#I drink real fucking slow and it’s very nice

[tan1shere]

Bent Over

Ellie williams x female reader !

A/n: YES ANOTHER AM SONG INSPIRED FIC !! but I was listening to teddy picker and the lyrics are just 🤌🏻 and I ofc had to do this with Els cuz she fits Arctic Monkeys the best

Summary: you have to go out for a small family dinner with your girlfriend, Joel, Maria, and Tommy.

Warnings: smut ! Mdni. Bratty reader ? The reader just doesn't give up on trying to tease Ellie. Soft dom Ellie yall !!! 🥰 (I'm so obsessed with soft doms oh my) sub reader, oral (r receiving) swearing ?? Orgasm denial - think that's it <3

Masterlist

You wouldn't consider yourself a very fancy person, but considering you and Ellie had only been going out for 4 months, it was probably about time you met some of her family. The flowy black dress that hug your curves was gorgeous, you had to admit but you weren't use to it at all. Even tho this was Ellies family she still wanted to dress right. She had a lovely suit on. Its one thing you loved about her, how comfortable she was. It's not that you didn't feel comfortable in this dress, you loved it. You hardly got to wear them. You just felt a little unusual. "You look-" Ellie couldn't find the correct words. Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning? She wanted to use them all quite frankly.

"Els you look even prettier." You say sweetly, going over, fixing her tie and her hair just a little. "Youre perfect." She blurts out. And thats all it took to ease all those nerves in you. You had made a plan not to drink too much tonight either. Lightweight was an understatement, one drink and you were gone. So you had to be careful you couldn't fuck this up. Especially when you could get a bit intense when you were drunk, even a little bratty. So it was a must that you didn't do that infront of them.

You and Ellie had arrived to the restaurant not too long after. Seeing, Joel, Tommy, and Maria already there and seated. "Sorry if we are a bit late." Ellie says apologetically, hugging Joel first. "We were just early kiddo, no need to be sorry." He says hugging back. "Well guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n." She says motioning for you to go over. You give them a smile, giving each a polite hug. "It's nice to finally meet you." Maria smiles. "It's nice to meet you all too." You begin to sit down looking at the menu. "Ellie wouldn't stop braggin 'bout you, didn't even know if you were real." Tommy states, to which Ellie kicks his foot under the table. "Ow-" "But it's so good to finally meet you hun." Joel gives a kind smile. You return it but your attention turns to Ellies you could tell she wanted this to go smoothly.

The drinks were coming around, and it's not like you weren't going to have atleast one. Ellies mistake, which she was going to do was monitor it. When she soon saw how fast you were drinking on your second one her eyes widened, grabbing it and setting it down. "Slow down there babe." She whispers slightly, then giving you quite the look. You blink slightly, hadn't even realized the pace you were going at. Oops. "So Y/n, how long have you been living here." Maria asks, to which your beginning tipsy self, didn't hear. "Ehem." Ellie coughs out, bringing you to reality again. "Oh- pardon, uhm since I was about 2." You smile at her. "And have you always lived around here?" Tommy pipes up. "It differs, I haven't lived around here my whole life but different areas." You go for another sip of your drink.

That feeling started to creep up on you, and you hadn't really shown it. Making Ellie oblivious. But you had no control over your next move. Your hand moves to hers that's resting on her thigh, you go to grab it placing it on yours instead. Normal right? Until you smirk slightly. Your hand moves up, and up- "Ellie?" Joel inquires as she suddenly chokes slightly on her food. "Im good I'm good." She gives him a reassuring smile. "But you're not. - Y/n. Stop it." Ellie whispers in your ear, trying to get you to stop drinking anymore, you knew you'd hate yourself tomorrow. She looks at you, her whispering got lower. You just shrug. "Don't." She mouths. But that only made you want to do it more.

Next move was to put your own hand on her thigh, it flexes as soon as she feels it. She lets out an annoyed breath. "How's everyone's food?" Tommy then asks. "I love mine." You say in the most sickly sweet voice. This makes Ellie bite her cheek. "A word?" She begins to get up, grabbing your hand. "Excuse me, you guys. I forgot to ask her something before we left." They all nod. "Alright babygirl, take your time." Joel gives a sweet smile yet again.

"What the hell are you doing." She speaks, all too calmly for your liking, figuring she'd be more pissed off. You knew that's not how Ellie was. She never had to yell to get you to shut up. "Huh?" You think. "I dunno." You smile at her. "You just look so good Els." She scoffs slightly. "Behave." She goes to walk away. "Well maybe you should've kept an eye out." Her movements still, she doesn't say a word. Uh oh. You shut up for a second til her head turns. "Hey baby?" You hum. "Dont be surprised when you get bent over."

Your hands scramble to grip the couch. "I-" She tuts. "Nuh uh, you started this pretty girl. Why don't we just finish it." You go to sit back up but that was clearly no use. "This is basically your fault." You speak, voice muffled by the cushion. Her laugh echoes throughout your guys living room. "Oh, baby, baby baby. I wasn't the one making a fool of myself was I? Hmm?" You stay silent, unable to find the words, as you feel her hand come in between your thighs. Your mouth hangs open slightly. They squeeze together, making her hum. "I told you, but you were dying for it-" "No, i-" her finger slips inside your underwear, slipping into your entrance making you shut right up. "What was that?" Her tone was soft, but her intentions were definitely the opposite. "Nothing, I swear." You let your eyes shut, letting out a slight moan as her finger goes deeper.

"That's what I thought." Then all of a sudden her finger was gone. And just like that, she had you wrapped around her finger. You curse at yourself but it turned you on more how easily she could shut you up. It was hot nonetheless. You sit up, facing her now. Grabbing onto her collar and bringing her in for a kiss. Falling backwards her hands land beside your head, keeping her upright. The kiss got more heated by the second. You slowly begin to grind up into her, knowing she can't resist you. "God you're foul." She smirks against your lips. It only transfers to your lips, but wider. "Know you love me." She just shakes her head, that smirk never leaving.

Her hands pin yours above your head so effortlessly, keeping that kiss going. Until she moves to your neck, then lower. Reaching your cleavage. Her soft fingers go for the straps of your dress and pull them off your shoulders. They move down to the bottom, getting a good grip and tugging it off you. Your nipples harden at the cool air. Ellie bites her lip slightly. "This should be fun." That confused you tons. But oh boy were you not ready for what she had in store.

"Ellie.." You breathe out as you arch your back. "Hmm?" She was antagonizing you. The need to cum had been relentless and she denied it everytime. You were overstimulated to the max, making her enjoy eating you out for the longest time. "Do you know how much-" Suck. "I fucking love you and-" Suck. "This God damn pussy." Your head falls back at her words, her movements. "Ellie just please!" Your begging voice only turned Ellie on more. Her face comes into view. She gives you a fake pout. "But my baby, why should I?" Her smirk was evident and she was awful at hiding it. "Please Ellie just let me cum please." You finally felt slight tears at how desperately you craved it.

Bingo. "Alright, ok. I suppose-" You sit up so fast giving her a look. But it subsides as she almost pulls off all together. Your eyes turn pleading. "You can cum baby, I promise." And Ellie never, broke a promise. You let out a breath of relief as her tongue gets back to work. "F-fuck!" You scream out as you felt your most likely 4th orgasm of that night. But finally she was going to give you that relief. And God did her tongue do absolute wonders. She knew how to get you squirming. "Come on baby, I got you. Let go."

Your breathing was increasing, moans, whimpers were all that could be heard. "Ellie-" You gasp as you feel her fingers enter you. "You're so tight. Fuck." Her words only encourage you more. "Fuck, Ellie!" She hums against you, and youre seeing stars. "There you go good girl, cum on my tongue. Just like that." Your eyes flutter close as you finally do so. Feeling so worn out as you slowly come down from your high. There was some silence as she sat back up. "Gotta say. You were the yummiest thing I had tonight." She smirks down at your tired figure. You let out a dry laugh, having no energy but still finding her funny.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Els."

[simpjaes]

enha as camboys and the content they would stream 😁

hyung line + being cam boys

★ heeseung:

absolutely no solo shows but will take your money if you want a private show where he dirty talks you and gets off with you. fr the only time you'll see him fucking himself is if you're on the other end wishing it was you to his face and telling him exactly how bad you want him. other than that, he's got a new guest every week, fucks them to near stars, and then finishes off by moaning real nice and pretty with his cumshot so he gets more tips. additionally, he only fucks other big cam stars to boost his analytics. he's very open irl about what he does, and will 100% fuck all of his private hook-ups as if he's on camera. to the point he probs seems suuuper selfish in bed.

☆ jay:

would probably cam for the money as a side job but be pretty casual with it. it's not his main source of income but he has a small following of fans that he obsesses over in secret bc like....woah, ppl actually want him this badly? cool! i think he's the type to take requests because he wouldn't really know what to do aside from fuck into his fist with a roll of toilet paper next to him. the good thing about that is? he's open to trying new things if you pay him enough, and will only do private shows with the fans who he thinks he could actually date irl bc he's emotional as hell about sex on the down low.

i think as he grows in popularity he would find his fun in various sex toys and dolls, probably would do jerk-off instructions for women using said dolls and toys. i'm talking, eating it out, telling them when and where to touch using the doll so they can pretend it's them, and then fucking it til he cums :D

★ jake:

100% doing requests and will moan the name of the highest bidder solely to make other viewers jealous so they tip higher next time. fr, everyone wants him to moan their name and it's probably like, his thing. like that's why people join his streams. of course it's also to watch him double fist his cock before begging out for anyone to drink his cum, it's also to watch on those days where he's particularly dominant and degrading everyone watching him while he works himself up. always something new on his stream, always a different name he moans, and fucking always private shows one after the other, pumping his cum out so often that he's practically trained himself to constantly be horny.

it pays his bills tho fr, who doesn't wanna just cum all day to the people who wish they could lick it up for him?

☆ sunghoon:

this man streams art. he's probably wearing some hot outfit, keeps his face out of frame, doesn't speak but only moans, and ultimately makes everyone wish he was their boyfriend. makes himself seem attainable, sometimes very vanilla, fucking just his fist and making it feel like a privilege just to watch, other times going all out with a toy, finger fucking it really good before doing long and slow strokes until he's getting off into it.

he'd never admit to people that he enjoys the work either, especially because he'd appear so professional on the outside. omg imagine if like, his coworker was one of his viewers and booked a private call, only for him to hear your voice and get soooooooooooo turned on knowing who you are, and wondering how he will face you the next day..........ok i got off track.

anyway, sunghoon anonymous boyfriend with a huge dick that fucks just the way women want. to the point they actually dm him their address.

[lucimaaie]

dream girl ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - the universe is determined to put you and ellie together, nevermind her fear.

warning - i wrote this in sept and was kind of watching good trouble at the time so that's why r has like backstory, random ass side characters, and stuff, I dunno what I was on when I wrote this so just run with it y'all, i made this long for no reason (shh 3k is a lot to me), it also occurred to me that im not good at slow burn so this aint that even if it is an attempt

also credit to @sister-lucifer for the dividers

playlist | spidey masterlist

You'd been missing from class a few times after Ellie saved you. She thought about visiting your house, but that was too creepy. Creepier than drawing you. Checking in with your dad was an option up until she realized they’d only recently formed a truce. Finally, she landed on a coffee.

The plan still had flaws: Ellie hated coffee herself and yet she knew your exact order from overhearing it. It was super-hearing’s fault not hers. She’d do it anyway, and add a cute drawing of you. It was normal, right?

Ellie bounced her knee as she watched you walk into class and slip into the front desk. Jesse sat next to her. Did she forget to erase her initials? She was supposed to do that.

“Talk to dream girl yet?”

“Shut it.” She opened her notebook. “And she’s not my dream girl.” She had dreamed of you once and Jesse wouldn’t let her forget about it.

“You don’t gotta lie to me.”

She didn’t have to look at him to imagine the grin on his face. “One day, when you least expect it. I swear.” She shook her head as she went back to watching you.

Ellie was like a deer in headlights when you looked back at her, holding up the coffee cup with a smile. “Thank you.” You mouthed.

She gave a nod, hoping her smile came off nonchalant. “Fuck.” She mumbled as you looked away. She did not erase her initials.

Ellie felt like a coward for not sticking around after class. Especially when it was in an attempt to avoid you. Dick move, but cut her some slack. She expected anonymity.

All this to say she wasn’t expecting a coffee cup on her desk the next day. Someone was about to be very disappointed, she thought as she sat down. She shrugged off Jesse's remark about her having a secret admirer. “Boo.” She whispered-yelled at him.

She cringed right before the liquid hit her tongue. She hissed at the burning sensation before preparing herself to take a second sip. It wasn’t coffee, it was some kind of tea. Sweet too. She sat back to look at the wrapper around the cup, which she could’ve done first thing and avoid the possibility of being roofied by a serial killer, but least she was now.

‘I didn’t know what you like but I know you never drink coffee. thank you for last week!’ There it was: Message and initials in that pretty handwriting she’d seen when she reluctantly asked to borrow notes. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to you, surprised to see you looking right back. She raised her brows, not knowing what to do as you smiled at her. Maybe smile back you idiot! She let a natural a smile as she could grace her face as she mouthed a thanks.

The absence of your eyes allowed her to revel in what just happened. That was until she could feel Jesse glaring at her. “Don’t even.” She mumbled into her hands. “But you saw that too?”

“It’s almost like I've been telling you she might, probably does, like you back.”

“She doesn’t. She’s just being nice.” Ellie took another sip. Her eyes lingered on the note as she pulled out her notebook. It wasn’t lost on her how obsessed she looked if you were to flip through her notes. Lucky for her, you never asked. “I'm not gonna read into it. At all.” Safer that way.

“Won’t have to if you make something happen for real this time.”

“Let’s talk about your love life for once.”

“Alive and well, thank you very much.”

“What? That’s all I get?” Ellie scoffed. “You stick your nose into mine all the time!”

“We’re not talking about me.” Jesse sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. She huffed, flipping to a new page as her eyes traveled from him to you. You were as oblivious to your effect on her as always.

Ellie had dozed off. She was nudged into consciousness by Jesse. As much as she wanted to grumble and go right back into dreamland, she could see how much she missed just by the sheer number of words on the board. Tiny, tiny words.

The words coming out of the professor's mouth were pure gibberish as her sleepy senses zeroed in on you. "Ow!" Another nudge from Jesse, telling her to pay attention to anything other than you for once.

It took all of three seconds for her to hear the two words she dreaded: Group project. What normal person would be excited to do a presentation over economics? The better question was what normal professor thought she wanted to do that, but she leaned forward as she listened for the pairs.

She froze as she heard her name and yours in the same sentence. As a pair, doing the project together.. Ellie swung her bag over her shoulder as she pretended to search for where you sat. She was careful not to bump into anything as she settled into the newly vacant spot next to you.

"Hi," You said in that kind voice she'd always managed to pick out above all other noise any time she heard it.

"Hey," Ellie dropped her backpack. "Ellie, back row." She inwardly cringed at the words left her mouth. She didn't need to introduce herself; You'd known her enough about her to get her a drink, which made her hope that meant you were looking at her as long as she'd been looking at you. Or not, in the event that she did something humiliating she didn’t remember.

