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theereina · 23 days ago

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Buy Her Books📚 and Eat Her Pussy🐈

Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Erik, orgasm denial, pure filth

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Of course, Erik didn't know the monster he created. Last night, he had given his girlfriend Amelia his credit card and told her to buy her books. Amelia was immediately struck by decision fatigue. Her TBR list was well over 100 books at this point. When she whined about not knowing what books to choose, Erik told her to buy them ALL. Amelia initially laughed at Erik, not taking a word he said seriously; however, the look he gave her let her know he was beyond serious.

He had given her the card the night before. She sat up all night anxiously going through her TBR. She narrowed the list to 52 must-haves and 67 maybes, not including the 34 she deleted after reading the recent reviews.

Amelia had spent all morning in her favorite local bookstores and Barnes & Noble. She became flustered once she started realizing how much she would be paying. So, she called Erik and asked for his “approval” again. He responded with a laugh and comment about letting her do it again. This had Amelia excited at the thought.

While in the stores, she would first search for the books on her must-haves. Then, she would look for the maybes. She would scan over the synopsis and maybe the first page before deciding. She did this same routine in every store she went into.

After such a strenuous morning, Amelia was exhausted but excited upon returning home. She knew exactly the book she wanted to read first. She had showered and changed back into her nightgown. She climbed onto the bed and searched through the hoard of books. Amelia had tried her best to keep the books separated by genre to help her sort them.

There it was— a book she had wanted since its release five months ago. Amelia was back in her happy place as she lay on her tummy across Erik's bed, facing the headboard. She held the book and began kicking her feet in bliss. She opened the book and began to read the prologue before remembering that she didn't want any distractions. She grabbed her phone and placed it on DND. Tossing her phone somewhere behind her, she began to read again.

4 hours later

Unbeknownst to Amelia, hours had passed. Many hours. Her phone was still on DND, so she was unaware of Erik's 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages. Unfortunately, she also didn't know he was on his way home.

As Amelia lay reading, Erik arrived at his home. He was pissed. Amelia had ignored him all day. He was a little paranoid about these kinds of situations considering the life he lived before meeting her.

Erik unlocked the door quietly checking for any signs of forced entry. He slowly crept through the house. As he approached the back rooms, the only light visible was coming from under his bedroom door. He could hear what sounded like Amelia laughing, but he was too unsure. He unsheathed his Glock and held it in his hands. As he inched closer to the door, he quieted his steps. Putting his stealth skills to use, he leaned against the door using the weight of his body to stop it from creaking as he opened it.

Awaiting him was an exhausted Amelia. She was facing away from him still completely unaware of his presence. He had always told her she had the self-awareness of a toddler.

He slowly placed his gun into his waistband. Trying his hardest not to startle or alert her to his presence, he crept up to the foot of the bed. He grabbed Amelia's left foot and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “Princess!” Erik says flipping Amelia over onto her back causing the book to slip from her hands. “Erik!” she screamed. She was still unsure how this man could toss her around so easily.

“Busy?” he asked folding his arms across his chest. “Umm…,” Amelia said sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. She leaned up to give Erik an apologetic kiss. “Where's your phone?” he asked uncrossing his arms.

Amelia turned around and began searching for the phone in the bed. Piles of books were everywhere— an assortment of thrillers, romance, erotica, mystery, fantasy, and more. She knew it was there somewhere. She found it and looked at the screen. 13 missed calls and 8 unread text messages from “Daddy😈”. She turned back around to see Erik cracking his knuckles.

Uh oh

“So, you were reading all day? Is that why you were ignoring me, baby girl?” Erik said caressing her cheek. “Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just really…” she said putting her hands on his shoulders. “That's unacceptable, and you know that,” he said putting his right hand on the side of her neck. He used his thumb to stroke over the front of her throat., teasing her. Amelia swallowed because she knew what was coming— a punishment fit for his princess.

Erik stood there staring at Amelia's throat. “Where's the book you were just reading?” Erik asked stilling his movements. She pointed behind her to the only opened book on the bed. She was growing anxious by the second. Amelia began to whimper in desperation, trying to craft a scheme to escape this.

Erik's eyes shot up to meet Amelia's now brimming with tears. “Amelia, baby?” Erik lulled. “Yes, Daddy?” she asked hoping this would absolve her of her discretions. Considering that it was an honest mistake, she hoped he would be lenient. “Shut that shit up,” he said in the most level tone. He didn't raise his voice a decibel, but Amelia knew.

“Since you wanna read so much, read to me. I wanna see what's got you so distracted,” Erik said leaning over grabbing the book and handing it to Amelia.

4 orgasms denials later

Amelia was fighting for her life. Erik was eating her out from the back and forcing her to read the book aloud simultaneously. Every time she slipped up or stopped he lit her ass up like a Christmas tree.

His tongue sliding up and down her folds over and over again was driving her insane. She continued to read while breathing out ragged breaths. He was positioned right behind her on the bed. His tongue was warm and slick from her juices.

Erik leaned up and sat directly between her legs. He used his arms to flip Amelia over onto her back in one swift move. She yelled out in shock. Amelia looked down pleading to Erik with her eyes. He scoffed at her attempt to use her puppy dog eyes against him. He sat back and looked at Amelia's sloppy pussy and swollen clit. He took his hand and slid it up and down her slit, coating his fingers in her cum.

He brought his hand to his mouth and began to suck on his fingers. Amelia stopped to stare at Erik in awe. Without even losing focus on his task at hand, he used his other hand to smack Amelia's already swollen clit. “I didn't tell you to stop!” he barked while removing his fingers from his mouth. Amelia tried to continue reading but could feel Erik shifting between her legs.

Amelia turned the page and peeked under the book. She could see Erik's hand lining up with her pussy again. She felt his middle and index fingers slide into her wet pussy with a squelch. She moaned out and clenched her pussy around his fingers. He began to drive his fingers upward against her g-spot. He was merciless while fingerfucking her.

She started stuttering and closed her eyes too caught up in bliss. Erik used his free hand to smack the outside of her thigh. The sound echoed through the room. The thickness of her thighs provided no cushion for the blows he was dishing out. If anything, it was giving him more to work with. Her ass was already obliterated— red, swollen, and covered in welts.

They had been at this for almost an hour because of how well he was dragging out his teasing. She was tired of being denied but knew she held no power in this situation. All she could do was take it.

He leaned over Amelia's body pushing her knees up to her chest. How did he expect her to read like this?

His fingers were still punishing her pussy. He looked at Amelia and began to speak, “I don't hear you!” Amelia tried to read, but she felt like her voice was strained. The way he had her folded in half with his body holding her legs and thighs in place was making it hard to breathe. “Daddy, please. I can't…,” she whined out. “You can, and you fuckin' will. Do you hear me?” Erik said slowing his fingers down inside of her. He knew Amelia's weakness— slow strokes and deep pokes. He was using his fingers to massage her insides. He was kneading her pussy like dough.

Erik's heavy breathing was overshadowed by the sounds of Amelia's moans and her pussy squelching. It sounded like someone was flicking their fingers under a running faucet. Amelia dropped the book on her stomach, and Erik's hand instantly smacked her thigh twice. “Pick…it…the…fuck…up!!!” Erik growled through gritted teeth.

Amelia reached for the book. She tried her best to continue to read as Erik's fingers drove her insane. Erik lifted her left leg and pushed it back against her chest. He angled his body so that he was slightly to the side of Amelia's body. He leaned over and began to suck her clit while continuing to finger her pussy.

The words were leaving her mouth, but she wasn't attempting to comprehend or remember what she read. Erik removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. He moved so that his face was right between Amelia's legs. His tongue thrust inside her pussy. “Fuck. I'm… I'm gonna… Oh, I'm ‘bout to cum!” Amelia screamed. “Oh, really? I don't…remember you…askin’ me..for shit!” Erik said in between licks. “May I please cum? I can't take it anymore!” Amelia said her eyes filled with tears. “You betta!” Erik said slapping her clit with his free hand.

That was all it took to push Amelia over the edge. Her legs locked onto Erik as her belly seized. Her juices flooded Erik's fingers as he pushed them back in, leaking all over his hand and down his arm. He opened his mouth and covered her pussy so that he could catch everything. Amelia's moans turned to pained grunts. She was done.

Erik released his mouth from her pussy. He let go of her thick thighs causing them to fall like dead weights onto the bed. Amelia pulled her legs away from Erik and rolled over onto her side. He smacked her ass cheek while grabbing it roughly. “Good girl. You gone ignore Daddy again?” He asked leaning over to kiss Amelia's shoulder. “No, sir,” Amelia mumbled. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Erik replied standing from the bed.

“Get some rest, princess. Daddy's not done with you yet,” Erik said removing his shirt and heading towards the bathroom. “What?” Amelia said, jolting up from the bed. “Dafuck did you just say to me?” Erik snapped spinning around to meet Amelia's weak and apologetic eyes. “Nothing,” Amelia said as she let her head hit the bed again. “Since you got so much mouth, you got an hour. I know exactly what the next punishment is,” Erik said grinning.

Taglist: @kirayuki22 @revealingco @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

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Patri Guijarro x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Patri teases your girlfriend

"And this is one of her eating a plushie. And this is one of-"

"Patri," Talia says," Seriously, stop. You're embarrassing me."

"Good," Patri says, nodding her head," As your sister-"

"We're literally cousins."

"-It's my job to embarrass you around your girlfriend." She winks. "And show her just how out of your league she is."

Talia rolls her eyes, arms crossed as she sags on Patri's sofa.

You laugh a little bit, reaching out to squeeze your girlfriend's knee.

"And this is Talia when we went ice skating when she was little. We took Pina with us and she wiped us both out."

Pina yells out her outrage from the kitchen but doesn't come out to defend herself. She's been slaving out the stove for the whole day trying out some new recipe for lunch.

It hasn't been going well and none of you are going to tell her you've already ordered lunch until it turns up.

It's safer that way.

The burnt smell was really taking over the room which is why Patri busted out the old photo albums to distract you.

"Oh! I like this one!" Talia leans over you to point and you smile. "It was when I was little. At one of Patri's matches."

"Frido's there," Patri says, pointing out your aunt to you.

"And I'm there." You point.

The room goes silent.

"What?" Talia sputters.

You frown. "That's me. Right there. See?"

The picture is old but it was captured on a good quality camera so it doesn't look like it's faded at all.

In the foreground is Patri and Talia. Talia's little in it, maybe around four or five.

Patri looks hot and sweaty, straight off of the pitch after a match. She's got Talia up on her hip, both of them doing a big thumbs up to the camera.

In the background is the rest of the team, most of them are blurry but a few of them are more in focus.

Pina stands a little to the left, head half turned as she talks to someone just out of view. To the right is your aunt Frido.

It looks like she's grinning but she's a bit too far away to know that for sure.

Next to her, is you.

You're little like Talia is, still just a kid but you'd seen enough photos of yourself at that age to be able to tell that it's you.

Frido's hand is on your head, ruffling your hair and you're wearing her Barcelona shirt.

It's funny to think that so many years later, she wears your Barcelona shirt instead.

"That's you?!" Talia asks," But...But...What?!"

"Yeah, that's me," You confirm, nodding," What's so shocking about it?"

"But that's you! And that's me!"

"Yes?"

"But...We were so close to each other! How come we never met?"

You laugh at Talia's astounded face. "I'm very shy," You tease," I was probably scared. And, you know, language barrier. We wouldn't have been able to communicate."

Talia pouts and Patri laughs.

"Maybe it's better this way," She says," Otherwise you'd have been pining after her since childhood. How many more sappy letters would you have written in that time?"

Talia's face turns red and you grin.

"Sappy letters?"

"Don't listen to h-"

"So many sappy letters!" Patri seems delighted to have more things to embarrass Talia with. "For a moment, I thought she would start writing poetry."

"Shut up! You're so annoying!"

But, of course, Patri didn't shut up. She rarely did when the alternative was embarrassing Talia so thoroughly.

"She didn't know your address so she never sent them but I'm sure she would have. She really poured out her heart."

"Oh, yeah? What did they say?"

Patri clears her throat. "Your eyes are-"

"That's enough!"

Talia launches herself over your body to tackle Patri to the ground, the two of them wrestling on the ground.

"Fuck!" You hear from the kitchen right as the fire alarm goes off.

The doorbell rings. The food is here.

You smile, snapping a photo of the picture, sending it off to your aunt as you pick your way through the carnage to get to the food.

#woso x reader #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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sierrale8ne · 17 days ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIX

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @xxloveralways14 @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03

warnings infidelity, some sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! this is easily my favorite chapter so far (for reasons that will become obvious towards the end) don’t expect another back to back update bc it’s not happening 😭 maybe thursday or friday at the earliest, i still have priorities!

June 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California

“Paige, your shot wasn’t falling tonight like we are used to seeing from you. What was different tonight for you than either nights?”

It’s this that I’m not quite yet used to. The post lost pressers. It was different in college, where the team had way more wins for every one loss, but right now we’re at .500 and each time a loss follows a win and they ask me the same variation of the same question I get irritated.

But I’m media trained, which means I just answer the question no matter how dumb I feel it is. The real answer is that I played like shit tonight, forcing shots and getting into my head. Instead, I’m forced to say:

“We’re playing a team that has the reigning defensive player of the year and was just in the finals. It was gonna be a dog fight, for us to get settled against a defense like that, and they simply out performed us.” I look down at the stat sheet in front of me, I had 5 turnovers to my 4 assists, and I fucking hate turning the ball over.

“Kayla McBride is a dog, she guarded me well tonight, forced me into some bad shots and got a few turnovers from me. But I gotta take all that and learn from it, it’s still too early in the season to stress out over things that are fixable.”

I'm the only one sitting at the podium tonight, Rickea and Dearica doing theirs together and Zia who had just gone before me. I knew what the gist of the questions would be, turnovers, defense, and the most gruesome: injuries.

“We saw you roll your ankle pretty bad tonight. Even though you finished the game, can you tell us a bit about the seriousness of it?” It’s a different reporter now, one that I recognize from our win the other night.

I shake my head. My ankle was fine up until he just mentioned it. Now, it stung bad. I had some extra tape around it, it was only sore, while I was sitting but walking and running full speed on the court made that shit hurt like no other.

“It’s not serious.” I reply honestly. “We got two days off before the next game at home so I’m not worried. I’m gonna treat it like any other tweak and just follow what the trainers got for me, and hopefully we have a better night against Minnesota on Friday.”

It seems like that is a sufficient answer for the rest of the reporters in the room when I hear that wonderful “no more questions.” I stand up gingerly from my seat. They don’t miss my slight limp, but after a few steps the pain shakes off and it just feels uncomfortable.

When I get back to the locker room it’s damn near empty except for Cameron and Rae. I give them both curt nods before heading over to my locker.

They don’t speak to me, which I’m silently grateful for because I might snap at them unintentionally. Losing is one thing, playing like dog shit is another, but my ankle really put the nail in the coffin.

I attempt to clean up my locker a bit, making life a little bit easier for the ladies who’re gonna come in and clean up when we leave. I throw my jersey and shorts in the growing pile of towels and warm ups and all other gear before reaching for my phone in the bag.

just saw the injury on tv, pray it’s not too bad ❤️‍🩹

That’s the second most recent text in my phone, from about an hour ago from Maraye. It just briefly brings a smile to my face that I can’t even fight. It’s crazy to me that even when I’m at my grumpiest she finds a way to make me forget about it all.

I scroll through the rest of my notifications before tapping on her contact. I see that she texted me multiple times tonight throughout different parts of the game.

don’t fuck up my parlay tonight. jk good luck fav! 7:09pm

OKAY BLOCKKK GET UP THEN 7:20pm

omg the cross over??? don’t do her like that p 😮‍💨 8:03pm

I laugh fights through my lips, she told me in Atlanta she would start live texting me during games, I didn’t think she was serious. Nevertheless, I find it adorable. Maraye, throughout the busyness that is her schedule, turned on my game and watched the whole thing, keeping me posted on all her thoughts throughout the night.

I’m so beyond saving.

My thumb scrolls back down to the bottom of the thread. I can’t deny the way my heartbeat quickens in my chest at the choice of heart emoji. It’s not quite a red heart, but it’s enough to let me know she cares. I can’t believe that I’m sitting here like I’m in high school again, psycho analyzing her texts and gushing over them until my face is red.

“You headin’ out?” I look up and Cam is getting ready to leave. She’s going to be fully cleared to play this week, probably not playing with us until right before All-star. I’m excited for her, and I can tell that she is too because it’s practically beaming off of her.

I nod. “Yeah, inna minute. I’ll catch you in the morning.” Cameron takes that answer and walks out alongside Rae. I grab my back shortly after them, getting up and leaving the locker room. The arena is quiet, so is the parking garage as I make my way out there. The chirp of my car alerts me to it. I drop my bag in the trunk before sitting down in my seat.

The cushion practically eats me alive, I haven’t been this physically exhausted in months.

Then I’m reminded that Maraye and I’d thread is still open on my phone. When I glance at the time I realize it’s not that late, I know that if I go home, I’ll just fall into the rabbit hole of watching film all night.

Instead I reach for the phone heavy in my sweatpants pocket. My thumbs begin typing away before sending Maraye a text back.

Nah it’s not all that bad

You busy? Or can I slide?

I make sure my phone is connected to the speakers. When He’s Not There by Kehlani plays through the car while I get settled. Following that, I place my phone on its spot on the center console. It isn’t until Maraye’s name flashes on my carplay screen that I finally pull out of the parking garage.

yes please, come see meee

—

Paige sits comfortably to my left on my couch. Her leg propped on my coffee table with a bag of ice resting on her swollen ankle.

It’s her first time at my apartment, but even then she navigates the place like she’s been here countless of times. It feels so similar to our friendship, just comfortable.

Her arm is draped over my shoulder as I nestle into her side. When she first came over, I sat on the other side of the couch, so far away from her you would think we were fighting. And then she started talking, pulling me closer with her words until I sat right next to her. My body is leaning into her warmth.

An NBA finals game plays on the TV. Knicks versus the Thunder, it’s in the last few minutes of overtime, a high intensity game that Paige swore she couldn’t miss a second of.

“He’s so fine.” I chirp jokingly, Shai Gilgeous Alexander is on the screen, about to shoot game tying free throws.

