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royalarchivist · 9 months ago

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Phil briefly talks about QSMP, the admin situation, Quackity, the new team, and the harassment both Quackity and the admins have been receiving.

Please listen to the clip and read the transcript in its entirety. Keep in mind that things can easily be taken out of context (even this clip, though I did try to include everything he said).

If you'd like to see the full unedited conversation, Phil started talking about last week's interactions with YD and Bad ~1h 57m into today's VOD, which led into this conversation about QSMP.

[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]

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Phil: Yeah, she's great. Another- another reason why QSMP is just like... fuckin' incredible. That was like, not even ever going to happen without QSMP. Like, obviously it's had its problems, it's go– it's had its problems. Those problems are being rectified. All the people that were wrong'uns have been fired [Laughs] And Quackity's put a new team together. So like, I'm so happy that I'm like– that Q is doing everything he can right now to make it like, right.

But I am still just sad that Chayanne and Tallulah are just asleep, that is just making me real sad. So I've been like, logging on whenever I can to just like, hang out and stuff and just, you know, be around. But I am- I am just sad boy now. [Laughs] I've like– throwing all those penguins into the- the Spawn area was like, my limit. And the like, laughing with YD and Bad kind of cheered me up a bit.

But yeah, I'm sure most of you can agree. It's like, once- once you've been making content on a server a certain way, it's- it's been like, 6 - 8 months of like, the same like type of content I've been making on that server. It's been very lore-heavy, it's been very Egg hanging out with the Eggs and just chilling. Like, not even like doing anything crazy. We would just hang out. But yeah, I'm sure everyone's in the same boat. Like, we all just like, miss that, you know?

So... just gotta wait around. Just gotta wait. Wait for things to get better. Trust in Big Q.

But yeah, moments- moments like the other day, Chat, where me, Bad, and YD were just hanging out just like kind of... you know, it just kind of like... What's the word I'm looking for? Like, drills home how important the QSMP is and can be for connecting people. Not just now, but in the future. And like, that- I feel like that is something that's definitely worth protecting, or something that's worth like, seeing happen in the future with other people. Not even thinking about like, if I'm gonna be interacting with anyone like, thinking about like other people interacting with other people in the future. It's fucking- It's so cool.

Like, imagine seeing like, brand new streamers that you might've not have heard of interacting with people that you know right now. Not necessarily me or people that I know, but like– like, the connections that we've all made.

Dude, Me and Kristin went to fuckin' Switzer-France to hang out with these people! [Laughs] Cellbit and Lore traveled from fucking Brazil to Switzer-France to hang out! The- these connections are like, mental. Just never would have happened without the server, and that's definitely something worth protecting. And like, ensuring it is done the correct way in the future.

That means a lot to us Chat, it does– [Briefly responds to Chat] It means a lot to us and like, obviously the admins being well-taken care of is like, at the fore-front.

And Quackity speaks very highly of this new team. He's like- he's chatted to us like, in calls and stuff. He's been keeping us up to date on everything that's been going on behind the scenes, everything that he can tell us anyways. And like, he is very happy with this new team. He pretty much said that they are like, very passionate about the project, and we can like, trust that he trusts them to do a very good job. So...

Yeah, I'm excited but like, we just have to kind of like, wait. Like, there's a lot being changed around, there's a lot of plans. But the good thing to know is that the people that caused harm have been removed. And now the people that are like, in charge are like, very passionate about the project and just want to see everyone happy and succeed and be taken care of. But these things take time. So we just have to hang about, we have to wait.

[Responding to someone asking about what happened with QSMP and the Admin situation] I'm not going to go into too much detail, you can find out exactly what has gone on, and it's not as simple as black and white. It's- there's a lot of gray areas in there, and it's like very complicated, so you can go look it up yourself, but ultimately, all you need to know is that the initial admin team, the like, head people at the top that Quackity put in charge like ages ago when the server first started were making decisions that were like, not good for the health and also the well-being of the actors, and like, admins and like, the staff. So like, some staff were fine, other staff had a shit fucking time, and it was unfair and terrible and went unnoticed for a while, and then it all came out and Quackity's been like, fixing it since.

Most recently, he stepped down from the team because of like, how serious shit was getting. Like, people online have been fucking awful. And it's very dangerous at the minute for like the ex- like, members of the team, and also him. It's like- it's terrible.

So it's very heated, very– it's– again— and it's not as simple as just like "This- this is– this is right, this is wrong." It's like- it's very- there's a lot of muddled areas, and it's not as easy as just saying "This is exactly what happened." I'm summarizing. I'm literally just summarizing. But all you need to know right now, the latest update is that the team that are in charge are very passionate about the projects and are like, much, much better and will take care of the new people and the admins and all the actors and stuff a lot better than the last fucking team because the initial problem was that Quackity kind of like, took a bit more of a step back and he wasn't like, overseeing every single thing that was going on behind the scenes, but now he's had to- he's had to take a step back, he's been forced to take a step back, but he's left it in the hands of a team that he truly trusts this time. Like, he's actually fully-vetted.

So HOPEFULLY– again: there's more things that need to be done behind the scenes, and I'm not an official spokesperson, I'm just a person playing on the fucking server that my friend has made, and I'm very happy to support him, and I trust that he will do and continue to do the right thing.

But yeah. Not as simple as just [Snaps fingers] "This is this." It's like– there's so much fucking like, middle ground and shit that's gone on. And that's all I'm gonna say on it! 'Cuz otherwise it's just gonna go on and on and on, and people are gonna be like, "What do you know?" and be like "I don't know shit!" And the stuff that I do know, I probably can't talk about right now. There's like, certain things that like, can't be said, for legal reasons and stuff.

#Philza #QSMP #Quackity #QSMP Admins #April 15 2024 #Transcribed #Edited #This isn't the cleanest edit but I was trying to get this out fast

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 21 days ago

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A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day.

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar.

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course”

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this.

The idea of being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities.

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind.

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?”

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice.

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second.

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time."

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body.

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.”

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?”

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.”

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.”

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth.

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late”

“I really...” you try to say.

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face.

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you.

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat.

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble.

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here.

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side.

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio.

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera.

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot.

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university.

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you.

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around.

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today.

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.”

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead.

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress"

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins

“No, you don’t” you retort.

Fucking bastard.

“Strip” he repeats firmly.

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here”

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable.

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form.

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you.

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F.

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.”

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra.

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too."

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor.

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate."

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.”

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl.

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last.

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding.

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point.

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly."

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them.

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold.

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented.

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling”

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse.

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on”

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs.

No, you can't.

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses.

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag.

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy.

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is.

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve.

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you.

God, you want him so bad right now.

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him.

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties.

"Can I?" he grunts.

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care.

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins.

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine.

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?”

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched.

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again.

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan.

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge.

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time.

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet.

“So fucking perfect”

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you.

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers.

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them.

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please."

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin.

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher.

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in.

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come”

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh.

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you ��you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine.

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to your intrusion.

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea.

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice.

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair.

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me”

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes.

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.”

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum.

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles.

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today”

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you.

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says.

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit.

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is.

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel the last of us #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #perv!joel miller

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eroscomet · 1 month ago

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Young and Dumb?

OneShot

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Paring: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader (leans a bit into mass not too much)

Context: Two strangers meet by chance in a small bookstore and quickly hit it off. What starts as some witty banter about books turns into a deeper connection. Before they know it, they’re caught up in a whirlwind of emotions and make a few bold, spur-of-the-moment choices. It’s a story about love, fate, and taking risks when nothing makes sense, but everything feels right.

Warnings: Honestly, none that are concerning. This is mostly fluff.

Word count: 3.7k

Song inspiration: Marry You by Bruno Mars

A/N: Helloooo lovelies! A little bit of a late update from me but I decided to actually write something. Not even going to lie, I continuously had to take breaks inbetween writing but I was determined to get it done today. I wanted to give you guys a little something extra for all the support that I've been recieving. Thank you all so much for reading! This was meant to be a drabble but turned into a oneshot. Hope you guys enjoy!

Not proof read

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Time, you've always felt like it went by extremely fast. Spending your evenings after work at a bookstore helping customers as if you work there. The manager had even offered evening shifts but you had politely declined at the time but still, he'd insisted that the offer stood. Oftentimes, the bookstore was empty anyway, leaving you alone to browse and read different bits of books if not the whole thing. You had a knack for reading some heavier topics if not philosophical or psychological ones.

This day had been no different than the others. Like clockwork, you left your job and headed for the bookstore near your home. You weren't the richest but you certainly weren't the poorest, being able to accomodate yourself to a middle-class life. Enough money to have a fairly sized home and have a couple of nice things outside of necessities.You walk into the store, greeting the workers, who over time became your friends, with a smile before heading to a section that you haven't yet looked over.

Your eyes scanned the various books, enjoying the silence of the library along with the vague sound of classical music playing. Your hand brushed over the different spines of the books, reading the titles. You weren't looking for anything specific, just something that would catch your attention. When reaching for a book on one of the upper shelves, the book had pushed the book on the other side of the bookshelf, off the shelf. That's when you hear a small noise, andsuddenly become alert to the fact that you might've hurt someone you hadn't known as there.

"Ouch!" Was the small heard you heard before carefully holding the book in your hand and heading to the other aisle quickly.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was here. Are you alright?" You asked as you approached the girl, leaning down and grabbing the book that had fallen off of the floor with the same hand that held the book you had earlier been interested in.

"Yeah, I'm fine... It just hurts a bit." The girl replied sheepishly as rubbed the top of her head with her palm, careful not to mess up her hair. "Thank you. And you, you work here?"

"Me? No, no. However, I can tell you about practically everything here. I spend a lot of time in here, I know the sections if you need help." You replied, returning her a bashful smile as you looked at the shorter girl.

The black-haired girl had scanned your face for a moment, taking note of the bit of shyness and embarrassment your smile held. She couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on her lips as well.

"Is that so? I could use some recommendations, I'm looking for something to get me out of a reading slump. Anything that's not romance."

"Hm.. Try, The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus." You replied as you raised the book that you had grabbed earlier in your hand. "Now that is my kind of book."

Your eyes took note of her expression changing from a small smile to not a slight frown after hearing your recommendation.

"Philosophy, really?" She had asked, a bit skeptical at the recommendation. It wasn't something she would've expected of the girl in front of her.

"What is the matter with Philosophy?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow at the shorter girl. "Alright, how about...The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky?"

"Dostoevsky, Oh my, It's getting heavier and heavier. Don't you have a lighter recommendation?"

"Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind."

Her expression once changed to a now more slightly amused one. She was a bit surprised at the recommendation as now the suggestions had fallen into the horror genre.

"And what's that? A psycho love story or a slasher?"

"Both? It falls more into the theme of obsession."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or scared of your taste in books now." She replied with a small laugh.

"I read just about anything and everything." You stated with a hum and a small smile at the girl's laughter.

