on a person to actually be 'real' ykyk that kind of thing. the symbolism of dolls.)

The doodle I made in the 3rd picture (above the cut) is inspired by those really pretty doll repaints... I think that that look in particular is one that she tested on a doll first... pre-ugly cry, that is.

Thanks for reading my very silly idea... decorated the bullets with Bows and stars because I felt like it, haha. Have a lovely day~🌸

#how does she even get her hair to do that she's so powerful...#(kinda popped off with the last one ngl ✋🙄)#i had a doodle of little Eve in my folders almost 4 years now so i decided to draw her again to see how my style's changed #i really forgot how much fun it is to just throw colors on the board... highly recommend!!!#also doubles as a destresser so it was a little relaxing :]#art #digital art #digital painting #fanart #nsr #nsr fanart #no straight roads #no straight roads fanart #no straight roads eve #nsr eve #nsr nadia #nsr eve fanart #end my suffering

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mydear-corinthian · 8 months ago

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welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

#peaky blinders #x reader #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy smut #tommy shelby x reader #cillian x reader #cillian smut #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut

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sepherinaspoppies · 8 days ago

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Only If For A Night

ꕥ series masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3

⟢summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

⟢pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

⟢warnings for this part: Mentions of dead bodies, Harrenhal visions, light gore, Ser Crispy Coleslaw, Aemond being jealous and horny.

⟢wc: 7,872

⟢gif credit: @peachysunrize but she deleted her acc so im sorry!

Chapter 3: Me and the Devil

She was doing her best not to lose her mind. She’s never been stuck in a situationship like this before. Or hardly knew anyone that had been. Stuff like this only occurred in…books. In which she was now in the middle of.

She had so many questions yet no answers.

She knew she had to come up with some sort of well thought out plan. But if she was being honest, she barely even had a pl. As Phoebe Buffay once said on an early episode of Friends.

One thing was for sure, she was in the Riverlands. Harrenhal. Westeros. If she had her history correct, and she did, the year is currently 130 AC.

Rhaenyra Targaryen had just taken over the city of King’s Landing with the help of the Rogue Prince at her side.

She recalls how this news caused Aemond to go on a seize of murderous rampage, killing the entirety of House Strong. The very same pile of dead bodies she saw in the outer yard, those were them.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t get that horrifying image out of her head. Not now and perhaps not even the days to come. With every blink of her eyes, she saw them; bloody, decaying, eyes wide of what they felt before death: fear.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

Not that there was much in her stomach to.

Shortly after Aemond had severed the guard’s head, she had literally thrown up just inches away from his feet.

He did not say much, only bringing a small green handkerchief from his pocket and wiped remnants away from her lips. Instead of being angry or disgusted, Aemond’s face exhibited only concern.

Because of that she was escorted inside Harren’s castle with haste by Aemond’s orders. With the very little time she had, she tried to go against this but her words were swiftly overlooked and ignored.

She was brought into a medium sized room at the highest tower of Harrenhal. The room wasn’t much to look at. High stoned black walls with no decorations or personality. A canopy bed with multiple pillows and furs laid near the window with two nightstands on each side, holding lit candelabras.

Facing the canopy was a vanity table with nothing but dried flowers and a dusted mirror that she couldn’t make out her reflection. It was obvious that no one had occupied this room in a very long time. The cobwebs, near all four corners of the ceiling, confirmed it.

To the left of the vanity was a beige folding screen and behind it was a large white bathtub that she had been thrown in immediately upon arriving in the room by two older women.

After she had been bathed and dressed, a third woman delivered a hot cup of peppermint tea to ease the nausea. However, after they left she made sure to discard the cup, choosing not to drink anything, harboring feelings of distrust when she previously drank a cup of tea.

The sound of the door being opened caused her to sit rigidly on the chair, thinking it was a particular one eyed prince entering the room. Instead, the knots in her stomach loosened as an elderly man made his way inside, offering her a simple smile before he set a leather bag he’d been holding on a nearby table.

Her mouth opened, wondering who he was but as she assessed his gray robes and the several decorated chains hanging from his neck, he’d have to be a maester.

Something close to a doctor in her world.

“You have not touched the tea, my lady.” His voice was barely audible, gentle as he pointed out. “Are you allergic to peppermint?”

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes landing on the medical supplies being brought to the rounded table. She recognized some of them such as the suturing kit, scale, gauze, scissors and a scalpel.

Her abuelo, Vidalio, had a collection of identical vintage medical supplies in his office that often as a kid she’d glance at in complete fascination.

“Are you not partial to peppermint?” The maester questioned.

“I’m not partial to drinking something that I did not see being made,” she added. After drinking that tea Alyssandra had given her, there was no way she’d risk doing that again. “Besides, peppermint is most known to target headaches. If you were to mix ginger and chamomile, then you have an accurate tea to treat nausea.”

The maester lifted a bush eyebrow, cocking his head to side taking her suggestion into consideration. “Very well. I’ll bring a cup of boiling water—” He tried saying, only for her to sprint directly in front of him.

“—there’s no need. I am well; as you can see.” She feigned a recovered smile.

“I still am in need of boiling water to brew milk of the poppy, my lady.”

It was her turn to gaze at him in wonder. “What for?” She inquired. She knew what milk of the poppy was. An opium made from the poppy flower to aid in severe pain and to anesthetize a person out cold in a deep sleep.

It was also the same pearly liquid she read in A Game of Thrones that Grand Maester Pycelle used to treat Ned Stark after an altercation he had with Jaime Lannister, which gave the Warden of the North, strange dreams. ‘Poppy dreams’ otherwise known as hallucinations.

As helpful as it was, it was also very addictive. Equivalent to morphine and fentanyl. As an intern at St. David’s Hospital, she’d seen how bad opioids took a toll on people.

So it was safe enough to say she wasn’t going to be easily convinced to take it.

The older man pointed at the swollen cut on her lower lip, where that asshole of a guard had slapped her hours ago. “The wound on your lip; I have to stitch it. I will use milk of the poppy to ease the discomfort when inserting the needle into your lip.”

“I already said I’m fine.” She answers more firmly. She glanced at the multitudinous array of small amber jars on the table that contained different kinds of fine powders, liquids, dried herbs, seeds, and strange looking roots.

She was able to make out a little bit of everything. Though, nothing of the sort would be needed for something so minor. Rubbing alcohol and perhaps a topical antibiotic ointment were as good as any.

“Tis’ not what the prince thinks, my lady.” The maester abruptly murmurs out, fearfully looking at the door. If the prince were to walk into the room, seeing his guest not being properly treated as he demanded, he too would suffer the same unmerciful fate as his lord.

