#to eat her so good that she can’t remember

[closetedlesbean]

I could eat that girl for lunch

ellie x fem!reader

A/N: please excuse if this bad, idk what I’m doing cause its my first time writing. and Im currently obsessing over hmhas :0

Summary: You were gonna go out with your friend but Ellie was just a little too needy. At least you still went out! With your legs shaky.

Warnings: sub!reader, soft dom!ellie, femme reader, cunnilingus, fingering, cum eating, no use of y/n, ellie and reader are dating

You planned to go out with your friend. You had your makeup done and dressed up a bit. A black tube top and blue jeans.

You sprayed on your perfume. You then looked in the mirror, picked up your phone and snapped a cute mirror picture.

You looked at the picture. You looked nice. You sent it to her. To your really hot girlfriend, Ellie. Your friends say that you have delicious taste in women. You couldn’t blame them.

Ellie was busy with studying astronomy in the other room. You never really understood her obsession with space. It was cool but Ellie spent hours researching about a star or planet. Then she blabbed to you about it. But you couldn’t get mad, it was adorable.

She was sitting at her desk, eyes glued to the white computer screen with her fingers typing away at the keyboard. She got distracted by the abrupt ding coming from her phone. Her hand went to grab her phone and clicked on your message.

Her eyes locked onto the picture. And boy was she infatuated. She was almost drooling. She was gawking for a hot minute.

You heard a knock on your door. “The door’s open!” You said from where the mirror was.

Ellie walked in. Her cheeks looked pink. “You look so beautiful baby” she just stared. It made your face heat up as you gazed at her through the mirror. “Where are you going?”

You turned to look at her, “I’m going out with my friend, remember?” She raised her eyebrows, muttering a small “oh”

She looked a little let down that you were leaving, but it won’t hurt to convince you to stay.

“Do you want me to bring lunch home?” Ellie looked up at your eyes again. “It’s fine. I mean you’re here” She grinned lopsidedly. It made you giggle.

“El, I’m going out, no.” You demanded playfully.

Ellie pouted. “Please? You guys can go out tomorrow” She gave you those signature puppy eyes. This girl was so needy, but you weren’t complaining.

You stared at her for a moment, slightly, just slightly regretting sending her that picture.

You sighed out. How could you say no to that pretty little face of hers? “Fine. But make it quick”

She grinned and kissed your cheek out of celebration.

She kneeled down to her knees and started to unbutton your jeans. She was eager, fumbling with the zipper.

She pulled down your jeans which pooled at your ankles and placed a light kiss to your clothed cunt, making you whimper. There was already a wet patch on your panties.

She pulled down your panties and licked a fat stripe up your wet pussy. You let out a moan. She sucked your puffy clit in her mouth and hollowed out her cheeks.

“A-ah ellie!” You moaned. She flicked her tongue at your clit.

She pushes her fingers in your sopping hole, then curling them. It made your back arch. “oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph.”

Your hips bucked, pushing your pussy onto her face more. She moaned at your taste, sending vibrations through your cunt.

The sounds in the room were pretty filthy. Full of your pretty moans and whimpers and the sounds of ellie slurping away at your slick.

You get the familiar feeling in your belly. “E-ellie! G’na cum!” She just hums into your pussy. She can’t get enough of you.

The band in your stomach snaps and your eyes roll back as you cum. And Ellie swallows all of it.

You look down at Ellie and she just smiles up at you. She pulls your panties and jeans up and lightly kisses you.

Let��s just say you were a little wobbly when you were out with your friend.

[pupyuj]

[cw: g!p liz, pregnancy, breeding kink, lactation kink]

i wasn’t meant to write anything for this bcs i was literally just sitting eating breakfast this morning when the thought of baby daddy jiwon graced my brain and i laughed at it for a second but then it got serious so now ya’ll have to indulge me bcs??? 🤤🤤 also not me saying that that one baby daddy yuj was the only time i’ll write abt pregnancy and yet here we are…

kinda long bcs i rlly loved the fluffy stuff so hehe have fun 💖

we’re all thinking about the same thing, right? your chaotic mess of a girlfriend jiwon feeling as if her whole world was turned upside down when you sit her down and give her the news in the morning where the two of you were supposed to go on a cute picnic date 😭 you can’t tell me she wouldn’t sit there for at least half an hour taking everything in, merely just staring at the wall with her mouth hanging open for so long you thought it would get stuck that way 😭😭 and ykw you were worried for a bit!! the two of you certainly didn’t plan on this happening and this was the clear result of both of you forgetting to use protection that one night where you were just eager to feel the other’s skin,, you half expected jiwon to be angry and lash out at you but no! ofc weird ass jiwon takes a deep breath before pulling you up to your feet and hugging you 🥺

she figured that the news was even harder on you since you were the one carrying the kid,, and being the amazing girlfriend she was, she prioritized your feelings over her own,, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear when you broke down in her arms not bcs you were upset abt being pregnant or anything but bcs you were just relieved that jiwon wasn’t going to abandon you 🥺🥺 and you’d still go on that picnic date with her! it would be awkward at first but best believe she’s promising to be there for you and with you every step of the way whether or not you decide to keep the baby 🥹💞

i believe in the ‘jiwon would be a wonderful soon-to-be-daddy’ agenda! due to her genuine fear of fucking shit up, she’d probably read countless parenting books 😭😭 sure she knew how to take care of a little kid or two but not a baby! let alone one that she made! she’s reading books, getting ahead of the game and researching and possibly buying all the stuff your kid needs, asking her parents for advice… jiwonie just wants to be the perfect partner and parent 🥺💕 you’d find her in the kitchen one day practicing how to make milk—as in making sure it’s the correct temperature and that it tastes good.. don’t ask her how many times she has actually finished a whole tiny bottle of baby milk 😭😭

and now to the nasty parts! ☺️ if i remember correctly i said this same thing about baby daddy yuj (🤤… sorry—) but jiwonie would sometimes find herself staring at you and thinking back to the night she got you knocked up! it would be worse with her though—unlike yujin’s massive ego showoff, she’s more… dreamy about it? 😭 like she’s really basking in every detail of that night from the stumbling-into-your-bedroom shit while giggling, practically ripping each other’s clothes off while making out, jiwon surprising you with her hidden strength when she suddenly just pushes you into the bed and quite literally gives you the best fucking of your life?? all that of that along with seeing that growing bump in your stomach and your now swollen tits heavy with milk, well… nobody can blame jiwon from getting hard on the spot!

also becomes a clingy perv 🤤🤤 obsessed with backhugging you randomly and kissing your neck bcs it makes you giggle bcs ur ticklish and she loves hearing you laugh BUT ALSO you whimper and get goosebumps all over your skin so it just… turns her on so much 🫣 loves caressing your little baby bump while she half listens to you yap about your day and half touches you all over 😳 you don’t notice what she’s doing until one of her hands is squeezing your inner thigh and the other is making its way up to your breasts,, “our kid’s very lucky.. they have the prettiest mom in the whole world.” and she’s leaving marks all over your neck and shoulder while she feels up your soaked panties… 🫣🫣

jiwon’s a love-maker so expect to be gently fucked while standing by the sink! has definitely memorized each and every spot that has you scratching her arms and curling your toes so you were just completely at her mercy the entire time! the contrast of jiwon telling you the sweetest and prettiest things in your ear while she softly fucks you into an orgasm that has you seeing white?? see, she’s all hot and sexy while fucking you but then you turn around after getting situated and you see a wet spot in the middle of her pants.. even she would laugh and cover up her red face 😭 but she can’t help it okay?! it’s totally normal for someone to cum while fucking their partner.. jiwon just happened to be so stinking cute while doing so that you can’t help but take her to bed afterwards 🤭

now as we’ve established before, jiwon’s always taking care of you and that pretty much tripled every time you wanted to do something ‘drastic’ in terms of sex!☝️ jiwon is always careful when in bed with you, only choosing positions that were safe and comfortable for you even if they weren’t for her! even if you have her rolling her eyes to the back of her head while you ride her, jiwon’s still looking out for you! whether it may be asking if you’re okay, if anything hurts, or just singing your praises to ease you 🥺🥺

jiwon’s so weak against dirty talk too?? 😭 especially when you tell her you want to make a big family with her bcs she knows that means you want her to get you pregnant over and over and yk what that does to her brain?? it almost literally shuts it down bcs she gets sooo turned on at the idea 😵‍💫 sometimes she even thinks about it when she’s cleaning up the house or at work and has to run to the bathroom bcs her fucking cock just wants to burst out of her pants 😭 baby can’t control it, she always needs you :((

ah yeah and the moment your tits start leaking?? it’s so over bcs you’d think that jiwon wouldn’t get even more obsessed with you than she already is but you’re so wrong‼️‼️ teases you and calls you ‘mommy’ a lot while licking and sucking away at your breasts.. and eye contact is a must bcs she loves the flush on your cheeks as you watched her lap all of your milk up! 🫣 and she definitely makes a joke abt being the one to drink your breastmilk if your kid ever gets tired of it but the two of you know damn well it’s not just a joke 🤭 jiwon also loves massaging your breasts to ease the tension in your shoulders and god her dick just gets so fucking hard when she feels her hands get wet w your milk 😵‍💫

in all of your years dating jiwon you never could have guessed that there was a gentlewoman in her! definitely the perfect balance of being a good mommy and a very charming daddy 🥺🥺 speaking of which, her knees turn into jelly whenever you ‘jokingly’ call her ‘daddy’ in and out of bed 🫣 she’s the cutest baby daddy ever 💕

[calaisreno]

Let Me Have This

1554 words / Prompt: Do-Over

She’s determined to take it all away from him. Every damn thing. All the little things. 