"Everything?" She asked in a curious tone, tilting her head to the side. She couldn't imagine someone reading every genre there was. "I'm sure that's not possible, there's so many genres. I mean, I doubt you ever read romance."

"So, you've caught me," You said as you put your hands up for a moment, pretending to be in surrender. "I try but I can't get myself to do it. What's the point of reading a story about a perfectly happy couple and how they met? It's boring to me, add a slasher or some kind of deep-rooted hurting between the two and I'll think about it."

"You prefer a little bit of drama in your love stories, huh?"

"I suppose some."

She eyed you for a moment before speaking again, "You seem to like a bit of everything in your reading preferences. What about movies? Are you into horror in the movie world too?"

"And if I were to say that I don't keep up with movies? That I'd rather read the books that the movies are based on? Everyone knows the book is better than the movie."

"A woman of culture, I see. And I agree with you that most of the time the book is better. But I find it hard to believe that you don't watch any movies at all."

"Some here and there." You replied with a hum and a shrug. "Why? Are you cultured in movies, then?"

"Me? Of course, I am. Movies, old and new, I watch them all. So tell me, what's the last movie you watched recently?"

You took a pause for a moment, thinking back to the last movie you watched, "Black Swan."

"Black Swan, I remember that one. Disturbing, but excellent. Did you know that it is based on Swan Lake, the ballet?"

"I knew of the ballet far before I knew of the movie."

"Oh, of course, that makes sense. You're passionate about classic literature; naturally, you would know about Swan Lake as a ballet." She paused for a moment before speaking again, "Are you a ballet aficionado or just a fan of Black Swan?"

"I'm just aware of the theatre arts rather than film arts.

"So, you prefer the theatre, hm? It's no wonder you'd like Black Swan, then. But what about Literature? You know something besides Fydor Dostoevsky and Albert Camus?"

"Immanuel Kant?" You replied, a bit of uncertainty in your voice while awaiting her reaction.

"Ah, Immanuel Kant, a lover of ethics. I can definitely place you in the philosophy section now. So you like Kant? That explains why you recommended Albert Camus' work as if it were a lighthearted romance. You've got very specifictastes."

"I like to contemplate life, existential crisis' are my favorite. What better way to feel real than to feel fake?" You joked with a small laugh.

"I was expecting something else when you started talking about that kind of crisis, especially coming from a girl like you." She tilted her head, her brown eyes fixed on you, "But I have to admit, you've piqued my interest even more. You're not just a pretty face, you've got substance."

"So you think I have a pretty face." You replied with a smile as you tilted your head to the side, "Good to know, stranger girl."

"Stranger girl, huh? What if I said I wanted to change that? I want to know more about the mysterious girl with great taste in art but weird taste in romance."

"Now, would that really be a good idea? I'm a new face, I could take after the books I read, you know? You give up too easy." After a beat, you spoke again. "I could be your come-to-life Joe Goldberg and you wouldn't know a thing. Was he not book smart as well?"

"You bring up Joe Goldberg when I've just called you mysterious, huh? That's quite a way to flirt. Don't tell me you think I'm as easy as Beck."

"Then, what? You're....my Love Quinn?" You ask with a smile.

"Love Quinn? You wish." She paused for a moment, obviously in thought, "More like...Marianne. Don't you think?"

"Marine, the one that got away? I'd hope not."

"Oh, please. I'm not saying for you to be like Joe Goldberg. I was just comparing myself to Marianne. But if you want to be my book girlfriend, be a bit more... Joe-like. Think you can do that, mystery girl?"

"Who's to say that I haven't been this entire time? A naive girl at a bookstore, a book falls onto her head, catching the attention of me and what do you know, she's pretty too. Begin engaging in talks about books, seeming more and more interested in me the more that I talk. You like that I read. You like that I can keep up. You like the understanding." You said trying to mimic your best Joe Goldberg inner monologue impression. "Is that Joe enough for you?"

"Now we're getting somewhere." The shorter girl replied as she leaned against the bookshelf next to her. "Say, you look tall enough to reach that book without a stool."

Your eyes darted over to the book she pointed at where a copy of Crime and Punishment resided.

"Dostoevsky." You said with a smile, putting the book that was in your hand that had fallen onto the shorter girl's head,back onto the bookshelf. Then, you grabbed Crime and Punishment handing it to her, their hands brushing for a moment, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the girl.

"Impressive. And very "Joe-esque" of you."

"Hello, you." You said, mocking the line in the show, earning a laugh from the shorter girl.

"Now you're just mocking me." She said while tilted her head to the side. "You really do like to mess up the cliché romance scenarios, don't you?"

"Maybe then I wouldn't have to lock you in my basement."

The shorter girl almost laughed aloud at your statement, her smile widening. She found herself really enjoying the banter and the back and forth with you, it had been a while since she'd had such an intriguing conversation with anyone.

"I was wondering when you would bring up the basement. But I must say, I'm quite pleased. You're not disappointing me so far, mystery girl."

"I don't disappoint. How would you be my Love, tell me?" You asked before speaking after a beat, "Would you be like Love in season three?"

"Now, Love's a character that's a bit complicated..." She said with a smile before pausing, "But if you're asking if I would be obsessed with you...maybe a little bit more than Love was."

"Sign me up. I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N." You said returning the smile as you offered her your hand to shake.

"Jenna. Jenna Ortega." Jenna replied as she held onto your hand after shaking it, "So, Angel, what's your next move? Are you gonna charm me with your witty banter or are you going to ask for my number already?

"We can skip bot and put you in my basement already." You joked with a small laugh.

"Oh really? Just gonna skip right to locking me up in your basement. How romantic of you."

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Before they knew it, the two of you were back at your house. Not being able to make it through the front door without already throwing themselves onto each other. Jenna's hands roamed all over your body, exploring every inch of skin that she could reach. It was a heated and passionate moment that took over Jenna completely, leaving no room for rational thoughts or hesitations. She was lost in the moment, only aware of the feel of your hands on her, the taste of her lips, the sound of their heavy breaths.

You pulled away from the kiss with a smile as you shut the door behind the two of you. Your back leaning against the front door.

"God, you're a good kisser." Jenna let out a breathless laugh.

"Yeah?" You murmured breathlessly with a hum as she leaned into Jenna's touch. "Now, like Joe Goldberg, I don't want you just to get laid or any of that. Not after just meeting you. So, coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please. And don't worry, I'm not the type to just.... get laid and forget about it either." Her hand cupped your cheek and gently caressed it.

"I like the whole domestic feel, sometimes. You can't have that with a one-night-stand."

"You're not wrong about that." Her thumb not tracing your jawline gently. You hummed softly in reply as you pressed a peck to Jenna's lips.

"You're so sweet." She murmured against your lips. Not pulling too far away, just enough to press your forehead against Jenna's.

"Gosh, you're really good at this..." Her hand moves to cup the back of your neck.

"At what?"

"This..." She mumbled softly, "You just...make me feel so... I don't really know how to explain it."

"I could marry you off this very feeling."

"You'd marry me just like this?"

"Just like this."

"And what if I say...yes?"

"We...elope?"

"Now that would be a sight." Her fingers caressed the back of Angel's neck. The idea was insane, it sounded like a plot from cheesy rom-coms that she loved so much, "Where would we go? Do you think you could convince me to run off to Vegas?"

"Is it bad that I was also thinking Vegas?"

"Oh my gosh. We're both crazy." She replied with a smile on her lips only widened as she looked at you. The idea of eloping to Vegas was growing more and more appealing by the second to her. Just the two of them, no fuss or big wedding, just them, in Vegas, making a spontaneous decision that was probably completely reckless and irresponsible, "Do you think we should do it? Just...jump into it?"

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"What are we doing? I mean, seriously!" Jenna said, in the passenger seat of your car, trying to speak over the blaring music and the wind entering the car from the windows down.

"Making you my wife." You replied back enthusiastically with a smile as you glanced over at Jenna in the passenger seat before returning your gaze to the road, "I don't know, I like it! Wife. My wife!"

"Your wife." She repeated with a smile as she shook her head.

"My wife, my wife, my wife. Me and my wife." You said as if tasting the sound of the words off of your tongue and liking it.

"My wife, my wife." She repeated after you, basking in the new words as well.

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What better way to have your wedding than to have an Elvis impersonator officiate it in a small chapel in the middle of the night?

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the matrimony of Y/N and Jenna, alright now." The Elvis impersonator began which began to feel like a blur to you and before you knew it...

"I, Jenna, take you, Y/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, cherish, and respect you, in sickness and in health, in good moments and in bad, till death do us part."

The words hung in the air, the promise of forever in their commitment.

"I, Y/N, take you, Jenna, to be lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, cherish, and support you, in health and sickness, in joy and in hardship, till death do us part.

The words from both of them were met with a moment of silence. The vows felt as if they echoed through the small chapel, filling the air with a mix of anticipation and gravity. The Elvis impersonator smiled and said a couple of more things before allowing you to slip the ring onto Jenna's finger. Your touch was firm and gentle, each movement a silent declaration of commitment. Then Jenna slipped a ring onto your finger, the cool metal felt heavy on your finger, a tangible symbol of the promises they had just made.

"By the power not invested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss."

The words hung in the air, each syllable seeming to carry a profound weight, and then...you closed the distance between the two of you, your arms wrapping around Jenna's waist, pulling her closer. And then, your lips met in a kiss, soft and gentle, yet filled with a promise of forever.

The kiss was simple yet profound, a gentle press of lips that sealed the promises they had just made. The chapel's silence was filled with the echo of their commitment... with the knowledge that they were now truly bound together, for better or for worse, for as long as they both lived.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the soft sound of their breaths mixing together. The kiss was slow and tender, a silent confirmation of the promises they had just spoken, a wordless promise of love and devotion. As their lips parted, Jenna opened her eyes, meeting your gaze, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

They were, in fact, married. Married on a spontaneous, impulsive, and wonderfully crazy night in Vegas.

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For the rest of the night until early in the morning, the two practically ran around Vegas together happily. After getting a hotel room, the two simply found themselves jumping on the freshly made hotel bed.

Jenna squealed as she landed on the bed, the soft mattress bouncing beneath her. She couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from her chest, the sound tinged with both amusement and disbelief at the absurdity of the whole situation.

"We just got married, in Vegas, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, and we're celebrating by jumping on the bed like teenage kids?" She let out another laugh, shaking her head as she jumped, her hair messily tousled from the jumping.

"Live a little! We're all kids at heart!" You replied with a laugh as well, jumping on the bed next to Jenna.

"True, true!" Jenna replied, a grin spreading across her face. The feeling of you jumping alongside her on the bed, laughter mixing in the air, was liberating.

They were adults, newlyweds even, and yet, in that moment, they were carefree and childish. The bed continued to bounce with their movements, Jenna's giggles growing louder as she playfully flopped back on the mattress. You flopped down next to Jenna, pulling off your tie.

"You look good in a suit, wife," Jenna said as she watched you remove your tie, her eyes drawn to the movement of the thin fabric as it unraveled. The image of her new wife, still in her suit, lying beside her on the bed was oddly appealing. She hadn't taken the moment to realize how good you had looked.