"I know your name." you smiled. "Did you like it?” She glanced down at your hand pointing to the cup in her hand. "I didn't know what you like and not everyone likes coffee so.."

"Oh, yeah. I..don't usually drink tea, but you surprised me." She tapped her fingers against the cup as you rested your head in your hand, eyes attentive though she was saying nothing important. "How are you feeling? After the..thing a few days ago."

"You know about that? I’m okay, it was just a few bruises and soreness."

"Uh, I listen to a podcast. Better than the news, less boring. I'm..I'm glad you're okay." She tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at the blank space of the table.

"So, after we pick a topic, I was thinking we could head to the library and keep working after class." Her eyes drifted back to you, taking in the way you shifted into a certain level of focus she lacked at the moment. That was something she always admired about you. "Unless, you have work or something more important."

"Oh, no! I'm free, not busy at all." Stop talking.

"Great!" You said with a friendly smile. "Wanna go?"

"Yeah, we can go."

Once you got to the library it had finally set in to Ellie that she had to behave with some degree of normalcy. It’d be embarrassing if she made it any more obvious how much a crush she had  you. 

“Oh, I forgot to ask you about your number.” You picked up your phone and went to the contacts, pressing new contact. “Just in case you or I can’t make it, stuff like that.” Ellie’s hand was gentle in taking your phone and typing in her number, afraid the sweat on her hands would blur the text on the screen. 

“I should be able to make it.” She said, needing something to do besides nod at your every word like an idiot.  

“Great.” You flashed her another friendly smile. 

Time had gone by relatively slow. Few words were exchanged as you worked on a shared template, putting in information neither of you cared for. Eventually, your computers were pushed aside in boredom.  

“I can’t read any more about supply and demand or my brain’s gonna implode.” Ellie rubbed her eyes. She was starting to wish she enjoyed coffee so she could reap the benefits.  

“Thank god, I’m not the only one.” You shut your computer abruptly with force. Ellie did the same with care not to destroy the thing. “I hate this class and the professor. He doesn’t teach, like, at all and then expects twenty slide presentations.” You rambled, dropping the sweetness she had come to know you for. Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, it’s..the caffeine or something.” 

“I’ll bet. Your go-to has a million pumps of caramel syrup in it coupled with an extra shot, just so you can still taste the coffee.” Tiredness had wore down Ellie’s usual anxiety. She hadn’t even noticed she teased you until your face morphed into shock at being called out. 

“I didn’t know you noticed that, but then again you were so nice to save me six dollars.”  

“Outrageous price, by the way.” 

“That tea you liked so much this morning was the same price so,” 

“Welp,” Ellie threw her hands up. You both shared a laugh.  

“Let’s get out of here.” You said suddenly, crossing your arms just to lean forward. “I can’t stand the quiet anymore or this pointless project.” Ellie knew what you meant but that didn’t stop her mind from going to different places.

Stop it, you idiot!  “Agreed”  

Ellie had managed to pull her weight despite inwardly panicking around you. It didn’t help when you looked at her the way you did.

The workload was getting lighter and left more time for you to get off topic and talk about anything that came to your minds. Ellie couldn't pinpoint the moment she'd transition from not believing you were talking to her to not wanting to stop. Probably somewhere around the you exchanged numbers for the sake of project neither of you were worried much about.

She was satisfied, or rather she'd tried to convince herself she was, with just texting back and forth as friends. She decided she'd shove her feelings deep down, eliminating the worry of ruining your newfound friendship or putting you in danger. Ellie was okay as the friend, as long as she was close to you.

Ellie leaned against the rough brick wall of your apartment building a she waited for you come out. The soft material on the inside of her jacket gave her enough of a distraction until she heard the screech of the door. “Hey,” A smiled immediately appeared on her face as she took in how you drowned in your adorably festive sweater.

“Okay, before you come in, I wanna let you know my friends are weird. They don’t know boundaries but I promise they're really nice—“

“You were serious about the communal living thing?”

“Ellie!”

“I’m just asking!”

“C’mon, you.” Ellie’s heart jumped as you shamelessly laced your fingers with hers, dragged her along into the rustic building. Her wandering eyes were something like a kid in toy store, instead of an overly decorated lobby. The decorations were gaudy but homey, nonetheless.

She became self-conscious that her hands were becoming clammy as you continued to hold her hand, squeezing it every once in a while. “Just remember, they’re trying their best to be normal.”

“And..what’s not normal?”

“Jan bringing in random rescues, V keeping us up because she’s ‘running her lines’, Jade never leaving her room except to tell us our rent is due, and Winn never not having a friend over, but he's having a midlife crisis so." You shrugged. "Pretty normal stuff.”

“And you all share a bathroom..and stuff?”

“It’s the best I could get.” You said sheepishly as the elevator opened. She could immediately see what you were talking about the moment you started to struggle with the stubborn elevator gate. Her hand was soft in grabbing your wrist. "I got it."

“You clearly haven’t seen my shitbox I call an apartment. This is fine.” She remarked as she opened the rusted gates without much effort. Her eyes landed on even more Christmas decorations.

“If you’ll let me work my magic, it won’t be a shitbox.” You looped your arm around hers.

“You will never look at me the same. I'm serious. It's a disaster. A dumpster fire, really." It became easier to put down the worth of her apartment as she saw how filled out your building was just from the hallway. Even the scattered belongings had a way of telling anyone who came in that everyone who lived there was proud to. She couldn't lie, the closer you got to the dining room, that too you shared of course, she was sweating bullets. That's what it felt like at least.

"I can handle a dumpster fire."

Ellie's head turned back to you, eyes softening at the sincerely at your words. You were not making this any easier on her. She could wait out a crush. If she hadn't known you these past few weeks, she would've forced herself to get over it, but that hadn't been the case. "Hey, before we go in, i wanna thank you for all..this. You didn't have to invite me."

"I wanted to." You said simply.

"Why?"

"I don't know. No one should have to spend the holidays alone. Definitely not you, especially you." You poked her shoulder.

"What's so special about me?" She mumbled. That was not supposed to come out.

"That a serious question?" It didn't make sense in her mind, your interest in her. Shad no time to formulate a response when a short blonde girl came in with a bowl in her hand and muffled words coming out of her mouth. "Guess that's our cue." You smiled, tugging on her hand.

"Why the hell are you eating straight cranberry sauce?" Your words were fuzzy to Ellie as you took the bowl from the girl's hand. She was too in her mind to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

She was hugged by a few people, all of which had nothing in common but living in the same building. Sat down by an older man she could only assume was Winn and fed until she felt her stomach could pop. Given a lecture on method acting from jade.

There was a point where she ran into being questioned by a few of them. The quippy, confident version of her was nowhere to be seen then and replaced with a stammering, blanking mess. Fortunately, you covered for her.

Ellie stared at the city with a full belly, leaning back on the less than stable lawn chairs on the side of the rooftop pool. The heated debates behind her served as background noise to the glimmering light and commotion New York provided. She took a sip of her beer. Her head turned towards you in the doorframe.

"Overwhelmed yet?"

"I wouldn't say that." She said with feigned coyness, sitting up to see you better.

"I wouldn't be mad. Or blame you."

" They do have a weird sense of...hospitality?"

"Hospitality is a word." You smiled, amused as you looked up at nowhere at all.

"At least that's the word I landed on." She shrugged.

"Well, you obviously haven't even used the bathrooms yet." You looked down at her with that smile she loved seeing. You took a seat on the chair next to her.

"Why do you think I’ve been sipping everything?" Ellie’s eyes never left you as you laughed in unison. She could've swore your smile melted into something shy. You never seemed shy at all. Or you were damn good at hiding it.

"Hey." Ellie hummed in response. "I’ve got something for you."

Her brows raised as you brought out a little blue box from behind you. The ribbon was crooked but tied by you, she could tell. "You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to. I promise I don't do anything I don't want to. Now, take it. Please? For me." You held up the tiny box like a offering in your hands. Her eyes moved from your face to the small box.

"Alright, fine. You don't have to beg." She inspected the cute little ribbon before carefully undoing it.

"Damn near,"

"Oh shut it." She glared up at you as she took the top off the box. As she looked down, the attitude slipped off her face. It was a camera as tiny as the box decorated with little savage starlight stickers.

“It’s not much, but I know you’re artsy and I figured maybe photography would be a nice hobby.” You scooted to the edge of your chair. “Also, it might be nice to have pictures of our first date.”

Her head snapped up to look at you, biting your lip in anticipation. “You’re asking me on a date?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I do want to.”

“You do?”

“I’ve wanted to for a while. i didn’t think you noticed.” Ellie flipped the camera in her hands, running her fingers along the mini stickers of the superhero. She wanted so badly to be on that date right now, taking pictures of everything so the memory would always be fresh in her mind.

“How long’s a while?” Your voice was quiet against the howling of the cold air, but in a way it felt intimate how close and quiet you were. There was gleam in your eyes from the fairy lights surrounding the patio area.

“If I answer that, will you still wanna go on a date with me?" Her eyes were almost pleading as she looked back up at you.

"I asked." You leaned even closer, allowing Ellie’s eyes roamed your face under the dim light. When she realized she was caught staring, she averted her eyes as she pressed her lips into a barely contained smile.

The moment was once again interrupted by jade. The girl stood with an empty pot, asking you where it would go. Your shoulders slumped a degree before you went into the kitchen with the young girl. "You could've asked Winn, hun.”

Ellie took that as her cue to get going. She took a sip of the now warm beer and grabbed her gloves. Her eyes were glued to you as always as she made her way to the elevator.

Knowing you wouldn't let her leave without a goodbye, she leaned against the gate for no more than a minute. As expected, you came around the corner with a smile and a few plates in your hand. Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes landed on the stack of foiled plates. "You’re making me feel bad, y'know that?" She leaned her head on yours as you wrapped your arms around her.

"You can make it up to me on..saturday."

"Saturday?"

"That’s the day."

Ellie’s eyes widened, realizing you were serious. Some part of her thought you’d forget all about it a few days later and she’d look like the desperate one bringing it up. leave it to you to prove her assumptions wrong. "Got it." She was still dazed as you leaned up to kiss her cheek and close the gate for her. Her biting her lip couldn’t stop her from cheesing as the events of the night finally set in. She was doomed.

thank you for reading!

[hunnylagoon]

When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen 

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 

-

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

[monzabee]

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion &lt;3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s –  although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively  and literally on the track. 

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.  

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet. 

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides. 

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours. 

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…” 

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck. 

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants. 

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment. 

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.” 

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice. 

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises. 

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.” 

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands. 

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?” 

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?” 

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.” 

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.” 

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.” 

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac. 

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.” 

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.” 

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones. 

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern. 

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy. 

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.” 

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.” 

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.” 

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.” 

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.” 

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair. 

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.” 

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss. 

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. ���My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests. 

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.” 

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.” 

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.” 

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me. 

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you. 

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.” 

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?” 

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!” 

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.” 

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?” 

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?” 

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.” 

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.” 

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to. 

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much. 

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?” 

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his. 

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.” 

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.” 

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.” 

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.” 

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.” 

[creedslove]

I was thinking about Joel working hard to buy a small gift for you until he finds a heart-shaped locket but he's embarrassed because he thinks you deserve something much better, he smuggles what he can and comes home tired but a little excited to give you the detail.

He cried the day you showed him that you put a photo of him in the locket, he hugged you very tightly, burying his face between your neck and shoulder while he tried not to make his crying sound so loud

while you petted his wavy grey hair.

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg baby, I am screaming and crying and throwing up at this wonderful idea, it's beautiful, lovely and sooo accurate because I'm sure this is how Joel would act underneath his rough exterior 😭

• it took Joel so long to admit how important you were to him, his true feelings for you, instead of just shrugging off and pretending he didn't care about you at all, he battled himself really hard in order to come clean with his own feelings

• but from the moment he finally admitted and allowed his old broken heart to beat faster for you, suddenly, you were the only thing that mattered to him, even if life was shit and neither of you had any perspective of future, he would die and kill for you and you knew it

• he often orbited from thinking he didn't deserve you and that you could find something better, but at the same time he was selfish and he didn't care about anything other than having you all for himself, as you were the only good thing he still had

• even if you two lived in a shitty, old, disgusting and moldy apartment, the times you spent fucking, holding and cuddling each other were the only good part of his life

• it was because of you he managed to slow down with his drinking and pills, he hadn't stopped it yet, you knew sometimes he needed it to cope with reality, but you were his favorite drug nonetheless

• he wanted to get you something nice, even if it was pretty hard to find something decent, he felt like you deserved a small treat for being his, and even if most of stuff he found was still shit, being a smuggler had it's advantages

• so when he saw the locket in the shape of a heart, he needed to have it for you, you deserved something pretty and gorgeous like you were, so he traded stuff here and there and managed to smuggle it back into the QZ so he could surprise you

• the day he gifted you the locket, you had squealed in happiness like a child and wrapped your arms around him, jumping into his embrace and kissing all over his lips and face, it was such a gorgeous gift, so thoughtful and you didn't hesitate in showing him gratitude for it

• he was so glad to see your reaction, knowing you deserved that and much more, it brought some light into his heart, to see you so glad because of a small gesture, which wasn't a small gesture to you at all

• if anything, it was a real big gesture and you knew you had to do something meaningful, there was only one thing you could place inside of it

• going to your safe box where you kept your personal objects and other significant things, you went through your polaroids; since you and Joel had snuck out of the QZ once to find stuff and you came across an old polaroid camera and some expired films at what seemed to have been a convenience store, you simply couldn't leave it behind

• yes, the lenses were a little cracked and the film was old but you managed to snap a few pictures of you and Joel - mostly against his will - and you didn't hesitate in taking one of them, cutting in the shape of your locket and placing inside of it

• when he came home from his shift that day, you flew to his lap as soon as he sat down on the couch, and wrapped yourself around him, he noticed the locked hadn't left your neck since he got you it and you smiled big

"open it!"

• you cheered pointing at it, which Joel chuckled and did as told, he didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but he knew he wasn't expecting to see his picture inside

"now I keep you next to my heart all the time Joel"

• you whispered to him, smiling at him with hopeful, loving eyes, while he felt tears springing through his own, not sure where that emotion was coming from, but it was there nonetheless

• his strong arms wrapped around your smaller frame as tight as he could and he buried his face between the crook of your neck, your hair falling all over it, as he tries muffling his sounds so you wouldn't notice he was actually crying

• Joel Miller wasn't a man to cry very often, but his old heart couldn't take that much love, kindness and innocence you had within, he didn't know why you had settled for him, a man with such an ugly past but he was never giving up that feeling for you

• of course you knew he was crying, but you decided not to say anything about it, it'd be better not to embarrass him, so instead you just clung to him, your hands caressing his graying curls, petting him so gently as you shared that embrace

• you loved Joel and he loved you, even if he didn't admit it out loud, there was no denying it

____

[purplecoffee13]

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 1

Summary: “You got cheated on, and Harry is the one your ex cheated with. You hate him, he hates you, and the universe seems to hate the both of you, because you keep being thrown into the same spaces.”