“It’s a superficial cut! You can tell the prince, I don’t need tea or stitches.” What she needed was to get out of here and go home.

“A topical amoxicillin ointment should be enough. Though, I don’t think it exists here.” In fact no modern medicine could be found here. This era was if not the same as medieval times, where people die everyday of infection or contamination due to the lack of antibiotics, antivirals, and vaccines.

She felt lucky that all of her vaccines were up to date.

Except maybe for her yearly flu shot. Fuck!

The maester tilted his head in surprise, “Are you a healer?” He asked, intrigued that she too knew medicinal practices. Most witches did not, if he believed the rumors around the castle.

She crouched down, eyeing the herbs that caught her attention.

“Something like that. I know enough to know that I don’t need stitches. It’s just a little bit of swelling that will go down in a day or two if I ice it.” Though, she wasn’t sure how the maester would get ice in the Riverlands. If this was the North, ice wouldn’t be a problem.

The maester, befuddled, nodded. Knowing that his endeavors to treat her lip were pointless, he slid her a small amber salve of bread mold.

She gave him a ‘what the hell is that?’ kind of look, in which he explained it was an ointment to prevent infections.

After a few series of questions, she realized that this bread mold was as close as what she was going to get to penicillin.

A look of relief and ease plastered on the maester’s face as she delicately dabbed some of the salve on her wound. She was equivocal if the salve was meant to have a bitter taste or smell, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she wanted this visit to speed up.

“What’s your name?” She asked while watching the man place his medical supplies in his bag with uttermost care.

“They call me Maester Nywen.” He revealed.

She pronounced his name repeatedly in her head, trying to remember if he was mentioned in Fire & Blood. Though, there was no record of him at all.

“I’m—”

“I know who you are, my lady.” Nywen interjected. Everyone knew her name, including the walls of Haren’s castle. It was said she possessed otherworldly abilities unknown to men.

In his many years serving House Strong, Nywen never came across her path. Never saw her in the flesh. Just tales and rumors. Some that he believed; such as her being his lord’s favorite out of his true born sons and daughters. Some that Nywen didn’t quite believe; like the rumor of her bathing in maiden’s blood to remain forever youthful.

Looking at her now, her complexion differed from what he pictured.

To her befuddlement, she had no idea how Nywen knew her name. She didn’t remember mentioning it to anyone, including the old ladies.

This was all some weird mystery that was making her feel dizzy and unsettled. She only now wished she had some Ibuprofen or an Advil pill to dull the pain in her head.

“If this is all, I must take my leave. Good day, my lady.”

“Wait! I’ll go with you,” she called out, and the older man came to a halt before he exited the door.

A look of sympathy came on Nywen’s face. “Apologies, my lady, but the prince ordered for you to remain here.”

“Wait, what?!” She followed a close second after him, perplexed. Nywen gave her one last look of remorse, “I am sorry, my lady. You won’t be kept in here for long. The prince has some matters to attend to before he calls for you. Should you come in need of anything, ring the bell.”

“Nywen!” She called out, but it was too late as the door was suddenly closed right in her face. The sound of a lock confirmed her fears.

She was alone again.

She wondered how abuela Selena was doing. The older woman, who’d been more like a second mother to her, had come across her mind a lot more now.

Had she known she was missing?

Of course she did; she was probably seriously panicking right now and sent out a search party to look for her.

The pueblo was small, and it wouldn’t have taken her family long to figure out she wasn’t there or in any surrounding pueblos. She knew that wouldn’t hinder them from continuing their search for her. Her family were strong and brazen fighters and would stop at nothing to keep the family safe.

She also wondered if her mother knew. Though, she already knew the answer to that. Her very overprotective mother, who calls every hour of each day, must have flown from the states the second she did not answer the phone. A heavy argument most likely would’ve happened between her mother and her abuela, Selena, for not keeping a close eye on her.

Even if the fault had not been her abuela’s, she feared that her disappearance became a fresh new layer of conflict added on top of the decades long strife between her mother and Selena.

She did not wish for that. For years, she’d attempted to push them together to communicate and get past whatever tension they had between them. She prayed that things would not escalate further between them in her absence.

She could just imagine seeing them after all of this was over.

But to pinpoint when?

Now, that was going to be challenging.

She was so high up in Harren’s castle that she wished she were some type of bird. A raven, perhaps. With great big and wide wings to fly to carry her away.

Fly, a voice whispered next to her.

Startled, she snapped her head up to the side in the direction of the voice. “What?” She asked with a shaky voice.

You have wings. Use them.

She glanced behind her shoulders, feeling for soft feathers but was met with bare skin and no wings.

“Liar.” She asserted back. And the voice responded something in return, though it was barely audible.

However, something in the room had shifted. It became darker, colder, and overall strange. The dark hairs on her arms stood when the flames of the candles blew out one by one by themselves while the hinges of the door creaked open.

A thin curtain of light appeared at the end of the hall and her body seemed to sense some type of energy vibrating around the room, pulling her to leave now that the door was unlocked.

A part of her debated whether or not to take the risk and leave as this was exactly how people died in scary movies, by following strange energies. Another part of her said fuck it, sensing the energy as not evil or not good either.

She let out a frightened gasp as the door shut completely from behind and the vibrating energy increased tenfold. The longer she walked throughout the corridor, she began to realize that the buzzing was actually a low humming sound echoing down the hall.

A song.

Arrorró, mi niño

Arrorró, mi Sol

Arrorró pedazo

De mi corazón

Abuelo Vidalio would sing that exact song as a lullaby when she had trouble sleeping as a child. Which happened to be all of the time since she experienced very vivid dreams about strange people and creatures she did not recognize. Vidalio, with his soothing voice, would be there to sing the bad dreams away.

Este niño lindo

Que nació de noche

Quiere que lo lleven

A pasear en coche

Could it be him?

With trembling hands, she takes a peek through the slim opening. A large and nicely furnished room is set directly in front of her. It sort of reminded her of Vidalio’s private studio near the outskirts of her family’s home. Vidalio had a love for old vintage things like outdated medical books, scrolls, medical supplies, herb vials, maps, and furniture.

Some of those things decorated the inside room.

In the center, a man sat on a wooden rocking chair with his back towards her. She glanced at the carvings on the top rail of the chair; a three headed dragon, wolf, lion, some sort of sea creature, fish, falcon, stag, and a rose.

Instantly, she knew who the rocking chair belonged to.

“Abuelo?” She asks aporetically. Although she missed him terribly, she secretly hoped it wouldn’t be him. Since he, himself, had been dead for years. And it wasn’t like she didn’t believe in ghosts; she did.

The humming impetuously ends before it begins, and so does the back and forth movement of the rocking chair.

