#Open Theme / All Media

[wasabikitcat]

community college is so funny because half of the teachers are like "For this class you need to use lockdown browser for all quizzes and tests. You need to buy this 70 dollar textbook, and all papers turned in must be in APA format with a title page even if they're only 500 words long. I will not accept late assignments. Also you have a minimum of 4 assignments a week." and the other half are like "you don't need proctoring for the final exam I trust you. here's a download link to a pirated copy of the textbook. as long as your writing is coherent and demonstrates an understanding of the material I literally could not care less what format you use. I can't figure out how canvas works so I'm not giving you due dates, just make sure it's turned in before the grading period ends. your only weekly assignment is a forum post with a minimum of 100 words."

[vexx-the-egg]

Whenever a fandom is like "I've seen straight women act X around eachother therefore this ship is impossible and not gay" I roll my big gay Bisexual eyes like a hamster wheel.

[mejomonster]

Oh also when I start dropping the Red White and Royal Blue book quotes expect a FLOOD I'm highlighting the fuck out of this book

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"yuri lowell is a manly heterosexual"

yuri lowell:

[orcelito]

I have also realized that I need a partner that has two things: likes spending time out in nature, and likes watching anime (or at least doesn't mind it)

If they're unable to properly engage with me with those things, it just ain't gonna work

[elytrafemme]

(kinda gets 18+ in tags srry. i never know how/where to talk abt it) and honestly it's never like i can pull up and talk about like, emotional abuse either. or like atmospheric triggers and shit. because talking about any of that is hard. but it's specifically fucking impossible to ever talk about sexual trauma to anybody ever, which is fucked because like... i'm trying and i'm doing good at it, i'm proud of myself, but it's so like. idk. when something dominates your entire life for an incredible critical five years of your life and entirely transforms how you approach anything it's like... i don't actually know how to express any of this at all. and i guess it's sometimes hard for people to get it. i dunno.

[derinwrites]

The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

[mint-fixates]

There's this weird take I've seen floating around on TikTok that Bill doesn't actually care about his family/dimension or Stanford at all; that we're supposed to take everything in TBOB as non-canon basically because he's lying to garner sympathy from reader to make a deal with them. I'm all for having your own interpretations of media, but I just don't think this idea that Bill is a completely heartless unfeeling creature is supported by canon at all. In fact, it kind of feels like the opposite of the point of the book.

Like, yeah, most things Bill says should be taken with a grain of salt because he lies a lot, but he's not actually a very good liar? It's usually pretty easy to clock when he's full of it. But okay, even if we assume every word Bill says while trying to recruit the reader is a lie, there are three major things that this doesn't account for.

Bill is not the only source in the book. The lost Journal 3 pages were written by Stanford, we only know about the interdimensional Taco Bell incident because of an included police transcript, etc.

Even once he's lost any chance of making a deal with the reader to escape, Bill is having a complete breakdown and mentions all the people he so totally doesn't miss for real you guys. Why bother with reverse psychology double-lying for sympathy once his shot at getting the reader on his side is already gone?

Trying to garner the reader's sympathy makes sense to a certain extent, but why go out of his way to make himself look pathetic? Does revealing that he got drunk and cried over his ex in a fast-food drive-through really help his cause if that cause is to convince the reader he's still a powerful being capable of starting the apocalypse again so they can rule with him?

And that's all without even mentioning that, as previously stated, I think the entire point of the book is missed if we're interpreting Bill as having no genuine feelings or attachments. The book ends with Stanford healing from his past by being open about what he went through with his family and accepting their help, while Bill insists he doesn't need anyone and refuses to heal, actively making himself worse in the process. The clear theme imo is that accepting your past and accepting help from people who love you is essential to healing, while denying those things just makes everything worse. If Bill doesn't actually care about his family, his dimension, Stanford, or anything/anyone else, he has no trauma to heal from or regrets to learn from that he's refusing to accept and deal with, and the entire meaning of the book is made moot.

[bambiesfics]

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗘𝗹𝘀’ 𝗖𝗼𝗰𝗸 — Ellie x Bimbo!reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie’s butch, wears a strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc. Reader’s a bimbo. Just a filthy, filthy description of how you have to cockwarm your butch girlfriend, Ellie. Slight aftercare at the end too for you, considering how much she just stretched your tiny hole.

𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. This heartfelt post may give you a sense of Ellie’s headspace. And this

!!! [ Please help Palestine ] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

You were restless and lonely. Ellie had spent the better part of the afternoon preoccupied with the LED modules shuffled in her laptop, attempting to receive her ServSafe certificate. The online test had been eating up all her time, and Ellie sometimes chastised you for being overly needy n’ pouty when she had her hands full with things to do. So you tried to not add to her plate by pressing for attention, or conversation today. No matter how much you wanted to chit-chat with her. You wanted to be good more than anything.

No one saw you and Ellie as a compatible match, if it wasn’t already made visually obvious, it was definitely made obvious the second you popped your pink lips open to speak, while the brunette butch brooded behind you. This was a chance to shush all those insecurities that crept over you and told you that Ellie could be with a smarter, more capable, more self-reliant girl. You wanted to be a good fit for her. So you distracted yourself by jumping through social media apps, flipping through old cosmo magazines, and touching up the corner of your acrylic toe set with some white polish you kept carefully placed in her desk. But none of that worked. You were bored with everything you’d tried. Worse, your girlfriend had been looking so handsome in her loose plaid button up and dad jeans, as she slumped in her kitchen stool. It was getting so hard to remain detached and unaffected by the pristine silence in the house when you would pass by to check up on her.

Every so often Ellie’s pretty face would cutely scrunch up whenever she was puzzled by a question, which made for very testing times. But not as testing as when Ellie did that thing where she yanked at and ruffled her scruffy wolf cut, when she was in deep concentration. It was the cutest little boyish tic. You had nearly broken your own resolve to go run to her arms and litter her cheeks in glossy kisses. Which all made it so hard to have her near, as handsome as she was, and have her not even look up at you once. Not even allowed to step in her embrace, held by her toned arms, her sweet cologne and that woodsy scented jacket.

You were moping, and that moping turned into whining, and whining turned into annoyed flashes from Ellie’s eyes every time you got too squeaky. Those flashes turned into scowls, and that led to Ellie groaning at you.