Wc: 3.3k

Tropes: enemies to lovers

Warning: mentions of cheating, foul language

A/N: Hey guys! I’m going to see Taylor this weekend, but I wanted to give you the first part of my new series before I log off for the weekend. I know Harry is sounding quite unlikable, because he is, but it is a slow burn so give it some time and let him explain!!!!! Enjoy xxx

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 is up!!!

It has been almost three weeks since you and your ex-boyfriend Dylan have broken up. You were heartbroken when you found out he cheated on you, and you still aren't over it in even the slightest. It was just unfathomable to you. How could he cheat on you and just step from one relationship into another?

Yes, that's right, Dylan immediately started dating the guy he cheated on you with. You couldn't believe when you first heard who it was, but it also didn't surprise you much.

Harry has had it out for you from the moment you and Dylan first started dating. You had no idea why, but now that those two are together, you finally understand. He was jealous of you. He wanted Dylan all to himself and— well, he succeeded. The fucking prick.

You had been trying to get over the humiliation and sadness, but it proved to be very hard. You had been in love with Dylan for so long, long before the two of you even started dating, and it was your first real relationship. You couldn't just move on that quickly.

But you were done. Done with crying and whining and bitching about it. It was like some sort of switch had turned, like the first stage of the moving on process had worn out. It was time to try some other methods of getting over Dylan. You finally took the advice from your friends, and tonight was your first date since the break-up.

You had downloaded tinder, and found yourself multiple matches. One guy named Brady, asked you out for drinks tonight, and you said yes. And so, the second stage of moving on commenced.

Now you're in one of the bar's booths, waiting for Brady to show up. He was handsome in his pictures, and he seems like a nice guy. You fiddle with your hands as you wait. You know that if something is going to happen between the two of you, it won't be serious or permanent, but you can't help but be nervous anyway.

You agreed to meet up at nine, and right now it's ten minutes past nine. A pit grows in your stomach as you sip on your beer. He wouldn't be standing you up, would he?

You wait and wait until it's a quarter to ten, and tears prickle in your eyes. What a disaster. How could you even think that this was a good idea?

You flag down a waitress and pay for the beers you drank as you waited. It isn't until you stand up that you realize how many it were. You are quite the lightweight, so five beers on a stomach filled with only a salad for dinner wasn't the best idea.

You walk out of the bar, and grab your phone to order an Uber. That is when you spot someone sitting on the bench in front of the bar, and you groan aloud.

Sitting on the stupid bench is stupid Harry, the guy which Dylan cheated on you with. Out of all people, you just had to run into him. He looks up upon hearing you groan, and the distaste on his face at the sight of you almost makes it look like you're the one Dylan cheated with on him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Harry asks, putting a cigarette to his mouth, and holding a lighter to it to turn it on.

"To ruin your relationship with your boyfriend— Oh no wait, that was you! Asshole..." You mutter as you roll your eyes. You turn around, almost falling over at the speed with which you did, but you are quick to steady yourself. You squint at your screen as you search for the Uber app in your phone.

"Fuck you." Harry murmurs under his breath, and you flip him off without turning around. You don't want to be around this guy, so you start walking away from him. Might as well warm yourself up as you wait for your Uber to arrive. If you can find the damn app...

Then a car honks and before you have time to look up, you are pulled into someone's arms. You look up from your phone and see a white car driving by, still honking at you, and when you turn around to see who is holding you, Harry's eyes meet yours. Once having regained your senses, you push him away.

"Get off of me!" You growl at him, dropping your phone accidentally.

"Are you stupid?! How fucking pissed are you to not notice a car coming straight at you—" Harry barks back at you as he picks up your phone, and hands it to you. You snatch it away, disgusted with the fact that he is touching your stuff.

"Shut up!" You shout at him with a wavering voice, too overwhelmed by everything. You are on the brink of crying. He seems to notice and quiets down.

"I'll bring you home." He mumbles softly, after you had time to breathe for a second and steady yourself. You frown at him, looking for even the slightest hint of deception—because what else is there to the guy who your boyfriend cheated on you with—but you can't find it.

"You are the last person I would ever step into a car with." You glare at him, crossing your arms. Harry rolls his eyes.

"You think you're my number one choice? No, but I'm not gonna let your drunk ass get run over." He argues back, seeming to be equally as irritated with you as you are with him.

"Yeah, because you're the picture of decency and chivalry." You cross your arms. The nerve of this guy! Trying to be all gentleman like when you know that he is nothing more than a pig.

Harry clenches his jaw, and you can tell he is ready to snap at you. You are waiting for him to start cussing you out—and there is a clear hesitation in his eyes—but he doesn't follow through. He merely sighs.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into my car. Because contrary to what you might believe, I do have some common decency, but I am not going to leave you outside a pub, drunk and alone." Harry explains, trying to catch your eyes as best as he can but you are avoiding his stare, afraid to see the sincerity behind them. "So, I either bring you home, or wait for an Uber with you."

You think it over for a few seconds, but your train of thought is interrupted when your name is shouted from a distance. You look in the way where the sound came from, and see Rebecca—a friend from class—wave at you with a big smile on her face. You wave, then turn back to Harry.

"Fuck. you."

You articulate the words slowly, hoping they marinate in his head, as you glare him down with the genuine spite you have felt from the moment you were made aware of the betrayal. You don't give him the chance to respond or even process what you just said, you just walk away.

You don't look back at Harry either, because you are sure that the hint of guilt that presses down on your chest is translating to your face, but you don't want to give in to it. Dylan betrayed you, and while he is the more culpable one in the situation, Harry did this too. He knew you and Dylan were together, and he still did what he did. The guilt transforms into a sadness as your mind wonders, how much did he have to hate you to do this to you?

You shake off the thought and paint a smile on your face as you reach Rebecca. She pulls you into an embrace and asks you how you are doing, and you answer that you're doing well.

"Was that... Harry?" She asks, whispering his name as if it would be a crime to say it out loud. The corner of your mouth tugs up.

"Yup." You nod.

"What did he want from you?" She glares at the place where Harry stands— or stood, because by the time you turn around, he is gone. You stare at the pavement, your body trying to push away that wave of emotional pain that seeing Harry instigated.

"I have no idea."

*************** *************** ***************

Few days later

You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity desk. Lipstick still in hand, you analyze your own face. Your make-up sits pretty on your face, painting the image of a woman who has her life together. But the truth couldn't be further from that.

Tonight, you're attending a birthday dinner of one of your friends, Benjamin, in a restaurant in the city. You truly were looking forward to it, but now that you and Dylan aren't together anymore, the fun event has turned into something you have been dreading.

You got to know Dylan through Benjamin. Benjamin was in your first project group ever at Uni. The two of you bonded and have been very close ever since. Benjamin is the type of person that knows a lot of people, and Harry is one of those people

Harry and Benjamin went to high school together. At least, that's what Benjamin told you when he introduced you to Harry at that one party all those years ago. It was at a random fraternity party on campus at the end of the first year, and it is where you met Dylan. Harry and him were roommates, so they had come together.

It was a cobweb of connections, and you have met a lot of people through Benjamin, but you really clicked with Dylan that night. Of course, now that doesn't seem to hold any value anymore, but you can't change the night you met Dylan into a rotten memory. It is sealed with some kind of glass that will always keep it pretty, innocent, sweet, and— well, just lovely.

It's what is going to make it extra hard to see Dylan with Harry tonight. You were happy to celebrate the birthday of your friend, of course, but you definitely weren't looking forward to seeing your ex and the guy he cheated on you with be together, as like— a couple.

You were aware that things like this would happen eventually—because that's what happened when you date someone in the friend group—but that doesn't make it easier. Luckily, a lot of your other friends will be there too.

Rebecca picks you up a good half hour before the dinner starts, and you drive into the city with music blasting through the speakers. You try to clear your head by letting the music take over every part of your brain, but the anxious pit in your stomach can't seem to be contained.

After parking the car a bit further down the street, you and Rebecca make your way to the Italian restaurant. You're about five minutes late—the traffic was worse than expected—so you both hurry over to the corner where the others are already sitting and chatting.

Benjamin gasps when he sees you and pulls you in for a big hug. You smile and congratulate him before handing him the bag which contains his gift. While he turns around and places it on the table, you take the opportunity to scan the room. It doesn't take long to spot Harry—you had felt his presence since you got here—but your eyes can't seem to find Dylan.

You don't allow yourself to feel any relief, as there might be a chance he is still in the bathroom. But when Benjamin tells everyone to sit down, placing you on his left and Harry on his right, you see that all the chairs are filled. Apparently Benjamin senses your confusion, because he leans in and whispers in your ear:

"He didn't come."

The words grant an overwhelming release of emotions that were making you feel like shit, and you start feeling like maybe you can enjoy tonight after all. Partly, at least. You frown; It is weird that Dylan wouldn't come to Benjamin's birthday. He was invited; you were next to him when he got the text.

You take a deep breath and decide that this isn't something you should be focusing on tonight. Alas, you are freed from the fucker for now. You should least enjoy it while you can.

You are seated next to Benjamin, on his left side. Harry is seated on his right side, keeping you apart. Since you are both important to Benjamin, he wants the two of you close to him, but not to each other.

The first course comes around pretty fast, and along with the two glasses of wine you down in record time, everything seems to be going quite smoothly. You avoid any contact whatsoever with Harry, and try to be as invested in Benjamin as you can.

After the main course, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and sneak away from the watchful eyes of the others. Instead of going to the bathroom, you go outside and light up a cigarette. It is an unfortunate habit you have began succumbing to since everything that happened. The smoking takes your mind off the stress for a couple of minutes, and it is the only thing that has kept you from going insane.

"Are you smoking?" A voice filled with disbelief asks from behind you. You freeze when you recognize the depth of it, along with the unmistakable accent. Well, there goes the cathartic part of smoking that cigarette.

You don't turn around, and so Harry walks up to you in order to check whether it is really you. He frowns at the sight of you with cigarette.

"Thought you hated smoking." He throws in the comment like it's nothing. But it isn't. You hear the resentment hidden in every word that comes out of his mouth. The grudge that he has held against you from the moment you two met is something you think needs to be studied. To this day, you have no idea what you did to make him so mad at you. But instead of worrying about it like you used to do, you are getting annoyed by it.

"Shitty times call for shitty measures." You take another drag from the cigarette before putting out the bud and throwing it in the bin. You are about to go back inside when a collection of bravely morbid words leave Harry's mouth.

"You don't have to act like I murdered your entire family." Harry growls, clenching his jaw as he reaches for his own cigarettes in his pocket. You turn around to him, thunder written all over your face.

"What did you say to me?" You ask slowly, taking a few steps towards him. Harry doesn't see it, as he is also searching for his lighter.

"Look, I know I did a shitty thing but..." His words come to a halt when he sees how much closer you are to him than before, and you don't miss the hint of shock in his eyes.

"But what, hmm? But it's not that bad? But I don't have to be such a bitch about it? But I shouldn't let it influence my behavior towards you? Is that what you were gonna say?" You ask him as you push against his chest a bit, urging him to answer you.

"I was gonna say—"

"I don't give a shit about what you think about my behavior. You didn't give a shit your behavior when you went behind my back and fucked my boyfriend, now did you?" You pose the question, rhetorically. Harry just sighs. "Yeah, I thought so... I can't believe you have the nerve to try and tell me how I should handle you and your new boyfriend fucking me over. Don't do shitty things if you're gonna cry about the consequences. And especially don't go crying to me about."

Harry doesn't look at you, but the tension in his jaw makes you brace yourself for an outburst of some kind. You did pretty much still him to the ground just now. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Harry says something unexpected.

"He's not my boyfriend."

You physically take a step back, genuine confusion on your face. What? You were certain that Dylan and Harry were together. It had been all over campus after you first broke up.

"He— he cheated on me. Broke up with me a couple days ago." Harry confessed, still not meeting your eyes. A whole lot of nothingness fills your organs as you stare at him. You have no idea what you are supposed to feel right now. The overwhelming amount of emotions has turned into one empty space that leaves room for nothing but a blank stare.

You feel like you're supposed to laugh at him—in your head at least—and tell him that he had it coming. He did, of course, but you just didn't expect it to happen so soon. You had no idea that Dylan was such a loose canon. At least you are rid of him, that is one positive thing about this whole messed up situation.

Nevertheless, anything that you think you are supposed to feel, is not there. There is no relief, or joy, or lightness that brings a cocky smile to your face as you soak in the karma that was clearly on your side here. No, you are filled with a dull ache that you recognize to be faint sadness. It's too distant to drown in but the familiarity of it still manages to make it sting a little bit.

Harry takes a deep breath, waiting for whatever you are going to say. You can tell that he mentally preparing himself for the humiliation to come, and as much as you'd like to give it to him, you can't find it in yourself to do so.

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Th— thanks..." Harry responds slowly, not sure how serious to take your words. You know he was expecting an entirely different reaction.

"I know I had it coming." He adds with a a hint of frustration that makes it seem like you already told him that. Of course, you had the comment in your back pocket already.

"I mean... I wasn't gonna say it so soon, but—"

"Yeah, I thought we would get it out of the way." Harry interrupts you with an annoyed smile. Your previously sad face had turned into more of a smug one and it was more than he could bear, so he just had to say it before you did. He didn't want you to rub it in his face.

Silence creeps upon the two of you. Awkwardly, you stare into the distance as you ponder the new information. It made Dylan even more of a dick than you already thought him to be.

At first, you had thought that Dylan cheated on you because he was in love with someone else— Harry. And while it is still unacceptable, it seems less heartless than cheating with no other intention but sexual pleasure. You could see in Harry's eyes that he didn't expect Dylan to cheat on him, so he must've thought it was love. But it wasn't. That just makes it more shitty than it already was. You find the stinging feeling of sympathy entering your chest when you think of Harry, but you don't want to feel that about him, so you squint at him.

"I still hate you, you know." You say to him.

"Right back at ya, sweetheart."

[writeforfandoms]

Bartender

Find my CoD masterlist

Everybody thanks @fan-of-encouragement​ for gently noodging me into writing this

You work as a bartender. The one night the 141 is in your bar happens to be the one night some jerk causes trouble. Price steps in to help.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, brief violence, reader gets a bit harassed (called unwanted pet names), reader gets grabbed for like two seconds, Price is a gentleman until he’s not, this is just for fun. 

Word count: 1.6k

You only had an hour until closing, and two groups plus a couple individuals to keep track of. It was slow. The one group, four men and one woman, kept quiet and to themselves, speaking too softly for you to hear. They were nursing their drinks now. The other group, three men, were noisier, riling each other up over a replay of some game on the TV in the corner. 

You really wanted to just kick everybody out now and go home, but. You had to wait. 

One of the three men got up and swaggered up to the bar. The swagger did not suit him. 

"Three beers, sweetheart." The look he gave you made you want to reach for the baseball bat you kept under the counter. 

Instead you nodded, popping the tops off the beers and putting them in front of him. "On your tab?" 

