Cee. she/her. 27. 18+ only please. Six idiots side blog but mostly thirsting after Mat Baynton. Also on twitter @ demontoucansam. main account: goddesstonythetiger
I love how Simon meets Patty and is like "this is the weirdest fucking girl I've met in my life" and less than 24 hours later he's like "Oh shit I might be in love"
i like how simon dinner in america eats his meals like a stray dog. it’s very endearing. i also like how he gets the shit kicked out of him and fails at almost everything he does
still rotating dinner in america in my mind like a microwavable meal and i just keep thinking about how simon comes across as an edgelord punk who is so disparaging of anything that he views as inauthentic -- a family sitting down for a sunday dinner pretending to like or even be interested in one another, eyeliner punk bands that make music for 14 year old girls (who are, to him, the shallow money machines for these equally shallow bands), people just going through the motions of life without appearing to question anything -- that he becomes hellbent on making sure that he can never be perceived as part of any of the above... which only leads him to his own brand of inauthenticity. he says shit that he doesn't really mean for the sake of shock value; he wraps his appearance, his actions, his personality around pushing against and testing other people. and in this act of self-isolation, he believes it's just his reality. the only thing we can say for sure that he is absolutely, singularly real about is his music -- hard and fast punk rock that is not meant to be consumable by the masses that he is quite literally selling his blood, plasma, and general well-being to make a limited number of physical copies for. he's willing to do that and more to get the money, because he is absolutely, diametrically opposed to the purely capitalism-focused Industry getting anywhere near his music.
and it's not until he meets patty, understands exactly who she is and how she sees and functions in the world, that simon feels he finally has someone who gets him and can drop the overcompensating edgelord act a little. he knows she gets it, more than he will ever be able to get her, and he's absolutely entranced by her. he quickly falls in love with this girl who is his main audience, even if she doesn't have the outward personality or appearance of even being on its fringes. the way he tries to throw off everyone else doesn't hold a candle to how he's completely thrown off by her, and she does it without even trying. she doesn't have to try because she is so unabashedly, constantly herself -- there is never a moment where patty tries to come across as something she's not, even to prove a point. even when she has moments of self-consciousness and asks him if he finds her weird, and he says "yes and not in a good way" at first, she doesn't change because she can't not be herself. there's no shame in where she comes from. she's just herself. and simon cannot say the same for himself; her complete authenticity is punk as fuck, and he's in love with her for it. can take a page out of her playbook, even.
so when he smuggles her into his old bedroom and tells her he wants to make a song out of one of her John Q poems, we finally get to the exact, real root of how he feels about music: it's not about the genre, or even about being aggressively counterculture. it's about whether it's real. and it can be in the form of hard and fast punk or, as he describes patty's poetry, "brilliant power-pop songs". it doesn't matter how it sounds, the type of appearance it packages itself in -- it only matters if it's unabashedly authentic. because that's all he wants: he wants everything to be in its realest form, and patty delivers that to him in total technicolor.
Happy reunion for dear @adhdthomasthorne !
This was an amazing journey, thank you very much for this request!
I had so much joy and interest for frawin them!
You have an amazing story!
I hope we can work again together someday, you are always welcome with any idea!
Summary: Being Mr. Fickelgruber’s personal assistant involves a lot of duties that one might not expect, but you’re willing to go that extra mile.
Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral Sex (M!Receiving), Desk Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Implied Exhibitionism, Unprofessional Behaviour, Boss/Employee, A little bit of degradation, softness towards the end.
A/N: Hope you enjoy 😘 The idea of Fickelgruber asking you whether you prefer the taste of chocolate or something else (😉) was inspired by @reluctantjoe
Word Count: 1922
Fickelgruber Tag List: I don't have one yet!! Send me an ask (off-anon or with the blog you want me to tag noted in the ask) and I'll make sure to tag you anytime I write stuff for him ❤️
~~~
Things like this certainly hadn’t been in your job description, but at this point, you weren’t really complaining. For starters, the pay was amazing, and Mr. Fickelgruber gave you all kinds of perks when you did a good job. He wasn’t the most generous man you’d ever met, but he always appreciated your hard work.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice strained as he tangled his fingers in your hair. You moaned softly at the praise, and the vibrations sent bolts of pleasure through his entire body. That made him moan too, and tug gently on your hair.