Paige pulls her arm off of me, looking down at me incredulously before reaching for my remote. She lowers the volume on the TV, reducing Mike Breen’s commentating to a whisper.

“Who, Shai?”

“Yeah. You don’t think so?” I ask, looking up at her with a grin.

“I’m like a raging homosexual, but if you like it I love it?”

I laugh at that, pushing her hair away from my view. It cascades down her shoulders in soft bright strands that tickle my face.

“You can never just laugh at my jokes.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny.” Paige says. The face she makes reacts to her own statement like it’s obvious, when we both know I could make her laugh until she cried if I wanted to. “And Shai isn’t your type.”

I move from my spot next to her, jumping up and turning my attention to her face, while hers are stuck to the game. The way she is seated briefly makes me forget my train of thought. Her legs are spread comfortably and she leans back on the couch with her arms against the back of the couch. She looks like a fuckboy, and in any other scenario I would make fun of her for it, but the TV glow shines on her face just right and her cologne in my nose nearly makes me go blind.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s my type then, Paige?”

A commercial cuts on and Paige finally draws her eyes away from the screen. “What, Julian’s lightskin ass wasn’t the giveaway?” She laughs at her own joke, it’s stupid, but I love that laugh. So uniquely her. “Or y’want me to say you like six foot blonde girls.”

I roll my eyes, and when my vision clears up again, Paige is grinning at me.

“C’mon it was funny!”

“I don’t like women, idiot.”

“You like me.”

“I do not. I don’t even know why I let you hang out around me.” My body turns and my back hits the couch with a soft thud. Just to annoy her I sit further away from her body.

“Yeah okay, ma. You keep tellin’ yourself that.” Paige’s voice is low, a deep and raspy tone that I have never heard from her before. With Julian that had always been a given— he’s a man with a deep voice, that’s obvious. But when I hear it from Paige, I don’t know. It’s different.

My body just barely reacts to the pet name, but it’s there. The glob of saliva that pushes down my dry throat. And my legs just slightly press together. Paige reaches for the pocket of my striped shorts, tugging me back to my original spot in the curve of her body.

“You’ve really never done anything with a girl before?”

“Paige—”

“No, not to be annoying. I’m just wondering.” She shrugs. Her hand reaches over to flick the bag of ice off her ankle and brings her leg down to my carpet. She looks down at me slowly, a lick of her lips and scan of my face lets me know she’s listening, waiting for my response.

I return her gaze. “Yes, I’ve really never done anything with a girl before.”

“Why? We’re much better. Better than whatever Julian is doing for you, I can tell you that much.” Paige’s voice is smug, teasing almost. I don’t know if she’s trying to rile me up between my legs or in my heart so I defend Julian. Either way it’s working, my heartbeat quickening in my chest.

“You seem sure about that.”

She nods. “I am. I think you forget how often you complain to me about that guy.” She says with a laugh.

The game in front of us is dying down, a three point lead for the Knicks with 40 seconds left in overtime, Oklahoma just now calling a timeout. I know she’s into the game, way more than me, but still she looks at me with an intensity that makes it feel like we’re the only two things in the world.

“Doesn’t mean a girl could do it better.”

Her eyes darted from my eyes to my lips, I’m expecting them to move. To look back at my eyes or even at the TV but she doesn’t. Just me.

“Y’believe that?” Paige asks me.

“Uh huh.”

I’m going to lose. Whatever is going on with Paige and I, what has been going on for the last few weeks. The banter, the tension, the constant touching, it’s all a fight. Her and I are going back and forth like a fucking tennis match and she’s about to win. She’s about to make me lose whatever is left of my composure and grab the collar of her Hopkins High School t-shirt and kiss her until there’s no more breath in my lungs.

“Yeah? Ion know, can’t knock it till you try it.” She says, leaning into me for all of 5 milliseconds before sitting back in her seat and looking at the screen. The volume raises on my TV the cheers and commentary bouncing off the walls of my home.

Paige has left me frozen. Stuck there, in the exact position that she left me in. My eyes staring into the side of her perfect skin, burning holes there if I had the capability. I need her. My thighs are damn near glued together to keep me from dripping down my couch.

I adjust my position some, sitting uncomfortably on my heels but with the way Paige is manspreading, it gives me just enough to be an inch taller than her. She looks at me, eyes trailing from my thighs past my covered stomach and chest, suddenly I’m hyper aware of how close my tits are from falling out of my Skims top.

“There some’ you wanna tell me, angel?” She asks. I hate the way that nickname makes me feel. She’s the only one that calls me that, the only one who makes me feel so small with just a single word. “Or you jus’ gonna keep lookin’ at me?”

The words just barely die in the air before I’m leaning into her, pressing my lips to hers.

It starts off soft, so soft. Her body hesitates, like she knows better than to kiss me back but she does so anyway, tilting her head further and deepening the kiss. Paige hums against me, her arms still pressed against the back of the couch as if she has to avoid touching me. As if the second her hands touch my body then it’s game over.

She bites my bottom lip, making me moan against her. I further into the kiss, cupping her cheek and then it really is game over. Paige reaches for my hips, lifting my body onto her lap and settling my thighs on the outside of hers.

Her tongue is entering my mouth, warm and tasting like candy. They’re clashing, messy and sticky and so damn hot. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of her I’m not sure I want to give it up.

Paige roams my body with fervor. Trailing just a bit further to grab at my ass, kneading it in her large and veiny hands. I pull back from her breathlessly. Her hair is messy, lips so swollen and pink. It leaves me soaked as a response.

“This is doin’ so much damage. Y’know that?” She asks. Her hand travel back up my body to the back of my neck. I know it’s wrong, but still I let her pull me back into her.

“Mmm, Ion wanna— stop.” I speak against her lips, letting her kiss me as she pleases. Grope me as she pleases. Talk to me as nasty as she wants to. I miss it, the feeling of being so vulgar with another person. Paige is on a different level and I want so much more. More of her, more than anyone has ever given me but for whatever reason I know that she can.

My phone starts ringing. I try to pull back to answer it but she pulls me right back, navigating my mouth with her tongue.

“Don’t.” She mumbles.

“I gotta.” I tell her pulling back with such force that I’m almost falling off the couch. I need to. Because if I don’t stop, I’m gonna let her see me in my most vulnerable state and even I know how wrong that would be.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, swiping to answer the call before I can even see who it is.

“Hello?” My voice is wheezy, and I’m huffing and puffing into the speaker.

“Hey, baby. You home?”

It’s Julian. Of course it is. Of course God would let this man call me in the middle of making out with Paige just to make me feel guilty. Like the asshole I so obviously am right now.

“N— yeah. Yeah, but I’m busy. Sorry.” I stutter. “Paige is over right now.” I tell him honestly. But still, my breath hitches at my mention of her name. She rubs my thighs while I speak, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.

Her hand travels to her mouth, holding up one finger to her lips with a snide glare. I reach to slap her hand away, barely listening to what Julian says to me on the other line.

Blah blah blah I miss you blah blah blah needa start hanging out with me blah blah less Paige. It’s gibberish. And I don't care.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Ju.” I tell him, bothered by his continued talking and wanting to occupy myself with something else. Namely, the pink lips in front of me that look so fucking pretty and the gorgeous face just inches away from mine.

I toss my phone on the couch after Julian responds and hangs up.

“You fuckin’ like me.”

“And don’t.” Just when I’m about to hop off of her lap, the TV blares loudly.

“Bang! Bang! Shai Gilgeous-Alexander takes us into double overtime!” Mike Breen’s cheers echo into my ears. Paige looks past me, obviously upset that she missed the shot.

“Damn. He’s good and fine?”

“Dont get fucked up, Raye.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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muniimyg · 11 months ago

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7.5: the perilla leaf 》 series m.list

note: nah cos why did u guys blow up 6.5??? jus cos it was nasty sex ????? WAS THE MIRROR SEX CH NOT AS HOT ???? 😭 jus kidding … hello to my new readers !! hello to my day 1s !!! i’m so glad u’re here <3 enj this ch as we are near the end … i know i took a hot minute... but now u guys will know WHY. pls lmk ur thots ,, i am in desperate need of validation cos i’m losing motivation 😀✊🏽 mwah ,, wuv u all ,, until next time !

warnings: this ch is lengthy !!! i'm too lazy to do a word count... anyways,, miscommunication (jk & mina, mina & oc, eunwoo & jk & oc, etc etc), rejection (take a wild guess 😛) and jealousy ((take an even wilder guess)) angst & implied smut (((pls do not be like jk,, he’s such a douche in this ch))) oc has mean girl vibes... etc etc👨‍🍳✨

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @bloopkook @suciedad-divina @xelenavazquezx @kyjjk @parkinglot-nights @skzthinker @thisisaburnphone @rrjkive @hyuneyeon @chemicalclub @bbtsficrecs @ronyiboniyy @italiekim

When Yuna meets you, she's wearing Taehyung’s jersey.

You keep your mouth shut about it, hoping if you don’t bring up her situationship with Taehyung—she won’t bring up yours with Jungkook.

It’s simple girl logic. Something you’ve always loved about Yuna is that even though she is the nosiest human to ever exist—she knows her boundaries when it comes to you. With that, you’ve always felt safe with her. Eventually, you’ll tell her everything. Besides, what fun is being in a situationship when your loving friends come in with their thoughts and concerns? Evidentially bringing the truth to light and ending your delusion?

No fun!

Speaking of delusion…

“Oh my god,” Yuna gasps as she makes an effort to block your view. You huff at her, annoyed at how childish she’s acting. She waves her arms frantically, trying to keep you focused on the other side of the bleachers. Isn’t that ridiculous? For someone trying to get you to avoid looking a specific way, she draws all the attention to it. “Babes, whatever you do, don’t look—___, seriously? Stop! Please, you’re just going to—”

In disbelief, you grumble; “why is Mina wearing Jungkook’s jersey?”

Your own words make you want to throw up.

What the actual fuck.

She’s standing a few feet away from the soccer team with her friends. The towels in their hands—at this point should be pompoms—make them look so… Entitled? You don’t even know half of the girls she’s standing with. Yet, you hate them.

You despise them and the way they look so perfect.

They’re all wearing a team member’s jersey… Mina just so happens to have Jungkook’s on. It makes you wonder… Did he give that to her? Did they meet after you two fucked? Did he really mean it when he said, “quickie?”

Did he mean anything he said to you at the party? Not that he was making promises... It's just irritating because you almost believed him.

Believed in being his girl.

... Whatever that means.

His words were sweet but the way he looked into your eyes was his entire tell. They were sweeter. He had a softness in his gaze. It looked genuine—you swear it was.

“I think the jerseys are from last season… Look!” Yuna tugs the fabric of the jersey sleeve to you and begins to point details out. “See? This is Taehyung’s from this season. It’s made of thinner material and even the colour is lighter! Mina’s is—”

You turn the other cheek, not bothering to entertain the rest of this conversation. What was the use? You’d only hurt yourself with all the overthinking and cause drama between you and Jungkook. Besides, you have faith in him. He knows how you feel when it comes to Mina… He wouldn’t push it, right? And if anything… You can’t seem to think of a reason why he would be upset with you right now.

The quickie was just a quickie.

Not much to say. He was normal—until he left. Jungkook had left without saying goodbye and it made you feel a little weird. Not even a text? Not even a heads-up? Not even a kiss? Odd of him.

Again, it’s nothing worth starting a fight.

… And besides, when were you guys the type to fight over things like this? You two aren’t dating. Communication—in this sense—is it really necessary?

“Shit,” Yuna nudges you. “She’s waving at us. Wave back so she doesn’t know we’re talking shit—”

“We’re not talking shit,” you hiss. “Who even cares?”

“Okay, jealous era!” Her words earn an eye roll from you. Quickly, you give in and flash Mina a faint smile and wave your hands at her. She giggles and returns to chatting with her friends.

“Remind me again… Why did I come?” you groan as you take a seat. Ignoring you, Yuna sits down beside you and takes her phone out. You peek over and see that she’s texting Taehyung good luck. “Do you go to all their games?”

“I try to.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Yuna snorts. “Taehyung likes the support.”

You bite your tongue.

Should you even ask? It’s probably safer to assume, right?

“Do you like Taehyung?” Your words come out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Afraid of her reaction, you brace yourself for her defensiveness. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk.

“Do you like Jungkook?”

Stupid question.

Just when Yuna thinks you’re about to react to her question, the crowd begins to cheer. You two turn your attention to the field where your Uni’s team and the opposing team all come out and shake each other’s hands. Then, they run a small lap around the bleachers and briefly greet everyone.

You watch Jungkook in silence. You don’t cheer his name or even wave. It doesn’t matter though. He sees you.

When he does, he playfully squints his eyes and tilts his chin up. With both of his hands, he makes the OK hand gesture and brings the circle parts to his eyes. Then, he flips one.

69.

Your eyes widen. As you throw your head back to laugh, out of instinct, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles and returns your gesture by blowing you a kiss.

Mina watches as he blows his kiss towards you.

Her cheers go quiet. For a split second, you two make eye contact. She smiles at you shyly. You gulp and turn your attention back to the field. Shortly, the game begins. As the crowd cheers, she finds her mood again. Meanwhile, your attention goes back and forth to Mina, cheering on the sidelines, and Jungkook, playing like losing isn’t an option.

For some reason, you feel a little bad. She’s so supportive and cute (you hate to admit it)… And he’s… Well, why does it matter what he is? All you know is that he isn’t hers.

Yet, he isn’t yours either.

Jungkook scores the final goal.

Of course, he does.

As the crowd goes wild, you can’t help but join in. His teammates run to him, engulfing him like the ace he is. Jungkook pokes his head out and looks at the crowd. When his eyes land on you, you offer him and smile and a thumbs up. He sticks his tongue out at you before he returns to his victorious team.

Shortly after, Yuna guides you down to the field the minute your area clears. As she does this, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What were you going to say to him? Even if you had already seen and spent time with him today, right now feels a lot different.

The way to the field isn’t that long of a walk. Suddenly, you’re standing across from him. He’s saying his last few goodbyes to his teammates and hanging back with Taehyung. Yuna sprints to Taehyung, happily congratulating him and teasing his soccer moves. You watch in awe as the two bond and laugh together. Walking to Jungkook, you keep your head high.

He would be happy you showed up, right? You didn’t text him that you were coming… But this is a good surprise! At least, you hope it is. He mentioned not telling you about the game because he didn’t feel like begging you to come. Well, here you are. No begging and no sour attitude. You’re here for him.

It’s all shits and giggles until Mina beats you to him.

He’s only a few steps away from you, but in an instant—he feels so far away. You pause, wondering if you should continue to walk to him. It doesn’t matter if he was watching or waiting for you to come to him; you can leave right now. You could turn around and just wait by the bleachers. Or… You could just go home.

Perhaps there’s a look in your eye that gives your thoughts away or maybe, your friends just know you too well.

Yuna catches you backing away. She glares at you and side-eyes the direction towards Jungkook. In response, you shake your head with a polite smile—a smile that is trying to mask the fact that you kind of want to rip Mina’s cute head off.

Polite.

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone grab onto your forearm. Looking up, you realize it’s Eunwoo.

“When we were dating, I almost always begged you to come to these games,” Eunwoo complains, grinning ear to ear. “Funny seeing you here.”

Eunwoo isn’t on the team.

He doesn’t even play soccer, really. Basketball is more of his thing. In all fairness, he loves sports and a lot of his friends are on the soccer team. When you two were dating, you were almost never together on Friday nights because of these stupid games. He’d beg for you to come with him and you’d reject and promise him your Saturday night.

“You aren’t even on the team,” you laugh, earning an embarrassed grin from him. “What’s the point of going to a game if your boyfriend isn’t on the team?”

He tilts his head. Suddenly, your words sink in. Did you really just say that?

“I came with Yuna!” you attempt to save yourself. “She always comes to these things… For Taehyung or something.. I—I just thought I’d c-check it out.”

Eunwoo gives you a funny look.

You aren’t sure if he bought your excuse but you’ll pretend like he did just to salvage any dignity you have left. Everything feels so embarrassing right now. Nothing is going your way and you just feel so out of place.

Is it overstimulation?

You came all this way to see one person—why are there so many other people?

“Are you here to see Jungkook?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. “You know… Since he’s on the team.”

Eyes widened, you shake your head profusely. “Ew! W-what? No! Who said that? I’m here because my friends are on the team and—”

“You’re a bad liar,” he interrupts you. “Always have been. You should stick with being honest.”

You huff at him. Out of everyone here, he’s probably your safest option when it comes to admitting the truth. In a way—in your way—you give in.

“He’s talking to Mina.”

“Oh,” Eunwoo turns his head, seeing for himself what all your fuss is about. When he takes it all in, he turns back to you with a shrug. “She’s cute.”

“She is cute… You should date her.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes before engulfing you in a bear hug. He ruffles your hair, knowing you hate it when he does this. You groan and shove him away from you. As you compose yourself, he sighs.

“Yah, ___,” Eunwoo lifts his finger and points at you. With a serious tone, he warns you: “Don’t be so obvious with your jealousy. It hurts my feelings that you never acted this jealous when it came to me.”

You smile at him sweetly. “That’s because you’re a well-trained dog.”

“Ouch!” Eunwoo laughs, pretending you hurt his heart. “Yes, it’s true. What can I say? Any day being your bitch is a good day to be a dog… That’s why I’m still begging for you back even though I broke up with you.”

With a whiney tone, you say, “oh, shut up.”

“Still a no to the whole getting-back-together-with-me thing?” he winks, sightly kidding and slightly not. You cross your arms and shake your head at him. He attempts one last time. “Awh, come on! We can even fake date just to get a reaction out of Jungkook… I have no problem betraying friendship for love.”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

This time, you roll your eyes at him and tell him he’s being ridiculous. You remind him that his little drunken confession at the party was close to meaningless. He knew from the very start that you’re the type to move on when things end. Good or bad, you never look back. You’ve lived your life this way for so long—you can’t recall whether it brought you more luck or pain.

Eunwoo doesn’t care for your little speech. Instead, he laughs and continues to push your buttons.

