Hiii Mai, can we do a role-play? You can play the domineering CEO. Your slender fingers slowly pull a stack of manuscripts from your pocket. Then, you part your lips and say to me: "Woman, you've successfully caught my attention. Here are the remaining two chapters of the Android Levi manuscript. Read them."
🤪
Here you go xoxo
Content: nonsensical CEO author x reader crackfic/snippet lmao
Wordcount: 1.8k
It's been two weeks. Two full weeks since the CEO of VeratranceBrainrot Corp has released the last chapter of the Android Levi manuscript. The entire office has been growing increasingly restless over the past few days, if the hushed whispers during coffee breaks and the worried glances thrown at the CEO's office are anything to go by.
But you doubt any of your colleagues are doing as terribly as you are. You've refreshed your mailbox approximately 864 times since the last chapter release, but to no avail. You're quite sure you'll need clinical intervention if something doesn't happen soon.
"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be released soon," one of the new interns whispers as she passes by, trying to soothe your worried frown with a sympathetic smile.
You manage to force a strained smile of your own. "Yes. You're right. I'm sure it will."
A complete lie. You're almost jealous of the newlings in the office. They have no idea that the CEO has a knack for releasing a chapter or two, just to then disappear into the abyss for several months, up to a year. She's fleeting and unreliable, giving everyone in the office attachment issues and major heart palpitations whenever she disappears into her office for a day or two. Yet, somehow, the company hasn't collapsed yet. A miracle, truly.
You nervously nibble on your lip as you stare at the thick file stacked on your desk. Today is your chance to speak to the CEO, and maybe, in the process, you can somehow figure out the status of the manuscript? It's a ballsy move, but you can't take it much longer. You have to do something.
With a sharp inhale, you get up, grab the file, and step towards the CEO's office. You swallow thickly, count to three, and knock.
A pause.
"Come in."
You open the door, finding the CEO sitting behind her large oak desk, rapidly typing on her laptop. Sunlight pours from wide floor-to-ceiling windows that cover the entire left side of the room, illuminating the grey office-carpet.
She spares you a short glance, before turning her attention back to her screen. "Is the annual report ready?"
"Yes. It's been reviewed and approved by all parties. Also, I organized the monthly meeting yesterday, in which the results were discussed, as you asked. I emailed you the summary, along with our proposed strategy moving forward."
Her dark eyes flick up to meet yours. "Good. You can put the report on my desk."
Forcing a neutral expression, you step towards her and carefully place the file next to several stacks of other files. You scan them with quick discretion, but can't find anything about the Android manuscript. Stifling your disappointment, you take a step back and prepare to leave the room, but you hesitate.
What if you just… ask her directly? It’s risky, but maybe you’ll get out unscathed? Though….
Her typing stops. She looks up. “Is there anything else?”
Your heart jumps. “No. That will be all. Thank you.” The words flop out before you can stop them.
Damn it. Why are you such a coward?
But it’s too late now. You turn and head to the door, disappointment weighing down your chest.
“Hold on.”
The CEO’s voice makes you freeze midway. With rising nerves, you turn to look at her.
Her gaze sweeps over you, and with a long sigh, she beckons you over with a lazy finger. “Come here.”
Hesitantly, you step closer. Only once you’re standing right in front of her desk, does she break the silence.
“Whatever’s on your mind, just spill it.”
Your stomach tingles with nerves. “Actually, ma’am, I was wondering about…” You swallow. “Well, um… the manuscript. The Android Levi manuscript.”
One brow lifts ever so slightly. “What about it?”
Her intense gaze sends your heart into a gallop. You don’t think you can do this. Backtracking, you shake your head. “Actually, in hindsight, it’s not that important. I will just—”
Your wordsoup is interrupted by a long sigh. Loosening her tie, the CEO gets up and rounds the desk, wearing a black two-piece suit that makes her look as attractive and intimidating as ever. Your heart races as she shrinks the space between you two. She’s a head taller, looking down at you with something that looks more like dark amusement than annoyance. With her hands in the pockets of her trousers, she tilts her head, scrutinizing you.
“What do you want?” she asks.
You hesitate. “The manuscript. I, um… was just wondering if…”
“That’s not an answer to my question. What do you want? You’re wasting your potential if you never even dare to voice your wants and needs.”
Your pulse thrums frantically. It takes everything to force out the words: “I would really like to read the next chapter of the Android Levi fic. I was wondering—” you nervously clear your throat, “—when it’ll be ready.”
“Hmm.” The corners of her lips lift into an almost-smile. “Much better, but not quite.”