The word 'wife' had an unfamiliar ring to it, but Jenna found she liked the way it rolled off her tongue. She shifted a little closer to you.

"I'm sure you look in everything," You replied with a soft smile, tucking back Jenna's hair behind her ear gently, "And tonight, you look perfect, my wife."

"What a cheesy line, wife." She teased affectionately.

"You must be my weakness, then. Making me say cheesy things to get you to smile. I must be doing something right if you married me."

Jenna pretended to pout at your words, her eyes narrowing as though she was annoyed by the comment, but there was a hint of a grin on her lips, a tell-tale sign that she found your cheesy words endearing, if not endearing, very adorable. She moved a little closer until they were lying side by side on the bed, their bodies snuggled together.

"I must be weak then. I just married some charming idiot, just because she made me laugh a few times." Her words were playful, her words a soft tease. She reached for your hand, interlocking their fingers and bringing it up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles. The simple gesture was both endearing and affectionate, a subtle reminder that despite the impulsiveness of their marriage, there was a layer of genuine connection between the two of you.

"Well... I'll take care of you. Treat you good. Right, even. Better than. I promise." You replied in a soft and genuine tone, earning a soft laugh from Jenna. The idea that she needed to be 'taken care of' seemed laughable—she was a strong, independent woman, But the way you said it, with such sincerity and devotion, touched her. She returned the gaze, her eyes softening as she looked into your eyes. The intimacy between them was almost palpable, the air thick with a mix of adoration and vulnerability.

"I promise that I'll always be gentle, never harsh. Never put a hand in a fight. We will have disagreements, not fights. I'll always listen and understand your side before I ever counter against it. I know that I don't know you well enough to know if you like being taken care of but I don't mean it in the way you think. I mean it in the way where your soul and heart have needs that I want to provide, that I will provide." Your hand gently caresses Jenna's as well.

"You're too good to be real, you know that?" She mumbled softly as she thought out your words.

"I promise to keep you safe and make you always feel safe around me. I promise to hold and comfort you whenever you need it. AS well as reassure you about anything or anyone that you are beginning to feel insecure about." Your forehead pressed against her as you spoke in a soft and genuine tone.

The reassurances, the care, and the concern...it was all so new, so strange, yet it felt right. It felt safe, like something she wanted to hold onto.

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A/N: Hey lovelies! Thank you so much for reading! If you're new, feel free to look at my other works. I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if I should add any warnings to this. Love you all, bye!

#jenna ortega #eroscomet #jenna ortega x fem #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna marie ortega #astrid deetz x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #astrid deetz #scream #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #gxg #gxg fluff #wlw fanfic #wlw content

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fireinmoonshot · 4 months ago

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safety first | boone x fem!reader

Pairing: Boone x Fem!Reader Summary: After a close call during a chase, you have a panic attack and Boone helps you through it and keeps you company afterwards. Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, slight PTSD/trauma references Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I've been wanting to write for Boone forever and finally I am here posting something for him. I love his character so much and this was fun to write. I'm definitely gonna be writing more for him in the future so please send in any requests for him (as well as other Twisters characters, of course)! I should be asleep right now cause I have work early in the morning but here I am, yet again being head over heels for the Twisters characters... anyway, enjoy! 💗

Six months ago, you had walked up to Boone and Tyler, standing around the truck waiting to head out on a chase, and told them that you were riding with them today.

Unsurprisingly, that hadn’t gone very well.

Ever since you’d joined the Wranglers, your job had been simple – stay with Dexter and Dani at a safe distance away from the tornadoes and edit the videos for YouTube. But you always felt like something was missing. That you couldn’t properly edit the videos to capture the true chaos of storm chasing if you weren’t experiencing it too.

Boone and Tyler had been incredibly against the idea, trying to convince you to stay with Dexter and Dani or even just ride with Lily if you wanted more of a thrill, but you hadn’t budged and eventually, they’d come around.

They had only one condition: whenever you rode with them, there would be absolutely no driving into tornadoes. They’d get closer than Dexter and Dani, but not close enough that you could be seriously injured if something went wrong.

Technically it had been a condition of Boone’s but Tyler had agreed with it and you had too, realising that accepting it was your only chance at getting closer to the storms.

Today, however, things had gotten a little too close for comfort. Everything had been going to plan at first. The storm was a good one and when the tornado touched down, you were close enough to get a great view of it without being in the path.

But then the conditions changed and with them, the direction of the tornado changed as well.

You tried your best not to think about it as you washed your hair in the motel, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on your aching body. It had shaken you up enough when it had happened, you didn’t need to dwell on it any longer.

Just as you turn the taps off you hear a knock on the bathroom door.

“No rush, but you nearly done in there?”

Boone’s voice. The two of you were sharing a room at the motel. Everyone had paired off when you’d arrived and since you’d been the last one to grab your stuff, you also got the last room, which ended up being with Boone.

Not that you minded. Boone was a good roommate.

“Just about!” You call back, hurrying to dry off and get dressed so you can get out of the bathroom and let Boone have it.

When you come out of the bathroom, towel drying your hair, Boone is sat on one of the two beds, feet kicked up comfortably. Your laptop is on his lap and by the sounds coming from it, he’s going over footage.

“You stealin’ my job, Boone?”

He flashes you a grin. “Oh, I’d never. Gotta keep my girl around.”

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach and cross the room towards him, perching on the bed beside him and taking a glance at the screen. He hands you the laptop as he pushes himself up and off the bed.

“Thought we could go over it together since we’re roomies for tonight,” Boone suggests. “I’ll shower and then we can try and get a start on the edit if ya don’t fall asleep on me first.”

You nod, happy about the idea of having someone else there to go over the footage with because of the stress of the day, and try your best to get comfy on the bed while he heads into the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for curiosity to get the better of you, though, and you tap the space bar, making the video continue playing where Boone had stopped it.

It’s honestly a little strange, watching the footage from a different angle of what you’d experienced from the back seat. It’s easy to admit that the chase today was the first time you were actually, genuinely afraid while chasing.

You watch the way the windscreen wipers catch on the windscreen, the debris and branches hitting it as Tyler tries to get you out of the path as quickly as possible. You can hear the sound of the wind rushing against the truck in the video, the rain pelting against the side of it and the feeling of the truck moving with the wind while Tyler desperately tries to keep control of it.

It’s not until your breathe catches in your throat that you realise your heart is beating way too fast and your breaths are coming too quickly, too heavily. All of a sudden it feels like you can’t breathe anymore. Like there’s no more air to breathe at all.

You have no idea how long you’re sitting there, struggling to breathe, until you feel the bed dipping underneath you with the weight of someone sitting on it – Boone.

“Hey, baby you gotta breathe, c’mon,” Boone gently rests a hand on one of your knees in an attempt to help ground you again, thumb stroking it softly. “Can you look at me, baby?”

It takes all your strength to move your eyes from the now paused video on the laptop screen and up to Boone’s eyes. You have no memory of pausing it and realise that it must’ve been Boone who did it for you.

Boone looks relieved when you meet his eyes.

“That’s it,” he nods. “Can you breathe with me? In and out, slowly. I’ll count with you, okay? One, two, three…” He breathes with you, taking long, deep breaths until you start to follow him.

You finally start to feel your heat beat start to steady and your breathing slowing down. But with it, you feel a little light-headed thanks to the hyperventilation.

Boone continues counting with you until your breathing is back to normal. You squeeze your eyes shut and take another long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your voice sounds weak, even to your own ears, so you can’t imagine how it sounds to him – or how your lie sounds. You know exactly what happened and you know Boone does too.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologise, ‘kay? You’re all right, you’re safe. Nothin’s gonna happen to you, I promise.”

You’re a little afraid to open your eyes again, not wanting to see the image still paused on the screen of the laptop, worried that it might bring back the panic you’d just fought so hard to get rid of, but it’s almost like Boone can read your mind.

“I closed the laptop, baby. You can open your eyes.”

Carefully, you blink them open and see the closed laptop sitting on the bed beside you. “Thank you,” you mutter. “But… wait, no, Boone, I need to start editing.”

Boone strokes a thumb over your knee. “Dex and Dani can do it. You’re not doin’ this one, ‘kay?” He pauses. “You wanna talk about it?”

You look at him for a moment before shaking your head. If you even try to talk about it, you’re not sure that you’ll be able to keep calm and the last thing you want is to have another panic attack in front of Boone, even though you know he wouldn’t judge you for it.

“It’s all right,” he assures you. “Honestly, kinda scared the shit outta me today too but probably for a different reason than yours.” He laughs a little, more at himself than at anything else.

“You don’t get scared by tornadoes,” you say.

Boone flashes you a smile. “No, but I do get worried about you, baby.”

Your eyebrows knit together and you’re just about to ask Boone to elaborate on why he gets so worried about you when he cuts you off, once again almost like he’s reading your mind.

“Not today,” he says. “Some other time when you’re not shakin’ like a leaf.” Boone shuffles to sit up beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his side. He kicks the laptop out of the way towards the end of the bed. “C’mon, try and get some rest.”

“I’m not going to sleep on you,” you shake your head. “This bed is tiny.”

“Don’t care,” Boone says, resting his head against the back of the headboard. “I’m not movin’ till you’re fast asleep and gettin’ some well needed rest.”

You stare up at him. “Boone, you’ve had a big day, too.”

“Baby,” Boone looks down at you, his eyes serious. “Will you stop arguing with me and just try and get some sleep? Today was just a normal Tuesday for me, but it wasn’t for you.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, letting silence fall over you for a few moments. “I actually can’t sleep while my hair is still wet or I’ll feel gross in the morning.” Your words are quick, not wanting to irritate Boone any more.

Boone, however, hears every single one of them. He lets out an annoyed huff – even though he’s not annoyed at you in the slightest – and moves to slide off of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You sit up, slightly alarmed and already missing the warmth of his body beside yours.

“Don’t think I’m lettin’ you ride in the truck with us next time, baby,” he starts, changing the topic as he walks into the bathroom. “I know you wanna be up in the action more often to help with the videos, but you being safe is more important than getting views on Youtube.”

“Boone–”

He emerges from the bathroom holding the motel hairdryer. “Is there a plug beside the bed?” He asks, wandering back over to you. “I’m gonna dry your hair for you. No arguing.”

#twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #boone #boone twisters #boone x reader #boone x you #boone twisters x reader #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic

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bigification · 10 months ago

Text

Spiked

Friday,

I feel strong, but these protein shakes haven't been helping my bulk as much as I want. I'm still too skinny. Maybe I should give them more time though, I've only been taking them for a couple weeks after all. I'll try bumping it up to two a day, and I'll eat more, that should help.

I pick up my phone as I leave the gym and stare at the Grindr app. Should I? Is it fair to Dean that I keep bringing back guys to our place. This would be the fourth time this week, I think I can hold off for his sake. Anyway, I put away my phone and head back to my apartment.