“Wow, you must love Jungkook at this point. You know, you can just say that, right? You loveeee—“

You lunge yourself to him, attempting to playfully put him in a chokehold. He’s a lot taller than you so you struggle. Honesty, it’s cute and he can’t resist you. Eunwoo laughs and bends his knees, pretending to struggle as you seek revenge. He gives in, letting you have your way.

Meanwhile, Jungkook can’t concentrate on his conversation with Mina.

The big smile on his face faded as he watched you turn away when you were only a few steps away from him. How could you do such a thing? You walking towards him made him so happy. It was a sight he had been daydreaming of for the past few days. Though he saw you just hours before, he didn’t expect to see you at the game.

He thought you didn’t care.

Yet, there you were.

Shit, how does he even begin to explain how it felt to see you there? How annoying it was when you threw your head back to laugh, and his heart raced like never before? He was obsessed with you. Every little thing you do—he was your number one fan.

Except for moments like these.

Where you hesitate as you walk towards him. Where you get distracted and forget about him just because your ex showed up.

Where you give up.

“... And so, I guess… What I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to grab dinner with me and my friends? And then maybe we could do something after that… Alone? Like just the two of us?” Mina’s voice cuts in, interrupting Jungkook’s thoughts of you. “We could watch a movie at my place? My roommate went home for the weekend so we’d have the place to ourselves.”

He stares blankly, trying his best to process everything Mina is blabbing about.

“Ohh… Thanks for the offer! You know the team and I usually celebrate with dinner together, right? ” Jungkook says it happily as if he isn’t rejecting her. “Next time?”

Idiot, Jungkook thinks to himself.

No next time. No this time. No nothing.

Why does he do this? Why does he always push things back for Mina when he doesn’t even want to reschedule? He doesn’t want to reject her… But he does.

Within seconds, the disappointment in Mina’s eyes fades when she comes up with a solution. Her eyes light up, believing in the compromise she’s about to pitch. “Then maybe I could join you guys? Taehyung and Yuna already know me and—”

“But it’s a team thing.”

Mina’s eyebrows furrow. Slightly offended, she pushes the conversation. “Oh… But Eunwoo goes. Yuna does too. She isn’t on the team—she’s just dating Taehyung.”

“No, she isn’t,” Jungkook laughs, finding the assumption cute. “At least, not yet.”

It’s not that funny, though. Mina doesn’t laugh and the silence between the two is heavy. Her facial expression drops, indicating her mood shifts to something less enthusiastic.

Annoyance?

Desperation?

Hurt.

“___ isn’t on the team. She isn’t dating you… But she’ll be there, right?” Mina chokes her words out as if she’s accepting her defeat. Saying this is a wildcard, but she plays it anyway. “Or what I mean to say is that she’s not dating you… Not yet. Haha.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s dry and it’s… Nothing. No words, no thoughts.

He can’t think of a defense and he isn’t even really sure what he’s supposed to say. In his lifetime, he has gotten more than a handful of confessions… But for some reason, this one feels painful.

Pitiful.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jungkook breathes. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Mina shyly. “I really appreciate the support—I really do. It’s just… I never wanted yours.”

Mina stares at him blankly.

“Okay, I get that… But… This is what you do when you like someone. You do thoughtful things they never ask for. You sit through their practices even if it’s pouring rain or hot as fuck. You wash your towels with their favourite laundry detergent because they mentioned they're sensitive to strong scents—no, actually… I think you drive them home and ignore the other girl who sits with his friends and waits for him… Right? You blow her kisses from across the field instead of the girl that helped set up for the game.”

Jungkook’s heart drops.

“Mina—”

“I waited for you and you never came. You didn’t even text me. Do you know how that feels? To wait for someone and they don’t even—god, I like you so much I made myself look sooo stupid.” Mina groans in frustration. She puts her hands to her face, taking a breath in before continuing to get things off her chest.

“I should’ve left. Instead, I stayed and checked my phone every two minutes in case you texted. Then, I thought, okay… At least I can try to bond with your friends. But you know what? All they could talk about was you and ___. I sat there, listening and nodding like an idiot.”

Fuck.

Jungkook wants to sympathize with her, but can’t find the words or the strength to reach out. As he hesitates, Mina gathers her final thoughts and makes her last few moves. Abruptly, she shoves the towel in her hands to Jungkook’s chest.

“She didn’t even know you joined the team again after quitting. She has never gone to a game until today. She doesn’t even chant your name or cheer when you score a goal. She’s over there, flirting with her ex-boyfriend while you’re here rejecting me.” Mina fumes. “Is that who you’re going to pick over me? If so, fine. Nice choice, Jungkook. I wish you the best. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“You chose to be here. Look at yourself. Why are you even wearing that?” Jungkook points at the jersey she has on. Mina tightens her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She pushes past him but pauses when Jungkook mumbles the words, “You led yourself on.”

Sharply, Mina raises her voice. “She doesn’t even want you.”

Ouch.

Mina’s words hit Jungkook right in the heart. Right in the spot where his insecurities and overthinking take place—the words strike him.

They hurt him.

They kill him.

“Don’t speak for her,” he warns, gaze lowered and stern. “She may not have cheered as loud as you during the game, but who fucking cares when she was chanting my name the other night… Or was it before the game today? I can’t remember. Fucked around too much to remember.”

Mina darts Jungkook a glare. “You’re an insensitive asshole. Do you know that?”

Jungkook huffs, beginning to feel frustrated. “Your feelings are yours, my feelings are mine. So, you don’t get to say shit about ___ to me—not about the way she treats me or her choices. I’m a grown man, Mina. I can figure it out when I need to pull out and how much shit I can take.”

“Mind giving me a few lessons, then?” she asks, eyes beginning to tear up. “I think I put up with yours for a minute too long.”

Everything becomes difficult in that exact second. There’s so much empathy Jungkook wants to express, but can not. He should not. He needs to pull away now or else he would be doing exactly what she’s accusing him of doing—leading her on.

“I’m sorry, Mina,” Jungkook apologizes softly, truly feeling stuck. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Mina sighs, eyes watery from the tears that threaten to fall. “You’re a grown man, Jungkook. You can figure it out when you need to pull out and how much shit you can take.”

Jungkook lowers his head, feeling bad for his harsh words. A part of him hates how this interaction went down. He could’ve been kinder. He should’ve been kinder. At the same time, it feels like this is all worth it. There’s no better way to end things than just to cut everything off.

Still, he attempts one last time.

“Mina,” Jungkook raises his face and looks at her in the eyes. “Look, I was as honest as I could be. I didn’t know I would like her so much. I didn’t know I’d feel this way about her at all… It just happened. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m so sorry. With my whole heart, I am so fucking sorry."

Mina gulps, a little taken aback by his words. There’s a relief in her heart when Jungkook expresses his feelings to her. At least, there was clarity.

At least, he was honest.

At least, it ends like this.

She balls her fists and raises them. Waving them in the air, slowly and cutely, she smiles at Jungkook one last time.

Softly, she cheers, “go, Jungkook. Go.”

In the past, the friendgroup seating arrangement was a no-brainer. The order always went: other friends, you, Yuna, Taehyung, and then Jungkook. This was the blueprint.

Tonight, it’s different.

It earns a few confused looks, but nothing major. No one thinks twice about it. Maybe that’s because they didn’t catch the small moment in between—the one where Jungkook tugged on the hem of your crewneck and you complied. Taking a seat beside him, he keeps his hands near yours.

Though the restaurant is packed and busy, sitting beside Jungkook feels slow.

Was this even possible? For time to feel like it slows down when you’re beside him? It’s like every gesture he makes, every word that comes out of his mouth, and every stolen glance at you feels mindlessly slow. Yet, your heart races beside him. Even then, you can’t deny how gentle he is.

How every fingertip brush he makes is intentional. How he eventually hooks his pinky onto yours. How he inches closer and closer to you. Each time, you look away and pretend you don’t notice it. You do. You really do.

It feels strange.

Back at the field, it felt like he didn’t pay attention to you. Was it because of whatever he and Mina had discussed moments before? He didn’t talk about it when he joined you and Eunwoo. Instead, he kindly greeted you two and excused himself to quickly shower at the locker room before heading out to dinner. You and Eunwoo agreed to wait for him.

So, you can’t put your finger on it.

He was acting strange, but it wasn’t like anyone else was saying anything about it. A part of you wonders if it’s all in your head. Even though he had acknowledged your presence and excused himself politely—it felt like he was distant.

It hurt your feelings.

Why is he acting so weird? The possibilities you make in your head feel limited. The entire way here, you kept replaying moments between you two recently. What could have gone wrong? What could you have done wrong? What about him changed his mind about you? These thoughts flooded your mind so much that you didn’t even realize that he tugged on your crewneck for you to sit down beside him.

Now, here you are.

Mind racing with anxious thoughts, sitting beside the man who is the cause.

Your mind is telling you one thing, but his actions are proving otherwise. You don’t know which to believe and it makes you unsure of what to do. Everything is muffled and you can barely make out the small talk happening around you. The only thing clearer than your confused feelings are Jungkook’s gentle touches.

… That is until Yuna and Eunwoo begin to argue.

“Don’t you usually sit beside her?”

Yuna dismisses him. “Who cares?”

“I do,” Eunwoo protests. “If anyone is going to steal your seat, it’s going to be me!”

“No! You can’t. You can sit beside Taehyung—”

Eunwoo crosses his arms at her. “I thought you liked me. Am I no longer your favourite?”

His words trigger Yuna’s shoulders to drop. She bites her tongue and side eyes Jungkook. Jungkook catches her look and simply clears his throat. Then, he nudges you.

“Let Yuna sit beside you.” Jungkook’s tone is serious yet casual. You tilt your head at him and give him a weird look.

“Why does it matter?” you press. In all honesty, you aren't sure of what answer to expect. You're just poking the bear just because you can.

“I’m sitting beside you,” Jungkook points out. “It only makes sense that Yuna sits on your other side. Your favourite people in the world, you know?”

Unfazed, you shake your head. “Be honest… Do you not want Eunwoo to sit beside me?”

“I’m sitting beside you. Focus on that.”

You huff. “It’s yes or no, Jungkook.”

“Or.”

He answers without a lighthearted tone. Without a smile. Without the intention of miscommunicating what he wants. You can’t help but pity him. It’s obvious he’s a little sensitive right now and considering how he left things with you earlier—maybe you should be kinder. Maybe you should cater to him tonight.

But… At the same time…

Jungkook is being difficult, so maybe you should run the same play.

Okay, fine.

Since the ball is in your court, you shoot your shot.

“Eunwoo,” you say sweetly, “sit beside me. Yuna can sit beside Taehyung.”

Taehyung, who is sitting across from you, gulps. He instantly feels like he’s caught in the middle. Between trying to please every request Yuna throws at him to catering to his friends—when would this agony end? When could he finally have peace and not get poop anxiety from all this drama?

“But ___—”

You hush your best friend. Yuna pouts and glares at Eunwoo. Truth be told, she doesn’t care if she’s the one sitting beside you or not—she just didn’t want it to be Eunwoo. For Jungkook’s sake; she wanted it to be him. But by the looks of it, Jungkook is in a mood and you’re way too in your head tonight. Ultimately, she accepts her defeat and slumps beside Taehyung.

Taehyung tries to cheer her up by pointing at her favourite foods. It works. She instantly smiles and sits up with pep. He lets out a breath of relief and shares a look with Jungkook. A, that-was-a-close-one kind that makes Jungkook laugh. You watch as he laughs and can’t help but feel your annoyance begin to fade.

Okay… It’s confirmed. He’s in a weird mood tonight, but he’s still Jungkook.

He is still your Jungkook.

As Eunwoo settles beside you, he strikes up a conversation with the other teammates around him. On your left, you just hear Eunwoo talking your ear off. On your right, Jungkook goes on his phone and goes quiet. Only every so often would he chuckle or make a side comments.

It’s then that you realize you hate where you’re sitting.

So, you do the only logical thing you can.

Flirt with him.

Slowly, you place your hand on Jungkook’s thigh. You lean forward, pressing some weight on him. He puts his phone down and looks up at you. Cutely, you smile at him and take your hands off his lap.

Patting his head, you softly tell him; “Jungkook, you played well.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair and look into his eyes. You bat your eyelashes a few times, attempting to act cute. Deep inside, you hope this works. You hope you win him over.

You do.

Right then and there, all his plans go out the window. He will never get used to this. He loves hearing praises from your lips. In complete trance of how you say it, what you say, and why you say it—everything. He craves for you to be obsessed with him the way he is with you.

So, fuck it.

He could pause his sulky attitude for you.

Anything for you.

Jungkook’s lips curve into a half smile. “Don’t be cute.”

“Why?” you pout. “Is it working?”

“Are you trying to entice me?” He chuckles before leaning close to you and lowering his voice. “It’s working, I’ll admit that… But it’s kind of shameless of you to be trying so hard right now. Our friends are here, ___… Don’t start shit you can’t finish, pookie.”

Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “I always finish.”

“Is that so?”

You look at him as innocent as possible. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Jungkook goes dizzy.

As he’s about to make a shameless remark, the waiter squeezes himself in between you two and places water down for the table. Everyone thanks him and reaches for a cup. Jungkook hands you one and you drink it.

“Thirsty as always,” he shakes his head at you fondly.

Then, he takes a sip of his water. By complete accident, some water spills and gets the corner of his mouth and a bit of his chin wet. You laugh, put down your cup, and tug on your sleeves. Without much thought, you move closer to him and use your sleeves to dry him.

“You always spill your drink,” you nag. “Are you a child?”

He stays still, not wanting you to move away. “No.”

You taunt him. “Baby.”

“Who the fuck is baby?” Jungkook mimics.

Lowering your gaze, you send him a warning look. He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. As you finish cleaning him up, you sneak in a final comment. “Yah, a lot of girls would break up with you if you do this shit on a first date… Such an ick. Imagine going out with a guy that needs a sippy cup.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at how extensive you’re stretching this out. “It’s charming. I make it charming. My girlfriend would just have to get over it. It’s that simple.”

“Sure,” you agree with a sarcastic tone. “As if I can ever get over it.”

At this point, Jungkook is going to lose track of how many times you’ve made his heart skip a beat. This is completely unfair. How do you say shit like that so easily and captivate him without even knowing? Should he say something about it?

As he opens his mouth to speak, he loses his chance.

“___, Jungkook,” Eunwoo chimes in, “Since this is ___’s first time eating with the team… Should we just order our usual?”

Jungkook nods, agreeing with the suggestion. You do the same and state you feel indifferent. Eunwoo then goes on and on about the food. He tells you about the dishes he thinks you’ll like and which ones you should avoid due to your preferences. All the shit he says are things Jungkook has noticed about you before—it just annoys the hell out of him that Eunwoo is telling you all this shit like he’s still your boyfriend.

He isn’t.

So, he should shut the fuck up, right?

Jungkook’s thoughts are put on pause when his phone vibrates. He looks at the notification and reads:

Yuna [8:07PM]: stop making that face

Yuna [8:07PM]: idk if u're jealous or need to shit

Jungkook [8:08PM]: lol but like did u see her flirting w me 😌🤘

Yuna [8:08PM]: yes. do u want a medal or smt?

Jungkook [8:09PM]: she wants me fr 🦄💕

Yuna [8:11PM]: is that why she nd eunwoo look like they're abt to kiss?? 😳

Instantly, Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns to you. You're just laughing and talking with Eunwoo. No kissing in sight.

Yuna [8:11PM]: made u look 🤣

Jungkook [8:13PM]: not funny.

Yuna's laughter fills the room. You turn to her, breaking away from your conversation with Eunwoo.

"What's so funny?" you ask.

She shrugs with a smug smile on her face. Pointing at him, she teases, "Jungkook's in a mood."

You look at Jungkook and see him roll his eyes. He sinks into his seat and mutters a few inaudible words. From the looks of it, you can almost swear that his eyes were a little teary. Was he about to cry or something?

"You okay?" you ask him softly. Your concern grows as he lifts his face and looks at you. He looks tired. Exhausted even. "Do you wanna talk?"

Jungkook feels a sense of relief.

You care.

Thank god you care.

In response, he squeezes your thigh. “I’m good,” he promises. “You okay?”

You nod, leaning in. “More than.”

It happens so fast. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you were barely an inch away from his lips. He even dipped his head—and then you caught yourself.

Holy shit, were you just about to kiss him? In front of everyone? When did this become second nature? You want to believe that only you caught yourself… But it’s too late. Jungkook was bracing himself.

He knew what you were about to do. He was giving in too.

As you break away, his heart breaks a little. Laughing awkwardly, you turn back to Eunwoo and continue your conversation with him. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’s just hangry or purely annoyed with everything and everyone. He feels so alone. He hates that you’re right beside him too.

He’s so fucking over this.

When the food arrives, the spread is breathtaking. Maybe it’s because everyone is hungry as fuck and the game was a huge success, but the mood suddenly lightens. The smell of meat being grilled and the sound of the side dishes being passed around was music to everyone’s ears.

As Jungkook grills the meat, he places the first one ready on your plate. He continues to pile your plate. With lingering eyes, Taehyung groans out in frustration.

“Yah!” He cries, “that’s unfair. You can’t possibly give ___ all that meat! Give me some!”

Yuna hits him playfully and tells him to let Jungkook be. She reaches over to the other grill and places meat on his plate. Taehyung huffs, and sinks into his seat.

“Jungkook used to put meat on my plate first.” Taehyung continues to whine.

You all hear him but choose to ignore his words. You aren’t even sure how you’re supposed to act with this. Jungkook was always sweet to you. He has always looked out for you. He has been a gentleman… Now that you’re paying attention to him—you can’t help but feel so infatuated.

You're drawn to him.

“Do you even eat that much meat?” Eunwoo teases, as he reaches over your plate and picks a piece of meat off. He shoves it in his mouth and you laugh at him. His cheeks are all puffy from the food he stuffed in.

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can steal it off my plate,” you mutter. “You’re such a thief.”

“I stole your heart once upon a time,” he reminds you. “I’ll be the thief if you’re the cop.”

You cringe at him. “Thank god you broke up with me.”

“You used to love my lines!” Eunwoo jokes, suddenly ruffing your hair like how he did at the field. You shove his hand away and groan at him.

Jungkook witnesses it all.