“Can I help you with something?”

Ellie’s face was unamused, and it made you straighten your spine.

“N-no.”

“Great. Thanks.” She replied, her voice was just dripping in sarcasm. But that little flash of attention you had received filled your tummy with happy butterflies, until it went right back to her laptop.

You felt a twinge in your chest at how quickly she tuned you out. Did she not wanna talk to you at all? Ask about your day? Wanna know about the influencer gossip you found online? None of it?

“Meanie” you pouted while nudging your chin into your palm and clacking your acrylics on the granite. She didn’t have to say it so mean, she was usually sweeter n’ sillier. But today Ellie was a big meanie.

Ellie huffed and held back a massive eye roll. She stuck her head deeper into her laptop, she had to pretend you weren’t there. This test was important to her. You were too, but this seriously mattered more. Ellie needed more money. She needed to find a better apartment to rent, she needed to be able to support you the way she wanted too, and she needed a position with better hours so she could visit Joel's grave more regularly. You knew all that, so Ellie knew your whining wasn’t from ignorance, it was from childishness. She hated indulging you when you were childish. It was bad manners.

But she also knew if this went on long enough you might start silently crying in your pillow because you felt like your girlfriend hated you. You were clearly feeling neglected by Ellie, and coupled with her little sarcastic quip just a moment ago, Ellie wouldn’t put it past you to start sniffling within the next few hours. You were so pathetic. Ellie often joked that if you weren’t human you would’ve been the little runt abandoned by your pack for being so weak and whiny. And Ellie would’ve been a large reptile; a komodo dragon, who felt bad enough that instead of eating your tiny ass she would’ve raised you. Ellie had a weird little obsession with pliocene history, and because you were dumb, with a brain full of makeup and miniskirts, it went over your head 99% of the time. But Ellie knew you well, and she knew that more than outright being ignored, you hated the feeling that you made Els upset with you. It was your little runt nature, to always seek the validation of the large cold-blooded reptile in charge of your care that could still decide to eat you if you pissed her off enough. This relationship was almost ironically engineered.

Ellie understood you way too well.

Ellie tugged at her hair, because GOD you were such a piece of work. An adorable one, but still, a piece of fucking work!

“Okay.” Ellie breathed out. She ran her palms down her jeans, and spread her thighs farther apart. When Ellie manspread like that, you knew what it meant. But you still wanted her to say it. “Come here baby, come take a seat on me.”

“You sure?” you said hesitantly. Your gaze nervously flickered between her lap and floor.

“Need my baby girl right here,” Ellie said. She cocked her eyebrow and grabbed her bulge tightly. Enticing you.

Your eyes flew open. Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a gaping fish. You wanted Ellie’s attention, maybe to perch on her lap while she worked, but that movement meant something else entirely.

Ellie continued on, enjoying the surprise on your face a little too much. “Since you can’t sit still, come sit on this.” Ellie pulled her zipper down slowly, and shoved her fist in the opening; to fish out her hard cock out of her boxers, and rest it on her thigh. You gulped.

Your eyes fluttered between looking at Ellie's long shaft, and at her face. You could tell from her expression that she wasn’t bluffing. She looked very amused, and very curious as to what you’d do next. “W-what about your test?” You quipped. She lifted the base of her cock, “don’t worry about that, just come take a quick seat on this until you feel better.” You went to her lap, and nervously kept looking back at the cock she expected you to sink onto as you backed up on Ellie’s thighs. Ellie whispered “Why are you nervous princess? You’ve taken this before.”

Which made your hole flutter from the teasing smugness in her voice.

You had taken Ellie’s cock before. But after some prep, after lots of kisses from her, and after your slick was coating your engorged pussy lips from intense arousal. Not by just sitting on it while she was busy attacking a server’s exam.

Your eyes were glossy, Ellie found them so sparkly. You bunched your babydoll camisole higher up your tummy, and spread your ass cheeks. It was a good thing you loved prancing around Ellie’s apartment with no panties, it made spontaneous poundings so much easier. You lined up your hole with Ellie’s cockhead. “Good, now just sink down.” She fisted the base of her dick towards your vagina to help you. You slowly sunk onto her cock, taking it inch by inch. “Nhng, Ellie! feels too big, too big!” You clamped up as another inch forcefully popped through that tight little entrance. Ellie shushed you softly, rubbing circles in your back as she fed you her cock, until she was buried only a few inches deep. You couldn’t take her all the way down, and somehow you were so full. It felt like Ellie’s cock was pressing deep into your tummy. You had to hold back from whining to her about how her cock was definitely in your stomach, probably poking around in there. She’d shushed you for that silly idea once before and teased you for being so airheaded. Not like Ellie had expected you to have any better than a ditzy girl's understanding of anatomy anyway.

But as you felt her cock stretch you open, it was starting to feel like that again, like her cock was in your womb. It felt like Ellie was taking up all the space inside of you. She stretched your plump walls around her like you were her fleshlight. A fleshlight that was stretched to mold around every vein and ridge in Ellie’s cock.

You flexed your ass cheeks, and clamped your cunt around her cock, you tested for how much give you had to bounce up and down. But you gave up almost as soon as you tried lifting off the first time. The base of her cock was just too thick. Ellie felt stuck inside you. Like a wedding band wrapped around a chubby finger. You whimpered at the way her cockhead bumped all those squishy places inside your cunt. Ellie reassured you “Shhh don’t worry about bouncing baby, I’m nearly splitting you open. Just stay right here and get used to this angle.” Ellie turned her gaze back towards her laptop, and picked up from the last module she left off at.

Meanwhile your lower lip was trembling because your girlfriend's cock was resting inside your vagina, it was poking your cervix and rubbing along your walls in ways that made your tummy feel funny. The soreness was starting to subside but the fullness didn’t, and you wanted to move around a little bit. “E-Ellie i-it’s hard to move. No room,” you pouted over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to move, baby. You’re in timeout. Just sit and get my cock nice n’ warm.” Ellie turned her gaze back to her laptop as her other fingers drew slow circles in your lower back. It was such a brazenly lazy attempt at support, but Ellie’s main goal was to distract you — not make you feel pampered.

But you’d get that after anyway.