"How was the workout?" Dean asked when I got home. I'm shocked, he's never really been interested in my workouts before. We used to go together before we were roommates but now that we live together, the gym is a rare activity we do apart. Besides, he hasn't really been going that much recently.

"Oh, it was good... I'm just not bulking as much as I want to." I reply.

"That must be why you got those protein shakes, huh?"

Why is he taking so much notice of this stuff now? We can share the shakes if he really wants to, he might just be trying to motivate himself to get back in the gym. But he could just ask if that's what he wants. "Ya, I'm gonna try to drink more, maybe that'll help." I say as I go to the fridge and grab one.

"That's good." Dean says in a flat tone, he usually does this when he's lost interest in a conversation.

I get distracted from the conversation anyway as I drink the shake. Something seems different about it, it's got a bit of a bitter aftertaste now. I figure it's probably just me getting tired of the taste and shrug it off.

Saturday,

I wake up in a cold sweat. This was unusual given that I get up every day at this time to go to the gym. I look to the clock and it's... 10 o'clock. Holy shit, I slept in. I'm usually at the gym by 8. I calm down a bit when I remember it's Saturday, so I have nothing to do anyway.

I roll out of bed and hobble my way to the bathroom. My head is spinning and my stomach is growling, I felt hungover. I didn't drink last night did I? I don't really remember. However, all of that leaves my mind in an instant when I look in the mirror. I rub my eyes and look again. Where do I even begin. An itchy beard now covers my face, despite the fact that I shaved yesterday morning. My sweat glistened on my distended stomach, my six pack buried under a soft bloat. My pecs are swollen and slightly rounded.

What the fuck. My mind is trying to process what's happening, but it can't. I turn to the side and see the subtle S shape in my stomach and my ass. Was it the shake? It couldn't have been, it hasn't done shit for me in weeks and now it does this! You know what, this is fine. I pinch my stomach. It's mostly bloated, just a small layer of fat, nothing I can't work off in a couple weeks. If anything this will give me a head start on my bulk.

I throw on some of my loose gym clothes that do a decent job at hiding my physique, but I still look different. I grab my gym back and try to sneak out, I don't want Dean seeing me like this. I quickly try to rush out the door, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Dean.

"I didn't know you were still home, you usually leave before I get up." He says nonchalantly.

"Oh ya... I just decided to sleep in today." I pull my bag to cover my stomach.

"Okay, have fun at the gym. Nice beard by the way, when did you decide to grow it out."

"I've just been a bit lazy with shaving it, that's all." I'm sweating buckets.

"Well it looks good, you should keep it." He smiles at me.

I can feel myself blush, so I smile and get out as quickly as possible. I chug a protein shake on the way to the gym, noting that bitter aftertaste again. It's probably nothing, I have bigger issues to deal with.

Once I start my workout, I feel pretty self conscious about my body. I know no one else could know that something is off, but I still feel off. But as the workout goes on, I start feeling more and more comfortable. I start hitting more reps than I ever have before, though cardio is a bit of a slog. It doesn't matter, I feel surprisingly great. I finish off the workout great, and flex in the mirror for a bit of a confidence boost.

I drink another shake on the way home. As I get home, Dean seems to be waiting for me. He asks how my workout was again. He's acting so weird again. I decide to spend the rest of the day out, drinking the night away. I am bulking after all.

Sunday,

I wake up feeling like I got hit by a truck, with no memory of how much I drank last night. I've never felt like this after a night out though. The more I think about it, the more my mind points me to the shakes. They have to have something to do with this. I don't have time for this right now though, I have to get to the gym.

I brush my teeth and shave, I'm shocked at the beard I grew in just two days. I try throwing on some clothes, but I feel some resistance. My largest gym shirt no longer fits, there's always a sliver of skin showing and it goes past my belly button when I reach up. My shorts fit a bit better, but they hug my ass very tight. I think I'll have to buy some new clothes on the way home.

The workout goes similarly to yesterday. I start self conscious of the fact that my belly is showing and my shorts look like they're about to rip. But the worry escapes my mind when I destroy my routine. I feel so strong.

I feel great by the time my workout ends. I head to the locker room and take off my shirt. Yeesh, I have a full on beer belly now. This is no longer just a bloat, my stomach is covered in a thick layer of fat. I didn't even know you could gain this much fat in only a couple of days, and I'm not even eating that much. And what's with the beard, I shaved this morning and it's already coming back in. Although my arms are looking massive, I could even feel my sleeves stretch from my biceps when I was working out. I stare at my belly a bit as I think about what to do.

I throw on my shirt again and head out. I pull up to a clothing store and pick out a few loose gym clothes that should fit me if I bulk even more.

"Hi, where are the change rooms." I ask an employee.

"Oh.." he pauses for a moment, looking at my belly. I notice that my shirt is riding up more than it was this morning. I instinctively cover my exposed belly with my arms and shrivel up in embarrassment.

"Just over there sir." He awkwardly points to the back of the store.

I grab a few larger clothes on the way out and leave the store as fast as humanly possible. I instinctively down another shake on the way home. Dean didn't say anything to me when I got home, but he glanced at me and then looked away. He is acting so strange.

I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a rattling coming from the kitchen. I walk out to investigate and see Dean doing something with the protein shakes. Is he secretly drinking them at night? He could just ask and I would give some to him. But I see him pour something into the shake and then close it back up again before putting them back in the fridge. What the hell? I try to think of what he could be doing. He stashes something away in the bottom of the cupboard and starts walking back to his bedroom. I quickly hide in my room until I hear his door close, and then I go back to the kitchen to investigate. I look at the protein shakes in the fridge and notice their seals have been broken, I can't believe I never noticed that. I move over to the cupboard and find a small bag with white powder in it. It looks like coke, but why the fuck would Dean put coke in my shakes. And besides, I don't think fat, muscle, and hair growth are symptoms of coke. Maybe I'll give him a taste of his own medicine. I go back to the fridge and pull out the jug of orange juice that Dean drinks every morning. I have no idea how much he put in my shakes, so I just pour a bunch in. I kind of feel like a secret agent, sneaking in a mysterious powder into his drink. I would feel worse, but he already did this to me so I'm fine ignoring my morals this time.

I head to bed, lying awake in my bed for a while. Thinking about what I just did, thinking about the results. It's making it hard to fall asleep, but I eventually do.

Monday,

I wake up feeling better than I had the past few days. I go through my normal routine, throw on my gym clothes, and grab a bite to eat. When I open the fridge, i see the orange juice and protein shakes and I'm reminded of my situation. Every morning I get a few moments of blissful ignorance before it's ripped away. I think for a bit, then grab a couple shakes and put in my bag. I'm kinda liking this new me, the strong me, and the belly is definitely growing on me. I catch my reflection in the mirror as I head out, I'm really committing to this aren't I? I ask myself as I look at the bushy beard that has engulfed my face and the belly and moobs that are unmistakable under my shirt. I smile and then head to the gym.

Every day that I spend at the gym, I get less self conscious. I almost forget about the fact that my hairy gut I exposed to the world whenever I reach up. I only care about the fact that I have been increasing the weight on my workouts every day and it feels amazing.

I take a shower and get dressed for work... Oh shit. I never bought work clothes that fit me, I'm reminded when I try in vain to button up my dress shirt. I stop by the store again and grab a couple shirts and pairs of pants. The thought of the protein shake in my car makes me think of the future, so I buy a few clothes in larger sizes too.

I barely make it to work on time. The day went by fast, but all I could remember were the stares and the comments from coworkers. "You forget to shave this morning Santa?" "Might want to lay off the doughnuts in the break room buddy." "We're concerned about your health." "Did you forget to stop bulking?" That was all I heard today. It was embarrassing at first, but it soon turned to encouraging. Each sly comment just makes me want to grow more. It honestly makes me realize how much I'm enjoying growing, and makes me even more excited to see what happens to Dean. It was hard to keep my dick in my pants today, I think the only reason no one noticed was because they were too busy staring at my gut.

I make it back home after work and dress down to my underwear first thing. Damn I am getting hairy, I run my hands through the forest of hair that has grown all over my body. As I'm doing so, an amazing idea runs through my mind. I'm gonna surprise Dean. There's no way I can hide the changes in my body regardless of how baggy my clothes are, so I'm just gonna show it off. I lay down on the couch by the front door, still only in my underwear, and I wait for him to show up.

"I'm hom- Oh hey..." Dean stutters as he sees me.

"Hey bud, what's up." I say nonchalantly.

"Just tired from work, where are your clothes?"

"I had a crazy workout today, just figured I'd air out a bit. Ever since I started this bulk, things have really taken off for me at the gym." I say while I rub my gut. In trying my best to make him uncomfortable and it seems to be working.

"Okay, well if you need me I'll be in my room." He quickly scurries into his room.

I just chuckle to myself and continue rubbing my belly. I wonder if there's any leftovers in the fridge?

Tuesday,

Same old same old. Get out of bed, get dressed, shave, grab a shake and head to the gym.

I feel so imposing at the gym now. I think I've gotten taller, because I look down on almost every now. I have a beard and a deeper voice than I used to, and not to mention the big gut and strong biceps. I'm like the biggest guy here, and people treat me like it. Women and men stare, and people tend to let me use the machines I want. I also notice myself grunting when I work out, I wonder if the entire gym can hear it. Anyway, the point is I feel amazing. This is the first day I dropped cardio because who fucking needs it, I sure don't. Now I focus purely on mass gain. I'm tired of holding back and I don't care what other people think, I want more.

I arrived at work, rocking far more confidence than I did yesterday, and people noticed. I don't care if they stare or comment, and I don't care that my dress shirt is already too small for me. People even asked me how I gained as much muscle as it did that fast. I just tell them to eat a shit ton and drink protein shakes, but maybe once the jig is up with Dean I'll ask him how to get the powder. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing some of the men at work blow up like I did. This is not the time to think about it though, it's getting hard to hide my boner at work. The only thing hiding it when I sit down is my gut.

I get home and notice Dean is home too. He must have stayed home, I wonder if it's because of the powder. He won't seem to leave his room though, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see the results.

I just decide to change into some comfortable clothes and eat my heart out. Though I'm shocked at how small my once 'baggy' clothes are. They barely fit past my stomach, and they ride up past my belly button when I lift my arms.

Fuck I'm getting fat. There is nothing hotter to me right now than the thought of my body growing. I make my way to the kitchen and grab a few more shakes and start chugging, feeling my dick harden with each gulp. I feel like a fucking pig, what has come over me. The shake is dribbling down my beard and onto my shirt, but I can't stop. Once I've had enough protein shakes for a lifetime, I stumble to my room and promptly fall asleep.

Wednesday,

I wake up in a pool of sweat, similar to a couple days ago. My mouth tastes awful and my body feels heavy. I question what happened last night as I roll myself out of bed. I drag myself to the bathroom and freeze in shock at my image in the mirror. Holy shit. I pull up my shirt to see a massive ball belly, covered in a thick layer of hair. I pull my shirt up further and see a pair of soft man tits that now lay on my gut. Every part of my body looks swollen, my arms, my hands, even my face looks puffy.