"Sure thing, sweetheart." 

Your lips twitched in displeasure. You hated that. Hated when people called you stupid fucking nicknames: sweetheart, sugar, darling. None of them knew you, didn't have the right. But the last asshole you'd chewed out had called and complained to your boss. 

So.

Keeping your rage internal won. 

"Say," he drawled, leaning part-way across the counter to get closer to you. You leaned back. "What're you doing after this?"

"Thought I'd go samba," you quipped, because even your boss couldn't threaten you into not being a sarcastic little shit. "Maybe adopt a puppy." 

His eyes narrowed. But he backed off with a muttered, "Cunt," thrown over his shoulder. Like you'd really be offended by that. You shook your head and tossed the bottle caps. 

"Are they bothering you?" 

You looked up at the woman from the nice group and smiled. "Nah. I'm good." 

She gave you a quick once-over before she smiled, just a little quirk of her lips. "Water and two more beers," she requested. 

You glanced back at their table. "Same type?" You double checked, already reaching for clean glasses. At her nod, you filled both and then two more glasses with ice water. "Here you go." 

"Thanks." She picked up the beers, one of the others coming over to grab the waters. 

"Thought women liked those frou-frou drinks," the would-be swaggerer said, loud enough that the whole bar heard. Not that that was difficult - the TV was the primary source of noise. "Sure you want a beer, darling?"

Oh boy. That one was a real winner, clearly. 

You exchanged commiserative looks with the woman, who ignored the douchebag to take her beers to her table. 

Except the asshole took exception to that. He stood. "Don't ignore me, I asked you a question." 

"I wouldn't." The one who spoke up was wearing a black beanie, fingers still curled around his drink. His eyes were very blue when he lifted his gaze. 

The asshole took a moment to look at the other table before apparently deciding he wasn't that suicidal. Instead he stomped up to the bar, shoving his credit card across the bartop to you. "Close out my tab." 

You took the card silently and turned to the computer, closing out the tab. But apparently not fast enough - a hand slapped down on the bar, loud enough to startle you into jumping. 

"That's enough." The blue-eyed man sounded firm, on the border of annoyed. 

You turned in time to see the asshole square his shoulders, outright glaring now. “You don’t get to order me around.” 

“Your receipt,” you interrupted, probably more loudly than you needed to. “And your card.” You set both on the counter, watching as the asshole turned around again. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, snatching both and shoving them in his pocket. “Not gonna say anything to them?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why would I?”

“They’re bothering my buddies and I.” 

You raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. “If anything, you’re disturbing them. Your buddies need to settle up their tabs.” 

Faster than you expected from a man clearly on the edge of being drunk, his hand whipped out and grabbed your wrist, hard enough that you winced. 

“Don’t be rude, sweetheart,” he growled, yanking on your wrist. Your jaw clenched tight to keep your pain to yourself. 

You didn’t even get a chance to respond (or to pull out your baseball bat). The man in the beanie was suddenly just there, grabbing the asshole by the back of the jacket and bodily jerking him away from you. The asshole went down hard, his buddies jumped to their feet, and the man in the beanie… grinned? 

“You alright?” It was the woman, leaning back against the bar next to you, so she was not impeding your view. 

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing your wrist absently. “You’re, uh. Not worried about your friend?” 

“Price? Nah.” She grinned suddenly. “He knows when to stop.” 

You blinked as one of the assholes went sprawling on his face from a well-timed kick. Price was single-handedly decimating all three of the assholes. Price’s friends had formed a loose circle, also watching and apparently making sure the assholes didn’t escape.

You should really not find this so entertaining. But you did. 

“Oh that’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you murmured with a mean grin. 

“More than just tomorrow,” the woman agreed with you, smirking.

“You said his name is Price?” You glanced at your new companion, curious.

“Mmhm.” Sharp eyes found yours, assessing. You smiled. 

“He was drinking whiskey, yeah?” 

“He was.” Amusement shone in her eyes again as you grabbed a fresh napkin and your sharpie, scribbling a quick note and your number before pouring out a fresh drink for Price. 

The bang of the door made you look, and you found the couple regulars gone, headed out. You didn’t blame them. The asshole who’d already paid had been left slumped on the floor, groaning, blood trickling from his nose. His two buddies were both being hauled up to the bar. 

“There ye are!” This one had a mohawk and a thick accent, and he winked at you as he cozied up to the bar next to the woman, one of the assholes well in hand. “Now, believe ye need t’pay yer tab, aye?” 

The asshole was quick to toss cash on the bartop, which you were quick to whisk away. “Perfect change,” you said, a little smug. (It was only a little fib, and you figured the extra five bucks were the cleaning fee. Because you would definitely have to clean that blood off the floor.) 

The other asshole was simply set in front of you by a big man with a black face mask on. He gave you a short nod and jostled the other guy, who also tossed cash at you. 

“Right, you’re good to go.” You tucked the money away, probably a little more gleeful than you should have been. But. Look. Long nights working the bar by yourself had given you a good appreciation for the occasional bar fight. Especially ones that didn’t involve any property damage. 

The three assholes scampered. Leaving you with the victorious party. 

“Well, that was fun,” you quipped, grabbing the mop from its spot. “Thanks for not breaking anything, by the way.” You plucked up the glass and the napkin and set them in front of Price with a wink before moving on to clean up. 

“We’ll get out of your hair,” the woman said, already ushering two of the others out ahead of her. 

“No rush,” you said, but the third was already following with a cheeky grin. 

Leaving you alone in the bar with Price. 

“Need anything for your knuckles?” you asked, because you couldn’t not. 

“No. Thank you.” He watched you put the mop away again and start gathering up all the glasses to be washed, taking a deliberate sip from his drink. The napkin, you noticed, was nowhere in sight. Either he’d tossed it, or he’d tucked it away.

You knew which option you preferred. 

“Thanks for handling them.” You glanced back at him as you started on the dishes. 

“It was nothing.” He shrugged off the thanks, looking down into his drink for a few moments. “Decided to close up?”

“Might as well,” you said with a nod. “Less than an hour until actual closing, and all my customers are gone.” You grinned. “I’m not sad about that.” 

“Mm.” He tipped his head, walking slowly up to the bar. He tipped his glass back, finishing his whiskey in one swallow. “And what are you doing afterwards?” 

You smiled slowly, mischievous and pleased. “Thought I’d do a little dancing.” 

“Got a partner in mind?” He set the glass down, the blue of his eyes bright and intent. 

“Depends. You offering?” 

His smile was slow to come but very nice to look at. “I am.”

“Good.” You tipped your head, letting yourself give him a more thorough once-over. Broad shoulders, trim waist. Definitely strong. “I’ll be done sooner if you sweep.”

He snorted softly but nodded. His hand closed over yours on the broom as you handed it over and he leaned in close to murmur, “Hope you still have enough energy to keep up with me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me.” You tipped your head in almost-challenge, grinning. “You just worry about the floor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, low and rumbly. You watched him turn away to start sweeping. 

Oh yeah, you were definitely skipping a couple things to get out of here faster. 

[unicyclehippo]

For bishova: regret

it would be stupid to think she knew anything about yelena from one—a mostly masked fight on a rooftop, and two—a conversation slash interrogation (?) in her burned-up apartment but when the widow took the seat next to her in the booth where she had been drowning her sorrows, a bottle of top shelf vodka in her hand, kate couldn’t help thinking maybe the other girl was being nice.

but what the fuck did she know? she hadn’t even know her mom was a mob boss or whatever.

‘what do you want?’

‘to drink,’ yelena said calmly.

kate kept her head low. no one in a bar like this cared who she was—hopefully, though maybe she was risking it by patronising a dive bar, maybe her mom had double-crossed or pressured or stole from or threatened everyone in here.

kate didn’t tell yelena to leave but she didn’t say anything more. just sat and rolled a quarter over her knuckles again and again and again and again and—

‘you are not being a very welcoming friend, kate bish—‘

‘don’t,’ kate growled. out of the corner of her eye, she saw the assassin smirk. she probably sounded like a toothless puppy to her. she was a fucking joke. ‘just don’t. okay? sit and drink or go away.’

yelena sat. she poured a measure into one shot glass and pushed it in front of kate, who blinked down at it.

‘what—did you bring your own novelty shot glasses to a bar?’ she couldn’t think of another reason she’d have an Alice In Wonderland themed glass.

kate let the quarter clatter to the tabletop and traded it for the little glass, lifted it up to make sure.

DRINK ME, it said, with a cheshire grin.

yelena didn’t smile like that but when kate finally looked at her, properly, she was pretty sure the glint in her eyes was the assassin’s version of it.

‘yes. mine is even better. see?’

kate didn’t look down.

‘does it say hot sauce?’

‘it says hot sauce.’ yelena smiled toothily. ‘a funny thing to put on a shot glass, yes?’

‘yeah.’ kate mustered a dry sigh. ‘yeah, it’s - that’s funny.’

‘you are not amused. you are either not a funny person, kate—which i know is not true—or you are not paying attention to my very funny glass.’

yelena threw her shot back.

kate should look away. kate should not find it very attractive, the way yelena shook her hair back and swallowed the shot, licked a drop from the corner of her mouth. the line of her throat. kate should not have got her mom arrested. kate should not be upset about getting her mom arrested. kate should be stalwart and true and brave and—

yelena tapped the table. ‘drink.’

‘don’t tell me what to do,’ kate snapped, overly harsh.

the only sign that yelena noticed was her slow blink. then the assassin scoffed.

‘so rude, kate! here i am, bringing the “good stuff”, and you won’t drink? this is very hurtful. i am hurt!’ yelena insisted, hand to heart.

she was lying, of course. she had some spin, some angle, something she was trying to get out of her or do and kate didn’t have to play along this time! it wasn’t any of her business! except that yelena was here, of course, but what did that mean?

kate scowled down at her drink. she hadn’t even finished the mostly-foam beer the bartender had shoved into her hand, pint sticky with the drink that slopped over the edge. or from the drink before. which was gross but. whatever. she wished she’d drunk more. wished yelena hadn’t shown up yet but when she was a more respectable nine drinks in, which would be a real excuse for not knowing what angle yelena was working this time, for how muddled kate’s thoughts were.

an ache punched up into the soft of her brain, the headache (concussion?) kate had been ignoring for the last hour. she let out an unsteady breath and picked up the quarter again. squeezed it until that hurt more than her head.

‘did you poison it?’

yelena turned so she could lean an elbow on the table, prop her head against her hand. kate watched out of the corner of her eye as the other girl smiled very sweetly.

‘no.’

‘drug it?’

‘no.’

‘steal it?’

‘no.’

kate sighed.

‘fuck it. thanks.’

she drank.

the vodka hit the back of her throat first. then she tasted it; it tasted like the time she swore her head off and her mom told her to wash her mouth out with soap and she’d done it because—

‘another,’ kate rasped, and coughed.

yelena poured her another. when kate drank that one too, she said,

‘you did not strike me as this kind of girl.’

heat poured through kate, stomach out. it was nice. it was always so cold in new york. not the real kind of cold kept at bay with a good coat, and kate always had a good coat and boots she never slipped because her mom always got her the best stuff and scolded her when she tried to slide across a big patch of ice. new york was cold because there were so many people here but none of them were hers. and yet. here was yelena. and vodka. and kate was warm.

her tongue felt warm too, which was weird. maybe the drink was drugged. she didn’t think she cared at this point.

‘what kinda girl?’

‘the kind to sit in dirty bars and drink alone.’

kate considered that seriously. yelena’s words felt as smoky as her voice and the meanings kept slipping through her fingers. how strong was that vodka?

‘me neither,’ she confessed. ‘but before today did you think i was the kinda girl to get my mom arrested?’ it struck her as funny. it was funny! because, guess what, she is!

‘i was not sure,’ yelena said. ‘but i am not that surprised. it was fifty-fifty, yes?’

fifty-fifty chance she’s a bad daughter or a bad hero. great odds. fucking fantastic.

‘you are having regret.’

kate eyed her empty shot glass.

‘i will give you another when you answer my question.’

kate grinned. leaned closer to her drinking buddy. ‘so this—‘ she patted yelena’s shoulder—and was sober enough to see the frown that earned her to remember not to do that again—‘this is an interrogation, huh? okay.’ she leaned closer. ‘i wish you hadn’t told me.’

yelena narrowed her eyes. read kate like an open book. easier—like words on a clear shot glass.

‘you do not mean that.’

kate shrugged. she wasn’t so sure. she nudged her shot glass closer to yelena. ‘any more questions or will you be a good drinking buddy and top me up, romanoff?’

she thought yelena wanted to say something for a second, as she sat back in the seat and tilted her head. but then yelena only poured her another drink and kate thought better of it. what the fuck did she know? not her mom. and certainly not yelena.

[lexithwrites]

love love love the sugar daddy au, do you have any nsfw thoughts to spare?

this is kinda gonna just be their first time together as im not 100% on their dynamic overall,,,,bare with me whilst i figure this couple out:

i feel like their first kiss is when they're drunk at regulus' penthouse, like they're sat on the sofa watching something or listening to music and talking and drinking some nice wine and regulus is looking away as remus stares at him and then just kinda leans a little closer at first

regulus flinches, he's never used to physical touch anymore, and then looks at remus and realises he genuinly wants to kiss him, thats it, and he leans in so their lips touch and its immediate fireworks

both of them feel electric and the soft kiss turns into deep kissing, slow and sensual, then passionate and desperate as they touch and grip and feel and grope and start to moan into each other's mouths but then regulus jumps back because he's scared, he hasn't done this in so long and he doesn't know what to feel and remus is so apologetic about it

then,,,,the sexual tension becomes too much

regulus caves, he goes to remus' flat when james is out with his brother and just,,,he kisses him so desperatley, moaning into his mouth about how horny he is and that he cant stop thinking about remus and he needs to fuck him and remus is all for it, he's been in the same boat

but regulus knows what he wants and he knows how this is going to go, so he lays out ground rules, safe words, dos and donts etc and remus is all for it, its the most safe and seen he's felt having sex EVER

regulus takes the lead, he feels every inch of remus before even taking his clothes off and its the best kind of torture

remus is a pretty submissive guy and he's under his spell straight away, just whimpering and pleading for regulus to let him touch him but he isnt ready, he needs his fill of remus first

regulus is,,,very good at giving head. he doesn't have a lot of experiance with partners but he watches porn, he has toys, he knows what he's doing, and remus' thighs are shaking by the end of it

regulus has never seen this intense look of pleasure ever on a partners face and he's actually flustered, he didnt expect remus to enjoy it so much but then he's being thrown on the bed and its time,,,he has to let remus see him naked

now, im a trans reg truther always, so he's very nervous. remus knows he's trans, they've had this talk, but he's never had sex with someone after transitioning and he's so scared remus will hate the scars and maybe hate the fact that he doesn't have a 'real' dick, remus loves his body so much its crazy

he's never been so attracted to someone and he wants to devour him,,,so he does

remus' sexuality is a bit of a mystery to me, but i feel like he's had experiance with,,,everything that can be down there, and he just gives regulus his fucking all, he's sloppy and messy but so precise and attentive, every time regulus tugs his hair he stays in that spot, every new moan and gasp is what he wants again and again, its amazing,,,he does himself proud

and then the actual fucking,,,its a bit awkward

remus has to get condoms and regulus is lying there watching him and then gets under the sheets so he's comfortable, and then remus is leaning over him just staring into his eyes and saying how beautiful and handsome he is and regulus just blushes and tells him to put it in already, and remus frowns

'i want this to last forever, regulus...dont you?' and regulus melts, plus it makes him wet af to hear that

and god,,,the sex is good guys, its so good

neither has ever felt this good before and its overwhelming in the best way

they're both panting and moaning and gripping at ecah other, begging for more and almost on the verge of tears because they've never felt so connected to another person, and its a mix of hot and fast and hard and slow and deep and loving and its just,,,UGH

they're a hot fucking couple idc

and afterwards when they're both cleaned and showered and the sheets are changed, regulus will NOT sleep in a dirty bed, they're lying together naked, just gently touching each other and holding each other, regulus confesses that he's been so scared to have sex again because he didn't think he'd ever enjoy it, he never did as a woman so why would he as a man? why would people care about his pleasure now?

and remus just kisses his forehead and promises to never let him feel that way again

regulus wakes remus up with a blowjob the next morning and rides him for ages, they basically spend the next three days fucking and going down on each other to make up for lost time until remus has to go back to work and even then he comes home in the afternoon to naked regulus in bed napping, and he's so fucking happy

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

T 🧛‍♂️ 🥵🎀 (also congrats! and I am very excited about this whole thing! 😘😘😘)

Thank you so much, love! 💖 This one is not as explicitly smutty as the other request I did for you, but I'm pretty positive this won't be the last time I visit this world. (And they will absolutely fuck nasty in later instalments.)