The entire time, he feels like he’s being tortured. Sure, you’re allowed to have other guy friends. Sure, you’re allowed to have exes… So why was this bothering him so much? Eunwoo is a good guy too! He’s his friend and it’s not like Jungkook has dibs. If we’re being realistic—Eunwoo had you first.

Cue Jungkook’s insecurities.

Do they know how long it took for Jungkook to get to where he is with you right now? How long he had to wait just for him to be able to hook your pinkies together under a table? How long it took for you to sit down beside him without arguing? How long it took for you to accept his presence? How long it took him to get you to act cute?

Too long.

And here Eunwoo is—a mere ex-boyfriend—getting your banters and treating you like you’re still his.

It makes Jungkook sick to his stomach. He’s losing his appetite by the second.

His thoughts are put on pause when Eunwoo proclaims: “___, look! Our favourite… Perilla leaves!”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge.

You smile at Eunwoo and practically celebrate with him. As he picks one up with his chopsticks, another sticks to it. As you pick up your chopsticks, you take the other side and peel the perilla leaf apart. Together, you and Eunwoo giggle and wrap the perilla leaf with some meat. Suddenly, he brings his wrapped perilla leaf to your mouth. Happily, you eat what he offered.

“Good bite, baby.” Eunwoo praises you.

With a mouth full, you childishly hit him and scold him for not taking a bite himself. Eunwoo listens and picks up another perilla leaf. You two repeat to peel them a part and—

Jungkook wants to kill himself.

Oh god, he wants to rip Eunwoo’s head off.

To make matters worse, Yuna attempts to be of rescue.

"Eunwoo," she gasps. "Aren't you being a little too shameless?"

Eunwoo shrugs as he prepares another bite for you. "Yuna, just because there's a goalie doesn't mean I can't score."

That does it. Something inside Jungkook snaps. He wants to be so mad at you—no, he is so mad at you.

How could you do this to him? How could you let Eunwoo say such things?

Don’t you know what this all means? Falling in love. Marriage. Children. A whole fucking nuclear future with someone that wasn’t him. It’s fucking insane you’d let Eunwoo go this far… And right in front of Jungkook? Were you serious? Do you hate him this much?

In a hurry, Jungkook takes his phone and opens his iMessage. He taps on your name— which is easy because it’s pinned—and sends you a text.

Then, he puts his phone down and begins to shove food into his mouth. He stays quiet and glares at the meat as if the meat did him wrong too. He can’t even begin to express how he feels—it’s just all over the place. He is all over the place.

When his text is sent, your phone vibrates. You glance at Jungkook, a little confused as you see that he sent you a text. Sliding your phone open, you tap on his message.

mfker [8:32PM]: video attachment

Curiously, you tap on the video. As it loads, you turn down your phone volume just in case it was too loud. When the volume icon goes away, your screen reveals a familiar zooming in shot of Jungkook's face. He rolls his eyes and you hear yourself laugh. Suddenly, the angle switches to you holding the camera out at arms length.

You see the corner of your face. Your boobs. Your ass. His abs. His smirk. Him. Naked.

Your hands fly to your mouth, stopping yourself from gasping out-loud.

The sex tape.

Your sex tape with him.

In a split second, you shut your phone and turn it over. Wide-eyed, you push yourself away from the table and make the effort to excuse yourself. Everyone acknowledges your announcement but for Jungkook. He doesn’t even look up.

As you get up, you turn to him. You utter under your breath, “meet me outside. We need to talk.”

The minute Jungkook slams his car door shut, you get right to the point.

“What the fuck was that?”

Jungkook settles into his seat, unafraid of your anger. He was unashamed. What he did was reckless, yes, but it was no mistake.

With a nonchalant tone, he answers you. “What? The video? You told me to send it to you.”

Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. “Not during dinner! Not when our friends are sitting beside us! That was fucking embarrassing. Are you trying to humiliate me? That shit is private. It's us intimate. What kind of game are you playing—”

“I’m not playing any fucking game,” Jungkook controls his rage. “Why are you so embarrassed? Because it’s me fucking you in that video and not Eunwoo?”

Your eyes widen at his words.

You want to scream. Instead, with a calm and slow tone, you confront him. “So… That’s what this is about?”

Jungkook sighs heavily, clearly fed up with this conversation already. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he reaches over and opens his glove compartment. As he rummages through, you huff at his avoidance. When he finds what he needs, he aggressively shuts the compartment closed. You watch as he brings his device to his lips. Inhaling, he takes a hit of his vape.

You glare at him.

“Can you do that on your own time? I’m trying to talk to you.”

He turns to you and blows a puff at you.

“Jungkook,” you warn him, “stop it.”

In response, he shrugs and takes a final hit.

“I didn’t even know you vape,” you say quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of your body and shit? As an athlete?”

He chuckles at the label. Athlete. Sure, that’s what he was… But he was also on a break for a good amount of time. He was also human.

“I’m just stressed,” he admits. “You make me stressed.”

You laugh and take the opportunity to grab the vape from his hands. Without much thought, you open your door and toss it out. He rolls his eyes and just as he’s about to open his car door to retrieve it—you catch his wrist.

“Can you focus on me?”

As much as he hates to admit it, your words will always win him over. Even though he hesitates, he surrenders. Jungkook settles himself into his seat again and puts his hands on the wheel. Bowing his head, he shuts his eyes and takes a moment.

Silence fills the car as you two try to figure out which direction this conversation should go. So far, not so good.

You attempt once again. This time, you go from a different angle.

“Why did you leave me earlier today? I know you were busy but… You didn’t even say goodbye.” In all honesty, you hate it when you say shit like this. You feel so weak and like you could let out a sob in between words. Not to mention the fact that you’re rarely in this position. This was new. You have never fought for anyone the way you fight for Jungkook.

“I had a game.”

Jungkook’s concise answer irks you. Was he fucking serious? Could he try even just a little bit?

“I know you had a game.. At least, I found out through Mina’s Instagram post… Which… I mean, you didn’t even bother telling me you had a game. Yuna goes to those—I can too.”

No.

That’s not even what you really mean to say. What you mean to say is: I want to go to your games. I want you to want me to be there. I want you to care if I’m there or not. I want to be the one wearing your fucking jersey.

Jungkook responds plainly, “I told you… I didn’t feel like begging for you to come.”

“You don’t have to beg,” you pitch. “I would have—”

“You would have what?” he sneers. “Would you have come then? Without me asking? Without me telling you? Or did you come out of spite? Like, the fact that Mina was around me and you weren’t… Is that what brought you to me today?”

Hilarious.

Wow, what a dick.

“No,” you object. “I came because you came over for a quickie and then left. Without a word. Without a kiss. It was unlike you. I wanted to talk about it but you’re acting like this and I can’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Jungkook, what’s going on?”

At this point, you're practically desperate. You reach for his hands. Eyes searching for his, he shakes your grip off his hands the second you intertwine them. You furrow your eyebrows, completely confused and shocked at his rejection. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

“I hate you.”

Suddenly, your throat feels dry. In an attempt to calm your mind, you search for his hands again. For the second time, he pushes yours away. Then, you brace yourself. What he says next could ultimately be the end… Right? This is where everything is headed.

The end.

Then, he says the oddest thing.

“I hate perilla leaves.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him?”

You blink.

“Who?”

“Eunwoo.”

For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. Was he actually serious? Your question is answered as Jungkook lifts his head and looks at you with a sad expression. It takes you by surprise. Come to think of it—you’ve never seen him upset. At least, not like this. Not sad. Not defeated.

“You’re mad at me… Because of a perilla leaf?”

Your loss for words. Unexplainable. Unbelievable.

He looks at you with despair. “Do you not get it? ___, the next thing to happen after you peel perilla leaves with someone is holding hands with them. Then, you fall in love. Marriage. Babies. What about me? What happens to me, huh? What happens to us? You don't even hold my hand.”

You’re dumbfounded.

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious…”

“He patted your head. Are you a fucking dog?”

Sharply, you mention, “I patted your head too.”

It doesn’t matter. He looks at you dead in the eyes. “Eunwoo is supposed to be your ex-boyfriend, not your fiancé.”

You almost gag. “He’s not my fiancé—”

“You peeled the perilla—no. You let him feed you. Fuck you for that.”

Frustrated, you curse. “Holy shit, do you hear yourself?”

He doesn't utter another word. Instead, he stays quiet. Then, when you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I hate Eunwoo.”

A beat.

“I hate Mina.”

Just as expected, Jungkook provokes you.

“What the hell does Mina have to do with this—”

“Everything!” you express rather triggered. "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I’m not going to go to your fucking practices with a towel in my hand ready to wipe your precious golden sweat. I’m not Mina—”

Jungkook cuts you off only to repeat his question. “What the hell does you not being Mina have to do with all of this? How does that justify the perilla leaf?”

At this point, you feel like you're losing your mind. Childishly, you chant: “Fuck the perilla leaf. The issue is that you're all about her. Mina this, Mina that! You’re so fucking annoying with her—”

Jungkook snaps. “Are you this insecure?”

“Fuck that,” you grumble. “She was wearing your jersey today. How do you think that made me feel?”

He glares at you. “You’re fucking insane if you think I rather see her wear my jersey over you.”

“Why’d she have it on then?” you interrogate. “Are you fucking her too?”

Line: crossed.

There's madness in Jungkook's eyes. His chest burns in slow anger and feels like he's overheating from everything you've said and done thus far. He's tired.. He feels like he's losing.

Fuck it.

One last fight.

One last try.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jungkook slows down his words, trying his best not to raise his voice. It’s so fucking hard. He’s so irritated by your attitude and your fucking delusion. “___, I acted like a total douche to Mina today so she’d leave me alone. I feel horrible already, but I also feel relieved. So, stop it. You don’t have to hate her. You shouldn’t hate her. You don’t need to make these fucking assumptions because that’s just out of line.”

Like fire, your own anger consumes you. “Are you defending her?”

“There’s nothing to defend,” he insists, voice beginning to tremble. “Holy shit, I was such a douche to her already so you can chill.”

You glare at him. “I am chill.”

Lies.

“You gave me a blowjob that one time so I wouldn’t make it to my dinner plans with her,” he comments. “That was a pretty bitch move.”

Out of reflex, your mouth drops a little. You can not believe it. Did he really bring that up? “Excuse me?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “It was a bitch move. I didn’t mind, though. Why? Because it felt like you wanted me. Every time you make me feel that way—I can’t let that shit go.”

“So what? Do you want me to say thank you?” you spit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t care if you—”

“You never asked for it, I get that,” Jungkook interrupts you. He takes a minute. Suddenly, he recalls his moment with Mina at the field and feels his heart break a little. So... This is what it feels like to be on the receiving end. “What I’m saying is that I stopped entertaining her because I—well, I thought it would ease your heart. You overthink so fucking much, I'm beginning to run out of solutions. Do you even know how much I hate your jokes? The ones about me talking to other girls? I hate them. I only talk to you. I only think of you. Only you.”

Your heart drops.

“I never asked for any of that.”

Something is wrong.

All your words are wrong. Everything you want to say is not coming out of your mouth. What you mean to say to him is; oh my god. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I feel so seen and heard that you did.

Jealousy has always been a funny thing. Never has it been triggered the way it is when it comes to you and Jungkook. Though some may argue this to be toxic, it is simply the truth about relationships. Jealousy is a healthy emotion as long as it is expressed and validated moderately. It’s so hard to be upset with Jungkook when his confessions are so wholesome. He did a kind thing for you. He did it to bring you peace. Here you are, acting ungrateful because you can’t fathom the way he cares for you.

Jungkook huffs. “___, that’s exactly it. You never need to ask when it comes to me. Whatever you want, I give. I fold. Tenfold. That’s the fucking cycle we’re in and I’m beginning to get sick of it.”

A silence falls upon you two. All you hear are the raindrops from the sky begin to splat on his window. For a moment, you get so lost in your thoughts, that your head begins to hurt. After a few more moments of silence, you realize it isn't your head.

It's your heart.

It feels like a knife has been stabbed into it—his and yours. All at once, it just aches. You both feel it. Your hearts grow tired and fragile.

Truly, it's ironic how the gentle silence is ruined by such brutal words. It's then when the knife, that was stabbed into both of your hearts, twists.

"What do we do now?"

"I think we need a break."

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #jk smut #jk angst #jk fluff #jungkook jealous #jk x yn #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts series #bts fic rec

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goddessofvalyria · 3 months ago

Text

BODYGUARD | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is the bodyguard of Miranda, the daughter of an important politician.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Miranda with long dark brown hair and eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (m and f) tits sucking/play, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, violence, guns, alcohol. Age gap (Aemond is in his early 30s, she in her early 20s) This is a modern Aemond in modern AU. Yes, Aemond's role is inspired by Rhys Larsen from "Twisted Games" book.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

Words: 8348

This is my Masterlist and you can read more about Aemond and all the Ewan's characters.

Read the one-shot under the cut!

Aemond Targaryen is a formidable presence, a man shaped by the trials of his past. Standing tall with a defined, muscular build, his long silver straight hair flows down his back, contrasting sharply with the dark patch covering his left eye—a constant reminder of the battle that took it. Once a member of the King's Land Army and a Navy Seal, Aemond’s bravery and strength are legendary. His remaining purple eye, intense and vigilant, surveys his surroundings with unwavering focus, always on guard.

Aemond now serves as the bodyguard to Miranda, the daughter of a prominent politician. She is a striking young woman in her early 20s, with curly dark brown hair that frames her face and dark, intelligent eyes that miss nothing. Studying law with aspirations of becoming an advocate, Miranda combines beauty with brains, knowing how to navigate the complexities of her world with both charm and cunning. She carries herself with a provocative confidence, aware of the power she holds and not afraid to use it to her advantage.

The grand hall is buzz with anticipation as the evening's political convention is underway. It is one of the most significant events of the year, a gathering of influential figures, powerful politicians, and their families. Miranda, dressed in an elegant black Versace gown, stand at the front of the room, listening intently as her father give an impassioned speech about the future of their nation. Her dark brown curls cascaded over her shoulders and her jewelry sparkles in the light.

Behind her, Aemond Targaryen stand like a shadow, his tall, imposing figure alert and unwavering. He is never far from her side, always vigilant, always ready. Despite his often grumpy demeanor, Aemond is a man of duty, and he take his role as her protector very seriously. But as he watch her, there is something more in his gaze—a quiet admiration that he kept locked away, hidden beneath the stern exterior of a bodyguard. His eye follow the line of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, the way she hold herself with grace and confidence. It is a dangerous line he walks, for he know he could never act on the feelings that simmer beneath his stern facade.

Miranda, on the other hand, is aware of Aemond's presence but often found him overbearing. She don't appreciate the way he loom over her, always close, always watching. His gruff personality and harsh tone often grate on her nerves, and she make no secret of her irritation. But she can't deny that he is exceptionally good at his job.

As her father continue to speak, Miranda shift her weight slightly, feeling the tension in the room. It os then that Aemond's keen instincts kick in. Something is off. His eye dart around the room, scanning faces, movements—anything out of the ordinary. And then he see it: a group of men, too focus, too deliberate in their movements, pushing through the crowd, their eyes locks on her father.

"Miranda," Aemond's voice is a low growl as he step closer to her. "We need to move. Now."

She turn to look at him, irritation flashing in her eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm listening to my dad—"

"Now" he repeat, more forcefully this time, his hand already reaching for her arm. There is no time to explain. No time to argue.

Before she can protest further, chaos erupt. Shouts fills the air, follow by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. The men drown weapons, aiming directly at her father on the stage. Aemond react instantly, pulling Miranda close and shielding her with his body as he begin to move them through the panicking crowd.

"Stay down!" he barks, his voice cutting through the screams as he push her toward the exit. Miranda's heart race, her breath coming in short gasps as the realization of what is happening hit her. Her father's life is in danger, and so is hers.

Aemond's grip on her is firm but not painful as he guide her through the chaos, his eye constantly scanning for threats. They reach the car outside, and with a forceful shove, he push her into the back seat, slamming the door behind her.

He jumps into the driver’s seat and start the engine in one smooth motion, the car roaring to life as he sped away from the convention center. Miranda glance back through the window, fear and worry etched on her face. She want to go back, to see if her father is safe, but Aemond's stern voice broke through her thoughts.

"He's got security. They’ll take care of him," Aemond says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly as he maneuver through the streets, driving fast but controlled. His focus is entirely on getting her to safety.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Miranda blurts out, her fear quickly turning to anger as adrenaline surges through her. “If you knew something was wrong, why didn’t you—”

"Because I don't have time to explain every damn thing to you," Aemond says, his voice harsh. "My job is to keep you alive, not to chat about it."

Miranda glares him, but the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. She looks down at her trembling hands, the gravity of the situation crashing over her.

After a few tense moments, she speaks again, softer this time. "Thank you... for saving me."

Aemond’s gaze softens slightly as he watches her in the rearview mirror. He gives a small nod, his voice hoarse but less harsh. “It’s my job.”

But as he returns his focus to the road, his thoughts betrayed him. It isn’t just duty that had drive him to act so fiercely. It is something deeper, something he can't allow himself to acknowledge.

Not now. Not ever.

Miranda leans back in the seat, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing. She don’t like him—didn’t like his attitude, his arrogance. But in that moment, she realize just how much she dependes on him, whether she want to or not. And that realization is almost as unsettling as the attack itself.

The car pull up to the large country house that Miranda and her family call home, the grand estate nestle away from the bustling city, surround by tall trees and high walls. As soon as they arrive, Aemond is out of the car, his sharp gaze scanning the perimeter before he opens the door for Miranda. She steps out, her heels clicking on the stone driveway as she walks briskly toward the entrance. Aemond is close behind, his presence like a shadow that refused to leave her side.

Inside, the country house is quiet, the usual staff absent at this late hour. Aemond quickly moves to activate the security systems, locking down the property. The tension in the air is palpable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. As soon as the last panel is secured, Miranda spans around to face him, her eyes blazing.

"Do you always have to be so damn controlling?" she snaps, her voice echoing through the spacious foyer. "I get that you have a job to do, but you treat me like I'm some kind of prisoner!"

Aemond’s jaw tightens, his frustration boiling over. "I'm doing what I have to do to keep you safe, Miranda. If you can't see that, then you're more naive than I thought."