I let out a loud burp that reeks of protein shake, and suddenly I remember last. I walk to the kitchen and see six empty protein shakes on the table. I chuckle in a surprisingly deep voice before opening the fridge and grabbing a shake. I down it before getting ready to head to the gym. I put on my largest gym shirt and it only reaches halfway around my gut, I try to put on my shorts but I can't get them to cover the top of my ass crack. That's alright, I don't particularly care if anyone sees, it's their fault for looking.

I spend the day at the gym enjoying all the attention from shocked gym goers. They watch in amazement or contempt as this fatass walks around like he owns the gym.

I go to work with a similar energy, though I do have a dress shirt that still barely fits me so at least I'm not half naked going to work. My clothes still leave little to my coworkers imaginations, as I confidently strut my fatass around the office.

I get home and stand in shock as I walk through the door. Is that Dean!? Across the living room stands a morbidly obese man wearing nothing but boots, a baseball cap, and a ripped towel around his waist.

"You did this to me!" The man yells in a gruff southern accent.

"Dean, is that you?" I respond.

"Yea, you dumbass! You gave me some of that powder didn't ya." He turns to face me and reveals the damage the powder did to his body.

"Hey you did it to me first! I was only returning the favour."

"I only put I bit into your shakes, how much did'ya give me!? Look what it's done to me!" He grabs a handful of the fat on his belly, and it jiggles like jello.

"Well I didn't know how much to give you."

"And you're only s'posed to take it when you're workin out, otherwise it only grows fat and not muscle. Beside, why d'ya keep drinking it after you knew?" He asks

"Because I like me this way, it just felt good to get revenge. Why did you even do it in the first place?" I ask in return.

"Because I thought if you got fat you'd stop hooking up with so many guys, and you'd notice me. It was only s'posed to be a bit, but then you started drinkin the shakes like crazy and now look at ya." He responds in a genuine voice. I don't know what to say, so I stand silent. He grabs his phone and approaches me. "This is what I looked like 2 days ago!" He shows me a picture of himself. "I was so happy that I could finally grow a beard. Little did I know why."

"This is what I looked like yesterday." He shows me another photo. "My hair was falling out and my hairline was receding. I woke up looking like I was pregnant, and my pants couldn't fit anymore."

"I was so scared that I ate some of that powder, but I didn't know what to do, so I stayed in my room all day and drank nothing but orange juice. Then I woke up this morning as a bald 350 pound man. That's when I knew you put that powder in my orange juice." He seems frantic.

I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed him and kissed him. "I never realized how hot your accent is until now." I say as I pull away from the kiss, he smiles in return. In the moment, another terribly amazing idea comes to my head. I grab the bag of powder he had left on the table and pour some of the powder into his mouth before snorting some myself. He looks at me in shock for a moment before swallowing it. I smile before dragging his fatass to my tiny king sized bed.

Then next Monday,

I just hit 300 today. I still go to the gym everyday, so that keeps my gut from growing out of control. Though I have had some interesting conversations with my family since. But the shocked faces of my family when they see me and their concerned comments if my weight gain only fuels the fire. Though my dad seems to be the only one who says he likes the new me, says I look manlier. It's funny coming from the next fattest man in the family, only behind me of course.

The scale stopped working on Dean after last Thursday, but he has to be pushing 500. I really gave him an insane dose of that powder, and the more fat he got the less capable he was to workout and thus reduce the fat gained. He just sits around and pigs out all day now, and I wouldn't want him any other way. I usually bring home a few meals from a couple fast food restaurants for his first dinner, and when I feel up to it, I'll add a little bit of powder to his meal.

I'm also enjoying work far more. I told all the men at my work about the powder, and within a few days I was seeing results. Some became as fat as Dean by the end of the week, clearly they neglected the part where it said to workout while consuming the powder. Some look like me, with big arms and an even bigger belly. And some have just become muscle beasts, almost like they spent hours a day at the gym. I also feel more imposing at work, people respect me more, even if half of them are bigger than me now. It even helped me get a raise, which funds all of the fast food trips for Dean and I. One day I hope to be the big boss with a silver bushy beard and hulking gut that spills out of my suit.

#male tf #fat tf #fat belly #bhm weight gain #masculine #male wg #muscle tf #ex jock #dad bod #hairy

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etherealstar-writes · 1 year ago

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: seven

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the REAL karate kid

good afternoon losers

and y/n <3

the imposter

hey

willybum

good afternoon you dumbass

and hello to you too y/n

the REAL karate kid

rude

how are you y/n?

the imposter

eh i'm doing fine i guess

stairway

is everything alright

the imposter

i got fired from work today 😔

lotte

what happened?

if you don't mind me asking

the imposter

so i told ya what i do for work yeah?

well i've worked for this company for the past

whole year as their main solo media manager

and then my boss found out that his good old

friend's son was looking for a job and he's also

a photographer and social media manager so he

decided to fire me and hire him instead to

keep his relationship strong with his old friend

the REAL karate kid

that really sucks

your boss sounds like a terrible person

the imposter

yeah he was a really difficult person

i am kinda glad tho ngl

i don't have to see his annoying face ever again

but back to job hunting again 😔

neev

if it makes you feel better

leah got head-shotted in the head

by lessi during training

the imposter

i really hope someone got proof of it

stairway

i gotcha

maya

HELP

lotte

got K.O-ed lol

willybum

this isn't funny

i got a full on concussion

i'll get you back russo

the REAL karate kid

not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️

willybum

EXCUSE ME?!

the imposter

dam

them calves 😮‍💨

has anyone ever asked you

to step on them?

neev

um y/n is there something you'd

like to share with the group ...

willybum

weirdly enough yeah

i have been asked that

elton

it was actually just y/n asking

on a secret account

the imposter

don't expose me like that 😩

meado

every time i open this group chat

i get deeply concerned for you all again

i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like

i should be concerned about her as well

the imposter

woah

meado

i thought we were getting along well 😔

stairway

well if meado is concerned then

i guess she's offering to pay for

our therapy so let's go gang

the imposter

also

why do guys always train and

play football together?

elton

oh you know

we just like to play football together at times

stairway

yeah

it's fun

the imposter

okay ....

who am i to judge

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE LION KING SQUAD

russo

so guys

i have done something

toone

oh no

that is never a good sign

le tissier

okay i'm intrigued

this is gonna be bad

wubben-moy

the fact that she's using the group chat

without y/n is not a good sign

stanway

is she about to introduce her new wife

to us or something? did you like run away

and get married in vegas or something?

charles

we literally saw her yesterday georgia

so if she had then that would be

insanely impressive

toone

is that why you weren't at training today?

greenwood

ella looked very lost today

it was worrying

russo

yeah

i ran away with y/n and we got married

toone

HUH

stanway

WHAT

charles

EXCUSE ME

russo

OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS

not yet anyway 😏

but back to the point

leah was also in on this

bright

oh like that's any better

williamson

excuse me??

wubben-moy

here we go

russo

okay

you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?

well leah and i thought we'd put in a

good word for her in our media admin so

that you know .... maybe she can get

offered a job here and you know we can

actually meet her and get to know her irl ....

stanway

that is actually ....

the most decent idea i've heard from ya

charles

yeah fr

hemp

oh my god y'all are such simps

stanway

shut up

toone

i do wonder when y/n will find out about

who we are or if she ever will

charles

nah she's got to find out soon with

the euros starting next week?

williamson

i reckon we tell her after the euros

wubben-moy

well that shall be eventful

part eight here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader #niamh charles x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #beth mead x reader #maya le tissier x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics #womens football

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cherryxbooo · 11 months ago

Note

Lewis fic. Its his birthday y/n and him have an age gap. Not a crazy one but she teases him about his age.

My old man

Summary: It's Lewis's birthday, and you never fail to make him feel old on his special day.

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for showing your love for my first-ever story on here. It means a lot!!! Also, I'm trying my best to write new stories based on your requests, but I'm currently in my exam period, so things might go slower. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this short fic!

Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Mention of age gap (10 years)

Genre: fluff

It's currently 4 o'clock in the morning and Lewis is sound asleep next to me in bed. Why am I up so early already? Well it's my favourite human's birthday today and I want to make this day special for him. Knowing that Lewis always wakes up at around 6 o'clock for his early morning workouts made me get up early to decorate the house and get his favourites for his birthday.

I bought all the decorations last night and did a pretty good job at hiding it from Lewis. Starting by blowing up all the balloons and hanging them around the place followed by the rest of the decoration. If there is one thing that Lewis doesn't like, it's seeing his age on display. So that's exaclty what I did. I bought the numbers 39 in a big form and hung them on the most noticable place in the house to tease him even more.

After I was done with decorating the place I went out and went to the store to buy the last few things that were needed, thank God 24/7 hour stores are a thing otherwise I would've been fucked. While strolling along the aisles I can't help but find the perfect gift for Lewis. It was a dog shirt with the words 'Grandpa's favourite boy' displayed on it, promising myself to get Roscoe to wear it later. After getting the last things I went back home knowing that it was almost time for Lewis to wake up.

Putting everything on the counter i start to prepare his birthday breakfast with all his favourites in it. I still had plenty of time since I already wrapped his gifts yesterday, so in the meantime while I was making his breakfast I quickly took the dog shirt out for Roscoe to wear. He looked so adorable but I couldn't help but laugh at the shirt. I don't think Lewis would even be surprised since I've been teasing him about his age non stop.

While putting the last things on the table I felt two strong hands wrap around my waist. "Babe you went all out this year"

Lewis exclaimed. "Well it's my favourite old man's birthday I had to make it special." I added. Lewis groans "Love are you seriously still making fun of me?" I gasped but it was quickly followed by my laugh. "I would never!"

"I just wanted to celebrate you getting closer to the forties" Lewis groans again. "Babe seriously stop that I'm still in my thirties and that's what matters and also you're just 10 years younger then me your time will come as well"

"Jeez Lewis you're making it sound as if I'm about to die or something but for now I'm happily enjoying my twenties" I say pecking his lips and leading him to the breakfast table.

"Babe there was no need to put those numbers up there" Lewis exclaimes. "Well you're an old man now I had to remind you before you forget" I say with a laugh.

Lewis groans even more. "You're never letting it go are you?" "Ofcourse not old man!". "But babe on a serious note you didn't have to do all this" He said coming over to me and kissing me passionately. "But i wanted to since you deserve the world Lew" I tell him with a peck to his lips.

"Thanks beautifull I love you!" He adds "And I love you too My old man. Soon the kiss turned into a makeout session when Lewis breaks the kiss and adds "Well after all this I would love for this birthday gift to be taken to the bedroom"

Smirking I jump on to him with both my legs secured around his waist. But before we could go any further Roscoe pops up and starts barking for our attention. Lewis puts me down and both of our attention is on Roscoe.

"Hey old guy, did you want to wish your dad a happy birthday as well?" Lewis says while scratching behind Roscoe's ears. But then Lewis freezes noticing the shirt I put on Roscoe earlier. He turns to me, but I was already out of sight, running for my life.