Sweet perdition

Words: 947 Rated: E Tags: Vampire & werewolf AU; Vampire Eddie; Werewolf Steve; Imprisonment; Non-consensual bondage; Sexual tension; Explicit sexual content; Homoerotic blood drinking Notes: Part 1

It seems, Kas thinks, like he needs to thoroughly reassess his notions of werewolves. 

He's just lucky none of his vampire siblings can see him now, shackled to the floor in the basement of the surprisingly fancy manor that is the den of Steve’s pack. Outwitted and taken captive by a bunch of mutts - he'd be an utter laughing stock. 

Then again, if his siblings think that all werewolves are ugly, hairy thugs with nothing but floof for brains, it only goes to show they’ve never met any real-life packs before. Or their very pretty, very witty, very naked leaders.

Speaking of which … 

“I see you. I know you're watching me.” 

A heartbeat passes in silence. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” Steve smiles as he steps from the darkness. “Merely checking if you're settling in alright.” 

“How very hospitable of you,” Kas snarls. “You treat all your guests like this?” 

“Only the ones that might tear out my throat while I'm asleep,” Steve shrugs, settling cross-legged on the ground, just out of reach. He's acquired a set of clothes since Kas last saw him. A pair of skinny breeches and a cream shirt with billowing sleeves, gathered at the wrists with little satin ribbons. He looks like a haughty young lord gracing a subject with his presence. 

“You could always just let me go,” Kas hedges. Steve snorts a boyish laugh. 

“Nice try,” he says. “Afraid I can't do that.” 

Kas groans. “Is this still about your stupid prey? I told you I have nothing to do with that. Animal blood makes me wanna hurl.” 

Steve’s face remains unimpressed. “Even if that's true, one of your friends might be involved. Keeping you around might come in handy.” 

“So you're just gonna leave me down here to rot?” 

“I didn't say that.” 

Kas is about to ask what the hell he is on about, but then Steve holds out his hand. Something unfurls from his fingers - a broad band of tan leather. Inlaid with silver like the manacles on his wrists, no doubt; designed to drain his powers without causing physical harm or pain. Dangling from the end are a metal clasp and lock.

Kas sneers. 

“I think you're a bit confused, wolf boy. If one of us should be in a collar, it sure as hell isn't me.” 

Steve shrugs, rising to his feet. “Suit yourself. I'll just-” 

Something rumbles, loud and humiliating. Steve turns back around, eyebrows raised. 

“Hungry?” 

Kas scowls. “Told you I haven't been anywhere near your food, didn't- what the fuck are you doing?” 

“You're of no use to me if you starve, are you?” Steve is undoing the ribbon on his left wrist with deft fingers, pushing the sleeve up to his elbow. “Drink.” 

Kas bares his fangs, drawing a breath to tell him to go fuck himself. 

And that is when the scent hits him. Coppery and hot and tempting like all living things. 

But also more. 

Also warm summer soil and newly mown hay and embers in a slow fire. 

Life. 

He's on his knees before he realizes it, nosing at the delicate skin of that wrist. Steve hisses lightly as he pierces his flesh, but he doesn’t pull back. 

The taste of him hits Kas like something solid, seeping heavily into his limbs and sending his mind abuzz with fuzzy sensations and images. The sky at dusk and sun on skin. Music and laughter and touch, and a forgotten name floating just out of reach. The warm, tingling heat pools at the base of his spine, setting his nerves alight with fire. He moans, lapping at the thin rivulet of blood like a parched man. Each droplet is like a hit of morphine, is sweet perdition, is another kind of shackle snapping shut. He knows, instinctively, even in this moment, that he's lost. He's powerless to stop it. 

“Enough.” 

Steve uses his free hand to yank him back by the hair. Kas snarls in protest, straining to catch the last precious drops falling from those long fingers with his tongue before they go to waste. Steve watches him while he licks them up. 

“Greedy, aren't you?” 

“Fuck you,” Kas snaps. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile. “Oh, I'm sure you'd love to. That happen every time you feed or is that just for me?” 

Those hazel eyes are swirling with gold as they flick down, and Kas realizes with a detached sense of surprise that he is painfully hard. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” he drawls. “And besides, I could ask the same thing of you.” 

He turns his head, which is conveniently level with the very obvious bulk in Steve’s pants. The boy doesn't recoil when he scrapes his fangs along the outline of it, merely takes a well measured step back. He's a tough little bastard, Kas has got to give it to him. 

“I'll just leave this here,” Steve says sweetly. “In case you change your mind.” 

The collar clatters to the ground. Kas doesn't turn to look at it. His gaze is transfixed to Steve's hands fixing his shirt sleeve back into place. The ribbon soaks up the last beads of blood, crimson stains blooming on cream satin like flower petals. 

“Full moon's tomorrow, so you'll need to make that meal last for a day or two,” Steve says conversationally. “I suggest you put that time to good use and think about my offer.” 

Kas wordlessly watches how he turns his back and disappears into the darkness. The metal buckle of the collar glints in the low light of the basement.

The summery scent of life lingers long after Steve is gone. 

Werewolf!Robin: You let him drink your WHAT? Are you insane? What if he has vampire rabies?!

More celebration ficlets

[stardustprompts]

how to sell a haunted house - grady hendrix sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; death , alcohol , language , mental health

‘you need to sit down.’

‘what did you do?’

‘jesus, i’m sorry I’m not doing it the right way. i’m sure you’d be perfect at this.’

‘I find knowing these details makes it easier.’

‘you should have a drink, too.’

‘i’m not going to die. not for a long time.’

‘just because we shared a bathroom for fifteen years doesn’t mean you know a thing about me.’

‘my yoga instructor knows more about me than you do.’

‘I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d show up and start telling everyone what to do.’

‘look, I know you need to be in charge, but I’ve taken care of this.’

‘stop telling me how to deal with things. things are dealt with. I dealt with them.’

‘you can’t argue with someone when they’re upset.’

‘I don’t know what got into me, but I overreacted and I’m not proud of if it, and it wasn’t fair to you.’

‘you always needed everyone looking at you.’

‘I didn’t do it for attention. I did it because I was upset.’

‘I don’t like coming in here anyways. it’s got bad vibes.’

‘you can’t put a price tag on love.’

‘being here is really bad for my mental health.’

‘I know you don’t like me because i’m not successful enough for you.’

‘i’m actually happy with my life.’

‘if we aren’t related, if we met today, we wouldn’t chose to be friends.’

‘I don’t think we should be in here at all. I think my plan was better.’

‘don’t you feel the vibes?’

‘this is happening too fast. we need to slow down.’

‘your house is haunted.’

‘every single time I give you the benefit of the doubt, or I try to help, it comes back and bites me in the ass. every! single! time!’

‘our house is not haunted.’

‘i’m telling you there’s weird vibe. I can feel it in my gut.’

‘methinks thou doth protesteth too much.’

‘ghosts don’t exist.’

‘there are true things and there are false things, and there are no in-betweens.’

‘there are facts, like houses and car accidents and cremation, and there’s bullshit like ghosts and vibes and exorcisms. and if you start getting the true things mixed up with the false things, you’re fucked!’

‘reality is not a consensus!’

‘when you don’t like the way a conversation is going you deflect with personal attacks.’

‘you’re like some kind of emotionally abusive octopus entangling everyone in your word tentacles.’

‘even I know that you don’t go back in a haunted house after dark.’

‘the only things here are memories, and those can’t hurt us.’

‘you’re very threatened by new ideas.’

‘I offered to stay tonight because I thought it would be good for you. i’m hoping it gives you some closure.’

‘why are you so mad at me? is it because you feel guilty?’

‘i’m sorry you remember it that way because that must feel terrible, but that’s not what happened.’

‘stop telling me what I remember!’

‘no one ever says no to you, (name) because we’re all scared you’re going to lose your temper.’

‘oh, fuck you. nice try, (name), but fuck you.’

‘no matter what you did, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to you.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star.’

‘everything has to be a big production and you’re the star. all because you can’t face the fact that your life is sad and empty.’

‘it’s a little late for you to start being my brother now.’

‘you blew my mind. it felt like we were the only two people left in the world.’

‘no matter what, I don’t want to ditch you here with a bunch of ghosts.’

‘right now what you need, for once in your life, is to listen to me.’

‘the way you’re laughing is actually really, really scary.’

‘none of this is real.’

‘stop being scary.’

‘I don’t think I’m well. I think something is really wrong inside me.’

‘don’t you fucking laugh at me. for the first time ever, my life finally makes sense.’

‘I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.’

‘my explanation is logically consistent. yours is all magical energy.’

‘it was absolutely terrifying.’

‘how much trouble are you in?’

‘look at me. you’re not crazy. this really happened.’

‘don’t make this funny.’

everything you’ve seen tonight, i’ve seen it too.’

‘i’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.’

‘it was easier to pretend nothing happened.’

‘my entire life I’ve always known something was wrong with me. i’ve spend my entire life scared that if didn’t do everything exactly right, reality would unravel around me and I’d lose myself again.’

‘I forgive you.’

‘I hope you feel better. i’m fine.’

‘I didn’t think you had it in you.’

‘get out of here.’

‘all the things I did, I want to forget.’

‘i’m not doing it! i’m not doing it again!’

‘you need to get out of here right now.’

‘it won’t hurt me, but it’ll hurt you. you have to go right now!’

‘don’t let him do this again. don’t let him take over.’

‘I need a beer.’

‘an apology would go a long way.’

‘can you keep it down? I had to lie about what happened to a lot of people.’

‘are you seriously upset with me because I saved your life?’

‘you need to accept reality.’

‘you’ve become such a grouch.’

‘I wish you’d let someone take care of you.’

‘do you agree that there are forces greater than this world and we are helpless in the face of them?’

‘we don’t have time to fuck around.’

‘i’d like to say this the weirdest shit that’s ever happened to me but I have a bad feeling it’s about to get a lot worse.’

‘I told you this was a bad idea.’

‘I think we’re fucked.’

‘this is wrong. what you’re doing is wrong.’

‘let’s talk about something that’s actually interesting.’

‘it just hurts a little. and by ‘a little’ I mean ‘a lot’ and also ‘all the time.’’

[fanfiction-blep]

CAN I REQ FOR BRAT TAMING QUARITCH bc im OBSESSED with the idea of him saying "whats wrong, didnt you ask for this sweetheart" while brat taming u, oh yes navi!quaritch x navi or human reader (up to you) also maybe quaritch with a spanking and belly bulge kink too 🤭

PLS DOO!! tyyty

PLEASE This man is 1000% a brat tamer. This was so much fun... I hope you enjoy ;)

Brat Tamer Miles Quaritch

Warnings: Dom Miles Quaritch/Brat tamer. Smut, Mentions of fingering, Restraints. Dirty talk. Degradation only if you squint tbh. Fluffy care giver if you squint. Daddy kink.

"OKAY! So hear me out. This man is 10000% a brat tamer wanna know how I know? A brat can see a tamer from a mile away.

look at him, he wants submission from everyone but he takes joy in forcing someone to submit. He takes pleasure in knowing he has the power to push you into submission.

Also as every Dom should he acknowledges your submission as a privilege he realises that it proves how much you trust him. You know how deep his degradation and punishments can go, so when you tease him understanding all to well exactly what is in store for you. He knows you understand the risks. (As you have vocalised this many times to each other.) In this sense his brat tamer tendencies aren't exclusive to the bedroom. He knows he has to take a more care taking role at times.

"Drink you're water princess" "Don't fucking pout at me, drink ya water. Or you want something else in ya mouth?" "Yes Daddy" "Good girl"

He will be so caring outside the bedroom, out side the wondering eyes of others. He is a very private man, he doesn't want everyone knowing his business as long as people know that you are his than that is all that matters.

He will mark you up real good to let the others know too, he'll take pride in you marking him. The first time you bit into his neck and left marks Lyle couldn't help himself. "Have a good time last night Colonel" sniggering while you blush hard, he would place his hand over your lower back in support. "Mind ya business Lyle." secretly he loves the attention, he doesn't want to get into details or have everyone be clued in on you're relationship. As long as people know he owns you, that's all he needs.

NOW inside the bedroom.

You will tease him, for days sometimes. Whether its lingering touches or pressing you body against his. If you haven't been able to be alone for a hot minuet than you'll push it further by wearing a low cut tank, showing a little more cleavage than you normally would. That would push him over the edge, there really isn't much need for skirts on Pandora. However if you retire first to your shared bedroom and he walks in on you undressing/in your underwear... Girl i feel sorry for you.

He'll close the door real slow, do the eyebrow raise thing and lock the door.

there is a cabinet next to the door, at the end of your shared bed. This is where he keeps all the kinky stuff. So if he walks in on you barley clothed or even after a day of teasing he will pull out a pair of cuffs and stalk over to you.

"Strip" Yes sir "On the bed" Anything you say daddy.

Whether you are human or Na'vi man is HUNG so you need a lot of foreplay before anything can actually happen and in moments where you have teased him. He will use foreplay as a part of the punishment. He wont give oral as foreplay as it wouldn't be a punishment.

King of edging!! He will finger you, play with you're clit and keep going until you are a mess. Unable to do anything other than writhe underneath him due to the restraints.

WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR HIS COCK. omg could you imagine him just tilting his head pushing a lip out and looking down at you. "Ya gotta ask real nice, only good girls get rewards." "Since you want to act like a fuckin' brat i gotta fuck some manners into you"

When he finally pushes himself inside you, your wound up so tight from all the edging its too much.