He wonders why he didn’t notice it happening. The little smirks when she reads his blog. The comments when he mentions Sherlock, insignificant but biting. It’s been systematic, and he’s let it happen. 

None of it seemed worth arguing about. When he met her, he’d already mourned and tried so many times to put it away, to think of it as something that he would endure. Something terrible, but that’s how life is, the good and the bad, and you still have to go on living. He survived.

So he hadn’t argued; that would have taken too much energy, and he never had enough of that in those days. 

She’d been wonderful, really, at the beginning. She’d gone to the grave with him, stood by him, let him mourn. She’d been patient, lovingly patient, urging him back into life. 

“Are you never going to eat Thai food again?” she would ask. 

Or: “Why do you keep this old jumper with the burn holes? It’s unwearable.” 

Or: “We don’t need to take the newspaper. You can read it online.”

And gradually, she had replaced every damn thing with a new thing. New jumpers, Korean food. A different brand of tea. Romantic films. Different news programs. 

Even his old, stained mug. “It was chipped,” she said.

None of it was unreasonable, taken as individual actions. But all together it made his old life seem flawed, as if he hadn’t done anything right until he met her. 

He did notice. But he’d thought she was something good in his life, a new beginning, a person who knew what she wanted. It was flattering to be pursued. 

Every relationship requires a partner who gives in, who is the more reasonable one, the one who lets things go. He saw that in his parents, his mother headstrong and insistent, his father calm and accepting. Yes, dear.

That was how they were, before. Sherlock led, John followed. Sherlock had strops and broke crockery and said awful things sometimes, and John smoothed it all over. Or when he finally couldn’t, he would have his own strop, tell Sherlock to stop— 

You machine. 

He hadn’t seen that coming, either. His role was reining Sherlock in, pulling him back from the edge. That’s what he’d thought was happening. As it turns out, he was wrong. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t be the one to say, Stop it. Let me have this.

He doesn’t deserve a life now because he didn’t protect Sherlock when it really mattered. He let him go over the edge, fall—

Mary is a do-over. He was punishing himself, and she appeared, offering him a chance at something better. Letting himself be loved, cared for. She’s competent, not nostalgic. 

It’s an insidious trap, a carefully laid one. Where she could have let him mourn, let him remember who he was when he loved Sherlock— she has tried to reshape all his memories. Sherlock was a child, she seems to say; you were a fool to make yourself responsible for him. He had you under his thumb because he really was a sociopath. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. I’m the best thing that could have happened to you.

And now, she’s taken the last thing. 

I like him. She said that in the cab, coming home. Home, to the flat she picked out and decorated, where there isn’t even one tiny piece of John Watson. 

She’d seen his anger, his grief. She’d been outraged, on his behalf. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? His anger was right. She’d affirmed it.

But afterwards she smiled like the cat who got the cream. As if it had all gone according to plan. She likes Sherlock. She’s going to talk him around. And once again, John will be the unreasonable one. 

And he sees how it will go. She’ll take credit for bringing them back together. It will be the three of them now. And of the two of them, Sherlock will find Mary the more interesting one, the one who really gets him. They will bond, and John will be the one they joke about. The third wheel. Poor John. He can see her tagging along on cases, texting Sherlock, giggling with him about private jokes. 

She’ll let him have Sherlock, as long as it’s clear that she owns John now. 

Let me have this. 

If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it back. He’s going to have to say no to Mary, if he wants Sherlock back. He’s still angry, but now that he sees what’s happening, he can’t unsee it. He’ll never be happy in the life she’s prepared for him, free from all the clutter and disarray of life with Sherlock. She’ll keep him in their tidy flat and let him out to go play with Sherlock. And if he ever starts to crave that life again, she’ll find a way to separate him from it. 

It’s after midnight and he’s standing outside of 221B. He’s already mentally rehearsed several versions of an apology when his phone buzzes. 

Are you coming up? SH

He smiles. 

Oscillation on the pavement. An affaire de coeur? SH

Sherlock still signs his texts, and this is oddly comforting. At least something hasn’t changed. 

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the last time he went out and closed the door behind him, never to return. He’s been back once to see Mrs Hudson, but never up these stairs. 

The door is open, and he stands on the threshold, taking in everything that two years haven’t changed. The flat looks just as it did on the last day he stood here. It’s like time travel. 

But he’s still Future John, the one who grieved, who hit his best friend when he returned as John had begged him to do. The one with regrets.

And Sherlock is different too. He stands at the window, looking down at the street as if he’s expecting someone. His posture is taut, careful.

“I hope… I’m not intruding.”

Sherlock turns and faces him. The split lip has healed, but there is caution in those grey eyes. John never wants to see that look again, not directed at him. 

“Come in, John.”

He does, glancing at his old chair, then staring at his own feet, words having deserted him. Sherlock gestures for him to sit, but he feels like a guest in what used to be his home, and it’s painful. He remains standing.

“Something is wrong,” Sherlock says. “You’ve quarrelled with Mary.”

“No.” He closes his eyes. “She’s fine. It’s me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sherlock steps closer, cocking his head and silently deducing him. “A mistake?”

I’ve proposed to a woman I don’t know because I couldn’t go on without you. I hit my best friend because I couldn’t bear…

He looks up at Sherlock, tears filling his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

The look on Sherlock’s face is surprise. “John, you need not apologise. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me. I should not have approached you as I did.”

“Can we… just…” He sniffs. “Could we pretend that the last few days haven’t happened yet? You’re back, and I’m—”

“You’re asking for… I believe it’s called a do over?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Sherlock smiles. “Where do we begin?”

“Let’s say I’m not at dinner, not proposing to Mary. You’re not wearing a silly fake moustache—”

“You’ve shaved yours off.”

“Yeah, you were right. So. I don’t have a moustache, and I’ve come over to have a look up here, because… I’m about to take a step that feels irrevocable, one I wouldn’t be taking if you were alive.”

Now Sherlock looks puzzled, but he doesn’t speak. 

“My therapist has been bugging me to say something… to you. Something I wished I’d said… before. And I couldn’t say after. But I need to say now.”

Lips parted, Sherlock is frowning. “Say… what?”

He closes his eyes. “You were the best. The best person I’ve known. The best friend. You saved my life, gave meaning to what was left of it. And I… I love you. I don’t care that you were married to your work, or that you despise sentiment. I love you, and I wish I’d said it before.”

Laying a hand on Sherlock’s heart, he feels it beating, alive. “I want to come back. Come home. Live with you.”

“But… Mary?”

“A mistake. And you’ve just given me the impossible. The thing I asked for. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sherlock is silent. He stares over John’s shoulder, blinking as if that genius brain has gone offline. 

“Sherlock?”

The pale eyes focus on him. “You want to come home? Here? You love me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t—”

“Just to be clear, when you say love —”

John puts his arms around him. “This.”

As he looks up, expecting to see Sherlock frowning, the most extraordinary thing happens. 

There are tears in Sherlock’s eyes, and he’s about to—

When the kiss ends, Sherlock holds him pressed against his chest. “Just to be clear,” he says. “I love you too.”

--

Posted on AO3 here.

[sturnsjtop]

stupid fucking dare

you and matt are fwb and on a boring night you guys decide to go to the beach to relax but a stupid little thing you dared him to do was probably not a good idea.

Your thoughts

Third person pov

Friday, 10pm

Y/n pov

Me and Matt have been bored out of our minds for an hour now. Even tho we fucked 2 times today we weren’t really in the mood for a round 3.

I’m chilling on the couch next to him as an idea pops in my head.

“Wanna go to the beach? Just to chill or whatever”

He looks at me and nods “yeah I guess we could go”

Friday, 11pm

We’ve been playing a game “truth or dare” and he dared me to eat sand. What’s up with this kid?