"Y/N ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

yourusername posted on Instagram!

Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

yourusername Happy birthday to my old man! You light up my world with your love and laughter, and I'm so lucky to have you by my side. Today, we celebrate not only the day you were born but also all the achievements you created in your life. You bring so much joy and happiness into my life, and I can't wait to create more amazing memories together! Thank you for being the most loving and caring person in my life. Happy birthday my love! 🤍🎈🎉

View all comments

lewishamilton Thank you my love! I love you so much 💕 Also I will ignore any old man related comments.

yourusername ☹️

georgerussell63 Happy birthday old man!

lewishamiltonlover3 Happy birthday bae!

roscoeloveslewlew Y/n will never let him live 😂

landonorris Yeah @yourusername show the old man some respect!

lewishamilton 🙄

lewisamgfan Lando and George being bullies is so them core 🤣

The end

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine

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minnielvr · 22 days ago

Text

PROD. KITKAT - CHAPTER 3 : "fine shyt"

while on the way to the jyp building for your first official job with stray kids, you wondered how it would be. would they be loud like they usually are? will they be awkward around you? you didn't have enough time to think about it though, you were already at jyp.

you scan your id badge and make your way over to one of the recording rooms. todays plan was to talk to stray kids and see the concept they had in mind for their new album and make some sample beats for music.

you find the room and knock on the door, you hear someone say come in and then open the door to find bang chan, changbin, and jisung. you bow your head and greet them and they do the same.

"good morning y/n, how are you?" bang chan asks you.

"good morning to you too, im doing fine, and you?" you replied back. you were still trying to talk formally with him, at least in korean, it felt more professional, especially since you just met him.

"im doing good too, excited to work with you today" he smiles at you.

you give a polite smile and nod your head in return. you thought that you should talk to changbin and jisung too. you turn your head toward them, but they are already talking and giggling with each other, you decided to just stay quiet.

bang chan called your name and showed you all the equipment in the room, which wasn't much different than all the other rooms you had worked in. again, you weren't really paying attention to what he was saying just letting it go through one ear and out the other, muttering the occasional "ohh, yea, really?, wow" here and there.

all of a sudden there was a loud knock on the door and the rest of the stray kids showed up. the room instantly became loud but not for long because felix spotted you in the corner of the room and said, "oh look, y/n noona is here!" after that, everyone went silent, and it got kind of awkward.

"well lets get to work then?" jisung asked, trying to break the tension.

the rest of the members sat down and explained what the whole theme and concept of the album was, as well as explaining what type of music they wanted. you took notes on your laptop, making reminders and such, while occasionally checking your phone. you discussed with them a little bit to go over everything and made sure you understood correctly.

after the little discussion was done, every member left except bang chan, changbin, and jisung. you figured now you guys were going to play around with some beats and see what you could come up with.

you guys did exactly that, for 2 hours straight. you also talked a bit with the boys, getting to know them more. they seemed like nice guys, you just didn't want to work with them. you missed working with your friends. (mainly because you didn't actually work)

changbin and jisung had to leave early with the other boys for dance practice or something like that, but you stayed with chan for a little longer. helping him sample some things and whatnot.

"so y/n," chan says in english, "what do you think so far? about us, i mean."

"oh uh, you guys are," you spent a good 10 seconds trying to find a word to describe them, "unique."

chan laughed, "unique?? whats that supposed to mean?" he said with a smile on his face.

you finally realized it could have sounded rude and your eyes went wide and you instantly started apologizing.

"oh my god im sorry i didn't mean it like that!!" you said while shaking your hands.

he laughed again, "im just messing with ya, i know what you meant."

you sighed, feeling relieved.

"actually, you and felix remind me of this other friend i have, his name is jake, hes from another kpop group" you explained.

"jake from enhyphen?" bang chan asked.

you nodded your head in response.

"ohh felix is actually friends with him, i think. anyway did you use to work with them too?"

"nah i've only worked here, i just know them because of itzy."

"ahh. so you have a lot of idol friends then im guessing?"

"not really, i try to keep it professional when im working but itzy are just something else. they always used to pull me around and take me with them wherever they went. we're like sisters to be honest. without them and enhyphen, i'd be pretty lonely." you say, reminiscing old memories.

bang chan looks at you with a little glow in his eyes, it reminds him of how he felt with his boys.

"ah, so all your other friends are back home?" he asked.

"yea, but i never really have time to go back, jyp never gives me time off. so we kinda grew apart, except a few really close friends." you said with a sad expression. you realized you were becoming a little too emotional and decided to change the subject.

"so anyway, whats it like being an idol? i heard you guys are like, at your peak right now and stuff." you asked.

"its..stressful to say the least. especially because i also have to produce the music. my old partners wouldn't really do anything so i was left making all the music. thats why we needed to hire someone different." he explained.

'shit' you thought to yourself. you barely do work yourself. what made jyp think you can work with a top boy group right now?

"oh damn, well, i assure you, i'll help you a lot. or - i'll try my best." you said with a smile on your face. he seemed like he need the help anyway, he always looked tired.

you guys carried on doing work and talking until it was 7:00, the sun had already set and you figured it was the best time to get going now.

you and bang chan wrapped up and walked out the door, he was making his way to the dance room and you to the lobby, you said your goodbyes and went your separate ways.

───────────────────────────────

series masterlist • prev • next

the taglist is open!!! pls comment on this post or send an ask if u wld like to be added!!!

authors note: me when fine shyt

taglist : @kkamismom12 @haven-skies @likeathunderoverflow @hwangrfrnd @xerces00 @hyunjinvoid @dansphil

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harunayuuka2060 · 1 year ago

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MC's employer: With all the experiences you have, you could've applied to a better job rather than to stay in this old, pathetic flower shop.

MC: You have accepted my application. Are you regretting it now?

Their employer: I mean, you look kind, reliable, and I'm sure I can depend on you but it makes me so guilty because I can only give you a minimum wage.

MC: That's enough for me, Miss. Now I'm getting back to work. You wouldn't want the customers waiting.

Their employer: Oh surely. Wish you luck again today!

MC: Thank you, Miss. *goes back to the counter*

*a customer walks in*

MC: Hello there. What can I get for you?

Customer: I'm here to buy flowers.

MC: Is it a gift for a special someone? We have a ready-made bouquet.

Customer: No. I want you to choose flowers for me according to this message. *hands them a note*

"Please forgive me and come back."

MC: Perfect. We have all the flowers that you need. Please give me a moment to arrange them.

Customer: Take your time.

MC: *arranges the bouquet; finishes it within minutes*

MC: *returns to the counter* Would you like me to attach this message?

Customer: ...

Customer: No. This will do. Thank you.

MC: Thank you for choosing Fragrant Fields. Have a nice day.

*The customer leaves.*

Asmo: How is it, Lucifer? Did they notice that it's you?

Lucifer: *removes his disguise* No.

Satan: I really thought they would see right through it. Is it because they're no longer a sorcerer?

Mammon: Man! Now what?

Belphie: How about we show up and ask them directly to come back in Devildom?

Levi: Wouldn't that make things awkward though?

Beel: Yeah. MC left Devildom three years ago. We should've done it sooner.

Mammon: Well that's because Barbatos wouldn't let us!

Lucifer: *sigh* Don't start arguing here. We'll think of another way.

MC: ...

MC: Miss?

Their employer: Yes?

MC: I've got a text from my landlady that there was a sudden problem in my apartment. Would it be alright to sleep at your house nearby?

Their employer: Sure. No one's using it anyway. Here's the key.

MC: *chuckles* Thank you, Miss. You're so kind.

Their employer: *waves her hand dismissively* Close the shop for me, okay?

MC: Yes, Miss. Take care.

Solomon: Hello? MC? How are you?

MC: I'm doing fine. By the way...

MC: I've met Lucifer here in the human world.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: Did he bother you?

MC: *chuckles* He was in disguise so... I'm not really sure.

MC: Maybe he's not here for me.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: I wouldn't be so sure about that.

Solomon: What reason does he have to be in the human world other than taking you back?

MC: What for? I'm no longer any use of them.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: MC, I want to visit you. It's been three years.

MC: ...

MC: After I buy myself a house, I promise to invite you.

Solomon: *whines* But when will that be?

MC: *chuckles* I'm hanging up. Please take care.

Solomon: Take care of yourself too, MC. I'll call you again.

MC: *ends the call*

MC: ...

MC: *smiles to themselves* Now I feel so much better.

Mammon: So what time are they going home?

Asmo: It's already late. Are you sure this is where they're staying?

Satan: Yes. I can't be wrong.

Belphie: *is in MC's bed* Satan is right. This is really their apartment.

Mammon: Then where are they?!

Beel: I'm guessing that MC had guessed we're all in the human world and they're avoiding us.

Levi: What do you think, Lucifer?

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: If that is the case, then I'm afraid I have to drag them back.

MC: *sleeping peacefully*

Luke: MC doesn't seem as exhausted as before.

Simeon: Hm-hm.

Luke: But Simeon, are you sure it's alright to see MC like this without them knowing?

Simeon: We just want to be sure that they're doing fine. And aren't you their guardian angel, Luke?

Luke: !!!

Luke: Y-Yes! I shouldn't feel guilty! It's my job to protect them!

Simeon: Shh. *smiles* You're going to wake them up.

Luke: R-Right...

Simeon: ...

Michael: MC is going to disappear soon.

Simeon: What do you mean by that?

Michael: ...

Michael: When a human disappears, wouldn't that only mean one thing?

Simeon: ...

Simeon: Please prevent it from occurring.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me brothers #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

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vanillesuiker · 17 days ago

Text

A mind blowing job (Percy Weasley/fem reader)

Tags: smut, blowjobs, lingerie, overworked Percy Weasley and just general deviousness >:)

A/N: hehe freaky. This was written for my oc, but I edited for an x reader experience. So it might not be the most neutral, but I tried!

Also, some Freaky art drawn by the lovely @bastaardsuiker !! It's not very... risque. So hopefully tumblr won't kill me idk how this works.

This is my first time posting fic on Tumblr (HI!), so if there's something I could do differently in terms of formatting and stuff, please tell me!

Alright now get freaky!

｡ ₊°༺ ☾✶༻°₊ ｡

“I'm almost done, I promise.”

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. Laying in Percy's bed all day while he sat at his desk working on reports for the ministry wasn't exactly what she had planned for today. He was supposed to have a day off, and it was just perfect timing, she just picked up a custom order from a little shop in Diagon Alley. She had planned to change into it quickly when he was clearing his desk up, but at this point it was hard to tell if he would ever get to that.

Instead of showing him what she bought (and hopefully enjoying how much he liked it), she had spent the day helping Molly clean the chicken coop, sitting at a garden table gossiping with Bill and Charlie, and listening in fascination with Arthur to Harry talking about mundane muggle things. And all this time, Percy was just writing away in his room.

The sound of his quill scratching against the parchment was like nails on chalkboard, his quiet muttering while he wrote becoming increasingly frustrating. She felt like a ghost, he seemed to barely notice she was there. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. A devious little idea.