"Please, daddy. It's too much" At your whimpers he would start snapping his hips into yours holding you're hips down ensuring he can continue his harsh rhythm. "What's wrong sweetheart" He'd mutter between thrusts "Didn't you ask for this? acting like fuckin' brat all day. isn't this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?" You're head would turn to the side his words sending electricity straight to you're core.

His hand would cup your chin forcing you to look at him. "You look away I stop. Understood?" You would nod into his palm, desperate for him to make you cum. "Good girl, now tell me. Didn't you want this? for me to stuff you with my cock, claim you?" A whine left you're lips struggling to form a sentence, his pace slowed down his eyes warning you to speak. "YeS! Please, that's all i wanted you to fuck me" "Fuck" He would growl thumbs beginning to bruise you're hip bones as he slammed into you, bringing you to the edge of your orgasm.

The cocky bastard would lean back on the balls of his feet and start thrusting into you at a new angle. "I don't know if you deserve to cum" He would mutter pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Pulling you're hips slowly down on his cock. "Please" The beg that left your mouth was desperate, your eyes pleading with him. "Please I'll be good, I need it. Need to cum on you're cock daddy"

"Hmm" He would hum nodding and then he would start thrusting into you pulling yours hips to meet his own, his pace brutal and the sounds leaving his mouth fucking primal. he was a beast and he fucked you into at least two orgasms.

"Ya wanna cum again for me?" His head was thrown back, mouth agape. "Too much" You'd shake your head whimpering and whining beneath him. "thought ya were gonna be a good girl for me" You whined in defeat, almost closing you're eyes due to the pleasure. You're eyes would meet his and he would smirk at you, snapping his hips harder. "You wanna cum with daddy?" You would nod your wrists biting into the restraints. within moments he had you both cumming.

this man!! Please!!!

Brat tamer Quaritch should never be tempted unless you are mentally physically and spiritually prepared to have you're pussy wrecked.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part two)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

a/n: just a little explanation on their ages, since they are aged up for this series. Jace, the reader, Helaena and Aemond are in their mid-twenties. Alys is in her mid-thirties. Luke is around 21/22. Feel free to adjust if you wish.

Also, the photo I used is of Tom Bennett, as I felt the need to use a modernized look for Aemond, but nevertheless, he is still Aemond - silver haired, sullen, and soon enough, sapphire-eyed. If my photo editing skills are up to par, then I would have edited shoulder-length (yup, for this story) silver hair and modern clothes on our Aemond, but alas...

happy reading, beautiful people. 🖤

themes/warnings: fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, slight love triangle, language, accident/severe injury (towards the end)

word count: 7.3k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The morning after their interrupted kiss, the reader learns more about Aemond's apparent lover. She grows discouraged with striking up a romance with him, but he is determined to change her mind.

There is a curious knot in your stomach when you wake, remembering the night before. Aemond had leaned in close, so close, that you feel as if his scent still surrounds you.

The deep green walls of his bedroom are still burned into your eyes. From then on, there is no way that this particular shade of green won’t bring you back to that night. With him.

With Aemond. The one who has flooded your thoughts for almost a year now. The object of your desire.

Although, it seems… that he might already have his own object of desire.

Why did Alys visit him so late last night? You want to feign innocence, and remain oblivious to any and all lewd possibilities. Maybe she’s just a dear friend, who needed some company. Perhaps to have a drink, or to borrow a book? Or perhaps she has had some romantic trouble earlier last evening, and needed to vent her heart out to Aemond, who is nothing if not an attentive listener.

Well, shit. You slam your palm to your forehead as you allow reality to set in. You can continue to hope, but deep down, you know that Alys is not just a friend to Aemond.

This might be one of the very few instances wherein tabloid fodder has some truth to it. Dragonstone heir and model socialite spotted leaving Claridge’s Hotel in London after a wild night out.

That was just one of the several headlines that caught your eye, and immediately chose to ignore. You don’t even remember how long ago that was, but it seems as if their story is yet to reach its end.

If, indeed, it ever will.

But why was he going to kiss me? I mean, he was, wasn’t he?

You turn to the side, and notice that you’re all alone in bed. Helaena always wakes up much earlier, preferring to be awake as the sun rises, which leaves her ample time to go about her extensive morning routine.

Before you allow your rampant thoughts to get the better of you, you finally get up, wiping sleep from your eyes, and stumble to her bathroom. As you study your reflection is the mirror, one thing springs to your mind. What is going to happen if you meet Aemond downstairs? Granted, it is rare for the whole family to convene early during weekdays, but he did say he will meet you in the morning.

You take your sweet time getting ready, delaying the inevitable, before finally heading downstairs.

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

The clock above an alcove in the kitchen reads 8:17. The smell of pancakes waft through the air, calming your senses. Breakfast food is always a good idea.

Helaena comes into view, stacking the last pancakes on a plate.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Nice face.” She jokes, smiling in her carefree way.

“What about it?” You scrunch your nose in response, picking off a blueberry from a glass bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Rough night?” She turns off the induction stove, having finished, and you help her carry the dishes to the dining table.

Talia, their housekeeper, walks in the kitchen. A worried look is etched on her face. “Ma’am, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you? I can cook you something else, or fetch something from the store? Your mother says - ”

“Everything’s fine, Talia.” Helaena assures her. She has never really indulged having a maid to clean up after her. One thing about Helaena, she’s very likely the most simple one out of the family, not bothering with the usual trappings of luxury, and that includes having a maid at her every beck and call. Helaena only asks for help when she needs it, and as it stands, she’s perfectly capable of cooking up a damn good breakfast. “Why don’t you attend to yourself this morning?”

“A-attend to myself, ma’am?” Talia asks.

“Yes,” Helaena shoots a smile at you conspiratorially, “Talia, go out and take a walk, or watch a movie, or get a massage. Whatever you want, it’s on us. The rest of the family are either busy working, hungover somewhere, or out of town, anyway. We’ll be fine for today.”

Talia smiles brightly in appreciation. “Very well then. Thank you, ma’am. Please do call me if you need anything at all.”

Helaena nods her head once. Talia makes a move to leave, but she seems to recall something.

“Oh, uh, Miss Y/n?” She addresses you this time. “Sir Aemond did say that he’s very sorry that he isn’t able to see you this morning. He left very early, quite in a rush. There must have been something very pressing at work.”

“Oh.” You could not hide the disappointment in your voice. Or was it relief? “Aemond’s not here?”

“He did say he would call you, though, as soon as he can.”

Aemond isn’t here. “Right. Well, thanks for letting me know, Talia.”You smile at her genuinely, while feeling slightly empty inside from the notion of Aemond’s absence. There was no reason to be excited or nervous, after all. A shame, really. “And please, call me Y/n.”

“Of course, Y/n. And, it’s not a problem. Sir Aemond did seem quite distressed about having to leave. I’m sure he’d be annoyed with me if I don’t let you know.”

“Oh, that’s for sure.” Helaena rolls her eyes, smiling at you. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that my brother’s kinda infatuated with you.”

Before a warmth can develop in your chest from what Helaena claims, another person walks in the kitchen. A long-legged, impossibly unblemished figure that is Alys Rivers.

Talia straightens, not as comfortable around Alys as she is with you and Helaena. She takes that as her cue to leave. She politely addresses each of you in turn. “Have a lovely morning, Ma’am. Y/n. Miss Alys.” Her tone bristles at the last name.

“Sooo,” Alys saunters over to the table, and daintily plops down on the seat opposite you and Helaena, “good morning, girls. You don’t mind if I join you for breakfast, do you?” She pops a piece of fruit in her mouth before you could respond.

“Not at all, Alys.” Helaena sighs. “It would be nice to finally speak to my brother’s…” She trails off, one eyebrow raising slyly. “…friend.”

Alys simply laughs it off, unfazed. “That’s nice of you, Helaena, but you don’t need to watch your words around me. I know that Aemond has never clearly stated what we are yet. But we are something, that much I’m sure of.” Her gaze trails over to you. “Nice sweater. You know, it looks a lot like my Aemond’s.”

My Aemond’s. God help me. “Oh, uhm,” you balk, not wanting to overstep the line with something that is completely none of your business, as far as you’re concerned, “he lent it to me last night. Clumsy ol’ me apparently can’t handle too much red wine. Literally and figuratively.”

You smile at Alys placatingly, but you’re not sure what for. Nothing happened last night, right? Nothing at all.

“Well, it looks good on you, darling.” She winks at you. The more she speaks, the more you realize how self-assured she is. Your first meeting, you’re wearing her… boyfriend’s…. sweater, and she’s only quick to accept your explanation. It’s as if she’s truly certain that no one can steal Aemond away from her.

“Thank you.” You awkwardly say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“So, Alys,” Helaena says, “tell us more about yourself. Surely we cannot just believe everything the gossip blogs say about you.”

“Right, well. I’m aware that I do have a certain image, but that’s all it is. An image. A kind of persona. It makes it easier to draw a line between my job and my personal life. I do enjoy the luxurious and fast-paced lifestyle that modelling brings, but that’s not everything. I am… more than that.”

Her statements catch you by surprise, slightly. You knew more than just to take her reputation at face value, but it’s different now. Aemond’s attraction to her might run deeper than you had hoped.

“I think it’s right that you do whatever you feel is best for you.” You find yourself genuinely saying, empathizing with how she feels. “I can’t claim to know exactly what it’s like, being in the public eye like that, but it must be hard. You should protect yourself, and if keeping up a kind of mask is something that works, then…” You purse your lips, and tilt your head, a show of your approval.

“Solidarity, sister.” Alys smiles at you, one which you return. “I mean, thanks for not judging me right away. Most people do.”

The rest of the morning is spent in a way you never would have expected to enjoy, but you do. Alys turns out to be more friendly than she seems, and it’s plain to see that she truly cares for Aemond. She did share her insecurities when it comes to him, and how he has set implicit boundaries between them.

Whenever she gets too close, he’s only quick to pull away. Aemond has predictably not made it clear what they are, and has never protested when Alys goes on dates with other people. Although she wishes that he would.

Each time Alys hints at how Aemond means to her makes you feel guilty. You know you want him, but she has been in the picture much longer than you. Do you even have a chance? Do you want one?

Eventually, Alys receives a call, which she explains is from her disgruntled manager, telling her that the call time for her photoshoot is nearing. She excuses herself, sashaying confidently out of the apartment. You can’t help but feel small, and the fact that you find her a tad intimidating is the least of your worries.

Aemond seems farther away from you, if he ever was close. Helaena notices your lowered spirits, and she spends the rest of the morning helping you get your mind off things.

But no movie, series, or copious amount of baked goods proves effective.

Despite your best efforts, Aemond Targaryen has taken refuge in your mind. And perhaps, your heart. But you would never admit that too soon.

Especially not now.

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

The weekend is a welcome respite from your busy university schedule. Although you have to work a full shift at a local bookstore, you wouldn’t complain about it. It’s a calm and decent enough part-time job, and while it doesn’t pay much, you’re more than happy to be surrounded by books all day.

You rush into the bookstore, already half an hour late. Your bus was delayed for too long, and you did not even get to pick up your usual coffee on the way.

“Mel?” You call out to the owner. She’s always the first to come in, and open up shop. You rub your boots on the welcome mat, and make your way around the tall bookshelves. You spot her at the counter, arranging yesterday’s receipts into a folder.

“Good morning.” She greets you with her usual warm smile. “Don’t even worry about it, y/n.” She reassures you in time, already knowing you would apologize profusely for being late.

You breathe a sigh of relief, dropping your bag behind the counter. “I’ll just stay a bit later after closing. Help clean up everything.”

“No need.” She places a hand on your shoulder, and whispers close. “By the way, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“A handsome one, might I add. He’s sitting in the corner desk by the Classics section. I found him waiting outside so early. Poor kid said he wanted to be here as soon as the shop opened, and I don’t know about you, but I hardly believe it is because of his raging love for literature.”

“Oh, I see.” You stand dumbfounded, a new sense of nervousness settling over you. That handsome visitor can only be Aemond, can it?

“Go on, honey. Take your time. It’s not like the shop gets particularly busy this early.”

You slowly walk deeper into the shop, past the new releases, the sci-fi section, and then the romance.

And sure enough, there he sits.

His shoulder-length silver hair is in its usual half-up style, and his expensive black coat is draped on the back of his seat. His left hand holds a book on the table, while the other props up his face, his index finger absentmindedly running over his lips, deep in thought.

Your footsteps carry no sound, so he does not notice as you walk closer. You almost don’t want to bother him, as he looks so serene. Faint sunlight from an awning window warms the scene, casting a glow over him. Beautiful.

You find yourself leaning against a bookshelf, studying him, flashes of that night running through your head. He did leave you a message, explaining why he had to leave the morning after. You were not sure what to respond with, apart from “No problem. See you soon.”

Impersonal. Direct. Safe. Getting to know his lover that morning was a sort of wake-up call. You aren’t sure whether you’re ready to dive in deeper into the enigma that he poses. So you decided to leave it at that.

But it clearly was not enough for him, as evidenced by numerous subsequent missed calls.

His head turns, languidly, finally sensing your presence. When your eyes meet, a soft smile forms on his lips.

“Hello, darling.”

Shit. Two simple words and you’re all but ready to let go of any uncertainty you might have about him, then and there.

“Aemond,” you can’t help but smile in return, “to what do I owe this visit?”

He closes his book and sets it down on the table. He turns his body towards you, still seated, leaning back to take you in.

“Would you believe me if I said that I missed you?” He says smoothly, so sure of himself. He stresses, “I miss you.”

“It’s only been days since I last saw you, Aemond.” You roll your eyes in a poor attempt to hide the way you grow flustered.

“Feels like forever.” He stands, walking over to the bookshelf you’re leaning on, making a show of perusing the titles. “You have not answered my calls, darling. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re ignoring me.” He steps closer to you, mirroring your position.

“I was busy.” You respond quickly with a defensive tone. And you were, but not busy enough to avoid staring at your phone every time his name blinks on the screen, waiting for his call to drop.

“Hmm. I was hoping we could have a moment alone. To… talk,” His eyes rake your face, landing on your lips, “or perhaps, more?”

“More? Getting ahead of yourself, Aemond?” You look down, unable to meet his heated gaze.

“I really enjoyed our night together, and I was hoping we could have some more time to ourselves.”

“I’m sure we will. The next time Hel invites me over, or you guys throw a party…” You trail off, raising your head to look at him again, and sure enough, he continues to watch every change in your expression.

“How about now? Could I steal you away for an hour or two? I’m sure Melanie wouldn’t mind.”

“Already on first-name basis with my boss. Fast work, Aemond.”

“She’s a sweet woman. Nurturing. I’m glad you have someone like her as your supervisor.” His lips quirk in amusement.

“Really…” you raise your eyebrows.

“Mhmm. If she was unfair or unpleasant to you in any way, I would not hesitate to have someone better appointed in her stead.” He explains smugly.