“Come on your turn ask me” he says calming down from his laughter after seeing me choke and spit the sand out.

“truth or dare, bitch.”

“I ain’t a pussy, dare.” He says smirking at me

I laugh. “Oh you’re gonna get it.” I smirk and look around “I dare you to go over to that girl” I point to a random girl “and ask her to hook up but if she agrees just tell her it was a joke or something. I don’t wanna see you fuck other girls.” I say giggling.

Matt glances over to where I pointed and looks back at me smirking

“Whew a nice dare, huh? Alright then, wish me luck. I’ll make you proud.” He says as he stands up and smirks at me while walking up to the girl

She wasn’t far away so I could hear perfectly what they were saying

He stands in front of her taking in her appearance. She was really fucking gorgeous.

“Hey girl. You look mighty lonely down here. Mind if I join you?” He asks trying to keep his charm and ‘confidence’ and hoping to pull it off

The girl glances up at Matt, giving him a flirty smile as she takes in the sight of him. A slight look of appreciation in her eyes as she sizes him up. “Sure handsome, I don’t mind at all. What brings you here to me?”

Lord help me I’m cringing at the sight of this. Come on Matt do this quick and come back.

Matthew manages to maintain his composure, flashing a smile and sitting down beside her. “I just saw a gorgeous girl all alone and I just couldn’t resist coming over to keep you company. A girl like you deserves a man who’ll treat you properly, ya know?” He says taking her hand in his and gently kissing it.

Ew, what the fuck Matt? You don’t know where that hand has been. I look at them shocked as I’m waiting for him to up and end to this torture and do his fucking dare.

I mean the dare was not flirting with her, just asking to hook up. Maybe I’m jealous but what is he doing? He doesn’t even know her name.

Matt takes a moment to chat with the girl flirting back and forth feeling almost a rush as he takes her in, her beauty drawing him in. His breath growing slightly more shallow as he looks at her, feeling a sudden pang of warmth go through his chest. He can’t help the strange feeling for this random girl as his mind begins to wander but when he remembers the dare he snaps out of it. He shifts slightly and looks at her.

“So.. doll.. I’m in a bit of a predicament. What would you think about helping me out a bit?”

The girl looks at him, her eyes widening at the words. She purrs out a response “Sure thing handsome… what kind of help do you need?”

“Just a small favor..”

Matthew what the fuck are you doing? Ask her to hook up, tell her it was a joke and fucking leave.

“What do you say.. we go somewhere more private and… you know.. I’ll show something you wouldn’t wanna miss out on” he says in a seductive tone while putting his hand on her thigh waiting for a response.

She nods and they stand up, going somewhere that it’s not even private. I can’t with Matthew. Just get this over with. Like it’s already done Matt just say it was a joke and come back to me.

He turns to her, biting his lips and places his hands on her hips. His eyes dark with desire he pulls her in and kisses her. His hands going to her ass and he squeezes it. She moans and he slides his tongue in, making out like it’s the last day on earth.

I look at them shocked. This wasn’t part of the fucking dare, what the fuck is he doing? Literally 2 hours ago we were hooking up and now he’s tryna fuck this random whore he met not even 10 minutes ago? He doesn’t know her name. Does he even remember he came here with me? Is he fucking with me? I’m so fucking done with him. He can get his dick wet and make out with her while I just stand there and watch them do it? Fuck you Matthew. I so fucking hate you.

I stand up and go the other direction, leaving the beach as a tear goes down my face

Why the fuck am I even crying for? Maybe I liked him? Of course I fucking like him, I love him. But what he’s doing right now is so fucked up. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have dared him that. But no it’s not. It was just a dare. I made it clear after she agreed that he has to say he’s joking because I didn’t want to see him fuck other girls. But here we are.

Matt loses himself in the kiss, feeling a heavy rush of lust and excitement as their bodies are pressed against each other. It’s a rush he hasn’t belt in years, having a pretty woman pressed against him. It almost feels like a dream, a fantasy. After a while he pull away breathing heavily and coming back to his senses. He looks around to look for y/n but she wasn’t there. He starts to panic.

The random girl looks at him confused “what happened baby? Why’d you pull away?”

Y/n is sprinting to her best friends house, Sabrina while crying her eyes out.

Matts heart clenches in his chest, a pang of guilt running through him. He realised you were there watching all of this. His stomach drops as he realises what he’s done. He sighs “oh fuck”

The girl looks at him confused “huh?”

Matthew backs away from her and leaves her there, while he’s trying to call you and run after you but you weren’t in sight.

Saturday, 00:23am

“I never want to see him again. He can fuck other girls I don’t fucking care. He’s the one who will get STDS not me.I fucking hate him.” I say crying in my best friends bed cuddling her. She barely understands what I’m saying

“It’s okay y/n, he’s fucking stupid for putting you through that. You’ll find someone better.” Sabrina says as she runs her fingers through my hair.

Saturday, 2pm

Me and Sab went to sleep at 4am. All we did was talk about random stuff to get my head off Matthew. It kind of worked.

Now I’m heading back to my house feeling like shit and probably gonna stay in my bed all day watching random TV shows.

I get closer to my house and I see something there. Not something, more so someone.

Matthew.

In the same clothes as yesterday.

Did he stay in front of my house all night? What the fuck?

y’all don’t judge it’s my first time ever writing a fic and English is not my first language so excuse me😭😭😭

[yoonivy]

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 5.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. angst!!! uh... major character (for this fic anyway) death ahead... you've been warned... 01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

---

The people are calling it the Dance of the Dragons. 

A pretty song-like title for a tale that they will tell in future years to come of the triumph of the one who had sat victorious on the throne made of a thousand swords, the imagery of falling flying beasts, and the rise and fall of two families who share the same name. 

The winners will be lionized as heroes. They will have songs written about them and their pictures in the history books will be one of them looking tall and gallant. People will say their victory was selfless — all for the good of the realm and its people, and not for anything else. 

The losing side will be the villains and the cravens who gave up everything they had – their dignity, their moral compass, the ones they care about the most, and their lives. When people speak of their name, it will be said like it is a curse and as if they taste trash on their tongue. Or perhaps worse — there will be some who will not be remembered at all. 

But in reality, despite its pretty song-like title, this “Dance of the Dragons” is a brutal and cruel civil war that has already taken the lives of many and forever changed the trajectory of others. 

Aemond Targaryen thinks about his younger brother, Prince Daeron, no longer the young, carefree man with the easy-going smile for he has hardened by the horrors he has seen and caused himself, and for the dark liquor he drinks to forget it all.

He thinks about his sister, Queen Helaena, stuck in the prison of her bedchamber under her own volition; refusing to eat and sleep, over encumbered with grief and depression due to witnessing the brutal murder of her oldest son. Forever haunted by the fact that when the assassins gave the false illusion of choice to choose between which of her children to die, she had said her youngest’s name instead.

He thinks about his mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, who has seen the suffering her beloved children have been going through this past year and a half and weeps on their behalf every single night. Who tells Aemond that she is proud of him, and yet still cannot look him in the eye. 

Then, Prince Aemond thinks about himself, and the crown he wears now, as Prince Regent for his older brother, King Aegon, who is bedridden and unfit to rule with his severe injuries and burns due to the battle at Rook’s Rest, where they — Aemond, himself, and Aegon — took the lives of their aunt, Princess Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was and her dragon, Meleys. And though it is his older brother who bears the same name as their Targaryen ancestor who first sat on the Iron Throne as King and thus beginning the Targaryen dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms, Aemond thinks it is on his head that Aegon the Conqueror’s crown fits better. 

But he can’t— no, Aemond won’t think about the little cub so far from her forested island to inhabit the hollow and cold halls of Harrenhal. 

Though it seems that the Sevens are not the most benevolent of Gods; and when they give Aemond something that he wants, they always have a habit of taking something away. 

This time in exchange for the crown, they want his already crumbling peace of mind. 

“Harrenhal has been conquered,” Ser Criston announces as he storms furiously inside the pitched tent that Aemond and Daeron are using as a war council room at their base camp just by the southwest border of the Reach. “That filthy whore fucker captured it with his dragon and army.”

Daeron shrugs, kicking his feet up on the war table as he indulges on another gulp of wine. “Well, after tonight, we take full control of the whole Reach so who really cares about Harrenhal. Our dear uncle can have that cursed castle.”   

Clearly he is already in his cups and not thinking clearly if he thinks what he said has any sense to it. 

Aemond scowls at his youngest brother, pushing his feet off the table so suddenly that Daeron almost falls off the chair if he had not managed to catch his balance at the last second. Aemond then braces his hands on the edge of the table, glaring first at his brother then turning to the map laid out in front of him. “We’re not letting Daemon have anything, especially not Harrenhal — not when the Tullys, the Freys, and the Arryns are also for the Blacks.”