You tried grinding her cock in you, just to put the pressure of her cockhead in other places and not directly kissing the roof of your cunt. Ellie’s eyes flickered to where you two were connected and she thumbed the sensitive skin there. Which made you pull off slightly, you mewled at the sensitization you felt from her ministrations. Your hole was throbbing everywhere.

Ellie moaned at the sight, “you’re stretched so thin here, how did I fit inside you?”

You kept up with your poor attempts to grind n’ gyrate, so Ellie’s gaze traveled up towards your hips. She palmed your squishy ass; then skirted her fingers over your asshole. Ellie sunk her thumb into your asshole, just stopping at the first knuckle where her metal ring rested and whispered in your back. “I told you to stay baby.”

“Ellie no! Don’t touch over there!” You cried from embarrassment, you got so hot when she did that.

She smiled into your back “Why you shy cause I’m thumbing you right here? After your tiny cunt just swallowed my entire length? Please” Ellie smiled into your back.

Ellie’s attention kept jumping between completing her modules and questions and groping some sensitive part of your body. She’d mutter “You’re so tiny, wish you could see how much you’re stretched around me, plugged you up good.” Just to watch the hairs on your nape rise and watch how your hole contracted around her length from her words. Ellie rolled her narrow hips in circular motions, letting you get some little relief from the fat cock bullying your hole, by giving you some friction. The friction felt amazing on her clit too, rubbing along the puffy nub in a way that made heat pool in her belly.

Soon enough Ellie was biting back her own horny grunts, pressure building in her own cunt from the press of the harness. She kept up a slow circular grind to make her little baby feel good, and not feel so stretched out. But Ellie really considered chasing a silent orgasm for herself, it felt delicious to be in you.

You were dizzy with sensations, cock bumping your spongy g-spot just right. Your neglected clit was angry and red, but you were drunk on Ellie’s grinding. You were slurring all whiny “love your fat cock s’much Ellie. S’much ahh, love your coo-ock ahnnng.” Ellie’s hands came up to grope and squeeze your fatty tits. Because FUCK YOU for nearly making her bust after saying that. She kept grinding until your sloppy hole was doing butterflies on her cock. Slick dripping past the seal where you were wrapped around her shaft. Your hole was squeezing and releasing, over and over again as your orgasm tipped you over the edge and your toes turned pointed straight. The bottom of your fingers and palms had turned pink and red from how tight your fist was.

Ellie slowed down the grinding, she was happy enough you got your orgasm. The grinding felt nice on her clit, but she was more grateful at the fact that you might get sleepy and tap out. And she’d actually get some work done for once.

Ellie pulled you off her cock, and onto her lap. She smoothed a hand down your back as you winced when she pulled out. Your cum dribbled out of your weeping little pussy, globs of stringy cum seeped into Ellie’s pants after being plugged up by her cock. It was a mess you frequently made on Ellie after sex. It was evidence of a job well done; and a satiated princess.

You sniffled as you turned in Ellie’s embrace. “You sleepy?” Ellie asked

“Mhmmm” you moaned in her shoulder.

“I got you, you little princess. C’mon hold onto my shirt” Ellie guided your trembling hand to the collar of her button up and shushed you with sweet words about how “well you took her.” Ellie rocked you softly as she went back to her test, by the time you’d knocked out she’d completed a good chunk of her modules. She rocked you until your sniffles had quieted and you were fast asleep on her lap. She tucked her cock haphazardly into her boxers. You could sink onto it again after you woke up from your short nap.

Ellie spanked your ass, and felt the recoil jiggle against her palm. She shushed you again as you stirred from the assault. She whispered “I deserve a little treat after dealing with this bratty ass all day. I’m joking… I got you baby.”

After 45 minutes of not a single distraction to pull her attention away, Ellie completed her test. A solid 93%, way above a passing grade. Good enough to get her ServSafe certificate, and definitely good enough to start serving at her restaurant, and get better pay and better tips.

Ellie kissed the top of your head,

“Did it, peach.”

“Did’itttt wedidi...” You slurred into her chest. She smelled like sweet cologne. Your dreams were so happy.

She smiled into your hair.

Mhm yeah. We both did it.

[felixandresims]

KICHEN 2Point0 Part 2

The 43-piece second half of the KICHEN 2Point0 focuses on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.

Of course, it's also time for another trip down memory lane to revisit the original Kichen & how it links back to this current iteration. All the items apart from the wishboner chair have been completely new ideas and meshes, however we wanted to try and capture some of our favourite elements from the original and reimagine them in our current styles. Way back in 2019 Harrie wasn't experienced in making new meshes from scratch, so many of the clutter items were mesh edits of EA items. For our first few collaborations, we would actually explore all of the EA items that we felt would fit into our theme, but with the Kichen 2Point0, we made all of the clutter items from scratch. It was so important for us to include new essential clutter pieces in this set as even to this day, we will often gravitate towards those original clutter items when building & we still spot them in many of your builds, too!

We have tried to cover all the appliances you need to bring this kitchen to life. Of course, with new EA functional items being added with new pack releases, we were also long overdue for a small appliance refresh that we haven't had in any of our other set releases. Highlights include the functional kettle (requires For Rent EP) and the mixer (requires Home Chef Hustle SP), but of course, we have also included decorative versions for those of you who don't have those packs.

Most of the items are Base Game compatible, except for the Mixer & kettle, as mentioned above, and can be found by searching the B/B catalog using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets, they will also appear when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO.

We can't wait to see what you do with the new items and how you bring them all to life in your game. As always, we would love it if you tagged us in your builds on social media.

Set items include:

High Oven

Low Oven (2 counter height options)

Low Gas Stove (2 counter height options)

Low Induction Stove (2 counter height options)

Induction Hob

Gas Hob

Dishwasher (2 counter height options)

Fridge

Coffee Machine

Kettle (functional & decorative)

Food Mixer (functional & decorative)

Mixer Bowls

Toaster

Pot & Pans

Large Plates

Small Plates

Bowls

Cups

Glasses

Pantry (open)

Pantry (closed)

Double Pantry

Now on Patreon Early Access

This Set is on Early Access and will be available for everyone on the 7th of June.

[harrie-cc]

Kichen 2Point0 - Part 2

The 43 piece second half of the KICHEN 2Point0 focuses on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.