Your knees were beginning to ache where you were kneeling, but honestly, you didn’t mind too much. You were far too focused on the task Mr. Fickelgruber had assigned to you to think about the pain, because you were nothing if not efficient.
Your tongue swirled gracefully around his shaft as you took him deeper into your mouth, the movement making Fickelgruber’s hips buck upwards slightly. It almost made you gag, but you were used to it - you’d been his personal assistant for nearly two years, and you’d been fulfilling his… non-professional needs for just under half that time.
And because of that, you could read him and his reactions quite well. You could tell from the sound of his breathing and the way his fingers were rubbing against your scalp that he was getting close. Any moment now he would either cum down your throat or pull out of your mouth - sometimes he’d cum on your face, while at other times he’d want to fuck you properly (and that’s how you knew when you’d done a particularly good job).
Then, like clockwork, he used his grip on your hair to pull you off of him. He hadn’t cum yet, so you knew that meant your work was far from finished. His free hand grabbed for the box of chocolates that he always kept in his desk drawer for these exact occasions. Your mouth was still open, and Fickelgruber placed the little treat on your tongue once he’d removed it from its wrapping.
"There you go, my dear," he said in a tone that was almost affectionate, but it was offset by the nearly painful grip he still had on your hair. The chocolate was absolutely delicious, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and moan while you savoured the taste. This made him smirk, a quiet, dark chuckle escaping him. "Tell me, which do you enjoy more? The taste of my cock, or chocolate?"
Once you’d swallowed the chocolate, you spoke. "I can’t decide, sir," you said softly, staring up at him with your eyes wide. "I like both too much. I don’t think I could pick one over the other."
"Well, I suppose that’s an adequate answer." Fickelgruber smirked, finally letting go of your hair. Whether it was his cock or his chocolate that you were tasting, it was all him, wasn’t it? He pulled his chair back slightly so that you could stand up, and once you had, he reached out to idly play with the hem of your skirt. "Now, you know what to do, my dear." He held his finger up and twirled it around - a silent order for you to turn around.
You did so, and anticipating what he would ask next, you bent forward over his desk. Your skirt - which was scandalously short by professional standards, though Mr. Fickelgruber had called it your 'special uniform' - rode up so that Fickelgruber could get a glimpse of your panties beneath.
Fickelgruber snickered. "Oh, I am so glad to have an assistant that takes the initiative." His hand trailed up the back of your thigh until he reached your skirt, which he then pushed up. Now that he had a proper view of your undergarments, he let his finger brush over the wet spot that had formed there. "So wet already, dear, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he told you in a teasing voice. "You really must love having my cock in your mouth."
"Yes, sir," you moaned, trying to push your hips back against his finger in an attempt to get some more friction. In response, Fickelgruber laughed softly and gently swatted you on the backside. You whimpered slightly at the sting, and immediately ceased your movements. "Sorry, sir."
His fingers found the waistband of your panties, and he slowly began to pull them down your thighs, savouring the sight of you bent over for him. Fickelgruber loved how obedient you were, how needy you always were for him. But most of all, he loved that you were all his, and that he was the only man who had the pleasure of having you like this.
You heard Fickelgruber stand up from his chair, and then you felt his warm fingers teasing your pussy, moving from your clit down to your entrance and then back again. It took all of your willpower to not squirm. His finger dipped into your wetness for a moment, before he pulled it back out. He leaned over you to whisper into your ear. "I think you’re more than ready. Isn’t that right, my dear?"
"Mmm, yes, sir… please…" You nodded frantically, bracing yourself for him to finally enter you. He stood back up straight behind you, and you felt his cock against your entrance. He didn’t push inside right away, however - instead taking a few moments to tease you. You didn't complain, because you knew that it would be more than worth the wait.
You let out an almost pathetic whimper - which you tried to cover up by clapping your hand over your mouth, but you weren't quick enough - when you felt him sink inside of you. Though you couldn't see, he smirked at the noise, and placed his hands on your hips.