Daeron stands now and looks over the map with the Prince Regent, sighing when he realizes Aemond is right. If the Blacks get a hold of a Harrenhal as well, they can kiss goodbye to their already a sliver of an opportunity to invade the North. 

“How did Daemon manage to take hold of Harrenhal so quickly?” Aemond asks Ser Criston, looking wildly incredulous. It was only a few weeks ago that they got word from the castellan, Ser Simon Strong, that they have enough troops in Harrenhal to rally towards the other Riverlands Houses who supported Rhaenyra. “Was it really an incredible feat or are the Strongs as traitorous as they are in the penchant for producing lowly bastards?” 

The Lord Commander of the King’s Guard — and also now, the Hand of the King after King Aegon deemed his grandfather, Otto Hightower, unfit to guide him — shakes his head, unsure. “I would not put it past them, your Grace… With Harwin who sired three of that whore Queen’s sons, and the Clubfoot — fuck, that guy gives me the creeps…” Ser Criston shivers, thinking of Larys Strong, the master of whisperers. 

Aemond lets out a hmm in agreement. He never trusted Larys, and the way the man leered at his mother disturbed the prince and made his blood boil with rage.

“So I say we take no chances and just be done with the whole House,” the Lord Commander advises.

Aemond hums again, this time in contemplation at his suggestion. Ser Criston has a point. House Strong’s so-called loyalty to their side has not been beneficial to their cause in any way – the only thing they’ve truly given is their hold on Harrenhal, and now they don’t even have that. 

“Wait…” Daeron frowns, deep in thought. “Are you saying we should execute the Strongs?”

Ser Criston grins maniacally at the youngest prince. “Every. Single. Last. One. Of those traitorous fucks.”

Daeron finds himself grinning back, suddenly bloodthirsty. Although unfortunate, Lucerys’ death was all in all an accident. But the retaliation from Daemon – hiring two assassins to savagely murder Daeron’s nephew in front of his two younger siblings and their mother, Queen Helaena – was anything but an accident. It was a cruel act, made to break the Greens. Helaena has never been the same since that night, and Daeron is not sure if he is either. 

And if the Strongs are secretly aiding Daemon behind their backs, then they deserve to rot through all Seven Hells.

Despite his dark thoughts, Daeron casts his glance sideways at Aemond and cheekily says, “What say you, brother? Honestly… I’m all up for it!”

With his eye trained on where Harrenhal lays on the map, Aemond sucks in a short intake of air. 

Executing each and every member of the Strong family? But that also means…

There are two voices warring in his head, both loud and overbearing.

(You can’t. She’s there. And as much as you loathe it, she has taken the Strong name now as her own.)

And –

(Why does it matter? She abandoned you first. And if she chose to lay with traitorous men, then she shall lie in that bed and take it.)

Aemond shakes both the thoughts away, nostrils flaring as he takes another sharp breath before he looks from his brother to Ser Criston as he tells them his final plan, “Tomorrow, we’ll start our march for Harrenhal. If the Strongs aren’t already dead by the time we recapture the castle, then we’ll see which punishment fits. If it’s certain they betrayed us then I have no problem eradicating the Strong bloodline, for none of the Strongs hold any importance to anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms…” The words taste all kinds of wrong in his mouth and there are voices in his head telling him to take it back. But he shuts them out, stomps on their attempt to make him the villain in the story.

“But for tonight, let us focus on capturing Horn Hill.”

Daeron chugs back the rest of his drink, then tips the cup towards Aemond with a wine-stained smirk. “Then let’s get to it.”

---

When it comes to the battlefield, Daeron is a formidable force despite the three goblets of wine he had earlier – hence why he had been dubbed Ser Daeron the Daring. 

The Daring Prince slashes through the Tarly soldiers and villagers of Horn Hill as if they are merely practice dummies. The Prince Regent follows behind him, hacking down men from the opposing side left and right in his wake as well.

The little Horn Hill village they are in just a few ways away from the castle where the Tarlys sit is already in a chaos of their doing. Homes demolished and the screams of villagers loud in every direction. Above them, Vhagar and Daeron’s blue she-dragon, Tessarion, circle the night sky – burning down their flames wherever they see fit.

Aemond has grown used to these sights and sounds — many different villages, many different people, so many lives and livelihoods destroyed in a single day – so is it callous to say it does not even phase him anymore? 

At least he can say that he finds no joy in it – unlike his younger brother whose laughter grows more wicked with each body that falls limp on the ground as if they were nothing at all.

“It’s nice fighting alongside of you again, brother,” Daeron grins over his shoulder at Aemond as he pulls his bloody sword out of a man wearing the Tarly colors of olive green and red. “I wish I could have been there at Rook’s Rest with you and Aegon.”

“I don’t,” Aemond bites out, snarling when the man he is facing manages to parry his attack. But Aemond is quick to elbow him, causing the man to stagger back, and that is when Aemond drives his blade into his chest without mercy. Once the man falls, Aemond turns to Daeron to finish what he wanted to say, “I don’t need another incapacitated brother.”

Daeron sniffs, pretending to wipe away a tear with his finger. “So you do love me.”

Head shaking in disbelief, Aemond rolls his eye. Then he grabs Daeron on the nape of his neck, affectionately — like he used to do when they were younger. But this time, instead of the two of them laughing as they follow behind a miserable Aegon leave a feast overstuffed with a tummy ache, Aemond is now leading his younger brother through a battlefield that could lead to his death in any given second. 

“Come on,” he smirks at Daeron, before turning to where he sees Ser Criston ahead of them. “They’re advancing to the castle.”

With a determined nod, Daeron slaps the Prince Regent’s shoulder blade. An unspoken promise that he has his back.

Aemond is suddenly blinking back unshed tears. Him and Daeron have never been close – with Daeron’s distance when he was sent to Oldtown at age 12, it was impossible to be — but this war definitely brought them closer. Same with Aegon. It is true that Aemond still hates his older brother’s character and what he chooses to stand for in many ways, but he cannot deny the bond that formed between them when they fought and won so many battles side by side. Then with the tragedy that befell Helaena, Aemond became more fiercely loyal and protective of all his kin.

They may not be the most picture perfect set of siblings, and yet, his family… They are the only precious thing left in this world that he has. 

It is hard to explain fully. Maybe it is just the Targaryen way.

Together, Aemond and Daeron round a corner on the path leading to the castle, and that is when a poor, unfortunate soul bumps squarely against Daeron in his rush. But when Daeron grabs him – an arm around the man’s throat – it is Aemond’s gaze the man’s terrified and bewildered eyes finds. 

“Ae…” The man breathes out, a light of hopefulness softening his once distressed feature. Aemond stares at him wide-eyed, shocked and at a standstill. This can’t be real, right? It is just his mind playing tricks on him. It has to be. 

Daeron then presses the sharp edge of his sword against the man’s throat and he is once again in a panic, begging now, “Ae, please… I have a–”

“You know him, brother?” Daeron cuts him off, clearly confused as his sword starts to cut shallowly enough for blood to seep from the man’s throat. The man’s face started to crumble, silent tears streaking down his cheeks, petrified beyond belief. That look on his face, Aemond thinks as starts to breathe shallowly, that expression. Aemond can so clearly see it on someone else— 

The two youngest bear cubs did have the most similarities – even more so than the twins.

“No,” Aemond says in finality, face blank and impassive. He begins to walk past the man and his brother, without as much as a single glance. “Do as you will, Daeron.”

“With pleasure,” was the last thing Aemond sees Daeron say with that crazed smirk on his face. Behind his back, he hears Daeron state venomously with a spit afterwards, “You think you can just call him ‘Ae’? That’s the Prince Regent, you scum.”

Aemond freezes suddenly when it dawns on him what he had just done.

Wait, he thinks in a panic. Wait…!

But when he turns back around in an attempt to stop his brother, it is already too late.

There is blood. 

Blood everywhere.

Perhaps the most blood Aemond has ever seen in his life. It stains his hand, and yet, he is not even close enough for it to. But he is drenched in it. His shame is drowning in it. 

Though it is Daeron who slashed open his throat; Aemond feels as if he is one who held the sword, forcing his little brother to do it.

You did this! The voices in his head weep. This is your fault!

Daeron pushes the lifeless body down into the dirt, carelessly and with a shrug. There is blood on Daeron’s face, it is on his mouth like his wine. And when he beams at Aemond, the older Targaryen Prince cannot help but wonder if he tastes her blood on his tongue. For it is the same one that runs through her veins. 