Purple eyes stare directly at hers like he’d been waiting a while for her to come in. “El niño no se puede dormir,” Vidalio addresses her in complete distress. (the boy can’t fall asleep)

His appearance made her halt on her tracks, he looked and dressed differently than what he normally looked like. She remembered him older, tanner, his light blonde hair styled directly away from his face, with more modern fitted clothes.

Here he was younger with milky white skin that was untouched from the harsh Mexican sun; his hair slightly long and silver. And more importantly, his clothes were strange and old fashioned, almost aristocratic.

The only way she knew for certain this was her abuelo, was by a polaroid her abuela took of Vidalio when he was young, were they both briefly lived in Cancun.

How was it possible that he was here, in Harrenhal?

In Westeros?

How could it be?

Her lack of response causes Vidalio to continue humming the lullaby as he sways something tight on his arms.

A boy, no more than eight, laid lifeless across Vidalio’s arms. Small cuts and bruises painted across the young boy’s small and delicate face and body. All while fresh blood dripped from the side of his chest, pooling down onto the floor.

He was bleeding out.

Yet, the boy was already dead.

What was more harrowing of it all, were the boy’s eyes. They were a rich and dark violet color, wide, blinking and staring right at her.

Through her.

It was the only thing about him that was alive.

Este niño lindo

Ya quiere dormir

Háganle la cuna

De rosa y jazmín

“We need to take him to a hospital,” she frantically suggested. Maybe the boy wasn’t completely deceased. Maybe all he needed was proper medical attention like a blood transfusion and a few stitches.

“It’s too late.” Her abuelo pointed out. “All he needs now is the comfort of his mother.” Vidalio gives the boy one last hug before he stretches the body in her direction.

“What?!” She exclaims, feeling the air in her lungs rapidly leaving her body.

Surely, he didn’t mean the little boy was hers…

This didn’t seem possible. A mother is able to recognize the face of their own child. She’d hear on multiple occasions from mothers, at the hospital she interns in, how a sort of natural maternal instinct and intuition set in the moment they became mothers.

She’d know if she had a child, but that boy was not hers.

Or was it?

“I- I need to go. This isn’t real. This-this isn’t true. You aren’t real. You are dead.” She says between ragged breaths, feeling a panic attack brewing in.

She took a few steps back, only to be met with a cold hard chest. An older man, perhaps in his late sixties, with long silver-white hair and dark eyes, smiled warmly at her. Beside him, were six other men and a singular woman.

She noticed that the two older men wore more modern clothes, while the others wore some sort of old fashioned clothes similar to Vidalio’s, embroidered by the same red design.

“I’m sorry,” she let out an apology to the older man. The man, though, remained unfazed. He simply continued to look at her with tears in his eyes before he replied with a strangled voice. “Mama.”

“No. Oh, no, no.” She shook her head, placing some distance between them. All of them. As if that would help them disappear.

Yea she needed to get the fuck out right now.

She eyed the door and ran towards the opening, leaving behind people that did not exist. For a moment, she believed she heard something but dismissed it as quickly as lightning.

She saw people along her path but whether they were real or not she did not know or care for. Her goal was to leave. Leave this place, sapphire or not.

Halfway into her sprint, she got the feeling she was being followed. So she ran into a solitary hallway and opened the first door she saw.

“You’re early.”

She drew in a sharp breath as she came across the last person she wished to see right now, none other than Aemond Targaryen.

The prince’s lone eye was practically sparkling when looking at her after being hours apart. She had been away for too long for his taste.

Aemond would have preferred for her to come after everything– the wine, dinner, and dessert– were perfectly set up on the table as he had planned.

Yet, she was here now.

With the light blue with silver gown he specifically picked out. The colors itself reminded Aemond of House Arryn, a traitorous house that sided with the whore that was his half-sister. Though, the colors were at least better than that of House Strong.

Aemond almost had the two women killed for even considering such bletcherous colors for his one and only to wear.

Blind luck was bestowed upon them when another woman quickly brought an unused gown from her daughter’s armoire. Which was the one his love was currently wearing.

She looked mesmerizing. Goddess like. The very Maiden in the flesh.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked as he noticed her out of breath appearance.

Before she had a chance to say anything, a tall and dark haired knight came in; presumably after her as he was out of breath too.

Aemond looked between Ser Criston and his one and only, and concluded that he’d been chasing her for some time.

“Tis’ alright, Cole. No grave offense has occurred,” Aemond affirmed with a court nod.

She blinked, assessing the man who was one of few to cause the civil war, Dance of the Dragons, between Aegon and Rhaenyra.

He appeared just as he was described in the books.

Charming.

Though, she did not expect him to be quite so… short.

Whilst Aemond stood exceptionally tall, Ser Coleslaw seemed no taller than five foot and eight inches. Perhaps that is one of many reasons he was such a misogynistic dick who couldn’t handle rejection.

If she did the math correctly by the current year, he must’ve been in his late forties. Yet he had this youthful look about him that one wouldn’t have guessed he was reaching his fifties.

Not that he would live to see his fifties.

Days later he would die south of the Gods Eye.

“Holy shit, you’re Criston Cole?!” She exclaimed not with fascination but with distaste lacing her tone.

The Kingmaker placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, glaring at her with such vigilance. “I am. Have we met before?”

“Not really–”

“Leave us, Cole.” Aemond snapped unexpectedly, causing her body to jolt at the intensity of his voice.

Criston shifted his focus to the prince regent. “I think it would be wise if I stay, my prince. Wouldn’t want anything… unseemly to happen.”

Oh.

At that, she took a few steps away from Aemond, placing as much distance between them as possible.

The mere thought of her and Aemond together made her feel uneasy and very unsettling. He was a prince. Royalty.

While she was the opposite of what he was. A simple commoner.

Aemond kept himself from frowning at the space his love placed between. He clearly did not intend to take her today, as much as he desired to.

His incessant desire and appetite would be sated the moment they were joined as one.

Which would be soon, if everything went according to plan.

“Leave us. It is a command,” Aemond said, tone much demanding and darker.

Criston clenched his jaw in anger before he turned to leave. Just as he was about to shut the door he gave her one last look.

There was no kindness in his cold green eyes. Rather he looked at her like the dirt beneath his boot that quickly needed to be swept away.

“Do you always captivate this much trouble, my lady?” Aemond asks, just seconds after the door closes.

She is only able to let out a hum as she feels all the words in her throat shrivel and dry up.

Aemond’s white linen shirt hung loosely and unbuttoned against his chest; His pants were halfway unlaced.

Aemond looked down at her silently, waiting for an answer from her. Yet she stood there gawking at the man in front of her, with his toned-pale chest on display, light silver trail of hair below his navel, leading to–

She apologizes quickly before rapidly turning around to grant him some privacy.