You blink. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
She takes a step forward, until she’s so close you fear she might hear your rapid heartbeats. “What you want, is for me to release the next chapter by yesterday, and finish the whole manuscript as soon as humanly possible.”
“T—That’s not—”
She cocks a brow, daring you to continue your lie.
Embarrassment scorches your face. Unable to meet her gaze, you look away.
Your breath hitches when her index finger catches your chin, forcing you to meet her dark eyes. She looks down at you, taking in your vulnerable expression with calm intrigue, and something more intense you can’t quite place. Slowly, she leans closer until her lips ghost over your ear.
“Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider it,” she whispers.
You gasp, but before you can properly process what she said, she straightens again and releases your chin. Without breaking eye-contact, she reaches behind you to grab the report you placed on her desk, almost grazing your hip. She does a last once-over, her eyes flicking up and down your body, before returning to her desk with the file.
“Don’t disappoint me.”
It’s the last thing she says before she turns her attention back to her work. A clear dismissal.
With a nod, you turn around and leave the room, heart thumping and stomach fluttering.
……………………..
The following days, you give your everything. You finish lengthy reports at record speed, and do so much overtime that you end up severely sleep deprived.
It must be that sleep deprivation that prompts you to make the most reckless, nonsensical decision you've ever made.
It’s almost eight o’clock. Everyone has long left the office to go home, leaving a near-empty floor. Light spills from the CEO’s office, but you know she isn’t there. She’s in a big conference room on the other side of the floor, holding a meeting with several directors and senior managers.
Your entire body tingles with nerves. Inhaling one last sharp breath, you grab two reports you’ve managed to finish in record time, and step towards the CEO’s private office. You take one last glance behind you, before slipping into the room. You quickly hurry towards her desk, where dozens of thick files are stacked, ordered and chaotic all at once. Flicking through them, you scan the titles: Felines and Canidae, Desperation, Until We Are One, a cottagecore WIP, a pirate WIP that hasn’t been touched in ages, and more. But the fic you’re looking for is nowhere to be found.
Damn it. Where the hell is that damn Android manuscript? You take another stack and quickly flick through it, adrenaline giving way to desperation.
Someone clears their throat.
You whip around, heart lurching. The CEO stands there, only a few steps away, her eyes narrowed.
Fuck.
“Going through my files, huh?” she says, her voice icy.
You want to say something, but nothing comes out. Your mind is only filled with screeching panic and deep shame.
She steps closer. You take a step back, heart racing, but you bump into the desk behind you. There’s nothing you can do as she closes the distance. Nowhere you can flee. She leans down and places both hands on the desk at either side of your hips, caging you in between her arms and leveling her eyes with yours.
Her voice drops into a dangerous murmur. “I will admit I’m surprised. I didn’t think you were that desperate.”
“I— I just…”
“You what?”
Your heart threatens to give out. You’re screwed. And fired. In the most humiliating way possible. This was such a big mistake. You’ll never recover from this.
The CEO’s eyes fall on the reports clutched in your hand. The barest of smiles catches her mouth, vicious and mocking. “You really thought you could sneak into my office under the pretense you’ve got some reports ready?”
Your pulse thrums erratically. She’s standing dangerously close and your brain is short-circuiting. There’s no way out of this situation. Lying is completely useless at this point.
She exhales a long sigh, tilting her head as she regards you. “What am I going to do with you?”
You shift uncomfortably, struggling to hold her domineering gaze. “…Will this get me fired?”
“If you were anyone else, yes. But no. I like some entertainment in my office.”
“…. Entertainment?”
“Mhm. It’s quite enjoyable, watching you squirm and seek my approval so desperately. A bit of light-hearted entertainment between all my tedious meetings.” She doesn’t smile, but the amusement flickering in her dark eyes makes you feel like you’re nothing but a playtoy to her. “Besides, I will admit I’m impressed by your performance. I’m willing to overlook your little slip-up, but only on the condition that it never happens again. If I catch you sneaking into my office one more time, you’re done for. Understood?”
“Y—Yes. It will never happen again. I promise. I crossed the line, and I’m really sorry.”
The corners of her mouth slowly lift into a ruthless smile, as if she enjoys watching you shaking like a leaf under her weighted gaze.
“Good.” She straightens, uncaging you without stepping back. Holding your eyes, she slowly slips a folded note from her pocket and holds it between two slender fingers.
“What’s that?”
“What do you think? You've successfully caught my attention, woman. Here are the next two chapters of the Android Levi manuscript. Read them."
You gasp. “You’ve finished the manuscript?”