“Shall we?” Daeron asks, cocking his head towards the castle. So nonchalant, like he had not just taken the life of—

Aemond stares at the body on the ground, still shellshocked. 

Daeron wraps his arm around Aemond’s neck, laughing joyously in his older brother’s ear as he drags him towards their destination. “Come on. We have a castle to ransack.”

---

With most of their men dead beyond the castle walls, it did not take long for Lord Alan Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill, to surrender to Prince Regent Aemond once they breach the front gates. 

The Greens celebrate their victory in the grand hall of the castle, the scent of fresh blood still in the air. Daeron is still covered in it — covered in his — that Aemond finds his stomach turning unpleasantly whenever Daeron gets too near him. And so when both Daeron and Ser Criston tease Aemond to stop looking so surly and glum when they have won, Aemond shrugs off Daeron’s arm around his shoulder and stands up stiffly, announcing he needs air.

So Aemond walks and walks and walks. He knows where his feet are taking him to — to whom his feet are taking him to — and every step he takes he dreads. Yet, he cannot seem to stop himself. 

The village is eerily quiet when he reaches it at the bottom of the hill. There are villagers still alive, but they must be cowering in fear inside their homes, trying not to make a sound. 

He is close to the corner of the path where it happened, he knows it. 

He is ready, he thinks, he is ready to see again the irreparable damage he has caused.

But when the lump on the ground comes into his view, he almost hurls out the dinner he barely ate.  

There are soldiers from the Greens side milling around, collecting their fallen companions. Aemond grabs for one wearing Hightower colors.

“Bring me a shovel,” Aemond demands through clenched teeth, and the soldier is quick to say ‘yes, Your Grace’ as he rushes to do as he was told.  

As Aemond stumbles closer, he notices that another body lies on top of the one he had left earlier. A beautiful woman with bright copper hair holds onto the man underneath her, the back of her light yellow dress pooled with red.

So, you got the girl afterall, huh, Jorah? Aemond thinks sadly.

And as dreadful as it is, they oddly look at peace...

Aemond almost laughs out loud, because that can't be right. It was probably just his mind trying to make this into some sort of tragic love story to make himself feel better.

While he stares at Jorah Mormont, Aemond begins to think about their shared interest in history and philosophy. How they would talk Jorah’s younger sister’s ear off until she pressed her hands over ears to hear no more, and then they both would attack her with tickles until she was laughing and crying at the same time. 

Aemond cannot help but smile at the memory — his heart suddenly hurting while he does, in disbelief at what he has done. And when the tears begin falling, he chokes back the sobs by biting down on his wrist. 

While he mourns them in this fucked up way of his, that is when he notices two things.

One, Jorah did not have a weapon with him. Perhaps maybe if he had something to defend himself… Aemond shakes his head bitterly. No, that would have not done anything. Jorah was not a fighter like Forrest or Braeden; even if he did have a sword with him, he would not have stood a chance to defeat Daeron.

And two, the bear patch on Jorah’s leather jerkin. A work of embroidery that Aemond has not seen for a long time, but he knows who exactly made it just by the fine detailing alone. He bends down, unsheathing the small dagger from his belt and begins to cut it off. 

As a prize? A remembrance?  

He does not know why, but he just wants to… Take it. 

After shoving it into his pocket, he glances over at Renee just as he hears someone approaching behind him – the soldier, letting him know he has a shovel for him.

Aemond nods back minutely. Then he takes a hold of Renee’s body, turning her over —

But what he sees cradled in her arm has him backing away in shock.

Aemond turns away from the sight and keels over on his knees, finally emptying his stomach like he had wanted to all night.

[cassidymb121]

OMG It’s You…(Part 8)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: reader feeling down, crying, people pleaser, (orange is Korean being spoken)

🏷: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone

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

Previously on OMG It's You…

Third Person POV

Y/N never imagined that she would be summoned to the conference room at her workplace, especially by unfamiliar individuals not from the United States. Nevertheless, they were seated on one side of the table, while Y/N found herself on the other, facing a stack of papers with the word "CONTRACT" emblazoned across the top.

“Are you interested in collaborating with us?”

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

Y/N’s POV

I have also been content with working in the evenings as I am a natural night owl. I also inherited punctuality from my father and typically arrive at work at least an hour early to have time to eat and fully wake up before my shift. Although I don't love my job, I am grateful for it as I have been in worse situations previously.

As I was about to start my shift, my boss sent me a text asking me to call immediately. I quickly dialed the number and waited anxiously as it rang. When my boss finally answered, they informed me that I was needed in the conference room in Building 1 right away. My mind raced as I wondered if I had done something wrong. I couldn't think of anything that would have led to this sudden summons.

I can feel my anxiety starting to creep in. “I'm not aware of what’s going on, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve just been told to inform you to come up here. It’s the conference room facing the front of the building.” I nod, but then realize they can’t see me. “Okay, I’ll be up there shortly.”

As we bid our farewells, my body starts to rebel. My heart races, my head throbs, and my hands tremble. I grab my belongings, preparing for the worst – getting fired. The short ride to Building 1 feels like an eternity as I battle my escalating anxiety. Upon parking, I make my way to the main entrance. Climbing the stairs, I unexpectedly encounter our CEO at the top. If my anxiety was bad before, it's now off the charts. I attempt to calm my racing heart, but it feels like it's about to burst out of my chest.

“Good Afternoon Miss Y/N," she said with a bright smile. I did my best to smile back, but my nerves were evident. "I'm sorry to call you up here, but there are some people who would like to talk to you." I froze up again, but this time for a completely different reason. "So then I'm not getting fired?”

"Oh heavens no! You're one of our top employees!" I let out a breath I was holding, then I remembered what she had just said. "Wait, who's here to see me?" She beamed and said, "Why don't you go see for yourself? It's the last door to your left. Take your time. Your boss knows where you are. Just let them know when you're done." I thanked her and took a few deep breaths. ‘I wasn't getting fired, but who could be waiting for me?’

As I walked to the door and opened it, I was greeted by a group of people I had never met before. To my surprise, they were all from Korea. I flashed a smile and said hello, and they returned the gesture, acknowledging my presence. After introducing themselves, I took a seat at the opposite end of the table.

"I'm sure you're curious about why we've come to see you." I chuckle softly. “I couldn't help but feel like I was getting fired today," I admitted. "We're sorry for the inconvenience. We came earlier this morning, but we were told you didn't start until later, so we had to leave and come back.” one of the ladies added.

“It's alright. I never imagined someone would come looking for me at my workplace.”

“I'm pretty sure you got a call from us a few weeks back," I nodded. "Yeah, I did. I did send an email in response later, but with work and the channel taking up most of my time, I just haven't had the chance to get back to you.”

“The channel is the reason why we're here.” I look to them in confusion. “In South Korea, you are one of the most popular channels. We have a diagram to show you.” They gave me a diagram that shows all the most watched people and/or channels in South Korea and I'm within the Top 5. Looking to the side, I see all the names of the people who are also listed along with the dates of when this was recorded.

“We've been keeping an eye on your channel for a while, and we're enjoying your content. Have you ever calculated how much you typically earn from your videos?" I pause and meet the man's gaze. "It all depends on the views I get. It can range from $150 to $500 per day and $5,000 to $9,000 per month. It varies based on the video.”

“How much are you pulling in at this job?”

"This job has the potential to bring in (your weekly earnings/twice a week) before taxes, and around (your weekly earnings/twice a week) after taxes. Any overtime you put in could really boost those numbers!" He nods in agreement and shifts his gaze to a stack of papers sitting on the table.

The conversation took an unexpected turn as the women across the table revealed their intentions. "We're here to offer you a job with us," one of them stated. I couldn't hide my surprise, "You want me to work for you?" The room filled with laughter as one of the ladies replied, "Yes, we would like you to work for us. We know it may seem surprising to you, but to us, it's quite simple. You see, there are multiple companies, including Music Industries like JYPE, who are interested in hiring you. That diagram we have isn't just to tell you that the majority of your viewers are in South Korea. It's to show you how popular you are in South Korea. In a sense, you could be just as popular as K-pop idols, if not more."

As I heard those words, I felt like my head was about to explode. The thought of being as popular as K-pop idols seemed too far-fetched to be true. However, as I glanced back at the diagram, a part of me started to see how it could make sense. After all, numbers don't lie. When I looked up again, I noticed that everyone around me had gentle smiles on their faces.

“So, what exactly are you hiring me for?” The gentleman to the far left speaks up. “That’s where I come in,” he begins. He proceeds to outline their proposal to bring me on board as a full-time content creator. The position would require me to relocate to South Korea and would come with a dedicated space for shooting videos. This would be a significant upgrade compared to the limited space I currently have in my room. Additionally, they offered me a part-time editing role when I'm not creating new content. Both positions came with generous compensation, but the amount they were willing to pay for my videos was almost beyond belief.