“It’s an independent bookstore, Aemond, and not one of the hundred businesses your great empire owns. You wouldn’t have the jurisdiction.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” He lowers his face nearer to yours, his breath fanning your face. He continues, “I don’t believe you understand how much I would be willing to do for you.”

His proximity makes you short of breath, so you take a step back, wanting to clear your head. A frown materializes on his face, but it disappears just as quick as it arrived. He is determined to make himself heard.

“I have known you for a good part of a year now, y/n. And… my admiration for you has only blossomed as time passed. When we had a moment to ourselves that night, it just felt… right.”

“Aemond… ”

“I’m inclined to assume that you feel the same way. At least, I hope.”

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you struggle to match his unabashed sincerity. “I’m not sure where this will lead. What you expect this to be. You already have… someone… ”

“Someone?” Props to him for seeming genuinely clueless as to who you’re referring to.

“I met her the morning after. Alys. She’s actually quite lovely.”

“It’s not what you think.” He finally looks away, his mood changed with the mention of Alys.

You sigh flatly, "That is exactly what someone involved would say. Look, I have no interest in ruining anyone's relationship - "

"I am not in a relationship - "

"But there is something between you and Alys, isn't there?"

"We aren't together. I have made this clear to her, time and again." He paces at the aisle, running his hand over the books. "Though I admit, in the times when I need... company... she's the one I have become accustomed to calling."

"Company." You almost roll your eyes at his casual implication.

"Hmm." His lips curl in distaste. "It does not come easy for me to connect with anyone. Even for a purpose as unseemly as that."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know, I just... hope that you don't think any less of me."

"Aemond," you take a step forward, "you're free to want... company with whomever you want. So is Alys. But I can't get into this, whatever this is, with you if I will have to share you with anyone else."

"You won't. That already is far from the truth, darling. I have not even considered anyone else for a while now."

"But Alys - "

"I did not invite her over that night. I hadn't even seen her in weeks. Nothing happened after you left my bedroom."

"She cares about you. A lot."

"I know," he shakes his head slightly, "and I care about her, too. But it never became..." He bows his head, almost sheepishly. "... it's not... I don't love her."

Your gaze softens as you watch the torment in his expression. It becomes clear that Aemond does not throw around the word love without care. He sounds cautious. Nervous, almost.

His eyes find yours suddenly, the intensity behind them catching you by surprise.

"But you..." His brows furrow in frustration. He takes a deep breath, before repeating, almost accusingly, "You."

Suddenly, he pulls you close by the waist. His violet eyes keep you in place, holding you dear.

You take each other in with hungry eyes. His every little movement, every twitch, catches your attention. The way his lips purse, the way he swallows nervously. A stray strand of silver hair has fallen in front of his face, and you unconsciously reach up for it, your hand freezing mid-air when you realize what you're doing.

His hand comes up to caress yours, and slowly, he presses a soft kiss to your palm.

A soft moan nearly escapes your lips at how soft the gesture is. How gentle it feels. How right.

"I want you." He says, still holding your hand.

The two of you stand, mere inches away from one another.

Until a startled voice pierces the atmosphere, destroying the mood. "Shit, excuse me."

A boy stands in the middle of the aisle, a book in his hand. The day's first customer. He smiles sheepishly, pointing to the section you and Aemond have conveniently blocked, "Sorry, uh, I need to check out some of those."

You quickly step away from the shelf, and from Aemond. "Oh, excuse us. Please go right ahead." You wave him through.

Aemond does not move, his eyes irately landing on the boy. He is plainly displeased at the intrusion, not bothering to hide it. Spoiled, rich baby.

"Aemond, move over here." You address him, pulling at his hand. That gets his attention.

He does not let go of your hand, and directs you to the next aisle. But the haze has subsided for you. Or at least, it has to, for now.

"I have to work." You mumble. The words sound so dull after everything that has been said.

"Alright. I'll wait here."

"Pardon?"

"I'll wait here until you can leave with me for a little while."

Your mouth parts in frustration, confusion, or is it awe? You no longer know for sure. This day is certainly shaping up to be more eventful than you are prepared for.

"Aemond," you try to implore gently, "my first break is in four hours. Surely, you won't just wait here until then."

"Why ever not?" He looks amused at your growing incredulity. "I've got time to kill. Besides, I've got all these books to keep me busy."

"You would wait for me for four hours, and then what?"

"Then, I suppose, I'll take you out for lunch." His thumb continues to draw circles on the back of your hand, which almost escapes your notice. It felt so normal, just as if he has held your hand a thousand times before.

His hand reaches up to stroke your cheekbone, before tilting your head up at him. "Please say yes, darling."

Your heart races, even without its usual helping of caffeine. Looking at Aemond, you think that your break cannot come soon enough.

"Okay."

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

For the next four hours, Aemond keeps his word and waits.

He moves to a table within eyeshot of the counter where you're working. It is clear that he is watching you, glancing at you from time to time and throwing a smirk your way.

You struggle to keep up appearances, cordially greeting customers and ringing in their purchases. You fight the temptation to walk over to Aemond, nudge his face towards his book, and tell him to quit staring at you like that.

His presence makes you infinitely more self-aware, and you try not to watch your every move, but you do anyway.

Aemond seems content to wait in silence, poring over the pages of his novel, until someone in particular walks in the store.

“I’m sorry, miss, I must be in the wrong place. My good friend Y/n promised that this would be the best bookstore in the city.” A familiar voice says. “Seems cozy, sure, but far from the best, wouldn’t you say?”

You look up at the new arrival, whom you immediately recognize. Aemond visibly straightens in his corner, noticing him as well.

“Jace!” You exclaim brightly, reaching over the counter to give him a hug.

Jacaerys chuckles deeply, and you can't help but feel warm at the sound. The sound of his laughter is something you love about him, genuine and free.

"Somebody missed me." His voice is muffled against your hair, and his arms wrap around you tightly.

"Course I did." You move to stand in front of him. "Back from Pentos so soon?"

"Yes, I finished my course early. I'm just that smart, as you well know." He taps the side of his head smugly.

"Ha-ha." You playfully punch his shoulder.

"Nephew." Aemond greets, interrupting your little reunion. "It's been a while."

"Aemond," Jace turns around to face him, "I didn't notice you, dear uncle. You look well."

"As do you." Aemond replies stoically. His hands are neatly kept behind his back, and he watches you and Jacaerys with keen eyes. "I was not aware that you and Y/n are so close."

You know that Aemond does not have the best relationship with his half-sister Rhaenyra's children. At first, you could not understand why. Jace and his siblings are among the kindest boys you've met. Luke is a bit roguish, but that is part of his charm.

But that was before Helaena explained to you how Aemond must have felt neglected growing up, always in the shadow of his nephews, who are much favoured by his own father Viserys. Helaena learned not to mind, telling you how she has found peace with her own self and her passions. She is aware that Viserys loves Rhaenyra above everyone else, and by extension, Rhaenyra's children. His marriage to their mother Alicent was borne out of necessity, not love.

And she only hinted at it, but apparently, Aemond was also bullied by the younger boys when they were children. Of course, that was long ago, but some scars never fully heal.

"We're good friends, Aemond." Jace responds, putting one arm over your shoulders, a movement that makes Aemond's lips curl in distaste. "Met her through Hel, of course, and I just couldn't get enough of this little rascal." He squeezes your shoulders, pulling you closer, making you wrap an arm around his waist.

"You're the rascal, leaving me for nearly half a year like that." You jest, matching his smile.

"Well, I'm back now, aren't I?" He says, then he turns back to his uncle, "What are you doing here, by the way? Just browsing for a new read?"

"No," Aemond loosens his stance a bit, looking at you, "I'm actually waiting to take Y/n out on a date."

A date? Is that what I agreed to?

"To lunch." You clarify, meeting his gaze.

"A lunch date." Aemond simply shrugs, deeming the matter settled.

"Uh-huh." Jace looks between the two of you, growing amused. "Listen, uncle, could you give me just a few minutes with Y/n. Then, I promise, she's all yours."

Aemond stands still for a few seconds, deliberating whether he should leave you with Jace. The silence is utterly deafening, so you say, "Aemond. I'll be with you in a bit. We can head out soon."

"Hmm." He relents, then stalks back to his table, his silver hair gently flowing behind his neck.

Jace watches Aemond walk away with a weird look on his face, and you already know what's coming next.

"Y/n?" Jace smirks at you. "What is going on?"

"He's... here for me."

"Worked your magic on him, I see? I remember you having a crush on him and all..."

"Alright, pipe down about it." Your face becomes flushed, and you catch Aemond's eye in the corner. "I didn't even do anything. He sought me out."

"Riiiight," Jace says, "and this is what you want?"

You shrug, "I do like him. You know this."

Jace studies your expression, seeing sincerity but also a tinge of something else. Doubt, perhaps? "Just be careful, alright? My uncle can be a little... unpredictable."

"He's... I mean, he actually seems a lot better than I expected. It's a shame you two aren't close."

"Yes, well, some things can't be helped." Jace's eyebrows furrow in thought. "What about that model that he's rumoured to be seeing? He can't keep messing around with her, if he wants you, y/n."

"Oh, I even met her, actually. She's nice. But Aemond says that they're apparently... over. Or... not working out. You know, I'm not sure." You shake your head, not wanting to think about it any further. It isn't really a matter that's been resolved yet.

"Okay, just be careful, alright? You're too good for him, y/n."

"Don't worry about me, Jace." You smile, looping your arm with his as you lean against the counter. "How's the family? How are Luke and Joffrey?"

"Well, Luke is Luke. You know. Gets into a fair share of trouble, what with his penchant for racing cars and all. Bloody well gives mum a heart attack each time he has to do a competition. I think he's coming back tomorrow from some race in Casterly Rock."

"That's our Luke." You sigh fondly.

"And Joff's as sweet as ever. Nearly done with middle school, that one. You're invited to his finishing ceremony, of course."

You smirk at his assurance, "I think Joff should be the one to invite me, no?"

Jace moves to stand in front of you again. "Doesn't matter. I'm the big brother, I say you're in."

He cages you in, with each of his hands on the counter. You then press your forehead against his chest, and he rests his chin atop your head. A position that the two of you have gotten so used to doing. Jace is truly like a brother to you, and he loves you like his actual sister in turn.

"Mmm, I did miss this." You breathe.

Aemond's fist bunches on the table, his book long-forgotten. You and Jacaerys were only friends, right? So why did he have to feel so uneasy?

He stands, not able to watch the scene any longer, and walks over to claim what he thinks should be his.

"Let's go." Aemond's voice pierces the silence, catching you by surprise. You move away from Jace, and throw him a sheepish smile, as if to apologize for Aemond's behaviour.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Jace’s arm drops from your sides, and he takes a step back to keep Aemond’s envy from worsening.

“Won’t you join us for lunch?” You ask Jace. One glance at Aemond, and it’s plain to see that he’s not particularly fond of that idea.

“Nah, you two go ahead. I’ve got some matters to attend to.” Jace is quick to respond. Whether he’s telling the truth, or he just wants to appease Aemond, you remind yourself to ask him about it later.

“Nice seeing you, uncle.” Jace says to Aemond, as he heads for the door.

His hand is already at the doorknob, when he recalls something. He calls out to you, “Y/n, you will be coming to the Dragonstone ball, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet.” You reply. The annual Dragonstone ball is a grand event held by the Targaryens, and almost anyone of repute is sure to be invited. Celebrities, philanthropists, academics. You vaguely recall seeing last year’s ball everywhere in the news. That must have been around the time you first met Helaena, your friendship quickly developing soon after.

“Well if you are, would you - ” Jace begins to say, but he is immediately interrupted by Aemond.

“She’ll be coming with me.” Aemond declares.

“I am?” You say, startled, as you pick up your bag from behind the counter.

“Mmm. You are, darling.”

What the hell?

“See you around, y/n.” Jace relents, taking note of the heightened tension in the room.  

As soon as he’s gone, you address the silver-haired scoundrel who was quick to make a decision for you, much to your annoyance. “Listen, sweetheart,” you pat him on the chest, and head for the door, expecting him to follow suit, “it’s not going to be that easy.”

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

The two of you sit in the secluded veranda of a Valyrian restaurant that, unsurprisingly, is owned by the Targaryens. Beautifully gilded tables are nestled in a garden, and Aemond had led you to their best section under an archway. The restaurant had been empty when you arrived, with all the staff standing ready to usher you inside. You suspect that Aemond went ahead and purposefully reserved the entire place for this very afternoon, but you let it slide.

“When is the Dragonstone ball?” you ask, after finishing most of your meal.

“I’d say in around two months. My mother is overseeing everything, as usual, so it’s really all up to her.”

“And,” you lean back, smiling wryly, “apparently, I am going with you?”

Aemond smirks, “Why wouldn’t you?”

You scoff. The ‘Prince of the city’ sure has a pair on him. “I don’t know, Aemond. Maybe because you did not really ask me to come with you.”

His smirk does not fade. He leans forward, taking your hand from across the table, his fingers tracing your skin. Your prideful facade is at risk of breaking, and you wish to simply hold his hand back lovingly.

But you keep a hold of yourself, waiting.

“Darling,” the corner of his lips turn up in amusement, most likely at your rapidly changing expression, “would you do me the honour of being my partner…” He deliberately pauses, taking delight in how your eyes widen, “… to the Dragonstone ball?”

Oh, you little shit. “Mmm,” you swallow, attempting to steel your nerves. Aemond patiently waits for your response, the damage already done. For a split second, he gets the urge to reach for your knee underneath the table.

Perhaps to comfort you. Or solely for his pleasure, adding to your already fluttering heartbeat. Or both.

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “I will go with you. Thank you for asking.”

Aemond smiles brightly, the dimples on his cheeks deepening. “I’m glad, darling.”

Something crosses your mind, and before you can push it down, curiosity gets the better of you. You find yourself asking, “By the way, who did you go with last year?”

His face falls, “You probably already know. Alys.”

“Of course,” you nod, “and the year before that? Her as well?”

“Y/n,” he says sternly, “that’s not of any importance.”

“Won’t she be expecting to go with you again this year?” You ask.

He simply shrugs, “She may have mentioned something recently to that effect.”

“Aemond - ”

“Look, the main reason why I brought her to previous balls was because I’ve always been expected to take a date. It’s just the proper thing to do, to keep up appearances, though I don’t really agree with it. If I were to bring someone, I don’t want to do it out of obligation. And I can finally do that now, with you. I want to be with you, and take you as my partner for the ball.”

How can I argue with that? It’s almost impossible, when his violet eyes blaze at me in the way that they always do.

“I just,” you look away, choosing to admire the way the vines wrap themselves around the archway, to distract yourself from Aemond’s heated gaze, “I don’t want her to feel like she’s being slighted in any way. I don't want her to feel like I’m… stealing you away… or something.”

Aemond smiles, “By all means, steal me away, darling.”

“I’m being serious.” You attempt a stern tone, but it falls flat as soon as you see his smile.

“I was never hers to keep. You, however…”

“What?”

“You’re more than welcome to call me yours, if you wish.”