Of course its also time for another trip down memory lane, to revisit the original Kichen & how it links back to this current iteration. All the items apart from the Wishboner chair have been completely new ideas and meshes, however we wanted to try and capture some of our favourite elements from the original and reimagine them in our current styles. Way back in 2019 Harrie wasn't yet experienced in making new meshes from scratch (Fun fact: The dining table included in the original Kichen was her first ever from scratch mesh!), so a lot of the clutter items were mesh edits of EA items. For our first few collaborations we would actually explore all of the EA items that we felt would fit into our theme, but with the Kichen 2Point0 we made all of the clutter items from scratch. It was so important for us to include new essential clutter pieces in this set as even to this day we will often gravitate towards those original clutter items when building & we still spot them in many of your builds too! (edited)

We have tried to cover all of the appliances you would need to bring this kitchen to life. Of course with new EA functional items being added with new pack releases we were also long overdue a small appliance refresh that we haven't had in any of our other set releases. Highlights include the functional kettle (requires For Rent EP) & the mixer (requires Home Chef Hustle SP), but of course we have also included decorative versions for those of you that don't have those packs.

Majority of the items are Base Game compatible with the exception of the Mixer & kettle as mentioned above and can be found by searching the B/B catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets they will also show up when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO

We really can't wait to see what you do with the new items and how you bring them all to life in your game. As always we would love you to tag us in your builds on social media.

Set items include:

High Oven

Low Oven (2 counter height options)

Low Gas Stove (2 counter height options)

Low Induction Stove (2 counter height options)

Induction Hob

Gas Hob

Dishwasher (2 counter height options)

Fridge

Coffee Machine

Kettle (functional & decorative)

Food Mixer (functional & decorative)

Mixer Bowls

Toaster

Pot & Pans

Large Plates

Small Plates

Bowls

Cups

Glasses

Pantry (open)

Pantry (closed)

Double Pantry

Available Now on Patreon Early Access

Public Release: 7th July

[elig1aq]

TOO SWEET 4 ME | park sunghoon

PAIRINGS, innocent!reader x fuckboy!park sunghoon

FEATURING, enhypen, and aespa

GENRE, social media au, collage au, crack, fluff, smut, angst

SUMMARY, new year, new me! tired of the way your friends treated you like a baby, you try to change your personality from a goody two-shoes to a more captivating one. you think that's a drastic transformation to meet someones standard type, but does your crush (park sunghoon) think the same way?

WARNINGS, vulgar language, mentions of explicit scenes, afab!reader, and all ages are modified to suite the theme

NOTE, this is very much fictional! please don't take it too seriously, all social media photos will be in light mode, and in this fanfic innocent = shy, confident only to friends, socialy awkward, virgin !

STARTED, 18/06/2024 (ongoing)

PROFILES: GIRLS ON TOP! | FUCKS OVER BUCKS

CHAPTERS:

001. NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION?

002. ATTRACTED THE WRONG SPECIMEN?

003. EXPRESS TO IMPRESS?

004. HE CALLLED ME SWEETS?

005. TOO MUCH SWEETS?

006. NOT WORTH IT?

007. START OVER, SWEETS?

008. FLOWER FIELD?

009. -

TAGLIST, open (ask, dm, or comment)

click here to see current taglist!

[endless-ineffabilities]

Official Business

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

a/n: I caved in and listened to the depraved gremlins in my mind. I hope you enjoy this official intro, you're welcome.

also, thank the gods for Rue (@peachysunrize) for creating the hottest gif of all time.

themes/warnings: language, barely-there smut, infidelity, unequal power dynamic, gross misuse of a fancy desk, getting involved with a politician (also gross)

main masterlist

Update! - upcoming series

President Aemond demands the company of his favourite reporter, whom he has been eyeing for quite some time.

You try to walk with your head held high, but your clammy hands and racing heartbeat betray your nerves.

“President Aemond wishes for you to grace his suite,” was all they said. They, being two imposing bodyguards in impeccably tailored black suits, occasionally touching their earpieces as if confirming orders.

“What does he want?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and tentative. More importantly, why you?

They only shrugged, impassive. Whether they didn’t know or didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President always gets what he wants.

You’d only spoken to President Aemond in your capacity as a reporter, part of the small circle allowed to amplify his words to the public. The first time was at the annual Westerosi Gala, where he arrived with First Lady Floris Baratheon on his arm. Your colleagues whispered incessantly about how the uncut footage showed his gaze barely straying from you, even with his stunning aristocratic wife beside him.

Your supervisor even had the footage edited. “You don’t need the media vultures swarming you,” he reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

Now, after covering yet another event in Highgarden, it seems you’ve been summoned for an exclusive interview in the President’s suite. You hope that’s all it is.

After all, you can’t be another victim of President Aemond’s wandering eye. Socialites like Alys Rivers and Lara Lannister had been publicly shredded after being exposed as his mistresses.

You never understood his affairs. They seemed so juvenile, reckless even for the youngest President ever elected. Barely thirty and in the highest position imaginable. And yet, what truly baffled you was why Floris stayed.

“Ma’am, the Presidential Suite,” one of the guards states as he opens a set of ornate ivory doors for you. “The President is waiting inside.”

Your feet move automatically, sparing you from blurting something that would inevitably fall on deaf ears. But as you cross the threshold, you turn and ask, “Will you be waiting to escort me back to – ”

The doors shut behind you. Of course.

The suite is grand – no expense was spared for the President. A perfect blend of classic Valyrian architecture, all white marble and gold accents. It’s more impressive than you could have imagined, having marvelled at the Highgarden Hotel from the outside for years.

“Come,” you hear a voice command, smooth and authoritative, from the room to the left of the main parlour. 

You head in that direction, mentally steeling yourself. Just get this over with.

There he is, leaning casually against a wide desk, dressed sharply in a tailored blue suit and crimson tie. The moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows catches the scar across his left eye, the glint of his prosthetic eye giving him an almost sinister allure. The kind that draws people in despite themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t immaturity driving his affairs. Maybe he was just too beautiful to resist. You roll your eyes at the stupid thought, surprised with yourself.

“Something amusing?” His voice is tinged with laughter.

Gods, you just rolled your eyes in front of the President.