"Wait, $9,000 to $15,000 per video?!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My eyes must have nearly popped out of my head. Typically, a video with 150,000 views a day would earn around $620 to $1,035. On top of that, they were offering to pay me for each video, in addition to my regular YouTube earnings. It was hard to wrap my head around why they would offer so much. Finally, I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I asked the one question that had been consuming my thoughts all along.

“Why does it feel like everyone is trying to fight over me in some way? I mean, take a look at this diagram." *Showing them the diagram* "I get that I'm supposedly very well known over there, but why pay someone so much for videos that never get paid that much?”

The gentleman positioned in the center let out a small sigh before responding. "Due to your widespread popularity, everyone desires to have you working for them. It's a way of demonstrating that 'My company has become even more popular now that I have y/c/n working with me.' That's essentially what it signifies."

"So, essentially, that's your intention here. You want to have me under your company name to help your business expand." They all nod, and I turn my gaze to the left. "But what guarantee do I have that another company won't come along and offer me a better opportunity? What about that?" Before they can reply, I speak up again.

“Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I won't engage in this if it's solely about gaining popularity. I value my worth as a human being and refuse to be objectified or treated as a trophy. If I decide to pursue this, it will be on my terms. I'll only associate with a company that respects me as an individual, values my content creation, and allows me to work on my terms. I might consider additional projects in my spare time, but my integrity as a content creator mustn't be exploited. I seek a professional partnership without the need for flaunting or seeking fame.”

“We are committed to supporting your growth. Rather than simply showcasing you, we want to nurture your potential within our company. Your creativity and dedication could lead you to a producer role here. If necessary, we are open to adjusting the contract terms to better suit your needs. We envision a promising future for you, not only within our company but also in your personal life.”

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

Four days have passed, and here I am at my grandparent's house with most of my immediate family. We're gathered around, discussing the contract I've been revising with the company. They've been cooperative, working with me to include what I want and exclude what I don't want in the contract.

The updated contract sparked a lively discussion, or rather a heated debate, among my family members. Initially, they were all thrilled when I shared the news. Well, almost all of them. The mood quickly soured when I mentioned that I would have to move to South Korea.

“Why do you need to move? Can't you just remain here?”

“Why are they offering her such generous compensation?”

“It's likely a ploy to entice her into joining their team.”

“Have you considered the potential risk of experiencing a similar episode to your last one at WD? You've never had the experience of living independently, and the one time you did, you struggled to fulfill your financial obligations.”

“How are you planning to support yourself? Will the income be enough to cover your expenses?”

I excused myself and made my way to the back porch, hoping for a moment of peace. As I sank into the couch, I couldn't shake off the feeling that things were spiraling out of control. Just a few days ago, I had left the conference room on cloud nine, but now everything seemed to be falling apart.

It's tough to admit, but I've always been a people pleaser. I've spent my life doing what others thought was best for me, even when it made me unhappy. When I finally mustered the courage to pursue my passion and start my own channel, my family didn't support me. It was disheartening, and almost made me give up before I even started. However, with the encouragement of a few close friends, I found the strength to pursue my dreams. And now, I'm proud of how far I've come.

As I reflected on their questions and concerns, I found myself contemplating aspects that hadn't crossed my mind, such as the possibility of this opportunity being a scam. My once-envisioned dream job now seemed to be losing its luster. Just as my thoughts started to spiral, a familiar figure emerged to join me outside. I desperately needed to avoid any further negative discussions about the situation. Surprisingly, it was my stepmother (or someone equally close to me). Despite not being my biological mother, she has consistently been my pillar of support when others have fallen short.

“Hey there, are you holding up okay?" I give a small nod. "I'm hanging in there, I guess. I get why they're worried about this, but every time I start feeling a little hopeful, they shoot it down. I even spoke to the company about delaying my relocation, but they refuse to listen. It's like they don't hear me at all." I pause, looking at her, struggling to hold back tears. "Just once, I wish they could be happy for me. I'm finally making progress in my life, and I just want their support, not their doubts.”

As tears streamed down my face, my stepmom did her best to wipe them away. She pulled me close, and it was as if all the emotions I had held in for so long came rushing out. After I finally composed myself, she gently pulled away and looked at me with concern.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you Y/N. You know your grandparents and your dad adore you and would do anything to see you happy. I've always encouraged you to pursue your dreams and not let anyone hold you back. I still stand by that. I understand they may not be thrilled about you moving away, but if it means living the life you've always envisioned, then go for it. You know we'll always be in your corner, no matter what. Our collective wish is for you to find genuine happiness. Don't let their words steal your joy, okay?" With a nod, I couldn't help but smile a little brighter.

When we returned inside, everything had calmed down. They expressed their happiness for me and their concern about me being so far away. My stepmom even seemed to have said something to them before she emerged, as she winked at me when I turned to her.

I thought long and hard about it, but in the end, I took the leap and reached out to the company, letting them know I was ready to dive in. Within a week, I had the contract in hand, and soon after, I was receiving payment for the videos I'd already uploaded. Two weeks later, I handed in my notice at my job and officially transitioned to working full-time from home. I made it clear that I wanted to secure a place in South Korea near the company before making the final move, ensuring all my belongings were shipped across the seas.

In just one month, I'll be making the official move to South Korea! I couldn't be more thrilled about this incredible opportunity!

[darksigns-exe]

twenty buttons and a strap - nick folio x josie (ofc)

Pairing: Nick Folio x Josie (OFC) Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 2.5k Note: Prequel to Softly Know Me Masterlist

Days off are rare. They’ve had two relatively close to each other, one of which had been wet in the worst way possible. Today seems to be less rainy though. They’re in New York, and Nick has taken the liberty to spend the morning getting breakfast before he’ll lose too many hours in the music store. Matt will curse him when he comes back with more ideas for the kit, but then again, Matt will always find something to be grumpy about. 

Nick’s completely wrapped up in the plans for his day, running through the little itinerary he’d created for himself. He’s so distracted that the doesn’t notice the door to his right opening and the young woman storming out of it. He only notices when she slams square into him. In an instant, the contents of her bag spill across the side walk. Nick blindly reaches forward and just manages to stop her from falling. 

“Shit.” the curse falls from her seconds before she’s wrangling herself from his hold again. 

She scrambles to pick everything back up again, clearly in a rush. It takes Nick a moment to remember that he should probably help. And so he bends to pick up the loose papers and pens. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” He says quickly, knowing that it won’t make anything better. 

The shattered remains of her to-go coffee cup lie between them. Its contents slowly seeping into the cracks of the concrete slabs. 

“I didn’t look.” Her reply comes just as quick. 

“Can I get you a new coffee at least?”

“You really don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” He insists and for a moment he feels a little too pushy, but when he looks at her, he finds a curious little smile on her face. 

“There’s a good place up the street.” she finally says, and he can’t stop himself from smiling too. 

She tells him that her name is Josie, and Nick thinks that he’s never seen a prettier girl before. She’s on Broadway, a world Nick knows next to nothing about. Sure, he’s aware of it, but what he knows doesn’t extend further than the marquees of the theatres. But the brief bit of conversation they have while they wait for their orders makes him want to listen to her for hours. 

“You’re not from here either, right?” she asks, setting the paper cup down on the little table. 

He isn’t sure how he’s managed to rope her into staying for the duration of her coffee, but she’s here and he won’t question it. 

“I’m in a band, we’re just here for two days.” 

Something unreadable skims across her face. He thinks that there’s a little bit of disappointment mixed into it. And he can’t deny that he feels that same sting when he thinks about how unlikely it is that they’ll be more than a chance encounter and a shared cup of coffee. 

Josie asks a million questions. She wants to know what kind of music they make, how he got into it, everything. It’s sweet. 

Nick asks just as many questions. 

“We’re playing a show later tonight. I don’t know if it’s — if that’s your thing, but if you’d like to come —”

“I’m on standby today. I’ll be in the theatre until 11 at least.” She sounds apologetic enough for him to believe that she isn’t just giving him an excuse.

Maybe that’s why he feels brave enough to ask. 

“Would you like to grab something to eat afterwards?” 

Her eyes go wide, and for a brief second Nick thinks that he’s messed it up. But then she smiles, and he finally understands what all that talk about hearts skipping beats is about.

“Oh, I would love that.”

When she returns his phone to him so that he can send her a message, he finds that she’s saved her name with a pink heart behind it. He doesn’t want to let himself hope. He’d rather find himself pleasantly surprised than experiencing yet another let down. 