Doing so caused Aemond to curl his lip into a smirk. She didn’t need to be sorry about her curious glances. Aemond thought to himself. Very soon, she’ll be well acquainted with his body; as well as he with hers too.

Though, that day could not be any sooner. Much to his dismay, Aemond had to settle on that memory when she wore such sheer chemise. The same clothing he kept to himself after she was dressed, and used to pleasure himself with just moments ago.

“What makes you think that?” She added, her voice stammering a bit but she masks it with a cough.

“You outran three of my guards, for starters, and managed to harm one of them. You also fled from your chamber without so much as a word,” Aemond breathed. “Will you hand me my doublet, please?”

Her hands reached for the black leather doublet in front of the armchair, handing it back to Aemond with hands over her eyes. “Are you saying that I shouldn’t have run and let them have their way with me?” Anger, panic, fear and disbelief brewing deep in her stomach

“Seven Hells, no. That is not what I am implying,” Aemond expresses. “I am elated that you managed to defend yourself and run. But if your reason for fleeing was because you harbor any fear that it will happen again, I can assure you it will not.”

She stilled for a moment, the hair follicles at the back of her head rose when she felt Aemond’s presence so close behind her. “As long as you are here, you’re under my protection. I will never let anyone or anything harm you. I promise you this.”

The very gruesome image of Aemond beheading the guard that assaulted her, deemed his promise held true.

Nevertheless, she was taken aback by the comment and the surface of her face felt warm. “Um thanks,” she nervously chuckled. It was the only thing she could say at such earnest promise.

“You can turn around now, if you wish.”

And she did. He looked well put together, dressed in all black from head to toe. The dark shade truly suited Aemond, giving him the illusion of a gothic prince.

In such proximity, she could smell something amidst smoke, fire, and ash emitting from his clothes.

Possibly from his dragon, Vhagar.

Vhagar.

Being the bookworm that she was, she wondered what the oldest and largest she-dragon looked like. Or where she was currently nesting at.

However, her nerdishness had to be set aside.

For now, atleast.

“Are you famished, my lady? The servants are to bring us dinner shortly, but if you’re hungry now I could ask them to speed it along.” Aemond asked across the room, his hand on the handle of the door.

She was about to refuse his polite offer, unfortunately for her the mention of dinner provoked her stomach to growl so loud that even Aemond heard it.

Damned traitor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Aemond said, his lips curling into a witty grin. She held up her hand in a way to prevent him from arranging dinner, she didn’t have time for. “That won’t be necessary–”

“The ferocious noise inside your belly says otherwise,” he quips as he instructs a nearby servant for some food. “I am starved from killing Strongs all morning and afternoon. I crave something more fulfilling besides shellfish and mediocre soups.”

It was all Aemond ate at the capital after the Pretender ordered the blockade. At first, the small council had spent a remarkable amount on enough meat, poultry, grains, fruits, and vegetables for his family and guests. Subsequently, in a moon or so everything had run out. Fish, oysters, shrimp, and different kinds of soups were served.

Aemond did not mind, in the beginning, but after a while his appetite longed for his regular and satiated meals. He nearly took one of Vhagar’s goats for himself. Aemond knew he couldn’t as Vhagar needed her strength for upcoming battles and decided to let that foolish idea go.

A few minutes went by when an array of servants arrived inside the room, carrying hot plates of food. She recognized two of the servants. Both of whom helped her bathe and dress earlier.

One, she noticed, struggled to keep a ceramic bowl steady. Instantly, she took the bowl from her trembling hands. “The bowl is very hot, my lady. You must be careful!” The old woman warned as she tried to pry the plate off her hands.

Although she was touched by her worriment, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. “It’s alright. I’ve been accustomed to touching hotter things, and this is not nearly as hot as you think.” At a young age, she more than often would help her mama make homemade tortillas de harina and would flip them by hand in the comal while scorching hot. On the weekend’s she’d help out at her uncle Belen’s restaurant. Often serving customers hot plates of food straight from the stove. (flour tortillas, griddle)

So heat never really bothered her.

She placed the large bowl in the center of the table, adjacent to the other plates and pitchers. Then she proceeded to help the servants set the table.

All while doing so she couldn’t help but feel Aemond’s eye on her the entire time as she moved. He stood silent near one of the windows, patiently waiting until everyone that wasn’t her, to leave.

“Will that be all, my prince?” A kitchen servant asked, her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Aemond waved the woman away, disinterestedly. Something about that irked her to her core, and it reminded her of the countless entitled customers who treated servers beneath them.

“Thank you,” she smiled at the servants before they took their leave. They returned the smile and she couldn’t help but to think if they’ve ever been thanked before and she was content that she did.

“Shall we dine?” Aemond gestured to the overly-filled table.

She nodded, her stomach doing flips for food. Before she had the chance to pull out a chair, Aemond beat her straight to it with a smug smile carved into his lips.

“In truth, I’m glad that you came now. I was to summon you for another hour while you had your rest but to my surprise the maester informed me that you refused treatment.” Aemond spoke from behind.

She sucked in a breath, shoulders tensing as the tips of Aemond’s fingers softly grazed around the exposed skin behind her neck. A spot where she felt insecure and anxious from anyone viewing.

Even the two older women, who bathed her, halted their scrubbing when they came across the two deep vertical scars on each of her shoulder blades. A part of her was relieved that they did not say anything and continued their scrubbing, but the overthinker in her worried if they were secretly judging behind her back.

Aemond pressed his lips together tightly, replacing a frown as she wiggled herself away from his touch.

“Stitches are required for deep or gaping wounds, and surgical incisions. I did not necessitate it since this is a superficial cut. It will heal in a day or two if I clean it properly to prevent infection. Nywen agreed as well as I did and supplied me with a topical antibiotic.”

She watched as Aemond slid into a seat directly across from her, digesting in her words.

“Nywen?” Aemond arched his brow.

“The maester.”

Aemond hummed, content by her answer. “You speak as if you’re a maester yourself.”

“I’m a nurse,” She shared proudly, though ignoring the fact she has not taken her NCLEX yet. Meaning she was not actually licensed.

Aemond appeared to be taken back by her response and redirected his eye to her very glorious and plump pair of breasts.

Would she allow him the pleasure to drink from her chest as well?

The one eyed prince could only wish.

Aemond could practically hear his one and only loudly moan and cry for him as he drank every last drop from her breasts, providing her with not only relief but also pleasure.

The thought alone made his cock stir underneath his breeches.

“Not a wet nurse!” She exclaimed, as she crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to cover her boobs.

That, however, proved to be fruitless as the action alone caused her boobs to thrust upwards, revealing more for his eye to see. The violet in Aemond’s lone eye darkened and she swore she almost heard him… moan.