A dark smile flits across her face. “That’s not what I said. You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Now take it, and get out of my office.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With an unsteady pulse, you grab the note and hurry out the door.
You unfold the note with shaking hands.
————————————————————————————
Android Levi fic:
- Chapter 3: Link
- Chapter 4: SIKE. No link yet, but will be posted tomorrow in 2 days tho lol
- Chapter 5: coming soon
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Me: Fem!Y/n, you are amazing! Male!Y/n, you are the absolute best, never stop making me smile! GN!Y/n, thank you for being the first reader I introduced in my writing - I love you so much smh. Powerful!Y/n, even with your 999 powers and quirks, we still love ya! Depressed!Y/n, don't listen to em' haters. You're welcome round my house any day! Wattpad!Y/n, you best be singing at my Christmas party tomorrow! Make sure you belt Fight Song at the top of your lungs! Trans!Y/n, remind me to take you shopping next week, you deserve to feel comfortable in your new skin! POC!Y/n, bring that quality food and culture to light! (Please bestieee)
Me: Whatever kind of reader you are, take care of yourself and have yourself a merry little Christmas.
The shitty little dive bar you frequented most nights after work was not its usual quiet and calm, with whatever sportsball game splattered across its ancient televisions occupying its regulars who sat, nursing beers, as if in a stunned haze.
Tonight, the tiny parking lot was crammed with motorcycles and old, rusted-out pick-up trucks. A type if you’d ever seen one, comprised of good ole’ boys with shirts pulled tight over a heaving beer gut and bearded bikers with stressed leather jackets and too many patches.
As you expected, good ole’ boys and bikers were exactly what you found as you stepped in through the creaking door, into a fog of cigarette smoke and raucous noise.
At least your spot at the bar was clear. You inched your way through the crowd and claimed it with a heavy sigh and a cough from the overwhelming smoke. You signaled the bartender for your usual, and waited for him to finish the half-dozen others.
“Mind if I join you?” A man planted himself on the empty stool to your right, slapping a leather-bound journal to the weathered wood.
You nodded absentminded assent, intending to go on staring at the blurry screen above the racks of alcohol, but your attention dragged toward him like a magnet to true north. The first thing you noticed was that he was ruggedly handsome, lean but muscular and smelling of pine and, strangely enough, ink. His hair was cropped short and spiked like a Mohawk, and his dark— almost black— eyes were fixed on you with an almost unsettling intensity.
“I’m Arthur.” That’s what you heard, anyway. “And you?”
You pondered this for a moment, but ultimately came up blank. “You want my name?”
He lowered his voice, leaned in close like they were partners in a crime. “Don’t you know your own name?”
It occurred to you that you should be alarmed– what was your name?-- but something about this stranger made it seem trivial. It didn’t really matter at all, did it?
Still, you hesitated before answering. “I guess not.”
“No matter.” Arthur signaled the bartender, who had yet to bring over your drink, and flipped his notebook open. Producing a pen from nowhere, he scribbled down a few words in a script you couldn’t understand. “Buy you a drink?”
“Um-” before you could respond, the bartender clunked two foaming mugs of Bud Light to the bar, offering a gruff nod to Arthur before returning to his work. “Sure,” you managed, reaching for the mug and taking a deep swig. Bitter, yeasty amber burned your throat. Not your favorite, but tolerable. The clamor of the bar seemed to sway, rising and falling around you like the tide.
You blinked. Arthur watched you do this, one hand bracing his chin and his dark eyes glittering like you were the most interesting thing in the world. “Is there-” you hiccuped- “something in this drink?”
“I don’t know.” Arthur returned to his journal. Wrote something down. You blinked again, dizziness and haze overtaking your senses. “Is there?”
“I think-” You felt your head dip to the bar. The cool wood was soothing. “I think-”
“I think there is.” Arthur finished, a smile to his voice.
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Hi there, are the ship asks still open? I'm an artist and editor, shy with new people, but word vomit about anything with my friends. Overly conscious about everything I do, and I love bad puns. And the group is the Ipliers. Thank you, hope you have a lovely day!! 🌙 (she/her)
Immediately the first person that came to mind was Author. I have H/C's that say whatever he writes comes to life. And what better way to make his writing really come to life than with an artist. He loves your skills and your 'word vomit', it makes him happy when you tell him one of your many stories. He's an Author after all, and you are his inspiration.