They part ways shortly afterwards. She hugs him goodbye, and Nick decides that he’ll find a way to make this work. Even if that means that he’ll have to drive up here to see her. 

Nick is admittedly distracted for the rest of the day. She’d texted him the name of the theatre she’s working in so that he can meet her there after the show. Against his usual instincts, Nick had found himself scouring the theatre's website for her name. 

Josephine Barnet 

The name rattles around his brain when they run through the set. So much that he keeps missing his cues. It’s never been like this. Sure, he knows himself to fall quickly when a girl bats her lashes at him like that, but this is a new record even for him. He’s not planning a wedding yet, but he’s not far from it, either. Reality hits when he has to apologise for missing his mark for the tenth time that afternoon. 

Jolly suggests that they take a break and honestly Nick is more than happy to take a moment away. As intriguing as Josie is, he can’t let her take over his mind just yet, not when he doesn’t even know if he’ll see her again after tonight. 

Just as he rounds the corner to the stairs that’ll take him deeper into the belly of the venue, a hand wraps around his bicep. 

“Got a moment?” Ruffilo sounds awfully concerned, and really he gets it. 

He has the decency to wait for the rest of them to wander off before he begins his interrogation, “Is everything okay? Did something happen earlier?” 

A small part of him wants to tell him everything. Nick stops himself before he can start gushing over the pretty girl he bought coffee earlier in the day. Instead, he tells him some half-assed thing about not sleeping well. He does feel a little bad about it, but he doesn’t want to raise his own hopes too high just yet. 

He isn’t sure that Nick is entirely convinced, but he seems to accept the excuse for now. Nick uses the short break to gather himself again. The others rely on him, and he can’t slack like this again. The break seems to be enough to get him back on track again. And when they run through the last few songs, Nick feels as if he’s back where he needs to be. 

He’s glad that they’re busy until the show starts. 

They have things to sign, an interview to give and people to talk to. No time for Nick to drift off into fantasies of that pretty girl. There’s a text from her on his phone when he checks just before the show. 

Are we still good for tonight? 

No change of plans on my part. 

Great! Really looking forward to it! 

The confirmation that he’ll see her again makes him a little dizzy. He can’t stop that first date buzz from settling into his bones. 

Focus. 

He’ll let himself get excited about it once the show is over. Nick gets extra involved in the lead up to the show. He’s double and triple checking his kit just to keep himself busy. He even considers going for a run. Luckily, time seems to be on his side for once, and they’re on stage sooner than he’d thought. 

The show takes his mind off her entirely, but once the last note is played, and they’ve said their goodbyes he’s off to take a shower. He can’t and won’t show up to what could be their first date reeking of sweat. In a way, Nick is glad that he has to rush his way through it all. There’s no time to worry about small things like the fit of his shirt or if his hair sits right. 

He let’s Matt know that he’ll be back late as he flees the venue, narrowly avoiding Noah’s nagging questions. He doesn’t exactly want to hear another concerned question about his behaviour today. Sure, the easiest way to avoid all of it would be to just tell them that he’s meeting someone, but that would make it real and that would mean that he’d have to explain that it ended up being nothing once again.

Josie had told him that she’d come around the front of the theatre. She’s wrapped up in a conversation when he comes up to the building. The scene reminds him of the times they – or rather Noah – been swarmed after shows. Although this seems a lot more tame. She stops him eventually and quickly wraps up her conversation before she comes rushing over to him. 

“I am so sorry.” she sounds a little out of breath, voice just a little rough in a way that reminds him of Noah after a show, “I had to fill in for someone tonight, and it usually gets a little wild after that. I hope you haven’t waited for too long?”

The exhaustion that had previously sat in his muscles and bones fades away when she smiles at him like that.

Nick quickly shakes his head before the whole thing becomes embarrassing. 

“Just got here.” he adds just as quick. 

He doesn’t try to sound nonchalant. Hell, he couldn’t even if he tried. 

Josie looks at him for a long moment, and he cannot for the life of him decipher what’s going through her mind. He doesn’t know her long enough for that, and even worse, he’s never been that good at that anyway. 

“Do you want to head out? There’s a little 24/7 place around here that I go to sometimes.” the soft lilt of her voice breaks through the fog in his head. 

She could read him a phone book, and he’d listen with rapt attention. 

The walk to the diner is filled with questions from her about their show. It’s a nice pace of change to talk about this with someone who seems genuinely interested in the craft side of things. She leads him to a place that looks entirely out of time. The world around it has moved on, but this little palace remained stuck somewhere in the 70s. Through the windows, he can see a handful of patrons stuffed into the booths. 

The conversation doesn’t stop when they find a seat in one of them. The change from topic to topic is comfortable. Nick wants to know everything, he wants to hear about every little thing she has to say, even if that means that they’ll be here for hours. He’ll skip sleep if he has to. The others will ask questions, but it doesn’t matter. 

“I have never even seen a fishing pole in person.” she says with a giggle. 

“I’ll show you one day.” he finds himself replying as if it’s already a done deal. 

And he doesn’t catch the choice of words until he mulls it over again in his head. But when he looks up at her, she’s smiling, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. 

“I’d love that.” 

It’s almost two when they’re out of the door again. And while he does start to feel a little tired, it’s not nearly enough for him to want to part ways just yet. 

They end up in her living room. It’s small and stuffed full of what is clearly second hand furniture. But while the space is anything but bare, it doesn’t feel messy. It’s cosy and lived in, and he feels at home almost immediately. 

The conversation continues to be just as effortless as it had been before, and it almost feels as if he’s known her for years. The longer they sit together like this, the closer Josie scoots to him. She’s touchy. Usually, Nick doesn’t enjoy it too much when people get too touchy with him like this when he doesn’t know them well, but when Josie’s hand touches against his knee again, he cannot deny that it sends a shock of warmth up his spine. The warmth of her palm seeps into his skin. She’s telling him about her time abroad, about her own touring experiences, and it feels so good to know that she understands the stress that comes with it. 

The minutes trickle by, and before Nick knows it, his phone buzzes with one notification after another. When he finally checks the time on his phone, it’s nearing five, and Matt sounds surprisingly worried about his whereabouts. 

Josie apologises profusely for keeping him up for so long, but he can’t bring himself to be upset about it. How could he be upset when he hasn’t felt this comfortable with another person in ages. She’s adamant that he should take an Uber back to the hotel, and she doesn’t accept his no when he says that he’ll pay for it himself. 

“I kept you up, let me do something.” 

He doesn’t try to argue with her after that. 

Saying goodbye feels harder than it should, considering that he’s only spent a couple of hours with her. Josie wraps him into a tight hug when it’s time for them to actually part ways. The soft, sweet scent of her perfume wraps itself around his mind. Against his better judgement, Nick lets the feeling of her pressed against his chest ingrain itself into his brain, just in case he doesn’t get to feel this again. 

“Do you think that I could see you again some time?” Nick asks, and his heart is pounding at a thousand miles a minute. 

She nods immediately, “You said you’d teach me how to fish, and I’m going to hold you to that.” 

God, he wants to lean over and kiss her. 

“Good. We’ll figure out a time and day.” 

Josie nods so eagerly, “In the meantime, is it okay if I keep texting you?” 

She sounds so awfully hesitant and shy, and Nick hopes that he hasn’t given her the feeling that she can’t do that. 

“Of course. You gotta let me know how that casting goes.” 

He tries so hard to memorise how her eyes light up at his reply. He’ll do whatever he has to make this work, even if that means coming up here more often than he’d like. 

Nick texts her just as the Uber pulls up to the hotel to let her know that he’s made it back safely. He also lets Matt know that he’s back and prepares himself for the litany of curses that is about to rain down on him. He knows that it’s genuine worry, even if it always sounds like anger with Matt. It matters little, though, not when he has what is objectively the prettiest girl he’s seen texting him about how she’d love to take a coffee into the studio today but will have to get a new to-go cup before she can do that.  

Nick orders a new one while he’s still on the way up to his floor. It’ll show up on her doorstep tomorrow with a note that once again tries to proclaim just how sorry he is for that one.

[lookingfts]

You are amazing!

All these bonus snippets have been such a treat

Have we heard anything from Like I see you Kanthony? They're one of my favs and I need to know how many times they've had sex at Kate's office

Thank you!

Also please know that I’m still working through my asks. I have at least two dozen unanswered ones, and every time I answer one, I get three more lol. So if I haven’t responded to yours yet, I will get to it when I have a chance!

*sexy snippet below*

Come let me in.

It takes a second for Kate to process his text. She checks her watch – it’s a little after seven, and there are still a handful of people in the office, preparing for a big corporate case.

She grabs her badge and heads downstairs, swiping him in. The tension seeps out of her body at the sight of her boyfriend, holding a bag of takeout from the sushi place she loves.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kate sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a sweet, lingering kiss. “But thank you.”