“N-no,” you stammer, immediately flustered. “I’m sorry, Mister President. It’s just... I thought of something funny. Not about you! I mean, I’m sure you can be funny, but - ”

��Relax, angel,” he chuckles, raising a hand to stop your rambling. The term “angel” lingers in the air, branding itself into your mind.

You quickly introduce yourself, fumbling through your full government name like a nervous schoolgirl.

“We’ve met before,” he reminds you, smirking. “Am I that forgettable?”

“No, I know we have,” you nod quickly, “just not in such a… private setting.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at your choice of words, and his gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that sends heat rushing through your body. He hums softly, and the sound settles uncomfortably low in your stomach. Gods, get it together.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Mister President?”

“Aemond,” he corrects. 

You nod, offering your nickname in return, but he only smiles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stick with ‘angel.’”

Weird, considering how this is your first proper conversation with him, you think, but nod regardless.

He gestures to the plush chairs in front of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You comply, smoothing your dress nervously. Thankfully, it’s modest enough – a safe choice that flows just above your knees.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice polite but edged with something else. Part of you wishes he’d just get to the point, but another part – one you’d rather not acknowledge – wants to stay, to drink in the sight of him. Aemond Targaryen, the most powerful man in Westeros, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“I’m doing well,” you reply, your smile faltering under his heavy gaze.

He hums again, eyes dipping to your lips. That same maddening hum that sets your nerves alight.

“You must be wondering why I asked for you tonight,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “I wanted us to get better acquainted. You’ve caught my attention, angel. I find you… intriguing.”

“But you don’t know me,” you counter quickly, heart racing.

“I know more than you think,” he says, eyes narrowing playfully. “You studied at the Casterly Rock Institute for Journalism. Top of your class, until your grades dropped in your final year because you were taking care of your ailing aunt. That says more about you than any degree.”

He continues, “You’re an only child. Estranged from your parents, especially your mother, after she remarried. You’ve moved city to city since, keeping your distance. Avoiding attachments, especially romantic ones.”

You freeze, his words hitting too close to home. There’s an amused lilt to his voice at the end, and you desperately want to respond with a defensive retort, but you hold your tongue. You like your job after all. He’s the President. One call and he could have you right back in the unemployment pool.

“Am I correct?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk.

You manage a small nod. Damn him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask quietly, stunned. You wonder if there are hidden cue cards somewhere in the room, informing him of the details of your relatively uneventful life. There is no way he actually made the effort to memorise all these details about you. But then again, he is the Commander-in-Chief of the country. He must have trained himself to know everything about everyone. You’re not special – just another face in his immediate vicinity. 

“I make it my business to know people,” he replies smoothly. “Especially those who interest me.”

He reaches out to take your hand, pulling you gently to stand before him as he perches on the edge of his desk. The proximity is intoxicating. “And you, angel, have caught my eye. You’re the object of my desire. Can you say the same of me?”

His words leave you breathless, the floor slipping from under you. You’re no better than the others, drawn into his orbit. “I’d be an idiot not to find you attractive, Aemond.”

He smirks. “I adore the way you say my name.”

“There’s nothing special about the way I say it.”

“There is,” he insists, his voice low and rough as his hand moves to smooth a stray hair from your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel.” His expletive takes you aback, so unbecoming of someone of his status. 

“I’m not a fool,” you shoot back, forcing yourself to remain steady. “I’ve heard about your... doings.”

“My doings?” He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You’re married obviously,” you say bluntly. “And you’ve had affairs. Women like Alys Rivers, Lara Lannister…”

He doesn’t flinch. “I’ve had lovers, yes, but my marriage is... loveless. Floris and I, we’ve always been an arrangement for political convenience.”

“That doesn’t justify anything.”

He steps closer, his eyes darkening. “I’m trapped. I can’t leave her. It would destroy my reputation. But she has her own lovers too.”

“And so you feel entitled to have yours?”

He breathes deeply, gaze unwavering. “Not just anyone. I want you, angel. Only you.”

You feel yourself dangerously close to giving in, especially when his gaze drops to your lips and he shamelessly licks his own. Desperate to stay composed, you ask, “Am I just another lover to add to your collection? I may be a lowly journalist compared to you, Mister President, but I have a reputation to protect too.”

“I know this, angel,” he whispers, his voice softer now, yet drawing closer with every word. “I’ll protect you.”

“Did you protect Alys? Or Lara? Or the others?” you challenge, though your voice falters.

“They orchestrated their own downfall,” he says coolly, his expression unreadable. “They used me for power. That was out of my hands.”

Oh. His words momentarily rattle your resolve, but you shake your head, trying to pull yourself out of the spell he’s weaving over you. “No, this is wrong,” you murmur, the words weak on your tongue. But his warm breath fans your face, luring you into the same madness he claims to feel.

“Is this wrong?” he whispers, his lips grazing yours – featherlike, teasing, barely there. Then, as if something shifts within him, he kisses you again, harder this time, his mouth pressing hungrily against yours. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat through your body as you teeter on the edge of reason.

You cave, for a few seconds, letting your lips dance with his own in a battle for dominance. You elicit a growl out of him, and he picks you up and swaps your bodies so that you are perched atop his desk. 

“Gods,” he purrs, against the heat of your neck. “Sweeter than I imagined. You’re a fucking angel.” His gaze is arresting as his hands slide from your ankles to the hem of your dress, lifting it higher and higher until your moist panties are exposed to the cool air. 

You collect yourself as if hit by a dizzying wave of whiplash, pushing him away with a sharp shove. “Stop – wait, Mister Pres – Aemond…”

He stumbles, lips swollen and slick, his good eye darkened, pupil blown wide. “Right, sorry…” His breath comes heavy as he averts his gaze, and you smooth your dress down, feeling the weight of the moment between you. He straightens, his posture stiffening as if suddenly remembering who he is. “I didn’t mean to push you, angel.”

“You didn’t –”

“It was wrong of me to –”

“Aemond,” you cut in softly, your hand slipping between you to squeeze his in reassurance. “It’s okay. I wanted it too.”

A genuine smile blooms on his lips, innocent and sweet, but it fades just as quickly at your next words. “But this can’t happen again. We can’t happen.”

"Why not?" His voice is low, measured, but there’s an edge to it. "Why can’t we? You say you wanted it too."

“We both know why,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You turn to leave, but hesitate just long enough to say, “Goodbye, Mister President.”