Fickelgruber let out a deep sigh, giving the both of you just a few seconds to adjust before he began to move. He moved slowly but deep and hard, making sure you felt absolutely everything with each thrust he made inside of you. You were sure that your brain had switched off already, resting your cheek against the surface of the desk beneath you. If you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up drooling. It wouldn’t be the first time.
You didn’t even realise how much noise you were making, but your curses and pleas of "sir" and "Mr. Fickelgruber" were echoing throughout the large room. Fickelgruber loved it - the idea that he could turn such an intelligent and hard-working woman into an absolute mess who could think of nothing but him and what he was doing to you. He valued the power he had over you more than anything else, though he’d probably never admit such a thing out loud.
When he pulled out suddenly, you whined in annoyance, but Fickelgruber simply tutted before flipping you over so you were laying on your back. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything - if you were even capable at this point - he’d already grabbed onto your thighs and thrust himself deep inside you once again.
"You’re being so noisy, my dear," Fickelgruber said with a somewhat mocking tone, leaning down over you so that he could whisper in your ear as he sped up the pace of his hips. Then, he brought his mouth to your neck so that he could suck bruises into the sensitive skin, which you’d have a lot of fun trying to cover up so none of your coworkers saw it. Of course, this did nothing to keep you quiet, only making your moans louder, but that was exactly what he wanted. "If you’re not careful, someone might hear you, and come in here to check what’s going on. Is that what you want, hmm? For everyone to see what a little slut you are for me?"
Having locked the door yourself before you went down on him, you knew that there was no chance of someone walking in and seeing what was happening. But the thought of it alone, combined with the way Fickelgruber was whispering in your ear, made your pussy clench around his cock. He laughed, loving how easy it was to affect you, but it quickly turned into a moan.
"Oh, you like that idea, do you? I suppose you’re even more naughty than I thought." Fickelgruber’s words were scolding, but you knew very well how much he loved having you like this. "That’s what you want, is it? For people to see you getting fucked over my desk like a whore? Maybe next time I’ll take you up against the window, and let everyone on the street below see that you belong to me."
That was it. That was what pushed you over the edge. The combination of possessiveness and degradation that made your head spin. You let out a loud sob as your climax hit you, writhing helplessly beneath him as he continued fucking you through it. Fickelgruber shifted so that he could kiss your lips to quiet you down a little - you really were getting loud enough that it might draw attention now, and he liked keeping you as his little secret. For now at least.
Eventually, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer - not with how your warm, wet walls were squeezing him for dear life - and he came as well, buried as deep inside you as possible while his warmth flooded you. He moaned against your lips, and the way your name sounded when he uttered it in such ecstasy made you feel like you could finish again. But thankfully, you didn’t, which was probably a positive since you were already exhausted after one orgasm.
"Good girl," Fickelgruber mumbled breathlessly, pressing kisses against your neck and jawline as both of you slowly recovered from your highs, and there seemed to be a genuine softness in the way he spoke to you that hadn’t been present the first time you’d done this. Now that you thought about it, it almost seemed as if he’d become more and more fond of you each time you had sex, and he’d certainly become more possessive as of late. Almost as if he actually had feelings for you. Maybe. Your stomach fluttered at the possibility.
He gave you one last kiss on the lips as he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you, gazing approvingly at the sight of some of his cum leaking from your pussy. Fickelgruber quickly pulled your panties back up for you, keeping any more of it from dripping out. That was quite the contrast to your first tryst also - he’d been somewhat dismissive then, and this was the first time he’d ever helped you redress, even if it was just helping you put your underwear back on.
"I suppose we had better get back to work, hadn’t we, dear?" Fickelgruber told you with a smile as he fixed his trousers and rebuckled his belt, before sitting down in his chair once again. With shaking legs, you stood up from his desk, intending to walk back to your own workstation, but he grabbed you by the wrist to stop you before you could get too far. Then, he gave you another quick kiss before letting you go.
It’s safe to say that you found it difficult to concentrate on your work after that, but you powered through, as you always did. Fickelgruber was glad that he'd hired you, for oh so many reasons.
Summary: You and your toxic boyfriend break up, and your best friend Jamie is there to comfort you.