Now, I don't know what kind of art you do or the medium you use, so I'll try to leave it broad for ya;
Small brush strokes stared back at you, mocking you. You were at a hump on this piece, you didn't know where to go or how to finish it. It was a simple piece, featuring a black-haired woman with deep brown eyes. She was elegant and fierce in her pose, daring someone to interrupt her focus. Yet, you did not know how you were to complete her, or the background for that matter.
So, you did the only thing you could think of. You went to see Author. Whom was in the kitchen, writing away in his journal. His quill moved quickly over the page, but it came to a stop when you came into his view. Upon seeing your expression, he returned a soft frown, "What's wrong, muffin?"
Your nose scrunched at the nickname, but this wasn't the time to bicker about it. Something you had done many times before, yet it only made him call you 'muffin' more. He had mentioned once before that he calls you his muffin because he 'loves to eat muffins for breakfast'.
"I'm stuck on a piece that I'm doing, I have no idea how to complete it. The background's not even done." you sighed, taking a seat at the table. Author seemed to ponder this thought as he got up and went to make himself a cup of coffee.
"Have you asked?" Author finally answered you with a question. His light brown eyes staring into his cup before taking a sip.
"Who am I gonna ask, Author? The girl in my picture?" You scoffed at his silly question.
"Yes," Author said simply, smiling innocently at you. "Just go ask her and see what happens! Maybe it'll inspire you to finish the piece... I like to ask my characters questions about the story their in, it makes it easier to write them."
"Yeah, yeah..." you muttered, getting up from the kitchen once you realized Author was not going to be of help to you.
Staring at the picture was going to drive you insane, you swore it. The colors just weren't blending properly and neither were the textures. Everything looked bland and smudged together, there was no depth, no contrast. Until finally, "Fine! You win! Tell me, girl! Tell me what your favorite colors are."
You waited and waited for something to come to you, but nothing happened. So you tossed down your supplies and crossed your arms. Only for movement to catch your attention.
Movement from the girl in the picture.
"Golds, I would have to say. Maybe some whites? I like deep purple colors too."
You gasped, standing up so fast that you knocked your chair over. Maybe you had gone insane, you rubbed your eyes and even pinched yourself. And still the girl was staring at you, instead of looking off to the side like she had been since you first started creating her.
"I'm going mental..." you trailed off, though you weren't so sure why you were surprised. You had seen a lot of crazy things since the beginning of your relationship with Author. It was probably due to the fact that his stories came to life, but you were... Human, mundane, you had no special abilities. Everything you knew, you worked hard for. Hours poured over art books and learning different methods of bringing your art to life in many ways, but never like this.
"What? You asked a question, didn't you?" the girl spoke again. This time, you picked your chair up and sat back down feeling as though you might fall down.
"Author! Come here!" you shouted and turned your attention back to the girl. Unbeknownst to you, Author was in the hallway watching the whole ordeal. A few sentences written with a magic quill really went a long way.
Grabbing a pen and paper, you began to ask the girl more questions. What she liked? Was she real? Did she have any qualms about the way she had been created? Does she have a name?
"I like birds, rainy weather, you know, the normal. I really like the sky. I almost wish I had wings."
"I am as real as you'll make me, you're my creator. The visionary master, you have to make me seem real."
"I love how you created me. I have curves in all the right places, I love my curly hair and the shape of my face. You've done a wonderful job so far."
"You'll name me, won't you? I don't want to be nameless, if that's what you're asking."
"Right, what is it?" Author questioned as he stepped into your art room.
"She's talking to me." you whispered as you turned to face him from your chair. You pointed at the girl, but when you turned back around, she was back in her pose. Her normal one, looking off in the distance somewhere.
"You're finally getting it. All you have to do is ask yourself the right questions." Author smiled at you, his quill still in hand.
Your eyes went straight to the upright feather, "Did-? Did you do that?"
"Do what?" Author winked at you and promptly walked out of the room, "Get back to work, muffin."
Newly inspired, you picked up where you left off. You couldn't help but smile as you continued splashing color over the girl. Giving her big angel wings so she could fly like the birds she liked so much. With the background in mind, you created a sky for her to fly in. Specifically a purple, orange, and gold sunset to contrast her skin. She truly came to life then, and if you paid just enough attention you could see her lips tilt into a small smile. She was happy and so were you.
It really was the little things that made you fall for him all over again.
#a/n: CRINGE CRINGE, fuck ew no. why 😭. this is so embarrassin’ good lord. i hope it's up to par, and doesn't totally suck ass.
warnings. cringe, drabble, skirts, sir k., exhibitionism, sweaty sex, sex in a locker room, creampie, implied breeding, implied gangbang, reader in a cheerleading outfit.