"Naive?" she hisses, stepping closer, her finger jabbing at his chest. "You're the one who thinks he can just bark orders and expect everyone to fall in line! You don't get to control every aspect of my life!"

"I'm not trying to control your life, I'm trying to save it!" Aemond's voice is sharp, his patience wearing thin. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you waltz into dangerous situations, acting like nothing can touch you? You could’ve been killed tonight, Miranda! Do you even understand that?"

Miranda’s eyes flares with defiance, but beneath it, there is a flicker of fear. She hate feeling vulnerable, hate that Aemond had see that side of her. "You don’t get to talk to me like that. You work for my father, not for me. And I don’t need you treating me like a child who doesn’t know any better!"

Aemond steps closer, his tall frame towering over her, but he keep his voice on control, though the intensity in his eye is undeniable. "Maybe you do need someone to remind you what’s at stake. I’m not here to be your friend, Miranda. I’m here to keep you alive. If that means being harsh, then so be it."

Miranda clenches her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she glared up at him. "You’re impossible," she mutt, her voice lace with frustration. "You think you know everything, but you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to live under this constant pressure, to always have someone watching your every move."

Aemond’s expression softens for a brief moment, a flash of something almost vulnerable passing through his eye. "You’re right," he says quietly, his voice losing some of its edge. "I don’t know what that’s like. But I do know what it’s like to care about someone and not be able to protect them. I’m not going to let that happen again."

Miranda opens her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. She see the pain flicker in his eye, and for a moment, she is caught off guard. But the anger and frustration are still too raw, too overwhelming.

"Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to control everything, you’d realize that I don’t need saving," she says back, her voice cold. "I can take care of myself."

Aemond’s face hardens again, the vulnerability gone as quickly as it appears. "Fine" he said, his tone clips. "But until your father tells me otherwise, I’m not going anywhere."

Miranda turns on her heel, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and confusion. She doesn’t know why this discussion bothers her so much, but she needs space. Without another word, she storms up the grand staircase, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Aemond watches her go, his fists clenched at his sides. The discussion is having an impact on him, too, stirring up emotions he’s tried so hard to keep buried. But as much as he wants to follow her, to say something, anything, to make things right, he knows he can’t. Not now. Maybe never.

Miranda reach her room and slam the door behind her, leaning against it as she try to steady her breathing. Her mind is racing, the events of the evening replaying over and over. The attack, the fear, the way Aemond had protected her so fiercely. And then the argument, which had somehow seemed even more intense than the chaos of the convention.

She pushes off the door and walks into her bathroom, needing to do something—anything—to calm herself down. Turning on the shower, she strips off her dress and steps under the hot water, letting it wash away the tension that built up in her body. But even as the water cascade over her, she can’t stop thinking about Aemond.

Why did he have to be so infuriating? And why did she feels so…conflicted? She hate the way he treat her, hate his controlling nature. But there is something else there too—something she can’t quite put into words. The way he looks at her, the way he thrown himself into danger without hesitation, all to keep her safe.

Miranda closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool tile. She can’t afford to think about Aemond like that. Not when everything is so complicated, not when her father’s world is so dangerous. And certainly not when Aemond is just doing his job, no matter how much she wishes it was more than that.

Aemond sits on the edge of the couch downstairs, restless. His mind races despite the quiet of the country house, the events of the evening still fresh. He can’t shake the nagging feeling that something could go wrong, that danger might still be lurking. He exhales sharply and stands, deciding to check on the situation outside through the security system.

His eye scans the camera feeds, revealing the guard dogs patrolling the perimeter and a police patrol car stationed outside the gates. Everything appears secure. But his concern for Miranda persists. The argument had left him unsettled, the tension between them simmering beneath the surface. He knows she’s safe in her room, but something compels him to stay closer, just in case.

Aemond ascends the stairs, moving quietly toward Miranda's room. The light from the bathroom spills into the hallway, and he hears the steady flow of water from the shower. For a moment, he hesitates, listening, confirming to himself that she's okay. The anxiety that had been gnawing at him begins to ease, and he decides to head to the room that’s been set aside for him.

Inside, Aemond strips off his work clothes, feeling the weight of the evening settle into his bones. He pulls on a black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, his movements automatic, the routine familiar. But his mind is still on Miranda, replaying the look in her eyes during their argument, the fire and frustration that had blazed between them. He places his gun on the nightstand within easy reach, a habit born of years of training, before lying down on the bed. The country house is quiet, secure, and he convinces himself that she’ll go to sleep soon, and he should try to do the same.

Aemond is on the verge of sleep when he hears something. A faint noise, coming from downstairs. His body tenses instantly, and he’s out of bed in a heartbeat, grabbing his gun. The country house is supposed to be secure, but his instincts are honed from years in the field, and he knows better than to dismiss even the smallest sound.

“Miranda?” he calls out, his voice low but urgent as he steps into the hallway. There’s no answer. He repeats her name, louder this time, but the silence that follows only heightens his concern. His grip on the gun tightens as he moves down the stairs, the noise growing clearer as he approaches the kitchen.

When he rounds the corner, Aemond spots her. Miranda is standing by the fridge, her back to him, completely unaware of his presence. His relief is fleeting as his adrenaline-fueled mind still races with the possibilities.

“Miranda!” he barks, his voice sharp, laced with the tension he’s feeling.

She jumps, spinning around, and her eyes go wide when she sees the gun in his hands. “What the fuck, Aemond?” she yells, anger and shock mixing in her voice. “Are you seriously pointing a gun at me in my own house?”

Aemond lowers the gun immediately, the intensity in his eye still burning as he tries to rein in his panic. “I heard something. You didn’t answer when I called,” he snaps back, frustration and relief colliding. “I thought—”

“You thought what? That I can’t even get a glass of water without you storming in here like it’s a war zone?” she interrupts, her voice rising with each word. “This is my house, Aemond! I shouldn’t have to explain every little thing I do to you!”

“You don’t understand the risks!” Aemond retorts, his voice as sharp as hers. “I’m here to protect you, and that means I take everything seriously. If you’re moving around, I need to know!”

Miranda glares at him, her hands clenched at her sides. “You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is suffocating me! I can’t even breathe without you looming over me, telling me what to do!”

“I’m trying to keep you alive!” Aemond fires back, stepping closer, the space between them charged with the intensity of their argument. “You think I like having to be this way? You think I don’t know how it looks? But I’d rather you hate me than see you get hurt because I wasn’t careful enough!”

Miranda’s eyes flash with a mixture of anger and something else, something that makes Aemond’s heart pound in his chest. “You don’t get to make that choice for me, Aemond. I’m not a child, and I’m not your possession. You might be my bodyguard, but you don’t own me.”

The words hang between them, heavy and charged. Aemond’s breath comes faster, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. He knows she’s right, knows he’s crossed a line, but the fear of losing her, of failing in his duty—of failing her—makes it impossible to back down.

And then, in the heat of the moment, something snaps. Aemond steps forward, closing the distance between them, and before he can think better of it, he grabs her by the arm and pulls her toward him, pressing his lips to hers in a fierce, desperate kiss.

Miranda stiffens, shocked, her hands pushing against his chest. But then, for just a heartbeat, she hesitates, caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss, by the raw emotion behind it.

But reality crashes back in, and she shoves him away, her breath coming in sharp, angry bursts.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Aemond pulls back as if burned, the realization of what he’s done slamming into him like a freight train. He stares at her, his expression torn between regret and something deeper, something he’s fought to keep buried for so long. “I—” He starts to speak, but the words die in his throat. He knows there’s nothing he can say to justify what just happened.

Without another word, Aemond turns and walks away, the gun still in his hand as he heads back up the stairs, leaving Miranda standing alone in the kitchen, her lips tingling from the kiss, her mind reeling.

Back in his room, Aemond closes the door behind him and leans against it, his heart pounding in his chest. He’s crossed a line, a line he never should have even approached. But the taste of her still lingers, and he knows that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t forget it.

He places the gun back on the nightstand and collapses onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. He’s made a mistake—a mistake that could cost him everything. And as much as he wants to convince himself it was just a moment of weakness, deep down, he knows it was more than that.

Miranda stands in the middle of her room, her mind racing as she tries to process what just happened. The kitchen is quiet again, but her thoughts are anything but. She can still feel the pressure of Aemond’s lips against hers, the raw intensity of the kiss that had taken her completely by surprise. Her hand unconsciously drifts to her lips, tracing the spot where his mouth had been, still tingling from the contact.

She paces back and forth, trying to shake off the confusion and the strange mix of anger and longing swirling inside her. Aemond had no right to kiss her like that, she tells herself. But the truth is, she can’t deny the way her heart had raced, the way she had almost—almost—given in. She stops by the window, looking out at the darkened estate, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. Miranda bites her lip, trying to push the memory of his kiss out of her mind, but it lingers, stubborn and insistent.

Miranda slips under the covers, she still thinks about that kiss, those lips, those hands. She closes her eyes and takes off her shirt, remaining with her breasts bare, she slowly begins to touch herself with the thought of Aemond's lips on hers in her mind, pretending that it is he who is touching her.

She lowers her hands, teases her already hard nipples, leans against the pillows and arches her back, raises her hips and slips off her soaking thong. She slides two fingers inside her, she is hot, soaking wet, she begins to move her fingers, she moans, licking her lip. With the other hand she squeezes one of her breasts, she moans Aemond's name while she rides her own fingers, with her thumb she gives herself pleasure on her clit. It is not the first time she has done it, she is terribly ashamed of wanting it.

"Aemond" moans as she feels her pussy tighten around his wet fingers, she fingers herself and repeats his name over and over until she comes. God, how she wants to have him between her legs, how she wants to see his body on top of hers, see him subduing her and fucking her, opening her up on his hard cock. She is so excited that she finds herself fingering herself again, this time moaning louder, almost as if in defiance. She fingers fuck herself, her thumb ravages her clit and she comes a second time.

Exhausted, she falls asleep naked and frustrated, god she wants to fuck her bodyguard so much.

Aemond lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts a tangled mess. He’s furious with himself, ashamed of the way he lost control. The kiss was a mistake, he knows that, but it doesn’t stop him from reliving the moment over and over again. The softness of her lips, the brief but undeniable connection, the heat of the moment that had obliterated all rational thought.

Aemond finds himself in the same situation as Miranda.

He slides a hand into his boxers, then pulls them down, takes hold of his long erection and begins to slide the hand he spat on up and down. He wishes she were kneeling in front of him, he wishes he had her hands around his cock, he wishes he had her mouth. He closes his eyes, imagines her face, her lips, imagines her naked body: her full breasts, her narrow waist, her tight, hot, wet pussy. He wants to fuck her so bad, God.

"Miranda" Aemond moans her name, he feels close and comes into her hand, Miranda's name dying on his lips.

He runs a hand through his silver hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. He should have kept his distance, should have maintained his professionalism. But something about Miranda—the fire in her eyes, the way she challenged him—had gotten under his skin in a way he hadn’t expected. And now, all he can think about is how badly he wants to taste her again, how he’d give anything to feel her pressed against him, to lose himself in another kiss. But he knows it’s wrong, that he can’t let it happen again.

The following morning, Miranda and Aemond move around the country house as if on autopilot, careful to avoid each other. Breakfast is a tense, silent affair.

"My dad is safe, he texted me today in early morning. His bodyguard kept him safe, he is still at police central to talks about his aggression" are the only words she say before remain in silence again.

During the day they both focus on their own thoughts, neither willing to acknowledge what had happened the night before. Aemond busies himself with his duties, checking the security systems, communicating with the guards, all while keeping a deliberate distance from Miranda. She, in turn, throws herself into her work, studying for her law exams, trying to ignore the lingering tension between them.

But despite their best efforts, the memory of the kiss hangs between them like a shadow, coloring every interaction with an unspoken tension that neither of them can shake.

By the time night falls, the tension between them reaches again a boiling point. It starts with something small—Aemond insisting that Miranda stay in for the night, and Miranda pushing back, refusing to be told what to do in her own home.

“You’re not my warden, Aemond” she snaps, her voice laced with irritation as they stand in the hallway outside her room. “Stop trying to control everything I do.”

“I’m not trying to control you,” Aemond growls, his frustration spilling over. “I’m trying to keep you safe, but you’re too stubborn to see that!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so damn overbearing, I wouldn’t feel like a prisoner in my own home!” she retorts, stepping closer, her eyes blazing with anger.

Aemond clenches his fists, struggling to keep his temper in check. But her defiance, her refusal to listen—it’s driving him crazy. “You think I like this? You think I want to be here, arguing with you every night? You make everything harder than it has to be!”

"Your father is too loose with you!" she screams. "A girl like you should be treated a certain way and certainly not like a spoiled princess, damn it!"

Miranda scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Now I am a fucking spoiled princess?! You’re unbelievable, Aemond. You are—”

But before she can finish, Aemond closes the distance between them in two quick strides, his hands grabbing her by the shoulders as he pulls her into a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s rough, intense, a clash of tongues and teeth, all their pent-up frustration and desire spilling over in one explosive moment. Miranda resists for a heartbeat, her hands pushing against his chest, but then something inside her snaps, and she’s kissing him back just as fiercely, her fingers curling into his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss is messy, desperate, filled with all the things they’ve been trying to deny. Aemond’s hands roam her back, pulling her flush against him as his mouth devours hers, the taste of her like a drug he can’t get enough of. Miranda gasps into the kiss, her body arching against his, her own desire igniting in a way she hadn’t expected. It’s a battle for dominance, neither willing to give an inch, both needing to prove something to the other, to themselves.

Miranda moans into the kiss, gripping his shirt and feeling his hard erection press against her hips. When they finally break apart, they are both breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together, their bodies still tangled. Miranda’s lips are puffed out, her chest heaving as she stares at him, her dark eyes filled with a mix of anger, confusion, and something dangerously close to desire.

Aemond’s grip on her tightens, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. He wants her—God, he wants her more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he knows he’s crossing a line, a line that could cost him everything. “Miranda, I—” he starts, but the words fail him, the reality of what they’ve just done crashing down on him.

Miranda’s expression hardens, and she pushes him away, taking a step back. “Don’t” she says, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else, something she’s not ready to confront. “Just… don’t.”

Without another word, she turns and storms into her room, slamming the door behind her. Aemond stands there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, his mind a jumble of regret, frustration, and an undeniable need that he can’t seem to shake. He knows this can’t continue, that he needs to find a way to regain control—of himself, of the situation.

With a heavy sigh, he finally retreats to his own room, the taste of her still lingering on his lips, his thoughts consumed by the memory of her kiss. He lies down on the bed, but sleep is elusive, his mind replaying the night’s events over and over. He knows things have changed between them, and he has no idea how to fix it—or if he even wants to.

Miranda lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind too restless to let her sleep. The memory of Aemond’s kiss is like a wildfire in her thoughts, impossible to extinguish no matter how hard she tries. The anger, the frustration, and the undeniable heat between them replay in her mind, over and over again. Her body still hums with the energy of their earlier encounter, and the unresolved tension makes it impossible to settle down.

She throws off the covers, her body too warm, too wired to stay still. Wearing only a tight tank top and a black thong, she gets out of bed, her bare feet silent on the cool wooden floor. Without thinking, she finds herself walking down the hallway, the country house quiet around her, the only sound the soft rustle of her clothes as she moves. Her heart pounds in her chest, her thoughts drawn to Aemond, to the way he had kissed her—rough, desperate, like he couldn’t help himself.

Before she can second-guess herself, she’s standing in front of his door. The house is still, her breath loud in her ears as she raises her hand to knock. The sound echoes in the quiet hallway, and she holds her breath, waiting. It takes a moment, but then she hears movement on the other side, and the door swings open.

Aemond stands there, his expression a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense, as he takes in the sight of her. His eye roams over her body, lingering on the way the tight top clings to her curves, the strip of fabric at her hips leaving little to the imagination. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips, and the tension between them crackles in the air like electricity.

Miranda’s eyes meet his, her breath catching in her throat. She’s not sure what she’s doing, what she’s expecting, but the words tumble out before she can stop them, her voice low and almost challenging.

“Tell me how a girl like me should be treated.”

For a moment, Aemond just stares at her, his eye darkening with a mix of desire and restraint. His jaw clenches as he wrestles with his emotions, the question she’s asked pulling at something deep inside him. He’s silent, his breath coming in controlled, steady breaths, trying to maintain a grip on his resolve. But her presence, the challenge in her eyes, the way she’s looking at him—it’s unraveling him.

He steps back, his hand on the door, as if he’s about to close it, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he motions for her to come in, his voice low and rough.

“Miranda… you don’t know what you’re asking.”

She steps inside, the door closing softly behind her as she faces him, her eyes locked on his. “I know exactly what I’m asking,” she says, her voice firmer now, a mix of defiance and need. “Show me.”

Aemond’s control snaps. In one fluid motion, he steps forward, his hand sliding around the back of her neck as he pulls her close, his lips crashing into hers. The kiss is intense, fierce, even more so than before. It’s as if all the emotions they’ve been holding back—anger, desire, frustration—pour into this moment. His other hand finds her waist, fingers pressing into her skin, pulling her against him as if he can’t get her close enough.

Miranda responds with equal fervor, her hands fisting in his hair, pulling him down to her level as she meets his kiss with a hunger that surprises even her. His lips move against hers, demanding, tasting, devouring, and she gives in to the fire that’s been burning between them for far too long.

Aemond’s hand slides from her waist to her hip, fingers brushing against the bare skin just above the waistband of her thong. He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, his breathing ragged, his voice a rough whisper. “A girl like you deserves more than this… but damn it, I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t” Miranda breathes out, her lips brushing against his as she speaks. She knows she’s pushing him, pushing them both to the edge of something they might not come back from, but she doesn’t care. All she knows is that she needs this, needs him.

He groans low in his throat, a sound of surrender, before he captures her lips again in another bruising kiss. His hands roam over her body, feeling the softness of her curves, the warmth of her skin. He’s rough, his touches possessive, but she responds to it, her own need mirroring his.

The kiss deepens, becomes messier, more desperate, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. Aemond lifts her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he presses her back against the door. The cold wood contrasts with the heat of their bodies, a reminder of how out of control this is, but neither of them care.