Tags/Warnings: Friends to Lovers, discussions of toxic relationships/cheating. Reader’s ex bf is named Owen because I legitimately looked up a random name generator and that’s what came up. Sexual references. Misogyny (from the awful boyfriend).
A/N: Based on an anonymous request that reads - "can i request jamie comforting reader after a breakup but he's like He didnt treat u right he wasnt exactly nice to you. and then he confesses he likes u and just some nice comfort plssss". So, I hope that the anon and everyone else who chooses to read this enjoys it very much!
Word Count: 2658
Jamie Tag List: @demontoucansam @the-fandomgremlin @clydethesnake @abloomingspaceship @butlersluvbot
~~~
Jamie had never liked your boyfriend. And it wasn’t because of the massive crush he had harboured for you since not long after the two of you became friends, no matter what Dave tried to say. Well, maybe it was a little bit about that, but Jamie also had plenty of valid reasons to hate the guy. For starters, he was a dick.
You had met Owen - the aforementioned dick of a boyfriend - at work about six months ago. Jamie had never been able to understand what you saw in him. Owen was rude, dismissive, and worst of all, utterly disrespectful of you. He mocked your interests, damaged your self-esteem with his 'opinions' on how you dressed and did your hair, and he especially didn’t approve of you having male friends - though thankfully, you were pretty adamant about keeping your friendships, but it did cause a lot of arguments that would often leave you crying on Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie always tried his best to be polite to Owen, even if deep down he hated the guy. He was sure he’d never disliked someone more in his entire life. You deserved to be treated like a princess, and Owen didn’t seem to appreciate how lucky he was to have been chosen by you. Dave often urged Jamie to make a move, but he didn’t want to be one of those weird guys who hit on their female friends. He worried that it would make you think that he’d only befriended you to try and get in your pants, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. When the two of you had met, Jamie was still mourning the disappearance of his wife, Layla, but his feelings of friendship for you slowly turned into romantic ones when he realised how sweet you were, and suddenly he realised you were the most beautiful woman in the world to him. He’d been sure he’d never move on from Layla, but you were the first person to make him want to try again.
But unfortunately, it was Owen that you liked, and not Jamie. All he could do was be a supportive friend and comfort you when you and Owen had yet another fight, but you’d always end up going back to him. It hurt Jamie to see you do that. Even if you didn’t come to the sudden realisation that you loved him, Jamie wanted to see you with someone who would make you happy, rather than someone who reduced you to tears every other week.
When he got your text saying that you and Owen had cheated on you and the two of you had broken up, Jamie couldn’t believe what he was reading. Cheating was a pretty evil thing to do in Jamie’s book as it was, but why the fuck would anyone ever cheat on you? You were smart, sweet, funny… as well as completely gorgeous - the whole package, really. Your only real flaw in Jamie’s eyes was that you didn’t see how wonderful you were (and that was probably part of the reason you ended up dating such a toxic nightmare). What he wouldn’t give to be able to tell you how amazing and beautiful he thought you were… but it would probably come off as weird, since you were just friends and you’d never expressed any romantic interest in him.
It was only about half an hour til the bank shut when Jamie got your text. You were probably the one of the only things in the world Jamie cared about more than his precious routine, so he asked someone else to close up for the night and left in a hurry. He made a quick trip to the shops to buy a tub of your favourite ice-cream - hoping to bring a smile to your face - and then headed straight to your house, knocking on your door and nervously fidgeting with his tie until you answered.
"Thought you might need this," Jamie said when you opened the door, your tear-stained cheeks making his heart ache. You were already wearing pyjamas despite the fact that it was only just after 6.30pm, so you were obviously going through a bit of a spiral. He couldn’t blame you for that after what had happened today.
"Thanks," you sniffled, taking the tub from Jamie’s hands and bringing him inside. You shut the door behind him, and went to place the ice cream on the table before moving back to give Jamie a hug. When you rested your head on his shoulder, he felt his heart melt. It took every ounce of his willpower to not press a gentle kiss to your forehead or run his fingers through your hair. He just wanted to hold you and make you smile again, but after a few moments you pulled away and he couldn’t help but mourn the loss of your body pressed against his. "I wasn’t expecting you to come over so quickly. You’re the best."