“Aemond.” You want to scold him for being so forward, not when there are some things that still need to be resolved. But you also want to trust him, to trust in whatever it is the two of you are becoming.

You realize you are already in too deep. How? The possibility of ever losing him is enough to fill your stomach with dread. If Aemond will be yours, then he will also be yours to lose.

And you don’t know what you will do if that happens.

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

The next two weeks pass by in relative bliss. Aemond makes an effort to see you almost every day, visiting you in the bookstore or meeting you after your lectures. You learn more about him in this time, than in the past year you’ve known him. The two of you have always admired each other from afar, but now that Aemond has begun to completely open up to you, it’s as if you’ve known him your whole life.

It's as if he’s one of the pillars holding everything together around you. A comfortable constant. As well as a conflagration, casting his radiance over everything. Aemond is like a magnet, a desirable paradox drawing everyone to him. The amount of looks you get from your fellow students whenever Aemond picks you up from university made you uneasy at first, but you’ve learned to find the humour in it.

Aemond’s smug smirk at their reaction each time he takes your hand, stealing you away, is surely enough to make you feel giddy inside.

Everything seemed too good to be true, and perhaps it was.

The abrupt end to this brief golden period began one evening, as you and Helaena are in her bedroom, perusing through countless gown designs online to wear for the Dragonstone ball.

Aemond had been away on business to a nearby city, and you eagerly await his return. Then a sharp ringing echoes throughout the room, coming from Helaena’s phone, a sound that makes you anxious though you cannot pinpoint why in the moment.

She glances at the screen, before quickly turning to you. “It’s my father.”

“Oh, answer it then.”

“That’s strange,” her face contorts in confusion, “he almost never calls.”

Helaena excuses herself, walking over to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her reflection on the glass is only faintly visible to you, and you struggle to make anything out of the muffled conversation.

A long, torturous minute passes before the call finishes. When Helaena turns to face you, her face is white as a sheet.

You stand, and rush over to her side. “Hel? What is it?”

At your touch, something snaps in her, and she becomes frantic. “It’s… it’s my brother… it’s Aemond… ” She quickly scrambles around the room, putting on her coat and shoes.

“Aemond?” You feel nauseous with worry. “What happened, Hel?”

“I have to get to the hospital. Aemond and Luke got into an accident.”

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

An entire week passes before you hear from any of them. Helaena had rushed off alone to the hospital that night, and while you were desperate to come along and see Aemond, she explained that her parents preferred that only family came to visit.

You understood. Or at least, you tried to. You went home feeling weak all over, and it only worsened when you saw that the accident was already plastered all over the news.

It was reported that Aemond and Lucerys were each driving their cars at dangerous speeds, when one of them must have collided with the other, crashing onto the freeway. It was alleged that Aemond’s car had flipped over multiple times before finally landing down a hill. The extent of their injuries are not made public, probably at the authority of Viserys himself, but the masses have been quick to speculate.

Jace calls you while you are staying home one afternoon, having opted out of attending all your lectures for the day. For the past few days, actually.

“Hey, you,” He greets softly, knowing how you must already be reeling with stress. “Holding up okay?”

“Me? What about you, Jace? How is everyone? How is Luke? Aemond? Fuck, I haven’t heard from anyone.”

He breathes, “We’re fine, y/n. Luke just has a broken leg, but it should heal fine. He does have to put up with a cast for several weeks, though.”

Okay. Luke is alright. But you still can’t let out a sigh of relief, not until…

“What about Aemond?” You ask nervously.

“That’s… another thing.”

“Please just tell me, Jace.”

“Are you home? I’m actually nearby. We should maybe discuss this in person.” He offers.

And only half an hour later, he is standing at your door. You quickly envelop him in a tight hug, and he breathes deeply, feeling comforted by your presence.

Once the two of you are settled on your couch, cups of warm tea held between each of your hands, you begin talking.

“Aemond is fine. For the most part.” He says. “He’s alive and well, but he’s suffered an injury.”

“What injury?”

“He doesn’t want anyone to know, Y/n. At least, not just yet.”

You pause, unsure if you want to press further. You do want to know, but you also want to respect Aemond’s privacy. Besides, if he wanted you to know, he would tell you himself, wouldn’t he?

“I understand,” you relent, sinking into the couch, “I’m just glad they’re okay.”

Jace notices your distress, and reaches for you, “Come here.”

The embrace offers a momentary respite. Your head drops down on his shoulder, and you both enjoy the silence that follows.

“One thing’s for sure,” Jace says after a while, “There’s no way in hell that mum is letting Luke drive again. At least not for a long, long fucking time.”

You smile at that, feeling light for the first time in a while.

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

The Dragonstone ball is once again making its rounds in the media, and this year, it is reported to have been delayed for two more months, allowing the dust to settle over the terrible accident that befell two of the Targaryen heirs.

Just a week after you learn about this piece of news, you finally hear from Aemond.

Your heart skips a beat when his name flashes on the screen, and you pick up your phone with a slightly trembling hand. You press the green button, and lift the phone to one ear.

Nothing. But then, you hear soft breathing at the other end. It’s a silly notion, but you think you recognize those breaths to be his. It can only be him.

“Aemond, I know you’re there.” You say, biting your lip in anticipation.

“Dar…” he cuts himself off, “Y/n. I’m alright, I apologize for only calling you now.”

Coldness seeps in your bones when you notice how he corrected himself. Why?

“It’s alright, Aemond. I’m just relieved that you’re fine. I was so worried, you have no idea.”

The sound of your voice tugs at his heart, one which he sorely missed. He swallows, struggling to bring himself to say what he means to. “I need to tell you something. About the ball… I’ve decided that I should take Alys instead. She was already expecting that she is to be my date, and I just think that it’s rude if I…”

“That’s fine.” You say, far too quickly, not believing your own words. “I… I did consider that. You should take her.”

“Darling,” Aemond finally says, unable to hold back, “I…”

“It’s okay,” you attempt to comfort him, but it’s mostly for your own sake, “I completely understand.”

He takes a deep breath. As he envisions how you must look on the other line, he instantly feels a pang of regret.

“I’ll… I’ll see you around, yeah?” You say, wanting to be done with this damned call.

“Hmm. I’ll see you, darling.”

You throw your phone down on your desk. Feeling numb all over, you make your way to the kitchen, and quickly take a bottle of red bottle from the cabinet. You make quick work of the cork, and pour yourself a hefty amount.

You slosh the liquid around your glass, staring at that familiar shade of maroon.

And sure enough, it brings you back to that night on their balcony.

“For fuck’s sake.” You whisper to yourself. Closing your eyes, you see him.

What happened, Aemond? Have I already lost you?

“How could I?” You say bitterly. “When he was never mine?”

The part two preview that I posted, has been relegated to part three, after much editing. It's meant to be a steamy, little scene that unfolds in the Dragonstone ball.

And I had to work in the tragic injury that Aemond suffers in a way that might be suited to this modern setting. It's just hard for me to picture child on child violence happening here, with one of them taking a brutal dagger to the eye. At least not in this world, which is meant to resemble ours 😂

Oohh and thoughts on Jace? I actually don't intend him to be a love interest for the reader, and more so a genuine friend. But Aemond doesn't need to know that, does he? He surely won't believe it in the events at follow... 😏

Taglist for this series is still open (for now) so comment below if you wish to be added. 🤍

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @bdpst-massacre @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @depressedperson88 @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @noxytopy @louschan @aemondssuit @virginslut08 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @booknerd2004 @sarcasticfangirl @witchyvik @julieeba @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @account3168 @this-is-a-bad-idea @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @its-hopes-world @ririrare @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07

[striderepiphany]

My favorite reddie fics masterpost

I have an absolutely insane number of reddie fics saved in my bookmarks for how recently I joined this fandom so I decided to share my absolute favorites with you. Please give these authors some love and let me know which ones are you've read and enjoyed!

the year of the goat and your kid back by derryfacts2

1 chapter, 14,838 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: The day you get the most important email of your life, there’s a new black skidmark on the wall of the stairwell, and you know exactly whose fault it is. “Margaret,” you intone to the harried, wild-haired woman in the lobby. She sighs at you as she tries to jimmy her mail key loose. “I know.” It wouldn’t even be that bad if the kid would just skateboard outside. Or get good at skateboarding. Either of those things. Maggie’s a nice lady, though, and she’s had “trying my best” scribbled all over her since they moved into 6B maybe eight years ago. So you try not to be a dick, even if her son is a gold-standard pain in the ass. He’s good for three things: smells, noise, and reminding you how big Eddie must be by now.

The first It fic I read that made me go "holy shit, this is fantastic" and remains one of my all-timers (hence why its first in this list). Really fun and unique outsider POV from Eddie's estranged gay dad, and tells a very sweet story mostly through dialogue. Young adult Eddie and Richie are very cute.

i think the clock is slow by derryfacts2 (again)

3 chapters, 15,815 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: So there was that reason that work wasn’t boring, too. There was Richie’s soppy campaign of making cow eyes at the back of Eddie’s head as he passed, gently pressing Betty for details about his personal life (“I don’t think he has one. He had this awful fiancé a few years ago, but we’re all glad that’s over”), and chasing the incomparable high of a quiet, muttered “Thanks, Rich” whenever Richie picks something up for him from the copier.

Richie is a wannabe stand-up comic daylighting as the receptionist at Eddie's office. Eddie is a tightly-wound corporate asshole. They are both disasters. Or: five times Richie watched Eddie and one that Eddie watched him back.

I really enjoy workplace dramas and this one satisfied the itch so well. So many good scenes and dialogue, this author characterizes them in a way that really works for me. The perfect read-in-an-afternoon fic.

listen to my heart (can you hear it sing?) by vampirerising

12 chapters, 137,708 words, Major Character Death. Summary: "You need to wake up now,” Stan says softly. “This isn’t real.”

“I know, but I can’t,” Richie sobs. “I don’t want to be here.” Not again. Never again. It is dead, why is It still haunting him?

Stan fixes him with one of those looks of his, the one where he can see his every thought as if it were written on his face. “That’s not true, Trashmouth.”

Alternatively: We all know Richie gets caught in the Deadlights, but do we really know what happens after?

(Deadlights, timelines, Stan’s ghostly meddling—oh, my.)

This one is fucking weird in a way that I absolutely adore. Kind of like a sci-fi novel in that it requires you to pay attention to figure out what the fuck is going on but its so good and worth it. The MCD is Stan, not Eddie, and the last couple chapters are actually a very normal domestic Eddie lives AU. One of the first reddie artworks I made was fanart for a scene from this fic that I really enjoy.

a strange sense of familiarity by Katranga

21 chapters, 103,571 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "So Eddie, what brings you to the bar tonight?" Richie asked. "Gonna rebound from the divorce? Pick up a hot young twenty-something to feel young again?” “Fuck you,” Eddie said, jutting his chin forward. “What a terrible way to ruin the mood.” “I’m sorry, all my moods are poorly cultivated. What mood were you looking for?” A nervous lump grew in Eddie's throat. He threw back his drink to get rid of it.

Hand wrapped around the glass he’d just slammed back onto the bar, he said, “The mood that gets me leaving with a schlubby forty-something.”

Pre-chapter two, Eddie and Richie meet and don't remember each other, but have an instant connection anyway...

This one is just... so fucking good. Decently long without ever feeling like it's dragging. Part 1 is them developing their totally-casual-I-swear relationship, which blows up right when Mike calls them back to Derry. Part 2 is them navigating both killing a nightmare clown demon and the awkwardness between them. Also everybody lives! So that's nice.

change partners by avacadomoon (with podfic available)

1 chapter, 30,453 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Rich," Eddie says heavily. Meaningfully, and Richie holds his breath, both afraid and hopeful that Eddie is about to say something really sappy, like I always knew and it didn't matter to me, or you know I support you no matter what. Eddie takes a deep breath before he speaks, and Richie closes his eyes, braced for it. "I didn't look at your dick pics."

"Well hey, Eds, thanks," Richie says, laughing incredulously. "Thanks for that."

I LOVE THIS ONE SOOO FUCKING MUCH. I urge you to consider this as a rec for this author as well, as they have a bunch of other reddie fics I think are fantastic. I have a weakness for any reddie fic that lets them be just a little mean to each other. As a treat. (Also the podfic is very well done, you should check that out too.)

check raise by avacodomoon

1 chapter, 15,061 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Eddie, not a fan of stand up comedy, not a fan of his beer," Rich says, leaning back on one elbow and squinting at him, like he's lining him up in a camera lens frame, "but what is he doing drinking alone?"

"I was alone, and now I'm not," Eddie says. "Some prick sat down next to me and started yapping."

"Ah, unpleasant to talk to," Rich concludes. "Explains a lot."

I know I meant the last rec as a blanket rec for all this author's works but I'm including this one specifically because it has a twist ending that is well-foreshadowed and it slapped my dick clean off.

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives by IfItHollers

11 chapters, 107,947 words, Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings. Summary: In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Definitely NOT your average Eddie lives AU. Drama! Mild peril! Psychic abilities! The ghost of Stanley Uris collect calling from beyond the grave via Richie Tozier's vocal chords! Fun and freaky and weird. Three things that make any fic a Josh favorite.

I'm going to stop there because I'm sleepy but let me know if you want more! Like I said I've got like 70 of these lovingly tucked in my bookmarks and I'm happy to share with the class.

[manicplank]

How do they act when they are sleep deprived

~~totally not asking cus it's 3:14 am and I can't sleep~~

well it's 1 a.m. where I live and I also can't sleep

Peppino: He handles sleep deprivation pretty well, considering he's almost always sleep deprived. He's sluggish and slow. He looks extra depressed. He gets pretty quiet.

Gustavo: He gets sooo tired. He can barely keep his eyes open. If he leans up against a wall and closes his eyes, he'll fall asleep. He's not as nice as he usually is.

Mr. Stick: Can't stay awake. Lays his head down wherever he can and rests. He gets very cranky and snarky. He drinks twice as much coffee as usual.

Pepperman: He starts losing his mind and talking nonsense. You would think he's on drugs, but no. He just hasn't slept in a few days.

The Vigilante: He gets super grumpy. He has the most tired and mean stare imaginable. He'll fall asleep super easily. You'll be talking to him, and then he starts snoring.

The Noise: MEAN. NASTY. CRANKY. He is the biggest asshole in the world when he's sleep deprived. That, or he gets whiny and moody like a toddler. Fucking manchild.

Noisette: She. Is. MEAN. This sweet little lady instantly turns into the devil. She will scream and snap. No amount of coffee will soothe her. Or, like Noise, she gets whiny and sad easily.

Fake Peppino: Grumpy! He either gets really angry or really sad. He is more likely to throw a tantrum when he's sleep deprived. However, he can go a long time without sleep before he needs it.

Pizzahead: FUCKING MOODY. He gets mood swings real bad. He might be happy and giddy one moment, then BAM! FURIOUS! He's also more likely to cry.

Pillar John: He becomes very stoic. He's not jolly like he usually is. He's very numb and will stare off into space a lot.

Gerome: He's his usual self. Except, somehow, he manages to care even LESS than he already does. He already barely cares, but without sleep? Nah, nothing.