MINORS DON'T INTERACT !
all you were able to make out was the intense pumping of his heart, with your face pressed into his chest— his aroused gasps for air lifted you slightly with every inhale. beads of sweat swirling around the humidity of your bodies.
you had always sworn off making bets with your boyfriend, kevin, he was a schemer and an unfair one at that. he always showered you with the perfect word choices, swaying your answer to obey his questions; victory or not.
this bet was far out of anything he had suggested before, you had never done anything seriously scandalous outside of the bedroom-- much less in such a crowed space like this? you weren't sure you'd be able to handle what he proposed, much less win the bet as is.
he already knew you had lost, the moment your lips met his to seal the deal; the glint in his eyes erupted, telling you the full story. that you had just signed your death warrent.
so as the scoreboard’s timer struck 0:00 and the parade of people in the bleachers rose up in celebration, your eyes locked with his glowing blue ones. signalling your defeat. he had taken home the win by a landslide, nothing less from the talented receiver. but that now meant, you, cheerleading attire and all; had to surrender your body to him for the night.
and god was it a night. the way you sobbed his name as you choked on his cock was almost as satisfactory as when the announcers would scream out his after a game winning play.
it was enchanting, hypnotic even.
“f’me y/n, if i knew you were this eager to swallow my cock like this- i wouldn't have made the bet.” nibbling softly at the hem of your ear, kevin couldn't help but attach a few fingers around your hips for stability. you're so incredibly wobbly it's insane, he's hardly spread you over the majority of his length and you're squirming with lust.
he has to take advantage of this, and quick. you sit up a little taller on his lap, finally getting a good, long gaze at his lewd, dirty expression. the groans that pour out of him are raw— deep and rumbly like they came straight from the depths of his chest.
“m’ all yours kev, sir! always, a stupid bet isn't going to change that! my body is always yours for the—”
the pace of his thursts and his stature change drastically before you're even able to finish your thought. he's got his cockhead angled so precisely into your prostate that you're already slobbering all over yourself in bliss. he's far too big for you to take in fully, but you've made it about an inch away from the base. that doesn't stop him, infact the dark haired jock only shoves his dick further inside, forcing your tummy to bloat around the fat object.
pre-cum had been dribbling off your tip from the beginning, but now it had only worsened-- the slit now oozing your seed with only a few bucks of his strategically placed hips. he was breaking your mind in two, stretching you fully out around his shaft with the sharp rhythm he kept.
“god.. yer’ s’good doll, s’good, let me feel you clamp down on my cock. go on, push yer’self, ride your high out while you cum around my length!”
he babbles and babbles through his teeth that have his jersey pulled between them, puffs of air seeping through the material. he encourages you to bounce on his lap faster, matching your movements to attempt to enchance the stimulation you're already experiencing.
the body heat radiating between you two prompts your bare ass to slip down his flexed thighs; he simply lifts you back up into your original position, spreading your legs even further so he can reach the deepest parts of your core. he wants his cock to explore every inch of your body, he needs to be deeper, even though he had already been fucking you down to his balls. he needed you to suck him in more, to keep sucking his thick dick back in everytime it retaliated.
at this point your skirt had already been soaked and wrecked with sweat and semen. the fabric ruffling up everytime your ass jiggled against it. you feel your body getting close and apparently so can he, his teeth sink into your neck like an apple. his sinful tongue rolling over every inch of flesh he had yet to mark with his kisses.
the uncomfortable sensation his football pads left on your exposed chest was enough to disrupt your pleasure. but it didn't matter, you were only a stupid fleshlight for him to fuck when desired. and the displeasure doesn't prevent your slutty, sex noises from flooding the tiled, locker room walls.
screwing your eyes shut, but not for too long— as you peer up at him, your insides finally begin to flutter around his shaft; those bruised walls clenching onto him fully. your body is shaking and convulsing under you as he sloppily fucks his load as far as it can go. little grunts phasing past his lips with every stroke he takes into your ass— your vision is clouded by gleaming eyes, and milky white skin. the fat tears on your cheeks blurring everything in your peripherals into an image of euphoria.
the last thing your brain can coherently look back on is his broad hands lacing through your hair, petting you as a way of rewarding your performance. his cum merely began to gush from your exhausted hole-- his thumbs rubbing around the filthy area as he implied you spread yourself after he had pulled out, he needed to see what damage he'd done to your poor, aching body. his sickly, vile yet sweet tone dripping with mischief.
“ah'ah, don't pass out on me yet baby.. the team needs a lil’ reward after the game too, dont’cha think?”