"It’s no problem." Jamie’s cheeks flushed a little when you called him 'the best', but he was happy that you didn’t seem to notice. He watched as you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a spoon so that you could start eating the ice cream he’d bought you straight from the tub. When you took your first mouthful of the ice cold dessert, your eyes did brighten ever so slightly. Mission accomplished, he thought to himself. "You’re going through something horrible, and it’s the least I can do as your friend."
"You remembered my favourite ice cream flavour," you mused, and Jamie followed you into the living room so you could sit side by side on the sofa. Then, you stabbed your spoon into the ice cream once again so you could scoop some more out.
"Of course I did." That was a pretty basic thing to remember about someone you’d been close friends with for years, Jamie thought.
"Owen never would have remembered something like that." You released a long, deep sigh of exasperation, looking like you were about to start ranting. Jamie didn’t mind. He knew that you would definitely need to vent after everything that had happened, and besides… he thought you were cute when you started rambling. Ugh, he was so sappy. "He never remembered anything about me. Honestly, I’m surprised he even remembered my name most days."
For the next few minutes, you spoke at length about all of Owen’s flaws. Honestly, it was refreshing to see you speaking your mind about him like this. In the midst of all of you and Owen’s fights while you were still dating, you would blame yourself for all of your relationship issues, no matter how many times Jamie tried to convince you that it wasn’t your fault. So Jamie didn’t interrupt - except to quietly agree with your assessment of the situation - and allowed you all the time you needed to get things off your chest.
"And this is a bit of a TMI, but he was really selfish in bed. Like he did not care whether I enjoyed myself or not. So good luck to that girl I caught him with. Hope she’s good at faking orgasms." You laughed dismissively, and then ate another spoonful of ice cream.
Jamie’s face flushed slightly, partially because of your use of the word orgasm, but mostly because he was trying not to think about the fact that if he had a chance with you, he’d do everything he could to make sure you were satisfied, and— yeah, he needed to not think about that, otherwise he’d have an embarrassing problem on his hands, and he didn’t want to humiliate himself in front of you. Then, what you’d actually said - apart from the bit about sex - sunk in. You’d actually caught Owen with another woman? "Do you, uh… do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked, both because he wanted you to talk about what happened for your own good, but also because it would distract him from thinking about… well, satisfying you. "Only if you feel comfortable."
You sighed again, but this time you sounded tired, defeated. "There’s not much to tell, I suppose…" You dropped your spoon into the tub of ice cream. It seemed like you were all out. Jamie internally scolded himself for not getting you a bigger tub. "I went over to his flat because we’d had lunch plans earlier, and he’d stood me up. Turns out he’d forgotten about me because he was too busy shagging some other woman. I walked in on them in bed together."
Jamie noticed your eyes starting to well with tears as you recalled the story, so he put his arm around you. You seemed to be comforted by the gesture and rested your head on his shoulder again, melting Jamie’s heart once more. God, you were so precious, but he couldn’t think about that right now. You needed a supportive friend, not an idiot fawning over you.
"When they saw I’d walked in, the woman quickly got dressed and left. Once she was gone, Owen and I ended up having another fight." Your voice had begun to get a bit shaky, another sign that you might start crying. Jamie wanted to nip that in the bud - seeing you cry was honestly a heart-shattering sight - but it was what you said next that truly confused him. "When I asked him why he’d cheated, he said that he had every right because I’d cheated first."
"What?" Jamie asked, utterly baffled. That did not sound like you at all, and even if you had cheated, Jamie probably would have known about it already since he was your closest friend and you told him pretty much everything.
"That’s what I said! Then he was like 'Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about', and when I asked him to explain he said 'Don’t pretend that there’s not anything going on between you and that Jamie guy'…" You’d cleaned up what Owen had actually said, since he hadn’t used such kind words to refer to Jamie and you didn’t want him hearing such horrid things being said about him.
Oh Jesus Christ… Jamie thought to himself, his heart pounding fast inside of his ribcage. Owen had actually thought that you and him had some kind of secret affair going on? He couldn’t help but feel like everything you’d gone through today was his fault, since Owen had believed he was justified in cheating because you apparently had already cheated… with him! That was when Jamie realised that you were still talking, and that he should probably get back to listening.