“Angel,” he calls softly, and it’s the only word he offers.

As you step out of his suite, the door closing behind you with a quiet finality, a thought begins to take root, unsettling in its persistence – he never actually said goodbye.

And deep down, you know this isn’t over. Something stirs in your chest, an uneasy certainty - while this is the first of these kinds of encounters, it won’t be the last. 

Taglists (refer here to be added)

vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @anukulee @decaffeinatedparadisepost @iloveallmyboys @inesdiary96

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @misssanzthings @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

Some notes in the margins...

Knowing me, this will inevitably turn into more than just a oneshot. Do bookmark this or my masterlist to keep updated! Or you may join the taglist using the link above ~

[eloves-writes]

feeling’s mutual

[max verstappen x reader]

desc: max overhears his teammate having some alone time in her driver’s room, and can’t help himself knocking on to see what she’s doing

warnings: swearing, masturbation (f+m), mutual masturbation, implied age gap, dom!max

a/n: this came to me like a prophetic vision. just kidding, except not really bc i wrote this so fast. it’s like 2am and i need to sleep, but i hope you enjoy, requests open as always (!!), comments and reblogs are so so loved and appreciated (just like you!). mwah mwah mwah ily

this work contains mature themes, minors do not interact

——————————————————

the first practice session had been rough; you were new to redbull after getting promoted from f2 mid-season, and you weren’t quite getting used to the car as quick as you��d hoped. pair that with some subpar upgrades and you’d been left in the middle of the time sheet, whilst your teammate had topped the board like always. to make matters worse, your boyfriend, a fellow f2 driver, had dumped you when you moved up and the sexual frustration was started to grate on you too.

luckily, you’d managed to weasel your way out of media commitments and strategy meetings between the two practice sessions and had some time to kill two birds with one stone and attempt to release some tension with your trusty vibrator. it came in a carry case that made it look completely unsuspicious in your handbag, and after a quick check outside your driver’s room to make sure nobody was lingering, you took it out and began to undress from the waist down.

for some reason, the image of your teammate came to mind as you turned the toy to its lowest setting and placed it against you. the way his hand would linger on your waist when he spoke to you, the feeling of him pressed up against your back as he tried to move past you in a crowded garage, your tits on his chest through the fabric of your suits on the rare occasion he hugged you. even his voice, that dutch accent, and the anger in it when he came back to the redbull suite after a bad session.

quickly, waves of pleasure were sent through your body and you turned up the vibrator to the next intensity. god, he could be so insufferable sometimes. complaining about podiums because he didn’t win, moaning about every interview he had to give as if he wasn’t the reigning world champion. and he was older than you, not by too much, but enough that the thought of him fucking you made you wet with a sort of dirty lust you didn’t feel with men your own age. as you started to really feel good, you let out a small, breathy whimper that wouldn’t have been heard by anybody, except that max himself was in his own driver’s room beside yours listening closely, practically with his ear against the wall.

he’d heard a quiet, mechanical whirring as he scrolled through his phone, and thought nothing of it- a common sound to hear at an f1 track. it wasn’t until he really listened, and noticed an accompaniment of heavy female breathing that he realised the direction the sound was coming from; your room. his younger, beautiful teammate who he could never touch, but could perversely rake his eyes over whenever you wore something tight, short, or low cut. admittedly, he felt like a bit of a creep thinking of you in such a way whilst you were doing nothing at all sexual, but this was different. he could listen. and it wasn’t his fault, really, that he could hear you. and it really wasn’t his fault that he could hear you moan his name, and that his legs seemed to be taking him out of his door and towards yours.

you didn’t mean to say it out loud, it had just slipped out, but the sound of it painfully turned you on so you tried it again and found yourself coming closer to the release you’d been craving so badly. you whispered it again, ready to bring yourself over the edge, before being so rudely interrupted by a knock on your door.

“shit,” you whispered, fumbling to turn the vibrator off and find some pants. you’d left some sweatpants on the floor and quickly pulled them up, hopping over to your door. you opened it to be met with the face of the man you’d been fantasising about. your cheeks involuntarily blushed a crimson, ferrari red.

“max!” you started, trying to act normal. how the fuck did you speak to him again? “what’s up?”

that definitely wasn’t it. max smirked, raising an eyebrow to look beyond you and to the sofa you’d been laying on moments before. “just checking you’re ok,” he spoke slowly.

“yeah?” you replied as fast as you could. “why wouldn’t i be ok?”

he chuckled softly. “i … heard something. thin walls.”

your face dropped again. you scrambled for something to say, an explanation, but max beat you to it.

“can i come in?”

you nodded slowly, letting him into your room and closing the door behind him. you felt sheepish, stupid for not keeping yourself quiet. you couldn’t look him in the eye, despite where your mind had been wandering previously.

“did you finish?” he asks, not struggling at all to make eye contact like you were.

you didn’t know what you expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. you stayed silent, trying and failing again to think of a response.

“i asked, y/n,” he repeated himself, “did you finish?”

his expression was not one that you’d seen on him before, and you found yourself shaking your head. “no.”

he took a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. “go on then,” he dared. you looked at him like he’d just asked you to rear end him on the track on sunday. “show me what you were doing. i want to watch.”

stunned into silence once again, your hands operated separately from your brain and pushed your sweatpants to the floor. you lay back down on the sofa, taking up the same position as earlier, and picked up your vibrator that you’d promptly shoved behind a cushion when he’d knocked. he didn’t look away once, his eyes darting from your face to your wet cunt between your open legs. you placed the toy against you once again and switched it back on. it felt so much more intense now, both from how close you’d been before and from max watching you. he didn’t say anything as you started to rhythmically move your hips in response to the vibrations, but slid a hand into his pants to stroke himself in time with your movements.

the orgasm came back to you quickly, and as you moved faster so did max’s hand on his cock.

“say my name, schat, like you did before.”

your eyes flickered over to him before you obliged without the confidence you’d said it with when you were alone.

“no, no. look at me,” he demanded. just the sight of him stroking himself, watching you get yourself off, made you moan his name again, properly.

“good girl, that’s better.”

that earned another moan from you, making you cum and release onto the sofa with a whine of pleasure. max finished himself almost instantly, spilling into his own hand. you passed him a tissue, but he shook his head.