She'd just have to make him remember she was here.

Without trying to be quiet (he wouldn't look anyway, clearly a report on who the responsibility of owl dropping falls to when owls deliver post was more important), she got off the bed, grabbing the brown paper package. Inside was a bundle of dark purple lace, with black ribbons and trims.

Semi hidden behind a tall, crooked wardrobe, she changed out of her jeans (a new addition that her friends had insisted she looked good in) and Percy's jumper, slipping on the purple dress. It was short, cinching right under her breasts and flowing out from there, and almost completely see through.

She sneaks up behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. He barely reacts, his quill pausing for only a split second before he continues writing. She leans over, head resting on his shoulder as her hands trail down across his chest. Now he freezes, ink dripping from the quill.

“Almost done?” She whispers, kissing right under his jaw.

“... Almost, I promise.”

She groans, moving her hands back to massage his shoulders. He sighs in response, dropping his quill.

“I've promised that a lot today, haven't I?” Percy mumbles, closing his eyes and letting his head tip back. He looked tired, exhausted even, and suddenly she wasn't angry at him.

Well, maybe a little bit angry at him. But mostly at the ministry, for overworking him so much.

The bags under his eyes were noticeable, his shoulders were so tense, his hair was messy and he somehow still looked so good. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, earning a soft smile from him.

“It was supposed to be your day off today, remember?” Her hands drop from his shoulders again, shamelessly feeling his chest through his dress shirt. “I had plans, Percy.”

He opened his eyes at that, his look of confusion quickly turning into disappointment at himself when he caught just a glimpse of the purple fabric.

“Is that new?”

“Yes, I told you I got something new.” She walks around the chair, and he instinctively pushes it back, making space for her.

“Looks good.” He wanted to hit himself for being so plain about it, but his brain was just fried. She sat down in his lap, straddling him with her hands interlocked behind his neck as she pressed kisses along his jawline.

“You should take a break.” She whispered in his ear, popping one of the buttons of his shirt open. It breaks him, and he finally kisses her.

It's so desperate, from the way he kisses her to the way his hands cling onto her. The entire time he was working, he was so focused on that stupid report that he didn't even realise how tired he was, let alone how badly he needed this. But as soon as her hands made contact with his shoulders, he suddenly couldn't think of anything else.

She opens another button, and then another, kissing down from his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of red marks down to his chest. Manicured nails rake across his back and he just can't stand it anymore.

With the strength that only desperate Percy has, he picked her up, accidentally knocking against the desk. Something falls over, but he doesn't care, too focused on getting them both to his bed, her giggles muffled by his kiss.

On the bed, she quickly climbs back on top of him, unbuttoning the last buttons of his shirt. Sitting up on her knees, her eyes trail across his body, seemingly not satisfied with the buttons she hadn't undone yet. Before he realised what she was doing, the button of his trousers was popped open, completing her collection.

“Wait…” He whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to do anything, I was kind of a dick today.”

“My love is unconditional, Percy.” She said proudly, tugging at his pants. “And I want to do this, now lift your hips before I Evanesco these.”

Who was he to refuse that?

All he could do was lay there, watching as she kissed up his thigh, and he almost vanished his boxers himself with how long she was taking. She finally pulled them down, and he was quick to lift his hips again.

For a moment, she just stared at him, hands gripping his thighs. He wasn't sure if he wanted to look away, slightly embarrassed at how easily he got excited by her, but the look on her face was one he'd think about for months from now.

She wraps one hand around him, slowly stroking him while the other hand slid underneath his tank top. His eyes screw shut, giving her the perfect opportunity to take him into her mouth.

He jolts up, hands digging into the mattress as she slowly bobbed her head up and down. His breathing is ragged and his face is completely flushed, the hickeys she sucked into his neck already starting to colour purple. A whimper escapes his lips when she swirls her tongue right around his tip.

She looks at him, a sparkle in her eyes that he knew too well at this point, and slaps a hand over his mouth as she speeds up. A warm hand pushes his hips firmly against the mattress, the other wrapped around him tightly.

“Fuck…” Percy hisses, tilting his head back. “...I don't think I'll… I won't last much longer…”

She only seems to take his warning as a sign to do more, hollowing her cheeks out as she sucks harder. He's already a moaning, sweaty mess, propped up on one elbow as every curse word he ever held in fell from his lips.

“Please don't stop, I'm so- fuck, I love you, just don't stop, just-”

His hips struggle against her hand and his teeth dig into his lip as he tries to stop himself from alerting the entire house of his orgasm. He half expects her to pull away, but she just takes as much of him in as possible, continuing to suck him off until he collapsed onto the bed, weakly tugging at her hair to get her mouth off him.

With what little strength he has left, he glances at her. Her hair is messed up, one of the straps of her dress hangs off her shoulder, and her lips are red and puffy, something white dripping down from her bottom lip.

“Merlin, I think you've killed me.” Percy mumbles, summoning a cup of water from his desk to her with a lazy wave of his wand.

He lays on his bed motionless, too overstimulated to notice the people outside of his room until the door swings open.

“Guys, mum says we're gonna have dinner outsi- Oh my God that's disgusting!” George makes a grossed out face, turning away from half naked Percy and the literal cum dripping from her mouth.

“I'm so telling mum!” Fred stands in the doorway for just a second longer before slamming the door shut and running down the stairs.

“I wish you could've actually killed me.” Percy groans.

She swishes some water around in her mouth, making a grossed out face when she swallows.

“Yuck, you need to drink less coffee.” She sticks her tongue out, setting the cup down. “And your mum is absolutely going to kill us when the fucking chastity squad reports us.”

Percy chuckles a little, too fucked out to really process the consequences. She lays down next to him, nuzzling her face into his neck. It's a peaceful moment, almost picture perfect if it wasn't for the messed up bed and Percy’s pants on the floor. The cracked open window lets in the calm sounds of the countryside, like the wind rustling the grass and the yells of his brothers who just heard what the twins walked into.

“They were doing WHAT?”

#percy weasley #Percy weasley x reader #art #harry potter #percy weasley fanart #theyre so freaky oh my god

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sciroccoorion35 · 30 days ago

Text

Lockwood POV

I've seen some discussion about whether you could write the L&Co books from Lockwood's pov and how difficult that would be with his book characterisation, but I think I've got it!

The Very Secret Diary of A.J. Lockwood

The Screaming Staircase from Lockwood's POV Rating: T WC: 543

Day 1: Well, it’s official! George and I have started our own agency right out of 35 Portland Row. Lockwood and Co. at your service. The paperwork was a chore, but we’ve done it. Now to begin building our reputation. I have plans for attracting a high paying clientele with interest in the kind of personalised, bespoke care only a small, independent agency can provide.

Day 16: Inspector Barnes himself came by today to inspect our headquarters. He also gave me some warnings about the way we took out the ghost over on Bagley Walk, but we got it to the furnaces in the end, so I don’t see that it’s any big deal. Looking forward to showing this Barnes what we can accomplish without the need for adult supervision.

Day 72: George left his ghost jar in the bath again. Seriously considering writing up an official company policy that covers this. Or possibly just a renter’s agreement.

Day 117: Hired a new assistant. His name's Robin. I think he's gonna be great. Wow, this is really starting to feel like a proper agency!

Day 123: Robin ran off a roof in a blind panic. Not a great start tbh. I will need to do a much better job checking the next assistant's fortitude. Maybe George can help me come up with something...

Day 175: New hire Miss Lucy Carlyle! I really think we've got a good one this time. She's asked me to call her Lucy and it feels weird somehow with her for some reason. But I'll be damned if I'm going to call George 'Mr. Cubbins' so I will have to get used to it.

Day 346: Lucy has burned down a house. Granted, the Type 2 inside really whipped it up into a conflagration, and yes, I did forget to bring the chains, but still, there’s no denying it was her Greek fire that was the initial spark explosion.

Day 349: 60,000 pounds!?!? Bloody Barnes. He’s doing this on purpose. He wants us out of business and out of his hair. I’ve put on a brave face in front of George and Lucy but I don’t know how we can possibly get through this.

Day 351: I have a plan. It’s a little risky, and I need to do as much preparation and snooping as I can manage to squeeze in, but if handled carefully, I think I can save the agency and even put us ahead of where we were before. If not, well, this might just be my last entry as A.J. Lockwood, head of Lockwood and Co.

Day 365: What a year it’s been! I forgot to update after the Combe Carey affair, but it was spectacular! I’ve got a bunch of press clippings I’ll stick in here for posterity, but the important thing is that the agency is right where it should be. Between me, George and especially Lucy, I really feel like there’s no case we can’t take on. Things are truly looking up!

Day 365, part 2: Lucy has just told me the most extraordinary thing. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t write it down just yet. Wouldn’t want anyone to think…anyways, please disregard. Looking forward to a fruitful year 2!

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #fanfic #lockwood and co fanfic #the screaming staircase #lockwood pov

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nkjemisin · 1 year ago

Note

What are your feelings on the Broken Earth trilogy covers? I really love your books and I enjoy talking about them with other people, but I feel like when we talk about the Broken Earth trilogy, we always circle back ro the covers and how we wish the covers were different/ it deserves better covers. I feel like it's a popular sentiment irl/online. I'm fond of the covers today, but I'll be honest it grew on me

Personally I love the covers. I'm probably weird in that I can't stand seeing depictions of a book's characters on the cover, because it somehow messes with my own mental image of them. (Fanart doesn't, tho. Maybe bc it's "unofficial"? I may never understand my own brain.) Orbit's tried to respect that by foregoing character-centric art, although I know a lot of people really really prefer that kind of cover art! I've tried to push aside my discomfort for the special editions, especially since Subterranean has really done a great job of finding artists whose work fits my odd tastes. I really love Miranda Meeks' depictions, for example! Wish she'd sell prints; I'd like some for the wall of my office.

Also, those covers have helped me get a lot of sales from outside the genre as well as within it. Not sure why, but it's been mentioned to me in conversations with the marketing folks. My off-the-cuff guess is that it works because people expect genre books to look a certain way? And mine don't. Anyway, sorry folks don't like them, but can't please everybody!

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dreamingcloudie · 1 year ago

Text

❛❛ You Did Well ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Type: Comfort Fluff(?)

Warning(s): human experimentation, not proofread

wc: ~1.4k

A request by one of the readers! It's been so long I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I've gotten off track with this one... but I hope you'll like this anyways! The first fic I've written in months. Enjoy! :)

After years of working like a maniac. Earning achievements after achievements. Rivaling all the other people that could only hope to get to where you were today. You finally landed yourself a job at the organization created by none other than the beloved Cryo archon herself—the Fatui. And it was not just any job positions. You got to become the assistant of one of the eleven harbingers—The Doctor, second of the Fatui Harbingers. A very impressive title indeed.

You’ve heard people there were ruthless. It didn’t help that being in such a high ranking yourself, newbie or not, there were high expectations that needed to be met. And whatever it was, you hoped you were ready.