Their movements become frantic, hands exploring, pulling, teasing. Aemond’s lips move to her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to her collarbone as Miranda gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders. The tension between them is like a live wire, snapping and sparking with every touch, every kiss, until it feels like they might both combust.

But then, as quickly as it started, Aemond pulls back, his breathing heavy, his eye dark with desire but also conflicted. “Miranda…” he murmurs, his forehead resting against hers as he struggles to regain control. “This isn’t… we shouldn’t…”

She looks up at him, her eyes wide, her lips swollen from the kiss, her body still thrumming with need. “I don’t care” she whispers, her hands still clutching at him, afraid that if she lets go, he’ll slip away. “I want this… I want you.”

The tension that had been simmering between them for so long finally erupts, consuming them both in a whirlwind of passion and need. There’s no hesitation now, no holding back—just the raw, unfiltered desire that has been building up for far too long.

Aemond takes her in his arms, holds her to the door, grazing her lips with two fingers. Miranda opens her lips and shamelessly sucks his fingers. He looks at her, slowly lowers his hand, moves her panties to the side and enters her with his fingers. She is so hot, tight, soaking wet. "You are so wet, princess" he whispers, kissing her while with his fingers he makes one of those little fingerings that make her melt on his own fingers. "You're so needy."

Miranda moans, clings to him with her strength and clings to his body. "I don't want to come, I don't want to yet" she whispers soaked in pleasure. "This is just the beginning, princess" he whispers.

Aemond grabs her in his arms and carries her to the bed. He makes her lie down on top, Miranda takes off her top and Aemond takes off her thong. Naked, trembling and aroused in front of him. She is reduced to a mess. She grabs him by the waistband of her pants, Aemond is on top of her.

"I heard you last night" he whispers kissing her under the ear. "You were touching yourself thinking about me, huh?" Aemond opens her legs, swelling between them. "Yes" she moans feeling his fingers teasing her clit again. "I was touching myself and thinking about you" she whispers feeling Aemond's thumb encircling her pearl.

"I imagined you were between my legs" her hand slides over Aemond's. "I wanted you to be there licking me, touching me" she slowly runs her fingers over her wet opening and enters herself. "Aemond" she whispers arching her back. "So, I kept going like this until I came on my fingers" she moans, Aemond feels hard and sore, in one move he takes off his tracksuit pants and boxers.

His erection is long, veiny, calm, its pink tip is beaded with pre-cum. "Let me show you how to treat a girl like you."

Aemond takes hold of himself, his cock slides over her opening, Miranda moans, he teases her clit and then turns her on more and more. His cock slides over and over between her wet folds. "Aemond..." she moans, shaking, until he brutally thrusts inside her. It's heavenly. Forbidden. Her pussy is tight, hot and wet, made for him.

"You're so tight" Aemond whispers, grabbing her in his arms. "You're so... wet, so... fuck" he begins to thrust into her, his thrusts are strong, hard, they take her breath away. Miranda moans, pushing her hips towards him. She's dreamed of this for so long, she just wants it to never end.

"My good girl" Aemond whispers fucking her. "What would your father say if he saw you like this" a devilish smile forms on his face. "His little princess getting opened by his bodyguard's cock" he gives her a hard push, she moans holding on to his shoulders. She buries her face in his neck, inhales his scent. Her bodyguard's cock inside her is so hard, long, she can feel it almost all the way to her stomach.

"I touched myself to thinking of you" he whispers twisting her nipples. "Aemond, fuck, Aemond, Aemond, Aemond" she whispers, her scent invades his senses. He feels her tighten, her legs tremble. Aemond brings his fingers to her pussy, surrounds her clit with his fingers and moves them in circular movements. "Cum for me all over my cock" he whispers.

"Cum for your bodyguard, princess" he touches her, she is excited, his cock pushes into her and she is held tight to him, panting. Aemond continues to fuck her while she comes, he feels her orgasm approaching and while she comes he pulls out coming between her thighs. Their skin is sweaty, Aemond kisses her breasts, collapses in her arms.

Later, as they lie together in the aftermath, the room is quiet, the only sound the soft, steady rhythm of their breathing. Miranda rests her head on Aemond’s chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns across his skin. The warmth of his body against hers is comforting, and for a moment, everything feels perfect—like nothing else in the world matters except for this moment.

As her fingers glide over his chest, she feels the raised, uneven texture of a scar. Her touch stills, and she lifts her head slightly to look at him, her gaze questioning but gentle. “What happened here?” she asks softly, her fingers tracing the line of the scar.

Aemond’s body tenses beneath her, his eye darkening with the weight of the memories that come flooding back. For a moment, he’s silent, the only sound his breathing as he grapples with whether or not to open up to her. But something about the way she’s looking at him—concerned, caring, vulnerable—makes him want to share the truth.

“When I was in the King’s Land Navy Seals,” he begins, his voice low, almost a whisper, “We were on a mission… deep in enemy territory. It was supposed to be a routine operation, but everything went wrong. We were ambushed. The enemy… they knew we were coming. My best friend—he was right there beside me. We’d been through everything together, always had each other’s backs. But that day…” His voice falters, and he takes a deep breath, the pain of the memory evident in his tone. “I failed him, Miranda. I couldn’t protect him. I tried, but… he didn’t make it.”

Miranda feels her heart ache at the pain in his voice, at the weight he’s been carrying alone for so long. She shifts slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest, right over the scar, as if her touch could somehow soothe the hurt he’s been holding onto. “Aemond…” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of understanding. “I’m so sorry.”

He closes his eye, trying to push down the guilt that has haunted him for years. “That’s why I’m so… overprotective with you” he admits. “I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t fail again.”

Miranda lifts her head to look at him, her eyes searching his. She can see the torment in his expression, the way he’s been carrying this burden alone, and it breaks her heart. “You won’t” she assures him, her voice firm but tender. “You haven’t failed me, Aemond. You’ve done everything you can to keep me safe. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re in this together.”

Aemond opens his eye to meet hers, the vulnerability in her gaze cutting through the walls he’s built around himself. For a moment, they just look at each other, the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding. Then, Miranda leans up and presses her lips to his, a soft, lingering kiss that’s more about comfort than passion. It’s her way of telling him that she’s here, that she sees him, scars and all, and that she’s not going anywhere.

When she pulls back, there’s a moment of quiet between them, the weight of their shared confessions settling into the space. Then Miranda speaks again, her voice a soft whisper. “No one must know about this—especially not my father.”

Aemond hesitates, his sense of duty warring with the desire to protect her secret, to keep this moment between them. He knows the risks, knows that if anyone found out, it could mean the end of everything—for both of them. But when he looks into her eyes, sees the trust she’s placing in him, he can’t bring himself to say no.

“Alright” he finally agrees, his voice steady but laced with a hint of reluctance. “I won’t tell anyone. This stays between us.”

Miranda nods, relief flooding her expression. She leans in to kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if sealing their pact with the touch of her lips. When they part, she settles back against his chest, her body molding to his as they find comfort in each other’s presence.

For a long time, they lie there in silence, wrapped up in the warmth of their shared connection. There’s still so much left unsaid, so many things they’ll need to face, but for now, in the quiet of the night, they find solace in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter what happens next, they’ll face it together.

Miranda lies against Aemond’s chest, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she looks up at him. The intimacy of the moment has dissolved some of the barriers between them, and her gaze softens as she meets his eye.

“Take off your eyepatch” she whispers, her voice gentle but insistent.

Aemond tenses for a moment, the request catching him off guard. His instinct is to refuse, to keep that part of himself hidden. But when he looks into her eyes, sees the genuine curiosity and care there, something in him shifts. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reaches up and pulls the patch away, revealing the scarred, empty socket beneath. Inside there is a blue sapphire.

Miranda doesn’t flinch or look away. Instead, she reaches up to touch the scar, her fingers light and tender against his skin. “You don’t have to hide from me” she says softly, her voice filled with understanding. "The scar on your handsome face is... kinda hot, sexy to me."

Aemond swallows hard, the vulnerability of the moment washing over him. For so long, he’s kept this part of himself hidden, afraid of what it represents, afraid of how others would react. But with Miranda, there’s no fear, no judgment—only acceptance.

The tenderness in her gaze pulls him in, and before he knows it, their lips meet again. This time, the kiss is slow, deep, filled with a sense of connection that goes beyond physical desire. It’s as if, in that moment, they’re baring their souls to each other, revealing the parts of themselves they’ve kept hidden from the world.

As their kisses grow more heated, the desire between them reignites, but now it’s mixed with something deeper—a need to be close, to hold on to each other in this shared vulnerability. They move together with a newfound sense of trust and passion, their bodies entwining as they lose themselves in each other once more.

"I need you inside me again, please" Miranda whispers, Aemond begins to kiss her with soft, tender, wet kisses. Slowly he traces the profile of her body, reaches her pussy and opens her legs, positioning himself between them.

"I want you, princess. You're so breathtaking"

His naked body is pure art: a toned and lean body, veiny arms as well as her hands and her v-line closes to his long, thick and erect dick for her. Her long silver hair is loose and he, as well as she, smells of sex.

Aemond touches her, she is still so sensitive, but slowly he pushes his fingers inside her, so tight and wet. Miranda moans and soon he buries his head between her thighs and devours her as if it were his last meal of her moans, her hands in Aemond's long silver hair. "Aemond...Aemond, Oh my fucking god!" she moans, arching her back, Aemond licks her clit, fills her with two fingers and then when he is about to come he gets up, lifts himself on the bed, kneeling in front of her, takes his manhood stroking himself a couple of times, bends over her, who feels his erection pressing between her thighs.

Aemond rubs himself against her, shortly after he opens her again on his cock and she, invaded again, moans, bringing a leg to his side. "I need..." she whispers. "Of you, of all this... God Aemond, don't stop" Aemond holds her in his arms, buries himself inside her again. "It's dangerous" he whispers on her lips. "But fuck, how much I want you" he caresses her lower lip, bites it, kisses it.

He brings his hands to her waist, continues to push into her until he feels her break in his hands. Aemond kisses her breast, takes a sensitive nipple between his lips, licks it and Miranda, feels close to orgasm again. "Cum for me princess" Aemond orders her. "Cum inside me, I want to feel you" she replies.

Aemond looks at her, Miranda is lost in the most dissolute pleasure. He continues to fuck her until he feels her come around his shaft and he lets himself go inside her, filling her. "Princess, my little princess treated like she deserve" he moans, he lets himself fall on her body again, Miranda hugs him breathing in his scent.

"God, what a man you are Aemond Targaryen."

Miranda clings to Aemond, hugs him and places small, sweet kisses on the scar on his face. "When…" she whispers, moving her hand to his silver hair. "When did you start looking at me differently?" she asks.

Aemond sighs, looks at their reflection in the mirror in front of the bed. They are a tangle, skin against skin, the sheets at their feet. Their naked bodies touching, God, she is so beautiful.

"A year ago" Aemond admits. Miranda bites her lower lip. "When I carried you away from that event, where the crowd had started to become oppressive and they broke through the security barriers when they saw you. I took you in my arms, you were so scared. I carried you away and in the car, when you were crying and you held me… something in me snapped" her voice is calm, gentle and different from his usual arrogance.

"It started a year ago for me too" she whispers. "Soon after that, I… I don't know, but the way you made me feel protected… it made me want more" she rises a little, brushes their lips and settles on his chest, on top of him, their legs entwined.

Miranda rests her face on Aemond's chest, listens to the beat of his heart. "I tried to provoke you, Aemond Targaryen" she admits with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Splashing in the pool, teasing you, wearing shorts and circling you, little jokes… but nothing has managed to dent you until… today" she smiles, gives him a kiss on the chest.

"I don't want to give you up" Aemond admits. "But I know my place" her sense of duty is infinite. "We'll keep it a secret and… when the time comes I'll tell my father. I'm his only daughter and since my mother passed away he just wants to see me happy. How could he not accept our relationship? You're the person who protects me and loves me the most in the world after him, Aemond."

Miranda's words are sincere, she knows her father well and knows how to trick him in her favor. "Please, trust me" Miranda takes his face in her hands and kisses him with a burning intensity.

"Aemond" she whisper. "I'm horny again" she kisses his skin, he shivers at the touch of her lips

"And now let's make love" she sits on him, her naked body is simply wonderful. Aemond moves her on his hips, Miranda closes her eyes and lets himself be penetrated by his cock, hard again. She moans, Aemond sits on the bed with her in his arms, riding him. "You're mine" Miranda whispers. "You're mine Aemond Targaryen" he holds her, Miranda kisses his neck.

The world outside fades away as they make love again, this time with an intimacy that’s as much about their hearts as it is about their bodies. Every touch, every kiss, is charged with emotion, a silent promise that they’re in this together, scars and all.

When they finally come back to themselves, they’re both breathless, spent, but there’s a new sense of peace between them.

Miranda rests her head on Aemond’s chest again, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her. He holds her close, his hand gently stroking her hair, and for the first time in a long while, they both feel a sense of completeness, as if they’ve finally found what they’ve been searching for in each other.

She was his and he was hers, her bodyguard.

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

Text

Adult Education Part 18 | Hangman x OC

Summary: It's hard for Jake to come to terms with the fact that Jessica thinks he's good enough for her. He doesn't want to doubt himself, but changing your habits is hard. Jessica feels like she's inching closer to getting tenure before Brian returns, and she allows herself a break from work to celebrate her boyfriend's birthday.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, language, mention drinking and driving, 18+

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake opened his eyes and groaned softly, snapping them closed again to shut out the warm sunlight on his face.

"Good morning." The softly whispered greeting and the gentle fingers in his hair told him he made it to Jessica's place before he passed out. And now he had a hangover. He lost control of himself last night at the bar, and he drove himself to his girlfriend's place and went to sleep like some sort of asshole.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, trying to swallow against his dry mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Jake felt her lips on his forehead, and he melted at the sweetness of it. He'd been terrible last night. Not at all the kind of man she deserved. "Do you want me to try to make you breakfast?" she asked, her lips skimming his ear.

"No. I want you to stay right here with me."

"Okay," she replied with a little laugh, and she let Jake hold onto her, tucking her head under his chin. Losing this now would be the worst thing that ever happened to him. "Did you have fun last night?"

He swallowed again. "I knew you were busy, and I didn't even mean to bother you."

The way she touched him was almost too much to handle. Her fingers were teasing along the shell of his ear as she played with his hair. "I'm not too busy for you."

Jake opened his eyes again to see Jessica looking up at him. She was actually perfect, and it hurt him to say, "There were some girls at the bar last night when I was with Bradshaw."

The puckered wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows sent him into an immediate panic. "Oh." She started to pull away from him, but he couldn't let her.

"Jessica." His voice was just a harsh whisper. "No. Not that." She froze up in his arms as he said, "I just... I've never turned women down before." He felt absolutely disgusting admitting that out loud to her, but he had to. He kind of even needed to hear himself say it. "Last night was the first time. Because of you. Because of us."

Her posture softened incrementally as she asked, "What happened?"

It was more the way he felt about everything. "Nothing really happened," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Just me feeling like I'm not good enough for you. And then I drank too much."

She was quiet for a moment, and he braced himself for her judgement. Surely if he could see he wasn't good enough for her, then it must be glaringly obvious to Jessica too. But her fingers made their way back up into his hair. "I take it they flirted with you and Bradley? Tried to get you to buy them drinks? Touched you?"

"Yeah," he grunted. "Wanted us to teach them how to play pool. I had to aggressively tell them no. Then I sat at the bar with Penny after Bradley left to pick up his wife. I drank a little too much and then called you."

Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in closer again. "Are you sure you don't want breakfast?"

He was completely taken aback. Jessica's fingers skimmed the hair at the back of his neck as she kissed his nose and cheek. "You're not upset? That I literally floundered over how to say no to someone? That I didn't even know how?"

She shook her head slightly. "Why would I be upset? You're handsome and funny. You're going to get hit on. Girls are going to flirt with you and touch you. Are you going to cheat on me?"

"No!" That was the easiest question he'd ever answered. Last night caught him off guard and threw him for a loop, but that was never a question at all. "Of course not."

"Okay, then," she whispered. "I think I understand how you used to be with women, and I'm not upset about it. I don't think you'd be as good of a boyfriend as you are if you weren't serious about me."

"I'm serious," he told her, tangling his fingers in her long hair. "I am."

She grinned and closed her eyes, before her smile faded a bit. "You didn't judge me when I told you about Brian."

Jake ground his molars together. "Because absolutely none of that was your fault, Baby."

"Well, you didn't do anything wrong either." But then she froze, eyes fixed on his face. "Wait. Did you drive yourself here last night?"

He swallowed hard. "I did."

"Jake!" she gasped, panic in her voice. "What were you thinking?!"

Jessica rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist with her hands on his chest, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. He rubbed her arms as he said, "I sat at the bar and tried to sober up first, but I needed you."

She actually sobbed. "Don't do that ever again! You could get hurt. Or hurt someone else. You could have called me for a ride." Tears fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks, and it hit Jake right in the jugular that she was more upset about this than anything else.

"Come here," he whispered, collecting her against his body. "I'm so sorry, Jess. I'll call you next time. Or I'll get a ride. I was so caught off guard without you around, I couldn't even think straight."

Her lips found his neck as she said, "Well next weekend is your birthday, so I'll be at your fancy Navy bar with you then."

"That'll be perfect."

She laughed softly. "But I'm used to the literal dive bar that is Chippy's, so I might not fit in."

"You will. And Penny has Sam Adams."

With another kiss to his neck, she sat up on him and wiped her eyes. "Breakfast?"

-----------------------------

Jessica wasn't oblivious to the signs. She knew Jake must have been a bit of a playboy before. It seemed like maybe she was the first girlfriend he was serious about. And she was okay with that. Very okay with that. If he was trying to get his footing under him, then that meant he wanted this to last.

He stumbled into her kitchen, half dressed with his hair sticking up everywhere and Jessica in his arms. "I'll make breakfast. You might never have to cook again."

"Oh, I love the sound of that," she giggled as he looked in her refrigerator with one arm wrapped around her waist.

"Okay, you really need to go grocery shopping, Jess."

"What's the point? You've been spoiling me nonstop."

He just grunted, but he had a smile on his face, and a few minutes later, she was eating an omelette. Between bites, she asked, "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Nothing," he replied, taking a bite of his own breakfast.