He cracks a crooked grin. “I had fully selfish motives. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she admits, scrunching up her face at how utterly sappy she’s gotten since they started dating. They both have demanding jobs, and some weeks their schedules don’t align all that well, though they try their best to make time for each other. “Do you want to eat in my office?”

“Yeah.” Kate takes him to her floor, and he says hi to several of her coworkers on the way, asking them about their families or their hobbies. He really can charm anyone and everyone.

They eat at her desk, chatting about their days and her case, and it’s exactly what she needed. For the first time all day, she feels relaxed and happy. Somewhere along the line, Anthony has become her favorite person.

He earns that designation even more when he cleans up the remnants of the food and comes up behind her chair, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. Kate practically melts into the touch, a soft sigh falling from her lips. “You’re so tense, honey.”

“I’ve just been sitting for too long,” she says, rubbing her hand over his muscular forearm. “God, that feels good.”

Anthony digs his thumbs into her shoulders, loosening the tightness there, and the sigh turns into more of a moan. He’s so talented with his hands.

He works her over like that for a while, until her body starts to unwind and release. Gently brushing her hair aside, he presses a kiss to her neck, then another, and she shivers. “Anthony…”

“I can help you,” he whispers in her ear, nipping at the lobe, and Kate realizes that he remembers her fantasy of getting fucked at work. Offering to make it a reality.

“I don’t-,” Kate pants as he sucks a bruise into her neck. “There are other people here.”

Anthony’s hand wanders lower, cupping her breast as he teases a hard nipple between his fingers. “Your door is locked. No one can see. You just need to try really hard to be quiet.”

That condescending motherfucker. It shouldn’t turn her on as much as it does, it really shouldn’t.

She wants it. Wants him so badly she can’t breathe. But Kate knows she can’t let go on her own. “I need…” she breathes as he pinches her nipple. “I need…”

“You need me to make you?” he growls, low and filthy.

Kate shudders. “Yes.”

Suddenly, his hands leave her, and Kate nearly whimpers at the loss. He spins her chair to the side, getting on his knees, his eyes pitch black as he looks up at her. “Cover your mouth, baby. You don’t need your coworkers to know what a little slut you are when I’m fucking you.”

Clasping a hand over her lips, she moans at the degradation. Kate lifts her hips as he tugs her damp knickers down her legs, immediately stuffing them into the pocket of his trousers. She won’t be getting those back, she already knows.

Spreading her thighs apart, Anthony gazes at her bare cunt under her skirt, shaking his head. “You’re so wet, Kate. You’re lucky I showed up. You’ve just been sitting here trying to work when what you really needed was to come home and let me take care of this needy little cunt.”

She gets impossibly wetter at that, and Anthony clearly notices, licking his lips. “Please,” Kate whispers, laying back in the chair. “Please, your mouth.”

“What about my mouth?”

Fuck, he’s going to make her say it. Anthony has always demanded her desires in explicit detail, but it feels especially wanton here, in the place where she has worked so hard to be taken seriously.

“Suck on my clit,” she says, her voice breathy but firm. “And put three fingers inside me.”

Anthony grins wickedly, swinging her right leg over his shoulder to hold her open and lowering his head. The first swipe of his tongue feels like lightning, searing through her body, and she puts her hand back in place to muffle her shaky cry.

He does exactly as she asks, laving her clit with his velvet soft mouth as he stretches her open on two fingers, slowly working in a third. Kate feels equal parts vulnerable and powerful, all soft and sloppy around his fingers, but with the most beautiful man in the world on his knees for her.

She’s so fucking full like this, his thick fingers claiming every empty space inside her, crooking to rub the spot that makes her leak arousal all over his hand. Anthony sucks her clit forcefully, keeping his eyes locked on hers, never breaking the contact. Kate thinks she’ll pass out at the sight of his perfect face buried in her cunt, at the clear pleasure he gets from worshipping her like this.

Kate has no choice but to come, hard, wetness slicking his chin as he greedily laps her up. Her walls squeeze Anthony’s fingers tight, and they both moan at the sensation.

Delicately, he pulls out of her as she slumps against the chair, gasping for breath. His hands run over her thighs, smearing arousal on her skin until she’s painted in it. “What the fuck,” she pants, at a loss for any other words.

“You needed that so bad,” Anthony murmurs, digging his nails into her thighs. “That’s my fault. I knew you were stressed at work. Needed me to fix it for you.”

He’s hard in his trousers, tenting rather obviously, and Kate aches for him. She’s as greedy as he is, wants to be filled up, consumed, controlled. Wants her pleasure forced out of her.

“Fuck me,” she begs, running her hand through his disheveled hair. “Bend me over my desk and make me take it.”

Anthony groans loudly against her thigh, sinking his teeth into the fragile flesh there. He’s utterly gorgeous like this, all blown pupils and swollen lips, staring at her like he wants to destroy her.

“Get on the fucking desk,” he orders, voice hoarse from the effort of staying quiet. Kate stands on shaky legs, carefully moving her laptop and her papers to the side. She rucks her skirt up around her waist as she leans over the desk, all open and exposed to him, her head resting against her arm.

His fingers dance along the swell of her arse, a pleased noise coming from his throat as he strokes her soft skin. Then they dip lower, teasing her wet folds, and Kate whines into her arm.

“So pretty,” Anthony praises, teasing her clit. “You’ve never done this with anyone else, have you? But you can’t help spreading your legs. Your little cunt knows it was made for me.”

Tears prick her eyes at the force of her need. He’s right. It’s only ever been him that can make her body respond like this, break down all her walls and drive her out of her mind. “Please,” she whimpers. “I love you, please.”

That’s the key; it always has been, ever since the first time she whispered it against his skin while he was fucking her slowly and tenderly in his bed. More than her submission, more than her screams of pleasure, he wants her confessions of love.

“I love you too,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Stay quiet, honey.”

He fucks right into her, trusting that she’s wet and relaxed enough to take him all the way. And she does, easily, her body rocking forward with the motion as she muffles her moans.

He fucks her, and she takes it. Willingly, eagerly, pushing back against him as much as he’ll let her. Anthony lays one hand on her upper back to keep her down, the other in a harsh grip on her hip, and Kate thinks she could happily die like this.

“Pull my hair,” she moans, and Anthony immediately gathers up her loose curls in his fist and tugs. The pain-pleasure at her scalp makes her feel delirious, and her orgasm is so close she can taste it on her tongue.

Distantly, she realizes that the desk is scraping against the floor, and she hopes to god that everyone else has already left. Though it’s an open secret that several of her coworkers are hooking up, and likely doing so in the office, so she doesn’t think they would rat her out even if they could hear.

She grips the edge as Anthony pounds her into the desk and then she’s shattering again, gushing onto him, keening his name. Anthony makes a rough noise and comes inside her, a welcome warmth between her thighs as her body fully relaxes.

Anthony sits in her chair, pulling her into his lap. Kate curls up against his chest, face tucked into his neck, finding a warmth and security in his arms that she doesn’t think she’s ever felt anywhere else.

“Better?” he asks, sliding his arms around her waist and holding her tight.

“So much better,” Kate sighs, nuzzling his neck. “Let’s just stay here for a while, and then you can take me home.”

[rist-ix]

https://www.tumblr.com/rist-ix/749015401700229120 not you reblogging this when you ship bloom with the man who murdered her family 😭

Bloom's into ppl who slay! Hope this helps :3

[museenkuss]

Hi ladies have you heard of putting garlic in dishes? Game changer.

[queenangella]

sometimes working together on a thesis is like *she cant do her tasks because she’s busy with following classes I guess there’s really nothing else she does* me: oh its fine I get it I’m busy too sometimes you know if I can help you with anything let me know:)) vs. *I can’t do all my tasks on time bc well i work six days in a week and spend three nights a week doing volunteer work and oh because my thesis partner is apparently once again busy with following classes I guess she dumped all her work on my lap* she: oh you should tell me next time if you’re busy cause these tasks are really important :/ you shouldn’t like let them wait so long

[deus-ex-mona]

let’s enjoy the moon, i guess?

[lilgynt]

my dad called me his guardian angel and that i have more patience than my mom and i know i told myself he just says shit but like that actually helped cause same day he was like i do not want to be alone with you and ur crazy so like. that did help a lot!

[madigoround]

Sorry I stay complaining

[fingertipsmp3]

Things I will be answering for on judgement day: I double checked my own TooGoodToGo order went through and I had for sure reserved a bag before I let my friend know our favourite bakery has surprise bags today

[lunacornfan2k24]

How can I say that my adult sister is spoiled without sounding like a bitch?