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to cause offense,” Aemond softened his voice as he discreetly adjusted his hardness beneath the dining table, stifling a hiss at the throbbing sensation.

“I never met a woman who practices conventional medical treatment; especially a young woman. Just old men. But seeing as to the maester being gone–”

Hearing that caused her head to snap up. “–Gone?”

“Yes, he left shortly after he was done treating you. I bid his freedom in exchange for his services and you were his last patient.” Aemond briefly told as he grabbed a slice of some type of roasted meat onto his plate.

“Well, that’s good to hear. At least he is free to see his family now,” she exhaled a breath she didn’t know she held.

Aemond hummed in agreement, choosing to spare the grisly details of him beheading the maester for treason against the crown.

In a way, the maester did get to finally visit his family, along with his liege.

“With him gone, perhaps you’d want to take his place?” Aemond offered coolly.

It wasn’t like she would stay here long enough to help heal his people. She had a deadline to meet and follow, and the One Eyed Prince sure as hell wasn’t going to get in her way. So she chose to give him a little inconsequential lie.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged as she began to assess the food upon the table.

And boy, were there many to choose from. There was a variety of cooked meats, sauteed vegetables, hot stews, breads, cheeses, and fruits.

It reminded her of an all-you-could-eat buffet.

She ended up selecting the same type of roasted meat as Aemond, paired with a small slice of bread and a goblet half full of a golden liquid she believed was some sort of juice.

By the way he was staring at her, she almost wanted to tell Aemond to take a picture to make it last longer but saying such a thing would be indecipherable to Aemond.

Rather it was better to say “paint a portrait.”

Now, however, was not the time to be comical.

Aemond began shifting to a new topic of conversation when she took the first bite of what he said was ‘roasted duck’. Instantly, she scrunched her face at the off- putting taste.

She always preferred her meat to be cooked well done and generously seasoned with garlic, salt, pepper, with a hint of rosemary and chili peppers for spice.

Though this meat itself felt uncooked in the center, bland and not seasoned correctly.

But what else could she expect from Westeros?

Aemond watched from where he sat, disheartened by her dischuffed reaction, “Is the duck not to your liking?”

No. She wanted to reply but she had a feeling that if she denied him, Aemond would try to convince her to take another dish.

“It’s good, thank you.” She lied after she forcefully swallowed the meat, smiling as she reached for her goblet to wash down the horrible aftertaste that lingered in her mouth.

Aemond was not in the slightest convinced that it was or the wine judging from her disapproving reaction. “Here, have some Dornish red. It is what I’m drinking, much better than the shit from Lannisport you drank.”

With hesitance, she took the cup. His fingers brushed with her own with a gentle caress that shocked her and almost pulled away from, if not for the goblet being nearly full.

She examined the dark red wine carefully before sampling it. There was a sweetness blended with some sourness that had her wondering if she had it before. It wasn’t a bad taste but it was definitely strong.

“Better?” Aemond queried, sitting straighter.

“Well you’re definitely right about the other one tasting like shit.” She laughed as she drank more Dornish red.

She's had some questionable alcohol before, but Lannisport wine definitely takes the cake. It was like drinking straight raw honey and cinnamon.

Aemond joined in with her laughter. “Dornish red can be quite strong and can surely get a person drunk if they have not eaten. Mayhaps I can have the cooks prepare something you prefer eating. What would you like?”

There were many foods she craved right now.

Back home, her abuela was preparing the masa for the tamales that took hours to make just for the entire family. (dough)

Her cousins Sara and Valeria, planned to bring a very spicy pozole and mole from their side of the family.

Tio Belen and tia Alicia were bringing their infamous chocoflan and caramel empanadas for dessert.

Those meals alone were what she wanted more than anything.

Sadly, there were zero chances that Westeros had any of that.

Especially during a war.

“I’m alright, thank you. I’ll stick to eating this, it’s not so bad now with the wine,” she reassured. Last thing she wanted was to waste food. Something she despised.

Her answer, however, wasn’t what Aemond hoped for but he settled on it for now.

“I do, myself, wish to know how exactly a lady such as yourself came to be wandering about in the woods, dressed in nothing but her shift.” Aemond implored, tilting his head to the side.

Uh oh.

“The remaining guards confessed that you were wearing your shift when they found you. Prompting them to believe you were some mislead whore. It still doesn’t justify their actions against you and for that I sincerely apologize. But, I’d like to hear your side of the tale if you do not mind.”

It all had been some unusual mystery, how she— the woman he had been expecting for ten years— came running onto his arms out of the blue.

Your life awaits

Was all Helaena said before he left to take back Harrenhal.

The pounding of her heart increased tenfold. She knew she had to stick to the truth as much as humanly possible, only altering the details that had to be kept secret.

She wouldn’t deny a part of her wondered if there was even a chance of coming clean to Aemond.

Without proof, maybe he’d think she was ludicrous.

If someone from Westeros came to the modern world, and extemporaneously said they’d been transported from a fictional universe, she without a doubt thought they were on some sort of crack.

She clears her throat, blinking rapidly in search of the right words to say. “Earlier I was sent to pick out some flowers for my family. Along the way, a woman came across my path and robbed me of not only my gown and shoes but my belongings as well. I tried chasing after her but after several minutes my feet became tired and I was lost around the woods with nothing to go by.”

“Your guards found me moments later. They insinuated that I was a whore, and I tried to tell them I wasn’t. That’s when things got violent and I was only trying to defend myself.” She explained transparently.

Aemond redirected his gaze towards the cut on her lower lip, then to her hand noticing some bruising. He recalled how the first guard had a stain of dried blood on his nose right before he killed him.

“Again, I must say how truly sorry I am for the dishonorable actions of my men. And I applaud you for your braveness, my lady.” Aemond said as he raised his goblet before taking a sip.

“Oh, this?” She asked, gesturing to the hand that was bruised. “This is nothing.”

Aemond let out a chortle. “It’s not nothing. You certainly broke his nose and damaged his foot by the looks of it. Who taught you to hit like that?”

“My uncle, Aimon.” She answers. Though unsure if she should reveal details about her family. “Most of us, my cousins and I, are girls. He said it was important that we, as women, learn how to be self resilient and defend ourselves. He taught us with a practice dummy, at first. Then with some padded gloves. ”

Aemond raised his brows, shocked by the notion that a man would allow their nieces to physically fight. His own father never bothered to teach his sister how to train in combat, not that Helaena would’ve wanted to or his mother allowed it. The Dowager Queen detested violence.

It was only ever him that learned to train in combat.

Not by his father, too sickly and yet too worried about Rhaenyra. Only Ser Criston Cole who shared the passion of the sword with him.