She smirked. "Maybe a quiet night in together?"

"I want that every day, Baby," he said as he inhaled the rest of his food. "Not just for my birthday."

If he really didn't want anything, she hoped he wouldn't be annoyed that she got him something. She had it all wrapped and ready to go by the middle of the week.

On Wednesday morning, she was standing at the front of her largest lecture, organizing her notes, when she saw Dr. Rosenthal bustle in. He looked tired, and once again Jessica felt bad that there would be no way to really repay him for everything he was doing for her.

She hopes this would be the lecture that really wowed him. She'd been teaching these topics since she was a grad student, and she was damn good at it. He was still getting his notebook ready when she was about to call everyone to attention, and that's when she heard it. Skateboard wheels on the industrial tile floor. Luca skated in through the lecture hall doors, and then he popped his board up into the air. It looked like he was still in his pajamas, and Jessica wanted to die from the look of disgust on Dr. Rosenthal's face.

"Luca," Jessica said, shooting him a pleading look.

"Hey, Dr. Reed," he greeted. "Surf's looking good today, but here I am!"

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Maybe trying to relate to her students and find common ground with them during her office house wasn't the way to go after all. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Rosenthal was shuffling some papers around; he had all of her notes, including those regarding which students were passing and which ones were failing. He would see Luca's low grade any second now, and she hoped this wouldn't hurt her.

But Luca's grade was slowly but surely coming up in this class, and Jessica was actually really proud of all the work and effort he was putting in. And she immediately resigned herself to the fact that it would be more important for one of her students to be comfortable and confident enough in her class to get a passing grade than it would be for her to get tenure. Luca brought up a few wrinkled pages and handed them to her with a smile before taking his seat next to his skateboard. It was all of the extra practice problems she gave him during her office hours last night. He'd finished all of them in less than a day, and they looked to be correct at first glance.

She nodded at him, set them aside and collected herself. She made a few announcements and ensured that everyone's attention was focused on her, and then she started teaching. Even though she knew Rosenthal was there, she tried not to look at him. Surprisingly, when she asked if anyone could answer one of the problems she wrote out on the board, Luca raised his hand.

When Jessica called on him, he said, "I think it's like.... 200 meters per second?"

"Yes!" she replied, kind of surprised but very pleased. "Nice work, Luca." And honestly, that's why she was here. Even though she had to teach Brian's class which was outside of her wheelhouse later this afternoon, she would get more practice problems ready for Luca as well.

At lunchtime, Jessica decided to stop by and see if her friend was around. They wouldn't be able to talk much about the tenure review, but at least maybe they could eat together. Besides, her office was bigger and nicer, and the math hallways were quiet at this time of day.

Jessica could hear her friend's soft laughter before she saw her, and when her office door came into view, she was standing there with her husband. "I don't want to go back to work," he told her with a smirk on his lips and his big hand on her butt. "I want to stay for round two. Maybe sit in one of your lectures and be your top student." When she tried to sneak away unnoticed, Bradley called out, "Hey, Jess." His wife spun around with a smile, but he kept his hands all over her.

"Hi! Did you stop by for lunch?"

"Yeah," Jessica replied, and she was sure her cheeks were flushed. "But you look busy."

Bradley kissed the side of his wife's neck and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go wide, and then he was walking away as he told her, "I love you." He winked at Jessica and said, "I was just leaving. Have a nice afternoon."

Jessica held her little lunch container from Jake and examined her friend's dreamy expression. This wasn't the first time she felt like she was interrupting them, and she wondered how often Bradley actually stopped by for a few minutes at lunchtime. And then she felt her cheeks grow warmer. "Sorry I'm interrupting... again."

Her friend laughed. "You're not. He interrupted my lunch."

"Yeah," Jessica whispered. "But he brought you dessert."

Both of them were laughing hysterically as Jessica followed her into her office.

--------------------------

Jake knew Jessica was busy, but he always felt better when he was with her. He'd been avoiding her office hours so she had time to keep tabs on the new students she'd absorbed from Brian's class, but that also meant he didn't get to have a mid week sleepover. On Friday night, he caved and called her when she was probably on her way home from campus. Tomorrow was his birthday, and he'd been hoping to have her sleepover, but he wasn't about to invade her schedule at the moment. He stripped off his undershirt and collapsed on his bed as the phone rang and rang.

"Jake!" she gushed when she answered. Even the sound of her voice made him a little dizzy. "How's the birthday boy?"

He chuckled. "That's not until tomorrow."

"I know," she said, "but it's really a celebration all weekend long, right?"

"If you say so, Baby."

"I do say so," she replied. "I'm just getting in my car now."

He hummed as he thought about her in one of her little skirts and sweater sets and high heels, and almost instantly his cock responded. "You're getting in your car?" he repeated, picturing her sliding across the soft leather interior.

His hand slipped inside his black briefs without him even thinking about what he was doing. It had been more than five days since he'd fucked his girlfriend, and he was starting to ache. He had no idea how he'd ever be able to handle a deployment now as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Yeah, but there's a road closed, so it's probably going to take me forever," she mused as he heard the engine start up.

Jake grunted. "Just as long as you get home safe, Baby. You want to tell me about your day?"

"It was so good!" She sounded really upbeat and excited, and Jake tried to listen to every detail with his hand just sitting there, but it was impossible. Her voice was too sweet. She was the only one he ever wanted. He started stroking himself when she said, "I was thinking about you all afternoon. I taught the same problem that you answered correctly in my back to school mini lecture. You know... the night we met."

He moaned. "Best night of my fucking life." He pulled himself free of the elastic and stroked himself slowly as he said, "Imagine, a hottie with a PhD offering to buy me a three dollar beer."

She giggled which left him groaning. Then the line went quiet. "Are you... what are you.... it sounds like you're touching yourself?"

"I am," he replied. "I just started. Your voice is too sweet, Jessica."

"Oh," she sighed. "Guess what I'm wearing."

"Fuck. You're making it worse," he complained playfully. "Are you in one of those little skirts?"

"You know, I think I might be."

"And high heels?"

"Always."

"And one of those soft little sweaters?" he moaned.

"Yes, my green one."

That one was his favorite. It was the same shade of green as that lingerie set he loved. He was a mess, looking down at his cock, unsure whether he wanted to rub this out quickly or make it last. "I wish you were coming over tonight, but I know you're busy as hell."

"Jake, of course I'm coming over. I'm already most of the way there. Don't you want me to?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Jessica. I need you. Yes, I want you to come over."

She laughed and asked, "Are you going to keep touching yourself until I get there?"

He took a few deep breaths. "If I do that, then I won't be any fun when you get here and I only last three minutes."

"Maybe that's true... but I'm sure you can muster up what's needed for round two. Right?"

"For you? Absolutely," he promised as he eased his hand up and down his length.

"I'll be there in five," Jessica said before ending the call, and Jake stood and tried to walk around his condo. His dick was rock hard, and he occasionally stroked himself to relieve some of the need, but he wanted to wait for his girl.

"Damn," he groaned through gritted teeth. He hung out of the top of his underwear and bounced with every step he took. Then he finally heard the knock on his door. He opened it without even checking to make sure it was her, and Jessica gasped when she saw him.

"Hi," she said as her wide eyes and parted lips gave way to a little smirk. She was wearing the little outfit he'd been able to picture just perfectly, and her hair hung around her face in soft waves. "Want me to take care of that for you, birthday boy?"

"If you wouldn't mind," he replied, closing the door behind her, and much to his delight, she tossed her bag aside and dropped right to her knees. His cock was inside her warm, wet mouth immediately, and he was being treated to the luxury of her tongue drawing lazy circles along his length. "Jessica."

She hummed as she took him deep and started to suck, and he knew it was absolutely a lost cause. He just smoothed his hand along her hair before taking a fistful at the back of her head and let himself enjoy this. He grunted softly at the perfect feel of her as she bobbed along, looking up at him with crooked glasses.

"Fuck." He came as soon as her fingers grazed his balls, and he watched her sputter and swallow all of him down. Her movements started to slow, and he was almost twitching from overstimulation when she finally withdrew him with a little pat on his hip.

She was smiling up at him as he released her hair. "Shit, Jessica. What was I thinking? You shouldn't have been walking around alone after dark, Baby."

She kissed his thigh, and then he started to pull her to her feet. "It's not that dark out yet, and besides, a very nice man with a knife walked me inside from the parking lot." When his eyes went wide, she cupped his cheek and said, "I'm only kidding."

He groaned and kissed her, tasting his cum in her mouth which just made him feel even more protective. In a lot of ways, he was still getting used to being in a relationship, but he really didn't want to fuck this up. "Next time, even if it isn't quite dark yet, I will come down and walk you inside."

"Even if you have an erection?" she asked, snuggling up in his arms.

"Especially if I have an erection. It'll scare off the guys with knives," he whispered, making her laugh. The words were right there. They were always right there. He realized it after the fact that he almost told the girls at the bar last weekend that he was in love with his girlfriend. He kissed her forehead and said, "I wasn't sure if you were coming, so I only have leftovers."

Jessica moaned. "Jake Seresin leftovers are still peak gourmet, and I'm starving."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen and set her down on the counter before he tucked himself back in his underwear. She was all smiles as he opened the refrigerator and started naming what he had in there. "Surprise me," she whispered, and he started heating up a huge bowl of chili to share with her.

When he pulled out two forks, he kissed her cheek and said, "Why don't you tell me all about your week? And then I'll take you to bed."

----------------------------

Jessica thought about saving his present for later, but right at midnight, she kissed him and whispered, "Happy birthday." He smiled even though his eyes were closed where he lay on the pillow next to her, completely sated. He'd done a fine job of unwrapping her, kissing every inch of her legs before removing her skirt. Tasting her everywhere while she modeled her green lingerie for him. Fucking her nice and slow until she was practically begging for more.

When she started to climb out of bed, he reached for her hand. "Where you going?" His voice was raspy and sounded a little tired.

"To get your birthday present."

"I only wanted you," he replied, and she just looked at him and wondered how he could be so sweet. She loved the way he really seemed to care what she was doing and wanted to be involved. He'd been sweet through the fraternity fundraiser and even through everything with Brian. Honestly, the little wrapped box inside her overnight bag didn't contain much, but she hoped it would convey how she felt.

"Well you got me and something else, too," she whispered, kissing his hand before slipping out of bed. She could feel his eyes on her naked body as she rooted around for the gift, and then she returned with it. She handed it to him and slipped back in bed next to him. "You can open it now since it's officially your birthday."

He just looked at the black and green striped wrapping paper for a few seconds, and then he set it down and turned toward her. Jake kissed her with so much feeling, it knocked her breath out of her lungs. "Thank you," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as he stroked her cheek with his rough thumb. "I can't even remember the last time I got an actual birthday gift. Even my mom and dad just send me a gift card every year."

She kissed him this time before she said, "Well maybe you should lower your expectations a little bit." But he just shook his head as he picked up the box and started to unwrap it.

"Jessica," he whispered when he held the framed print of a Super Hornet in one hand. "This is so cool."

She smiled as he examined it closely, taking in all of the hand drawn lines and detailed markups. "It's kind of like the top secret F/A-18 schematics that you let me look at."

He turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Baby, I stole those for you."

She could feel her cheeks heat up as she buried her face in his neck. "I know," she whispered. "And I thought this would always remind you of me."

He gently set the frame down on his nightstand and pulled her on top of him. "Everything reminds me of you. And I think about you all the time."

But she still felt embarrassed for no reason even though she was basking in his words. She kissed his neck softly and reached up to run her fingers through his hair as she whispered, "Same, birthday boy."

She was starting to doze off when he said, "In the morning, will you help me decide where to hang my gift?"

"Of course."

"And we can make waffles again? And if you're a good girl, I'll eat your pussy again."

She giggled. "If that's what you want for your birthday breakfast, then sure."

He let his hand trail down her back to squeeze her butt. "That's absolutely what I want for breakfast. A real culinary treat." She rolled her eyes, but he didn't seem to be kidding. "And then tomorrow night, I'll take you to the bar and show you off to all my friends."

"And you'll buy me a Sam Adams while I cheat on Chippy."

Jake barked out a laugh. "What Chippy doesn't know won't hurt him, Baby."

-------------------------

The birthday boy better buy her all the Sam Adams she wants. And I just know for a fact Chippy will be able to tell she went to another bar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

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getsuuna · 3 months ago

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I can't stress enough how this Fandom can be fxcking stupid so I'll take advantage of it to make a brief analysis

TikTok is back at it with being extremely gullible

people seriously believe this is Koyoharu Gotōge's official account. a quick glance would debunk it immediately, but if we wanna look into details there are mainly 3 things that are really obvious and they all piss me off SO bad:

1) they posted fanart. literal fanart, without consent, of course, and without any credits, badly cropped and filtered too. I couldn't see signatures in most of them, but I recognized some art styles and overall it's easy to spot non-official art when you also follow Ufotable's official account. from which, by the way, this fake account takes all of the content they post, then they write a silly and pseudo-cool caption and that's literally it. what's the point? one of the captions said something that quite fucking literally made me want to scream, joking about Shinobu possibly being Tengen's 4th wife because there was a pic in which their VAs were standing close....what. Gotōge would never say that???

2) they reply to fans, which isn't bad per se but let's be SO fr...and it's not even the worst part.

3) said replies include misinformation. saw them saying Masachika would be reincarnated as Sanemi's son or stepson (what the fuck) AND that Sanemi and Kanae would've been canon if Kanae didn't die, which, I'm sorry, is the fakest fucking thing I've ever read despite being a common misbelief.

I don't want to digress too much into this but imagine you're an author, you have the power over your characters and you decide to add a couple that will be doomed inevitably...you would make it canon, if it was supposed to be. you would AT LEAST make said crush remotely relevant in AT LEAST one of the two characters' arc...which it isn't. in ANY of the canon universes. the Academy is right there, the Timeskip is right there, both had Kanae alive and both don't make SaneKana canon, not even remotely. HEAVY ON THE TIMESKIP in which ObaMitsu are married, but they're canon in all the verses...Mitsuri had an actual impact on Obanai's character and even when there's silly trivia about him in databooks or even in the manga it always somehow involves Mitsuri, something that we did NOT see with Sanemi and Kanae.

now, as much as I would talk *endlessly* about this, I don't want to sound hateful to shippers, but it pisses me off that a Gotōge-wannabe is reinforcing the toxic shippers' delusions.

I would've lost my shit even if they said the same thing about my fav fanon ships, because it's FAKE.

if the author wanted them canon, they would be. there's no "if" nor "but", there was no excuse.

they clearly and luckily wanted to leave it to open interpretation

as an OC creator if I want a couple canon I simply write them in a way in which would make them canon in at least one AU 😭🙏🏻 tf

this being said please don't fall for such weird ass stuff 💔

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny analysis #kny ships #鬼滅の刃 #fake accounts #kny misinformation #koyoharu gotouge #i hate tiktok #kny fandom #sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi

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carlyraejepsans · 5 months ago

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UTY!Flowey, "lore" and how to criticize a fan prequel without being an insufferable pedantic, a guide by Biscia.

(for my muskless fellows, here's a transcript of my thread on Undertale Yellow that I posted on Twitter. enjoy!)

There's this really frustrating attitude in fan spaces i like to call "lorepilling" where people are substantially more concerned with encyclopedic knowledge of details & minutiae (so called "lore") in place of full-text thematic/narrative analysis as if the two are mutually interchangeable.

It's especially common in large franchises and story heavy videogames, and it's like... Are You Treating This Piece Of Art Like A Trivia Battle Or Are You Treating It Like A Story

This is coming from a person who is also deeply autistic about UTDR trivia btw, I'm just saying that when it comes to transformative *stories*, depending on the impact it has on character, themes, and narrative structure... lore is expendable.

Ultimately this is why most of the UTY criticism i see (on twitter specifically) falls flat. What does it matter if "lore" means Flowey couldn't chronologically be there when the justice human fell, as long as the game narratively justified his presence in the story in a compelling way?

The real criticism, in the end, is that it didn't.

He's a plot central, main cast character from the canon returning in a cast of mostly OCs and what does he have to show for it? An admittedly sick boss battle in 1/3 endings, sure but... not much else. He has no significant "presence" in the story, no tie, interaction, or even just... an opinion on the rest of the cast. Which is a huge miss when Flowey's meta role is to be Thee completionist player mirror. He's the OG lorepilled UT fan! He's an opinionated little shit!

This isn't to say that UTY *didn't* engage w/ his metanarrative. When me and @a-town-called-hometown first started playing the game (we were both skeptical of Flowey's inclusion), he immediately said "It would be really cool if they made it so this has been going on for a while and Clover has no idea". Which is precisely what the game did in the neutral ending, and what I will openly say was the most well written & well executed part of this game's story...

...a part we almost didn't see, because the pacifist ending disappointed us so much we lost all will to replay.

To put it in the words of my friend Mel @clowwwnbytes, there's a deafening hollowness to UTY Flowey's motivations & core principles where his guilt towards Chara—and resulting black and white thinking—should be. You're telling me Mr Kill-or-be-killed, "sacrificing yourself to do the right thing is stupid", would stand there after 1000s of failed attempts to make Clover survive, look on as they make the same mistake Asriel he did, and fondly call them friend? Cue the guitar, roll the credits?

He would lose it. Oh my god he would lose his goddamn mind, he would throw the nastiest temper tantrum in the world. Are you serious? How dare you. How DARE you. All this effort, all my patience, and you just let yourself DIE for a few worthless idiots? I should've let you ROT!

*clears throat* sorry got a bit too into character. as i was saying.

I can understand a UT prequel wanting to distance itself from the canon Chara storyline in order to form its own identity, but then turning around and choosing Insane About Chara The Character™ for a sidekick is... far from optimal. In the end, Flowey comes across as underutilized and inconsistent, with a whole lot of wasted potential.

This is an issue I have with UTY's character writing (original AND returning) and story structure as a whole. Lots of inconsistent character arcs, tonal dissonance, overuse of situational sadness... it's an amateurish work, after all, and you can feel it. There's no shame in that.