"He said 'Obviously you’re shagging him, because why else would he be hanging around you? It’s not like you’ve got anything else to offer,' and that’s when I told him it was over and I left. Then I came back home and texted you." You took a deep breath, having got to the end of your story. Well, there was something else that you’d wanted to say, but you weren’t sure whether now was the right time.
That certainly had been a lot. Jamie hardly knew what to say. "He’s a dick," was what he settled on saying, and he heard you let out a little riffle that made his heart flutter.
"Yeah, he is," you agreed, and Jamie could tell from your voice that you were smiling.
There was a long silence after that, with you still resting your head on Jamie’s shoulder. It felt so right sitting there with you like that, so close with his arm around your shoulder. It was like this was how things were meant to be. That was probably what possessed Jamie to say what he said next. "You know, I never thought Owen was good enough for you," he said softly, tilting his own head to the side and resting it on top of yours. You didn’t make any attempt to move away, so he assumed you were fine with it.
"I always thought that he was a dick, and he never treated you properly. You deserve someone who remembers your lunch plans and cares about whether you get off or not." He usually wouldn’t just come out and say something like that so plainly, but he was just speaking his mind now and wasn’t thinking too much about how he actually said things. "And you definitely deserve someone who doesn’t go around shagging other women just because he got jealous over something that wasn’t true—"
"It… wasn’t entirely untrue…" you replied, and Jamie sat up straight so that he could look at you.
"What… what do you mean?" Jamie’s heart began to race. Surely you didn’t mean what it sounded like you meant, right? He took a breath to try and keep himself calm, and it annoyed him how shaky it was.
"I mean, I… I have always had a bit of a crush on you…" You admitted, and Jamie was sure that he was dreaming or he was in a coma or something. There was absolutely no way that this was real. He felt you take your head off his shoulder and he looked at your face to try and determine whether you were joking or not.
You were blushing. Did that mean...? "A crush... a crush on me...?" Jamie asked softly, like the idea of anyone - let alone you, the most wonderful person in the world - having a crush on him was absolutely unthinkable.
"Yes, Jamie. I have a crush on you. A big one." You couldn't help but smile. You'd been unsure for a while whether Jamie felt anything beyond friendship for you, but his frankly adorable reaction to you telling him how you feel seemed to confirm that he did. "I have for years."
Jamie's face went completely red, and he was beginning to worry that he was going to faint. "You... you never said anything," he managed after a few moments of stammering uselessly, his cheeks feeling like they were on fire.
Of course you hadn't said anything! You'd been under the impression that the man was pining for his missing wife since the two of you had met. "I guess... I thought I wasn't good enough for you," you said with a shrug, not wanting to bring up the whole Layla situation if you didn't have to. Before you even had the chance to open your mouth to continue speaking, Jamie was talking again.
"You're not good enough for me?" Jamie shook his head, in complete disbelief. "Love, you're so far out of my league I feel ridiculous even fantasising about you.."
You couldn't help but giggle softly - both at Jamie calling you 'love', and him admitting that he'd fantasised about you. "You fantasise about me a lot, then?" It was hard to resist teasing him, especially when his cheeks flushed like that.
"I... uh..." Jamie rubbed the back of his neck nervously, unable to believe he'd just come out and said something like that to you, especially when you'd only just admitted you liked him. God, he was such an idiot sometimes. He knew that he should say something, do something, anything other than just sit there frozen, but he was at a complete loss.
Luckily, you seemed to know exactly what needed to be done.
The sound that escaped Jamie when he finally felt your lips against his was one of both contentment and relief. It just felt so... right. Like all of those years thinking that he wasn't good enough for you just melted away in an instant. Jamie brought his hands up to cradle your face as you kissed, stroking his thumbs against your cheekbones.
Eventually, the two of you had to pull away from each other, and Jamie could swear that the way you were looking at him right now was almost as good as the kiss. It was like you couldn't think of anywhere in the world you'd rather be than right here, with him - the exact same way he felt about you.
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