“Your uncle seems progressive,” Aemond stated, watching as a sad smile set on her face. “Yea he is.” The reminder of Aimon made her reflect on how much she missed her family right now.

Especially since Aimon was coming home for Dia De Los Muertos, after being stationed in Mexico City for ten years. Alicia and her were the only ones that knew of Aimon’s surprise visit to abuela Selena.

Though, perhaps now the only surprise her abuela was going to get was her disappearance.

“Have I said something to upset you?” Aemond questioned.

Her attention went back to the one eyed prince, who looked at her with concern. “No, no you haven’t. I just… nevermind.” She shook her head as she fiddled with the edges of her goblet.

Aemond leaned forward in his seat, desperately wanting to know what she had to say. “What is it? You can tell me—”

Just as his hand was about to reach hers, a knock interrupted them both. “Prince Aemond, the dessert you requested is almost done. Shall I have it straight delivered to your chambers?” A kitchen maid inquired from the other end of the door.

Aemond made a sound of complete annoyance, causing her to give him a major side eye. “Yes, do so.”

His reply caused her to be taken aback. Did that mean she had to stay longer with him?

She hoped not as there wasn’t enough time for dessert or any of his pleasantries. No matter how hard Aemond procures her to stay. There was a deadline she had to follow and a family and home to go back to.

She knew that by now, her family already contacted the authorities; the police and even the fucking FBI. They’d even call the SWAT team if it were possible.

Maybe she was being a bit too… dramatic. But was she?

There wasn’t anything her family wouldn’t do for her, including searching all of Mexico just to get her back.

Sadly, she was nowhere near Mexico.

Rather she was stuck in a world that up until hours ago, was purely fictional. A work of fiction that she received as a gift.

Her first mistake of coming into this strange world was not thoroughly checking the cottage properly. Perhaps there, she could find some clues and answers that could help identify where this sapphire might be.

So, now was as good a time as any to leave. More hours later and she’d permanently risk staying here forever, just as Alyssandra warned.

As much as she wanted to explore and live through every bit of Westeros, she already missed her home, her family, the food, internet, and comfortable clothes that weren’t medieval dresses.

“Would you care for some more Dornish red as we wait for dessert to be served?” Aemond eventually asked, breaking her out of her stupor.

Go.

“Actually, I can’t,” she nervously chuckled as she stacked her plates and swept leftover crumbs with a napkin. Even universes away she still had the decency to pick up after herself.

Aemond felt his heart drop.

“It’s getting late and I must go. I’ve been gone for hours and my family is probably wondering where I am.” It was not entirely a lie. Her one way ticket out of here was to play her cards right by telling the truth.

“But the dessert—” The one eyed prince tried to explain but was interrupted.

“— can wait or I’ll take it on a to-go box. Do you guys have one of those here?” She knew not but it was worth a try.

Aemond gave her a look of utmost bewilderment. “A what?” A box for a piece of dessert?

She waved him off before she stood up, “it doesn’t matter. Thank you for letting me stay and for everything else you’ve done. I’m grateful, really. But I seriously have to go.”

Aemond found himself standing as well and before either of them knew it, Aemond spun her around so that her back was pressed on rough stone and his chest just inches away from her glorious plump breasts.

“You can’t leave,” Aemond said with a loud growl.

She swallowed, her eyes widening in total disbelief. “What?” In a frail voice she asked.

Aemond had to be gentle with his next choice of words. Last thing he wanted was to scare her off, like how he currently was doing so.

The prince softened the darkness in his eye. “Well,” he sighed, “you’ve said so yourself, it is getting late and I don’t think it is wise for a lady to wander by herself in the woods again. Especially at night and with a mugger on the loose.”

“I’ve caused you enough trouble as it is if I stay.” She stated, distancing herself away from Aemond.

Though the one eyed prince was quick to act as his hand barricaded her point of exit. “You caused me no trouble, I swear this to you. Please stay a little while longer. I’ll send a raven to your family that you reside here with me.” Aemond begged, feigning a demeanor of woefulness.

Although she did slightly feel bad, the deep voice in her head told her to stick to her guts; which was leaving.

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head as she was quick to duck underneath Aemond’s arm towards the door. She felt the light graze of Aemond’s hand reaching for her but she pulled away before he could touch her, causing him to frown.

Aemond yearned to have more time with her; to know every single part of her that made her so intriguing to him. She had haunted his dreams every night for far too long to let her go now. Considering how he had not yet voiced his affections to her. Aemond presumed, now was not the right time to declare his devotion. Time is what he needed.

“Alys, wait!” Aemond called out.

And she was sure as hell did wait.

A/N: sooooo I haven't updated this story for 8 months and for that I'm sorry guys 😩

but for those who are wondering: I live in an abusive household. so that should say enough.

and yes I am trying to get out, but I am currently unemployed.

the next chapter won't take 8 months I promise, but I am writing some smutty one shots for valentines day so I won't update this story until march!

also, if anyone can guess who Vidalio is, I will post a sneak peek of chapter 4!

#prince aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #dark aemond x reader #alternate universe #modern reader

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burntheedges · 4 months ago

Text

Pas de Deux Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | ~40k words | complete 1/15 main masterlist | ao3

summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

full fic tags/warnings (spoilers!): modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

a/n: welcome to the Din ballet fic!! I started writing this in April and it’s finally finished! I’ll post a new chapter every Wednesday, there are 14 total. There’s some smut coming but it’ll be a while, folks. See my notes below about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! This fic is so much better because of you. 🧡 And thank you to @almostfoxglove for reading over it and confirming I didn't forget all my ballet, lol. 🩰

note about reader: in this fic you’re a ballet dancer, first soloist at Nevarro Ballet Theater company. I haven’t mentioned the reader’s body size or shape (or hair) basically at all, even to the point of avoiding clothing (except for costumes), but I understand the image that goes along with ballet – I danced for almost 20 years. Din does lift you many times. Please feel free to picture whatever you want, but I know that this might seem more limited. You also have a best friend named Adrian who is in the company with you. I never specified age, but to make first soloist most would be in at least their early 20s. Din is 27.

Chapter list and notes about ballet under the cut! Comment or reblog to join the tag list. 🥰🩰

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

** Bonus: Amazing art of Din by @kenobiwanx!! **

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

...

some notes about ballet: I will share links to videos and such as much as possible, but here are some definitions to get us started – principal, (first) soloist, corps de ballet, variation, and class vs. rehearsal:

Principal - this is the highest level a dancer (of any gender) can reach in a company. Dancers are ‘promoted’ through the ranks. Principals usually have exceptional technique and artistry and can perform solos, pas de deux (partnering), headlining and/or the most challenging roles, etc. (e.g., the white (Odette) and black (Odile) swans in Swan Lake, both usually performed by one principal). Sometimes dancers are hired directly in as principals (like Din, in this fic). Smaller companies might have 5-6 principals, while larger ones could have as many as 20. Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 14 principals, including Din.