“for your …” you said, confused.

he offered his palm out to you, covered in his release. “clean it up, schat.”

if he wanted to play it that way, you could play too. you held the bottom of his hand, and sat your still wet and naked cunt over his thigh before fixing your eyes on his and licking his cum from his hand.

“that’s cute,” he said sarcastically. “now there’s a wet spot on my jeans, looks like i’ve pissed myself.”

you shrugged your shoulders innocently and hopped off him, pulling your sweatpants on again.

he stood up and stepped towards you, towering over you. he tilted your face up to his, and leaned in. “we’ll see who’s laughing when i make you sit there again tonight. i’m not done with you yet.”

[mv1simp]

my constant thought about max is him and virgin reader where r is saving herself for marriage and for her husband but max convinces her that doing anal means she’ll stay a virgin <33

Anon YOU EVEN MADE ME BLUSHH 🤭🤭🤭 do u know how hard that is. got me kickin and gigglin an shit, here u go u filthy animal keep the requests coming 🫶

Low Life ♥️

Max Verstappen x Horner! Reader

I been on the molly and ‘em xans with your daughter, if she catch me cheatin’ I won’t ever tell her sorry

Mad Max is back in full force with the poor Redbull strategy this season - and his boss, Christian Horner, doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it. Guess Max will just have to find some other way to get his revenge and relieve his stress…starting with his boss’s precious, spoiled daughter.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin!reader, who’s also a spoiled brat lol, dark! Max, blackmail, coercion, filming, VERY dubcon, anal, size kink, dom/sub, bimbofication, religious themes, EVERYTIME I WRITE A DARK MAX FIC IT KEEPS GETTING MORE NASTY GODDAMN, 5.2k WC

To say Max was pent up with rage would be an understatement. After dedicating himself tirelessly and dominating the track since his debut, the Redbull team had disappointed him this season with their pisspoor car and even poorer strategy. And to top it off, his boss was now making comments to the media about how he needed to spend less time on the sim rig the night before a race, making Max scoff. As if Horner knew more about winning a race than a 3 time world champion, Max thought angrily, yanking off his helmet as he stormed straight to his boss's office to give him a piece of his mind after another disappointing P3 finish.

Horner was having none of it, though, telling Max some bullshit about how the team needed to have a united front blah blah blah. Max has already tuned him out, cause what the fuck does he mean the team - he was the one bringing home the results every weekend, and anyone who tried to say otherwise just needed to look at the track record of Max completely dominating his teammates in equal machinery. God, he hadn’t gotten this mad in a long time, so he excuses himself rudely as he can tell he’s about to wreck something if he has to hear another one of Horner’s excuses. He wrenches open the office door just to have you stumble straight into his firm chest as you try to enter it.

You, Christian’s Horner’s daughter from his first wedding, freshly graduated from some private all girls college. He’d met you 3 months ago while you were trotting about like the spoiled little brat you undoubtedly were. No job, just using your degree as decor while you used your daddy’s fame to find yourself a rich man to spread your legs for, he had speculated, knowing just your type.

And it irritated him to no end that you looked the picture of innocence, an angelic figure in your white minidress and kitten heels and wide doe eyes, with a matching purity ring and all - even though your pretty tits and fat ass were openly ogled by many a male staff member. Max himself had to readjust his pants a few times when he’d seen you bend over.

He’d assumed you’d try to sink your gold digging claws into him soon enough, wanting some of his multimillionaire status for yourself, but you’d surprised him by skittishly avoiding him, almost looking a little scared, which he found amusing. He supposed he did dwarf your 5 foot frame though, and you had all the aura of a sweet little lamb compared to the Dutch lion. You’d surprised him again last month, when you’d introduced your dad to your pick of a first boyfriend - Tim, a docile looking, short guy who was a lowly new hire in the F4 reserve category. Too far down in the rankings to do any real benefit to your status. Conveniently, though, Tim’s father happened to own a software development app that was currently in the process of a $3 million acquisition deal. Chump change to someone like Max, but like he said, he knew your type, didn’t he?

But he’d been most surprised when he’d overheard moaning one night when he’d stayed late in the garage - and had pervily gone to investigate down the abandoned hallway and into one of the empty rooms - only to get an instant hard on at the sight of you on your knees, dress pulled down to your waist and those delicious tits out on display. So entranced by the angelic vision, Max hadn’t even noticed your loser boyfriend - till a scowl appeared on your pretty face as Tim furiously jerked his tiny dick off in front of you. He was panting and whining, sweat running down his face as he pathetically begged please, please can i touch your boobs-

You were no scared little lamb now as you snapped at him viciously. No! I told you, only looking and no touching! I promised daddy I would stay pure for my husband- Eww! Oh my god, what is that?

You’d been cut off as your boyfriend came, his small, clear load weakly spurting past his fist so that only a couple of drops landed on your caramel skin. Max had thought you’d been lying about the purity bullshit, just wanting an excuse to avoid Tim’s touch - but his eyes narrowed at your look of disgust at your boyfriend’s dick, and the genuinely puzzled expression on your face as you tried to figure out what the clear fluid that landed on you was - making the impressive semi he still rocked twitch, despite your pathetic boyfriend ruining his show. Interesting, you were still a virgin, huh?

Sure, you’d piqued his interest then, but he ignored you now as you stumble back from his hard chest, wide brown doe eyes blinking up at him. He’s still furious with Horner and starts to move past you but your aggravating father perks up, asking if you could show Max where his new drivers' room was in the refurbished wing, so that he could cool down and destress in peace after today’s race. Of course, daddy, you responded sweetly, making Max’s cock stir. He eyed you doubtfully as you lead the way. You had to know what you were doing, a grown woman using that word, right? But then again, he’d seen you call Horner by that title in a team wide press conference, making GP choke on his water next to him - so maybe not.

His anger hadn’t dissipated one bit as you approached his room, in a much more secluded area of the new wing for him to “cool down” as Horner had passively aggressively suggested. Still clearly nervous in his presence, you accidentally dropped the key you’d fished out. As you bent over to collect them, your miniskirt rose up, revealing your juicy ass peeking past your white cotton panties. Oh, he’d found the perfect way to get back at his boss, Max thought devilishly.