(Though, there ARE some issues that i take more seriously with its writing, especially when it comes to its two main female characters—Ceroba's lack of narrative agency and depth borders on misogynistic writing imo. But that's a topic for another day)

Over all, UTY was an incredible piece of collaborative transformative work, with gorgeous art and a genuinely incredible OST, which... would have benefited from more experienced writers. But hey, you can only ever learn by trying!

For all it could've been a better story, it certainly did not fail to entertain: both when my friend was playing it, and after in our many discussions of its writing, its faults and how it could've been improved (royal scientist!ceroba character fix you will always be famous. to ME!)

I'm sure this project served as an incredible source of experience for the developers: as individual creators AND as a team. I look forward to their future projects!

but also if i have to see another person say UTY is better than Undertale i might turn into The Jonker.

end of the essay! really couldn't stand any of the pedantic ""criticism"" I'd seen of this fangame so far, so i had to say my piece as someone more versed in analysis. happy to elaborate on anything in the replies or in my inbox!

#undertale #undertale yellow #uty #flowey #mywriting #metanalysis

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andcars · 3 months ago

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★ 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦 daniel ricciardo x f!reader

SUMMARY . . . # during the summer break , you and daniel decide to make it official . what better way than for both you and him to feature on each other's tracks ? daniel plays as the drummer and you are invited to an f1 race.

TAGS . . . # female reader , reader is part of a band , established relationship , softlaunching , slight suggestive content , the band is based of pre-existing ocs FIC STYLE. . . # social media (instagram + tiktok)

thehitbandofficial

liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 154 others

We're getting the band back together!!

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thb_01 NEW ALBUM DROP??

olli4.jpg eating this shit up

lijahl4ves63 been bored as an f1 fan at least i can get content elsewhere

under_hitt FUCK YEAH!! LET'S GO

ynsfavetoe YN about to drop another hit we love herr

ric3.kiki wait danny ric is a fan of the hit band ??

ub4nforthis WAIT SERIOUSLY!? I DON'T FOLLOW HIM

dannyricxpodium @ ric3.kiki he's just like me

ollieq._x So... About the drummer 🤔

ynyn_unofficial he's finee don't worry about him

ollieq._x Uh huh...

ols_thb why they speaking like that what happened to penn ??

XOXloserclub didn't penny say she's taking a break?

lightsoutt33 @ ynyn_unofficial WHO'S "HE", PENNY USES SHE/HER?!?!

ynyn_unofficial i'm ready to go again

penn4pennies EWWW

ynyn_unofficial I SAID NOTHING WRONG??

penn4pennies That no one but us knows 🙄

visacashapprb ✔ Hang on in there everyone 💙 #Daniel Ricciardo #VCARB

racer4hire WE LOVE YOU DANNY RIC!!

georgiepig give us some more daniel content is the real challenge

danielsshoe3 what's he refering to when he says challenging

graveyardx_x maybe he finally took up riding a jetski like he claimed all those years ago

LanaDRIV3 Yea he probably doesn't struggle doing that

ynyn_tikkitok danny ric ric

cashedouthit YOU'RE AN F1 FAN TOO??

ynyn_tikkitok ki ki ki

visacashapprb Aye Aye Aye! 🤣🤣

georgiepig i cannot tell if that's an intern or daniel himself @ themiddleway

ynyn_unofficial

liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 564 others

'LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY' is out now! Watch the MV and the Behind-The-Scenes on the official Youtube channel 😘😘

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XOXloserclub WAS THAT DANIEL FUCKING RICCIARDO ON THE DRUMS?!?!

under_hitt WHAT!? I DIDN'T SEE HIM IN THE MV

XOXloserclub HE'S IN THE BEHIND THE SCENES... I THINK HE PLAYED INSTEAD OF PENNY

lijahl4ves63 @ XOXloserclub two of my favourite things collabing is crazy 😭

ynsfavetoe what the fuck is a formula 1

under_hitt YN DOESN'T USUALLY WRITE LOVE SONGS... WHAT THE FUCK WAS 'down boy' THEN!?

ub4nforthis NOO MOTHER PLS DO NOT BE TAKEN

ric3.kiki maybe its the f1 brainrot but the amt of racing/formula 1 references in this album... crazy

dannyricxpodium right like what the fuck is 'can't leave me baby i'm no rosberg to your hamilton' it's so ON THE NOSE

penn4pennies My recovery will be fast 👍can't let anyone take my seat

ynyn_unofficial chill . no one is taking your sticks away

danielricciardo It was so fun filming with you guys 😁😊👊Hope to see you again 😉

rodethewaves4hits WHAT DOES THAT MEAN..?

penn4pennies Respectfully, sir. I hope you don't touch my drums again. Take Ols' guitar next time.

ollieq._x You're just bitter that YN was nicest to him lmaoo

ynphotographed

1,227 likes

YN LN was spotted in the Dutch '24 GP in front and inside the Visa CashApp RB Garage!

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ub4nforthis NO WAY.

ub4nforthis wait okay not that unexpected daniel and yn are apparently friends

lijahl4ves63 the friendship came out of nowhere but honestly go off <333

XOXloserclub I KNOW MY GIRL IS A REAL F1 FAN!!! SHE'S NO FAKER

lightsoutt33 guys theyre so cute tgt 🥺🥺😭 i saw a clip of yn in the garage talking with daniel

schecorat omg wait link?

lightsoutt33 I'LL TAG YOU

ols_thb I SAW THE VID THE WAY DANIEL IS LAUGHING AND SMILING AT EVERYTHING YN IS SAYING

goattifi Kinda weird to say... Daniel's a pretty happy guy overall

ric3.kiki she's the only celebrity i accept on the paddock

kickedatp5 she's barely a celebrity IN A WAY THAT SHE'S KINDA UNDERRATED

theshoeyshoe i didn't actually know about the hit band earlier but their music... kinda fire

under_hitt @ theshoeyshoe congratulations you are now part of the beaters

theshoeyshoe What did you just call me..?

gentlemanlyinyn IT'S THEIR FANDOM NAME I'M SORRY IT WAS A JOKE AT FIRST BUT IT STUCK AROUND

ynyn_unofficial

liked by @ thehitbandofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 3,523 others

Wherever you end up in, I think you're going straight to my heart

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thehitbandofficial can't wait for another hit song from this duo <3

ynyn_unofficial stfu jay . also , did u lose your main pw or something?

thehitbandofficial ...no

ynyn_unofficial i'll text it to u

penn4pennies @ thehitbandofficial Is that why you never responded to the memes I've been sending you? Bad.

ollieq._x Crazy how I never asked to hear about this 🤔

penn4pennies I think they would be cute if I was blind and deaf.

ynyn_unofficial you guys remember the fifth member..? yeah , no one does anymore .

danielricciardo I'm sure you can scare them more than that, baby!

thehitbandofficial @ danielricciardo alr fuck off with that mate 😭

ollieq._x @ thehitbandofficial Lmao

penn4pennies So... him back on the drums would be unprofessional, right?

ynyn_unofficial ugh

danielricciardo If I could, I would post you on my instagram too! ♥😚

ynyn_unofficial what's stopping you?

danielricciardo PR would have me for the ungodly paragraphs I would say about you in the caption! 😢🙌 I would profess my love to you all over again and they'll hate it!

ynyn_unofficial huh , that wasn't where i thought that was going.

danielricciardo The rest are reserved for the bedroom 😉😊

penn4pennies Okay, you're banned from ever stepping foot near the studio.

Comments on this post has been limited

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! by andcar

#🔖 . DR3 #: 🔗 social media #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 scenarios #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagines

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smoooothoperator · 5 months ago

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What Was I Made For?

03: Look What You Made Me Do

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: the day after, some misogyny:)

a/n: Hello hello!! This time is short one, I think... But is a very important one :) I had a rellay rough weekend because I'm sick and I still had to do some rehearsals (believe me, is not funny having a cold and singing at the same time) I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!!

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Something heavy was wrapping my waist. And the duvet is not that heavy.

And it feels warm… So warm… My whole body feels warm.

I groaned, opening my eyes slowly and groaning when the daylight blinded me.

“Fuck…” I groan, feeling an instant headache, probably the hangover from last night.

I looked down at that arm. Those rings… I know those rings. White and blue crystals. And a bracelet.

It can't be.

“What the fuck?!” I scream, turning around and finding him laying next to me. “Get out of my bed!”

“Fuck, Melanie… What the hell…”

Melanie?

I jumped out of bed and immediately noticed I was naked. Just like him.

“No…. No, no, no, no” I mumble, grabbing the first thing I found to cover my body. “Get out of here!”

He groaned, turning around and finally opening his eyes. The shock in his face probably was higher than the hangover, making him fall from the bed to the floor. He was naked. Completely naked. No shirt, no pants. No boxers. Nothing. Bare, completely bare.

“Get out of my fucking room” I said seriously, my blood boiling slowly.

“You are in my room” he frowned, covering his dick with his hand. “Get out. Where is Melanie?”

“Are you stupid?! This is my room! My things are here, look!”

He frowned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand and looking around. My suitcase was there. My backpack, my makeup bag, my book.

“Fuck” he whispered.

I clenched my jaw and looked at him. There's no way… There's no way we did it. Why? Why the hell did he come here after what he did last night?

“Get out” I groan. “Did you use a condom at least?”

“I would rather be dead than fuck with you, keep dreaming” he scoffed, grabbing his clothes and getting dressed immediately. “I'm not one of those you can fuck”

“Fucking asshole” I groan. “You know what? You were right! I fucked with Mick! Go on, go tell everyone I did! Oh no, wait. You already did last night”

“See? You don't deserve the seat” he scoffed. “You do exactly what people thought women would do to get in this sport. Fuck your way into a seat. You are a…”

I frown looking at him and then at the shoe that was on the floor next to me. I clenched my jaw and grabbed it, pointing at him with it, threatening him.

“Come on, say it if you dare to. I am a what?” I scoffed. “Get out of here before I call the security of the hotel. Get the fuck out of here before I kill you!”

“You won’t do that” he laughed, collecting his clothes. “You are too soft, you even apologize when you take someone off track. See? You shouldn’t be he-”

The heel of my hand flew to the other side of the bed, hitting him right on the chest. He looked at me with a mix of surprise and anger, rubbing the spot where the heel hit him.

“The next one goes to your eye, you hear me?” I groaned, grabbing the other heel.

“You are crazy!” he groaned, grabbing all his clothes and running out of the room before I did what I promised.

“You don’t know a shit about me” I groaned right when he slammed the door.

When he closed the door I was still standing in the middle of the room, feeling shivers all over my body, making me run to the bathroom and throw up.

I feel gross, so gross. I barely remember what happened last night, only that he humiliated me in front of all the people that attended the party, then someone dragged me out of the club and brought me to my room. Then hard knocks… And his lips pressed on mine.

Why didn't I stop him? What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I let him do whatever he wanted?

“You are better than this” I said, looking at myself through the mirror, pointing at the reflection. “This is just a bump in the way, a small obstacle to avoid. He won’t get on your nerves, you are better than him. Yesterday you showed it. It is time to show him who you are”

I took a deep breath and smiled at the reflection, nodding. I am better than him.

I grabbed clean clothes and headed to the shower, taking a long time to get ready and relax, washing my body over and over again, needing to erase every mark of his fingerprints on my skin, needing to erase every bit of him.

He will regret every word or thing he did to me. Not only what he said yesterday. I’ll make him regret everything he did to me.

Driving out of the hotel was as tedious as I thought it was going to be. Maybe even more.

My family probably left to go home early this morning, so I was now on my own, with sunglasses to hide the dark circles under my eyes, music to entertain me, and a long way to my home.My phone was burning with messages and notifications, but since my manager was the one that took care of my social media, I just ignored it.

Until I received a call.

Fred.

Fuck.

“Hey, Fred… Everything okay?” I sighed, answering the call.

“Is it possible for you to come to the factory? It's important”

“Eh… Sure, I guess?” I frown.

“Good. It's urgent, so make sure to arrive as soon as possible”

“Alright” I sighed as he ended the call.

Urgent? What can be urgent to not wait some days to let us rest after the race? They normally let us have a free day before doing meetings and interviews.

Now the joy of winning a race is slowly slipping through my fingers, afraid of receiving a warning because I didn't work as a team.

But why would they give me a warning? I did everything they asked for, I obeyed and listened to my engineer. I was respectful with them and even with the cars around me, trying to make a perfect race without mistakes.

Before I knew it I was already driving through the Marinello streets, watching their people waving at me and walking towards my car as I approached the entry of the factory.

There was no one there, not as always. And somehow, that surprised me. They knew our cars, they were always waiting for one of us. But the entry was empty.

I parked my car and frowned when Charles' car wasn't there, and somehow that turned on the alarm in my brain.

They are not happy because I won? That's it?

“Hey, Fred” I smile nervously, closing the door of his office behind me. “So… I'm here. What was that important thing you wanted to talk about?”

“I heard that yesterday, during the party, things happened” he said. “That Charles started it”

“Oh… Yeah, that” I sighed, sitting on the chair after he pointed at it with his hand. “It's okay, I want to forget it. He was clearly drunk”

“We are aware of that” he nodded. “You’ll see… We are aware that being a woman in this sport is hard, that the way here wasn't as smooth as a man can have. And we are so proud to have you in the team…”

“But?” I sighed. “There's a but there, right?”

“But…” he nodded, smiling weakly. “Well, I want to know that whatever he said is not true”

“What?” I frowned. Is he really asking that?

“It's for your own good” he said quickly, raising his hands. “We want the best for the team, and we want to have a good image of our drivers…”

“You want me to tell you that I didn't get my success because I sucked someone's dick” I scoffed. “Right. Well, let me ask you something? You've got this position because you bribed the owner?”

“That's out of context” he frowned.

“No it's not. It's exactly the same” I frowned, standing up. “I succeeded because I never gave up, no matter how many people thought the same as you about me. I gave nothing but blood, sweat and tears for this dream. None of you have an idea of what it is to be a woman in this sport. So please, don't you ever assume I sucked someone's dick to have a seat because it's never and will never be true”

I saw his jaw clenching a few times, looking at me with serious eyes. My breathing was heavy, somehow altered with all the anger I have been feeling for the last hours.

“I'll make Charles apologize in public” he said.

“And one last thing” I said, swallowing thickly. “Never make me record things or be in the same room as him to act like friends. What happened last night was enough to test my limits, and he clearly didn't respect them at all. He never did, anyway. Don't make me be friendly with him ever again”

“Sure” he nodded. “He will be punished for his behavior”

“Thank you” I sighed, taking a deep breath and walking out of the office.

What the fuck is wrong with this world?

Going home was a thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted to lay on my couch, watch my favorite series and cuddle my cat.

“Hey Athena” I smiled, looking at the blue eyed Ragdoll that came towards me, purring and rubbing her head against my legs.

I left my suitcase and bags in my room, throwing myself into my bead and groaning. My cat came, purring and rubbing her head against my cheek, laying next to my head.

“Oh, Thena…” I sighed, kissing her little head. “Men are so stupid… We don't need them, right? They think they can be better than us, stronger than us… But a world only dominated by men would end like something similar to the Wall-E movie. Or even in another war. Uhg… Stupid men”

Athena blinked slowly, purring loudly and licking my cheek softly, making me smile and sigh.

Life is better when you have a cat. Fuck men.

I sigh and sit on the bed, picking up the white and brown cat in my arms, smiling when she climbed up to my shoulder to sit there. I smiled, rubbing her head softly, and walking towards the kitchen.

“Oh, Nina came to feed you, hm?” I smiled softly. “You were a good girl so she gave you wet food, huh?”

I smile, feeling ber head bumping against mine as I talked with her softly.

My home is my safe space. I can be myself, free of hate and the competition. Free of people that want more and more of me. Here I'm only Dafne, nothing else.

“See? Even fictional characters are idiots sometimes” I sighed, looking at the TV and pointing at Sebastian Stan while rubbing Athena's head. “Look at him, he acts nice at the start and then he ends being in the mafia”

Athena looked up at me, purring and somehow killing me with her eyes.

“Right, we love Sebastian Stan” I nodded, chuckling when I heard my cat's soft meow.

When the movie ended I sighed, grabbing the plate of my lunch and putting it in the dishwasher.

I should plan things for this week, choosing outfits for the interviews and events, reserve hotel rooms near the events. I have to do so many things…

The ringtone of my phone made me flinch, sighing softly when I saw Fred's name on the screen.

“Hey” I sighed. “L-look, what I said earlier..”

“Charles refuses to apologize” he interrupted me.

“As I imagined” I scoffed. “And that punishment? He won't race in the next race? Will you fire him?”

“We will put the updates on your car on the next race” he said. “And we'll prioritize you over him”

“What?” I frown. “Are you for real? Only that?”

“There's anything else we can do, Dafne…” he sighed.

“There is! Is not fair, Fred! He questioned my whole career!” I exclaimed, madly.

“And we will have a heavy talk with him about this” be frowned. “Is the middle of the season, I can't fire him”

“Right” I scoffed. “Well, I guess this is something that needs a lawyer”

“Dafne, don't do anything stupid” he said.

“Stupid? Stupid is what you call a punishment! He refuses to apologize? No worries! I'm sure a demand will make him change his mind” I scoffed.

“L-look… If you want I can give you a free week… so you can calm down and disconnect-”

“Calm down?! Oh, believe me, Vasseur. I'm really calm right now” I frown. “I thought that we were on a year where the equality was something real, but I guess that's only for the publicity and to have more followers, right?”

“You are taking this too far, Dafne…” he sighed.

“No I'm not” I said. “You talk about women in this sport but none of you respect us! What do I have to do to gain everyone's respect? Put a warning too? Because it seems that winning a race is not enough”

“No” he sighed. “No, I'm sorry, okay? I'll make everything to make sure he understands that what he said is wrong”

“Don't worry. I'll do that my way” I said. “I think it's about damn time for him to know that I'm not one of those girls he can play with”

“Just…” he sighed, taking some deep breaths before talking again. “Don't fight. Not physically, not verbally. Things are already messy”

“Sure” I sighed, ending the call and clenching my jaw.

Athena walked towards me, jumping on top of the table and looking at me with her big blue eyes. Of course she knows something is wrong.

“It's time to show him what he have done, Thena” I said, rubbing her head. “He said I am a bitch? Then I'll be a bitch. A really bad one”

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo

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