First Soloist - not every company has this rank, but it’s in between principal and soloist. Nevarro has 4 but they are counted among the soloists (12-14ish total). Soloists are often understudies for larger parts, and first soloists would do the same. In this fic reader is a first soloist, just promoted at the start of the season.

Soloist - this is sort of a middle level, for dancers who are doing very well and have proven themselves capable of taking on bigger roles. Many ballets have multiple roles, including supporting roles in the narrative, for soloists and principals to showcase many dancers’ talents. A smaller company might have 5-6 soloists, and a larger company might have as many as 20. (Larger companies also do more shows.) Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 12-14 soloists, including first soloists.

Corps de ballet - this is the lowest/starting level in a company. It’s where most would start from and has the largest number of dancers – these are the dancers who come out on stage in large groups or form the background unnamed roles in narrative scenes (like a party). Reader started in the corps and was promoted to soloist and then first soloist.

Variation - a solo dance, usually a piece from a larger ballet (e.g., the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker). We say ‘variation’ because there are many ballets that have been choreographed differently by multiple people in the ballet world (e.g., there are famous versions of the Nutcracker by Petipa, Gorsky, Balanchine, Nureyev, Baryshnikov… and more). So there can be multiple variations of a solo from a single ballet, and more can be created or altered, etc. But in general the term just means solo.

Class vs. rehearsal - most companies distinguish between ‘class’ and ‘rehearsal’. Class is for the whole company and focused on improving technique. It’s quick and often repetitive and everyone sort of knows what to do. Most people would have ‘their’ spot at the barre and fall into a typical order for going across the floor. After class, most would go into multiple hours of rehearsal, PT, strength training, etc., depending on whether it was a performance day or not. Most companies are rehearsing for more than one performance at a time, so they might have a longer rehearsal for the show coming up this or next weekend, and a shorter one for another performance a bit farther away. But in the days leading up to a show, that show’s rehearsals would probably take over. This can vary by company. On show days, most would have fewer rehearsals with a 1-2 hour break before the call time to get ready.

Season - companies have 'seasons' which just refers to their plan for shows/schedule for the upcoming year. They might refer to like a fall season and a spring season, or the might have a full year schedule with different parts (fall/winter/spring), or they might have only a spring season that runs into early summer. It depends on the company and the size! In this fic Nevarro has a fall season and a spring season, but they tend to think about it as a full year for contracts/etc. They would have 3-4 big shows planned (think Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Giselle, Onegin, etc.) in each part of the season (so, 3-4 in fall and 3-4 in spring). And then they'd fill in the gaps in the schedule with "mixed programs", which are programs with multiple smaller ballets or pieces that feature a lot of dancers. So a mixed program might have a 20 minute Balanchine ballet, a pas de deux, a full corps piece from a larger ballet, and a piece for like 8 dancers. or something. Mixed programs are often when choreographers-in-residence and on staff get to debut their own work.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the mandalorian #nbt fic #pas de deux fic #here we go folks #x reader

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whorekneecentral · 1 year ago

Text

Your Pick

Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: pr!reader, a bit of an age gap (reader is mid twenties) randomness from nando's end, unspoken feelings until now, thigh riding, penetrative sex (p in v), a bit of teasing, praise kink go burrrr, creampie.

Word Count: 2,358

Author's Note: I literally only picked the middle pic for @oconso, it was for her. you’re welcome.

merry smutmas series

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar.

A charity event that Fernando attended every year, some sort of mission for children and their dream of being a driver. Fernando gave them an afternoon of his time, indulging them in all of their questions and stories, sharing some of his own as well.

You were, of course, right there with him. You weren't needed for this event exactly but as his press officer, you followed him. Sebastian often joked when he saw you that you were to Fernando what Britta is to him; except for the fact that you are much younger and hadn't been with Fernando for as long.

The idea was the same, you did everything for him. From making sure he gets there on time to meeting fans and signing everything he can.

At some point during the long event, Fernando asks you if you can do him a favour, handing you a piece of paper.

"I need to pick up some stuff, you can take my car. Oh and my card." He tells you, fishing the keys and his card out of his pocket to hand it over to you.

The keys to his Aston in your hand, along with the card and a list with some words scribbled along the lines, both in English and Spanish. You'd just have to figure it out along the way.

"You don't need me to stay?" You asked, looking between the list and the man. Fernando shook his head, "I'm good here. You should be done by the time I'm done here, no?"

"Probably."

"Come back when you're done, I'll wait for you."

You nodded, telling him you'd text him when you're done before you head out. The car beeps when you press the unlock button, a slick, shiny grey DBX 707 sat in the parking lot. You smiled to yourself, getting into the car and shutting the door.

The list sat on your lap, you looked over the things on the list and the places you'd get to go.

First stop on the list was Chanel; a Chanel classic with the double flap in Tiffany blue. It was stunning, Fernando had dotted down that he wanted it in the medium size. You were surprised he even knew what that meant.

His card beeped on the machine, the woman smiles as she hands the bag over to you. You carry it as you walk down the street to Christian Louboutin.

Purses, clothes and shows lined the walls, you felt like you were underdressed but the massive Chanel bag you were carrying fit you right in with the other rich people in the store.

You asked the woman for the shoes that he had written down; so Kate 120 in black, size 8.

You waited for her to bring them back. "Would you like to try them on, miss?" The woman asks, the slick box in her hands. You shook your head, "that's alright, thank you."

"Is this all?" She smiles, and you nod. The woman leads you to the front, doubling checking the sizes of the shoes and packaging it up into the brown bag.

There's one more place on the list that you've got to stop; Dior.

It's a few minutes drive from where you were, you leave the other bags in the car and head into the store. Fernando has listed that he was looking for the Miss Dior perfume. You look around a bit, stopping at the back to look at the wall of fragrances they had set up. You look closely and carefully and still you don't see the one that Fernando had wanted.

You reach for your phone, texting the man.

To Fernando: Hey, they don't have the perfume you wanted.

From Fernando: Which one was that again?

To Fernando: Miss Dior.

From Fernando: Just pick another one.

To Fernando: Any one?

From Fernando: Yeah, you have good taste. I trust your judgement.

You reply with a thumbs up and decide to look for something that you liked. It was a bit odd that Fernando sent you out like this, he did it often but never like this. He was never one to have you shop for someone who was clearly a woman. She must be important to him if he's spending so much on her.