Oh god, oh no. You panicked. It was the first day of work and you were almost late. You arrived in front of the office just in time as you panted. You tried to fix your disheveled hair to make you look like you did not just run all the way over here. To your dismay, someone opened the door before you could make yourself look presentable.

You gulped and looked up.

“Hello, sir,” you greeted, praying he didn’t hear the slight shakiness in your voice.

He was wearing a mask, but you could feel his gaze scanning you up and down.

“Hmph,” he then walked out before continuing, “You are the new assistant, aren’t you? Wait for me inside.”

He was already halfway down the hall when you scurried inside. You could feel your face burning in embarrassment.

Great. You thought. First day and I’m already making a fool of myself.

A few minutes later, he came back in, holding a stack of papers in his hand. He placed them down onto a tidied desk with a sign saying “(Y/n)” on it.

“Usually, I’d go straight into lab work with the assistants on their first day.” He spoke, leaning onto the desk. “But, I decided to try something new today. All of my previous assistants quitted in less than a week, due to them not being able to handle the pressure.”

He continued, “I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you start off with something easy by doing paperwork. If you did well, good for you. If not, I’ll fire you on the spot so you wouldn’t waste my time.”

As expected, The Doctor certainly has high demands. You glanced at the amount of paperwork that needed to be done on your desk. You’ve stayed up countless times to complete your thesis before, this was nothing you couldn’t handle. With this newfound confidence, you firmly nodded your head.

“Understood. I’ll get to them right away.”

From his stance, he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

“When you’re done with them, just leave them on my desk. If you have any questions, don’t bother asking me. Just solve them yourself,” he said, before entering the other section of the office that leads to the lab.

You took a seat at your desk and picked up a pen.

Well then, time to get some work done.

= = =

For the first week, work wasn’t so bad. Most of the time it was just tons and tons of paperwork. It got boring after a while, but at least you were able to get them done on time. Earning yourself a pleased hum from The Doctor each time you handed them in.

So far, so good.

“The paperwork for today is done, sir,” you said, placing the papers down onto his desk.

He nodded. “As efficient as always. I think you’re ready.”

You were puzzled by what he meant. You wanted to ask but didn’t want to bother him. So you just left, hoping whatever he was implying wasn’t anything bad.

= = =

The next day came and you were up and early, waiting for him at your desk. He entered the office not too long after, but something was different, he wasn’t holding a stack of paper like he normally was. Instead, it was a lab coat.

“Judging by your work these past few days, I’ve decided that you’re ready for something a little more… exciting.” He then threw the lab coat at you, for you to clumsily catch it.

“Follow me.” Was all he said before opening the doors to the lab. You quickly put your coat on before following closely behind.

The first thing you noticed was the pungent, iron-like scent, your nose picked up on in the air. It made your stomach twist and turn. The Doctor’s frame was taller than yours, blocking your view of the center of the room.

“This, as you may have already guessed by the interior, is the lab. And today, we’re going to do some testing with the new liquid I concocted on a volunteering subject.” He then moved away from your view. And what you saw in front of you made your skin crawl.

The Doctor put some gloves on and went over to the person, who was very much alive, strapped down to the operation table with multiple wounds apparent on his body.

“Come,” he simply said, gesturing you to go over to where he was standing.

You could feel your legs wobbling as you walked to him. Your steps were hesitant and your eyes were on the person with a gag in his mouth, muffling his pained pleas. You then felt something in your hand. You looked at what The Doctor gave to you—a syringe filled with some glowing liquid.

The Doctor took some disinfectant wipes and applied it onto the subject’s arm, preparing for an injection.

You could feel cold sweat forming on your palms. You knew experiments would get involved taking up this job. But you were not expecting to have a human test subject. One that was still living and breathing.

This… this isn’t right. Your mind screamed.

The Doctor took a step backwards, giving you some space.

“Go on. Let’s see how you’d do. I’ve read in your resume that you’ve handled syringes and injections before. So this should be a piece of cake for you,” he spoke, eagerly watching your every move.

Should I just call it quit? You asked yourself. Finding it difficult to choose in this dilemma of yours. It took you years of hard work to get here. Should you really quit just because you were simply uncomfortable?

Come on. I’m the assistant of one of the most powerful harbingers. It would be shameful of me to back down just because… You argued. You could feel your heartbeat pulsing violently throughout your body as you raised your hands. The tip of the syringe stopped just inches before the man’s arm.

You could feel it. The Doctor was getting impatient by the second. You could hear the sound of his shoe tapping against the concrete floor, “Well?”

This felt wrong, very wrong. But you had no choice, if you wished to keep this job of yours. You mouthed a “sorry” to the squirming man, before pushing the syrinige into his flesh, closing your eyes and injecting the unknown substance into his body.

“Bravo, took you long enough.” The Doctor said.

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it… hm?” He grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him. You were wondering why he did that until he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“It seems like you are in distress.”

You touched your cheek slightly and it felt wet.

Well, okay. This is embarrassing. Crying in front of a harbinger. He’s going to fire me now because I’m crying over such a small task.

“I take it this was your first time experimenting on a live human being?” He asked, in which you answered with a nod.

“I figured.”

“I-I apologize for my incompetence, sir! I’ll do better next time and—”

“I didn’t ask you to explain yourself. It was a yes-or-no question,” he said.

“I was expecting you to quit when I saw you trembling. But my, oh my. You did so well.” He carried on, “I must say, you did so much better than my previous assistants. Yes, what we’re doing might be considered morally grey in the eyes of others. But keep in mind, this is all done for a better understanding of science; and of course, to fulfill her majesty’s dreams, in the grand scheme of things.”

He then gave you a little pat on the head.

“So you needn’t regret what you’ve done. All you need to know is that you did a great job. And I must say… you might be my favourite assistant, so far.”

He wiped your tears.

“Do me a favor, and don’t dwell on what happened today, because there would be more of this to come. And soon, you’ll get used to this, understand?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Upon hearing your response, you could see a grin forming on his face.

“What a good little assistant you are.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin x yn #dottore x reader #dottore x y/n #dottore x you #genshin dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui #fatui harbingers #fatui harbinger #genshin impact dottore

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noforkingclue · 5 months ago

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That one Hobbit/LOTR anon, back again. If you're still up for it, can I have a dark!Thranduil x human reader? (I'm not sure it's mentioned in the movies, but just in case please AU him as unmarried or widowed.)

The reader trespassed in Mirkwood and was imprisoned by Thranduil. He doesn't believe her story so he keeps her locked up, or maybe just because he's petty. Thranduil has her brought out and questioned semi-regularly, it's possible he just bored. The details aren't super important.

Reader is pissed obviously, but treads the line and avoids being overtly disrespectful. She doesn't say much, but is passive-aggressive to a level that allows for plausible deniability. She doesn't seem cowed by him, doesn't kneel or bow, and never directly address him or use any honorifics.

Thranduil outwardly seems aloof and disinterested in all their interactions, acting like dealing with some common human was beneath him and an inconvenience. But, internally maybe he finds himself craving your subjugation and frustrated at your lack of proper deference.

Reader says something to the effects of "You may be a King, but you're not my King" and that makes him snap. That's the first time you see a break in his countenance and suddenly his hands are on you and he's right in your face. He's only ever had his guards escort you, he's never touched you before then.

Now, you're scared. Maybe he threatens you, maybe he makes you beg or prostrate yourself. There's a lot of options here.

In this prompt I don't know that he'd make it sexual immediately, I imagine he'd be in denial about being attracted so someone so much lower than himself. However, I'd leave it up to your discretion.

Thank you in advance!

So this is my first time writing another LotR/Hobbit related so I hope I've done a good job!

Also, I anyone wants any other fics from LotR/Hobbit please feel free to request them! I love both of these so I'm happy to write for them :D

Anyway, hope you like the fic :)

Title: Submission

Warnings: dark fic

You gasped as a strong hand curled around your neck and lifted you high off the ground. Thranduil was a lot stronger than he appeared. He easily lifted you into the air as the tip of your toes just brushed the ground. He brought you closer to him, your nose brushing against his.

“Would you care to repeat what you just said.”

His voice was calm and level but this close to him you could see the boiling rage in his eyes. You swallowed thickly and refused to answer. He tightened his grip slightly and you knew that it was going to leave bruises. That is, if you survived.

“I would advise you not to disobey my orders.”

“You may be a King,” you croaked out, “but you’re not my King.”

Thranduil sneered and dropped you harshly. You gasped at the sudden impact on the cold floor and he turned on his heel and marched back up towards his throne. Really it had been an honest mistake. You were a nomad and you had ventured into Mirkwood by mistake. As soon as you realised where you were you tried to leave but it was too late. You had swiftly taken prisoner and had been locked up ever since. You had lost track of the days you had been kept here and longed to be back on the road.

It wasn’t as though you had been kept in solitary confinement. You were regularly brought up for questioning by the Elven King. You had answered his questions as best as you could but he was beginning to test your limits. Today you finally lost it and, well, it hadn’t ended up well for you. You rubbed your neck, wincing when you accidentally pressed too hard against it.

Thranduil sat back down on his throne and looked down at you. He crossed one leg over the other and propped his chin up on his hand. You were a stubborn one and really he was beginning to think that you weren’t a spy. That you really were just a harmless traveller who stumbled in here by mistake. But he wanted to see you crumble. He wanted to see you on your knees, begging for mercy. This had been the first time he touched you and he curled his fingers, wanting the feeling of your soft flesh under his hands once again. He drummed his fingers of his other hand on the arm on his throne as he looked down at you.

Yes, you looked good like this.

On your knees and fear in your eyes.

“You are a traveller.” he said, his voice shattering the silence

“I,” you coughed, before continuing weakly, “I am.”

“Hmm.”

“I am glad that you are listening to me.”

You glanced up at Thranduil and the look on his face told you that you were on thin ice. For a human you were not unpleasant looking and your defiance was an interesting streak. He was too used to people doing immediately what he wanted. While that was nice, and expected, your stubbornness was a refreshing change of pace.

Now he wanted your submission.

“You would like,” he said eventually, “to be out of the cells.”

Your gaze sharpened but the fear remained. Thranduil wanted that to stay.

“That’s correct.” you said

He raised his head and looked down at you.

“Then maybe,” he said, “you can do something about that. For your King.”

Those last three words made your blood turn cold and you didn’t like the look on his face.

“Unless you’d rather go back to the cells,” his voice remained level, “but I can assure you that you'll have a far more comfortable time if you do as I say. And pleasant, if you behave.”

“And what do you want?” you asked weakly

“Come here,” he beckoned you towards him, spreading his legs, “and I’ll let you know what to do.”

You made to stand up but Thranduil held up a hand.

“On your knees,” he said, “where you belong.”

Crawling towards him was humiliating but maybe, just maybe, this was providing you with a way to escape. Little did you know that as you crawled towards him, Thranduil was already making plans. You might be a mere human but he was never going to let you go.

You were his.

#fanfiction #the hobbit #reader insert #request #thranduil #thranduil x reader #dark fic

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