You ended up picking out Dior Addict in place of Miss Dior. This one had the same jasmine scent with more of a vanilla undertone. You pay and take the bag from the man at the counter with a smile.

Getting back into the car, you reach over and set the bag with the others. You texted Fernando to let him know that you were on your way back, to which he replied with a thumbs up emoji.

It was a 20 minutes drive back to where he was, and once you arrived, you waited in the car for him. You were scrolling through your phone when a tap on the window startled you.

Looking over, you see Fernando. You wind down the window, "uber for Fernando ?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. "Haha," you say flatly. "Do you want to drive?" You look over at him and he shakes his head, walking around to get into the passenger seat. Fernando lifts your purse, setting it on his lap carefully.

"Where to then?" You look over at him, yet again. "Home?

"Yours," he says, looking through your purse.

"Stop that," you smack his arms, turning the key to start the engine. The car purrs in response, a sound only luxury cars have.

"Do you have gum?" He asks, still looking.

"Front pocket," you inform him, heading towards your place. It didn't strike you as odd to be heading to yours. Fernando often picked you up so you just assumed you'd get home and then he'd head out to his place.

What did strike you as odd was Fernando taking the bags out of the car and following you up the stairs to your front door. "What are you doing?" You turned, clearly confused.

"Go on, I need to come in."

"What if I don't want you to come in?" Your question made him laugh, the man shaking his head. "Just go," he tells you, knowing you're just being difficult.

You unlock the door and walk in, Fernando sets the bags in the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He had been to your place before it wasn't like it was awkward or anything. You just weren't sure why he wanted to come in.

"Want some coffee?" You called from the kitchen, filling the kettle. "Tea would be nice," he calls back.

You shake your head, setting two mugs on the counter. "I didn't offer any tea."

"I'm suggesting it then." He leans over the back of the couch, smiling at you. You roll your eyes, dropping the teabag in the cup while you wait for the kettle to boil.

Finding your way over to the living room, you sit on the floor by the couch. Fernando sets the bags on the floor next to you and you assumed that he was making space for you on the couch but instead spoke; "show me what you got."

The statement left you a bit confused, he had given you a list, of course he knew what was on it but you indulged, taking the stuff out of the bags.

You have them set on the floor in front of you, Fernando watches as you show him each thing carefully, not wanting to scuff or damage them.

"Do you like them?" He asks and you nod, "I do. Just a bit confused though," you look up at the man.

"Why's that?"

"Well.. you've always been the type of guy who shops for their women themselves so it just struck me as odd that you asked me to shop and pick up.. this."

Fernando smiles, "well I was busy and she's an important person to me, perhaps the most important."

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the driver. "Ohhhh okay.. so you have a girlfriend? C'mon, tell me, tell meeeee!" You nudged his knee, propping your elbow up on the couch as you turned your attention to him.

He doesn't say anything, he just smiles at you. This time was different; it wasn't playfully or teasing, there was something sincere about the way he looked at you.

It takes you a moment but you finally speak, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"The stuff is for you." He says and you look at him, clearly confused.

"You made me shop for my own Christmas gift? Fernando, that's.." It hits you at once, all the things he had listed were things you had mentioned to him that you liked over the last year or so.

Your hands covered your mouth, looking at him in shock. "Fernando, oh my god.. no." You shook your head, "this is too much."

"It's not," he rests his hand on yours, "you've been by my side for as long as I can remember, you do everything for me. You're the only person I trust and well.. love. You deserve this and so much more."

"It's a lot," you whisper and the man hushes you, letting you pull him into a hug. "Thank you." You whisper yet again, unsure how to repay him for his kindness; you knew you didn't have too, seeing that it was a Christmas gift but still.

Fernando's hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your skin softly. He smiles at you, wondering how he got so lucky. Not everyone gets to have someone they love in their life and he was lucky enough to find that in you.

You can't help it, it was like instinct. Shifting onto your knees when you reach up, your hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him closer, your lips on his.

A part of you thinks he's not gonna react and pretend it never happened and the other part of you expected him to push you away but he did neither.

Instead, he kissed you back.

He helps you up off the floor and onto his lap, having you settle on his lap. "Let me take care of you," he says, his hand cupping your face, finally pulling away from the kiss.

"Yeah," you lean into him once again. You stay in his lap, Fernando pushes the skirt you had on up a bit, shifting you onto his thigh.

His hands rest on your hips, rocking you on his thigh; back and forth very slowly. His head leaned back and he lifted his leg slightly. The sudden change caused you to slide forward, clit rubbing against the denim fabric under you.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

“So beautiful,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders. “So good for me.”

You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds, you don’t have to be quiet, mi vida.”

Little by little, your top and bra ended up on the floor along with Fernando's shirt. Your hands ran over his shoulders, down his biceps to his forearms.

His fingers creeped up under the hem of your skirt, "I've been waiting to have you to myself."

"Why's that?" You shift a bit to look at him, an arm over his shoulders as you look at him.

“Because I’m gonna ruin all that pretty makeup," he whispers to you, pulling you for a kiss.

It only spiralled from there; hands all over each other, clothes being tugged and pulled on. You’re both impatient, wanting more than you can get too at the moment.

Fernando scoots you back on his lap, undoing his pants as your skirt gets pushed up on your hips, panties pulled to the side before you sink down onto his cock.

He bucks his hips and your nails drop down from his shoulders to the scratches along his back. He lets out a groan, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Oh god," you mumble, thighs on either side of the man as you roll your hips, arms over his shoulders. One of your hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a solid tug.

Fernando tilts his head back, a soft groan slipping from his lips when he feels your own lips meet his skin.

“Fuck, do that again.” He mumbles, feeling you clench around him. Soon enough he can feel your hands on his shoulders, letting you set your own pace, bouncing on his cock as your nails dug into the back of his shoulders; surely leaving behind red marks.

His own hands digging into your hips hard enough to leave behind their own marks but that was the least of your concern right now.

“Fernando,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his.

He feels you clench around him, your hips stuttering and he knows you’re close. His hand moving from your mouth to between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles over your clit and your head falls onto his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds slipping past your lips.

He rests a hand behind your neck, pulling you back slightly. “Look at me,” he tells you, kissing you softly. You both knew the other was equally as close, orgasm on the verge of happening. His hand shifted to grab your chin, pulling your focus back to him. “Look at me when you cum.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, Fernando following quickly after you.

You fall flat against him and Fernando lets you sit on top of him for a bit, his hand rubbing around your back softly, fingers tracing random patterns into your skin.

"You okay?" He whispers and you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. "What?" He asks, seeing the look on your face.

"How did you know my sizes? You know.. for the gifts."

He smiles, kissing your shoulder. "I pay attention, you know."

---

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