As you unlocked the door, he stepped in behind you, giving you no choice but to stumble inside - and then he’d casually stopped in front of the door to block your exit. You nervously twirled your keycard in your fingers, shuffling side to side.

Why don’t you sit down, he offered, we should get to know each other, yeah? You still looked like you wanted to bolt any second, but at Max’s authoritative tone you gingerly sat down on the plush couch.

He started with some generic bullshit about how he’d seen you around, you were his boss’s daughter after all, and as Horner’s best driver he should be on good terms with you too, no?

You relaxed, now looking up to meet his eyes and smiling brightly, pleased that the great Max Verstappen had come to seek your favour. You start saying that it was nice to meet him too, you’d heard lots about him, he was such an incredible driver-

You hadn’t noticed Max discreetly locking the door behind him. Stepping forward, he responded neutrally to your excited questions as he casually strips off his top layer, leaving him shirtless.

You abruptly stop talking, going pink in the face, and he asks what’s wrong, I’m just getting changed, are you a virgin or something? His mocking tone makes it clear that he still didn’t quite believe you were one. When you don’t reply, he gently lifts your face up with his large hand. And as your eyes shyly rise up to meet his, desperately avoiding looking at his broad, toned abs, there’s no faking the genuine innocence in them. I am, you stutter out. A virgin, I mean. I made a promise to daddy to wait till marriage.

You twirl your promise ring around anxiously as you say it. Max didn’t know what kind of sick brainwashing Horner had been subjecting his daughter too, but he fully intended to use it to his advantage. Really? He says slyly. Does your daddy know you let your little boyfriend jerk off on your tits?

You gasp, then glare as you demanded to know how he knew that, had he been watching, that was soo creepy and gross -

There’s the bratty angel he knew had been hiding. He cuts you off, confirming that yes, he’d been watching - but you’d been the dirty girl who seduced her innocent boyfriend in the garage for just anyone to see, hadn’t you?

You’d look outraged at his statements, but he reminded you of the power he had when he nonchalantly mentioned that he hadn’t planned on telling your father, but now that he knew about the promise you had made - well, it was his duty to let Horner know what kind of naughty things you’d been doing behind his back, right?

That had wiped the bratty glare right off your face, instead making you wide eyed and tremble with fear at the thought of your daddy finding out. You begged Max to keep your secret. Please don’t tell him, he would die, you'd do anything to stop him knowing!

Jackpot. Smirking darkly, Max pretended to consider your option before saying that he supposed he could keep it to himself if you helped him destress and relax like your father had sent you here to do, okay?

You nodded eagerly, looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes as he stepped right in front of you, watching you predatorily. His thick fingers brush along your pink lips, and his eyes darken as you instinctively take them into your mouth, sucking sweetly. Oh, you were going to be such a sweet little angel for him, he just knew it.

Within seconds he had you dropping your dress down to your waist, exposing those lush, pretty tits of yours. You blushed when he stared hungrily and ordered you to play with them, and at first you obliged and gently squeezed them, but then stopped to brattily ask just how this was supposed to help destress him, was he just being pervy again?

Great point, he said, and sat down next to you to easily lift you into his lap, taking over and roughly palming your tits. N-no touching! You had squealed, desperately trying to escape his strong arms. Rolling his eyes, he forced you back against him, explaining that it was okay, you knew that it didn’t count if it was to help him destress, right? And besides, nothing would affect your promise to your daddy except a man’s cock actually entering your precious virgin hole-

Okay! You had said frantically to put a stop to his explicit words, face flushed. Okay, if you promise it doesn’t count, I’ll still be a virgin, right?

God, it was so cute how naive you were. You hadn’t even realised that if what Max was saying was true then there was nothing illicit with what you and Tim had done - and Max had nothing to hold over you. Right, Angel, Max promised, enjoying the dazed look you gave him at the nickname as he squeezed your tits, bending down to take a pretty nipple into his mouth. It doesn’t count.

And that was how Max had his boss’s innocent little daughter wrapped around his fingers, ready to do whatever he asked of her, as long as he kept your secret. It was such a rush, having his way with you right under your father’s nose, being able to punish you for his crimes and ruining you more and more each time Horner pissed him off - and oh, did he piss Max off constantly.

So the next race, he’d had you fully strip for him, and yes, even those cute panties, Angel, when you’d whined, embarrassed from his intense gaze. You’d bit your lip and slid them off, obediently spreading your legs and gently playing with yourself like he’d asked, using unfamiliar movements. Soon enough you’d become accustomed to Max’s hungry stares at your innocent parts and began thrusting your tiny fingers inside your virgin cunny, because it had started to feel sooo good and soo tingly down there, and you’d never felt like that before.

You’d become distracted, closing your eyes from the sensation and when you opened them you shrieked, because Max was now standing right above you, greedily looking down at your petite form as he stroked his own private parts - called a cock, he’d made you repeat. He’d also warned you never to scream again in his room, or he’d gag you next time and tell your dad about Tim. You pouted, nodding obediently, but whining that you got scared Maxie, why was it so big, so angry, was it going to hurt you?

Of course not, Angel he’d reassured at the next race again, this time making you sit next to him, naked except for your kitten heels and a lacy blue thong he’d had delivered to your house - your father as clueless as ever when he handed the package over to you. It won’t hurt you, he promised, but it's very hard from stress and needs you to help drain it, okay?

He’d guided you to his large cock, smirking evilly as you struggled to grip him even with two hands. He moved one large hand over both of yours, showing you how to jerk him off the way he liked. You’d picked it up very quickly, innocently asking him why Tim's cock was so much tinier that his. Cause, Angel, I'm just a better man than he is, he had said with a chuckle. Oh, you had said, then - I hope my husband is a good man then, and has a big cock like you.

Oh, Jesus. Max was definitely going to hell after this. Feeling his peak approaching, he ordered you onto your knees, making you hold your tits up - and then proceeded to cover them with his thick, creamy release, so much of it that it dripped down onto your stomach - and much more than the time you had seen Tim’s cock explode. You’d almost screamed again but bit your tongue at the last minute, remembering Max’s threat last time. But it didn’t stop you from glaring up at him, brattily asking what this gross stuff was, eww, you didn’t want it on you-

That’s fine, Max had said cooly. That’s fine, because next time he'd make you drink it all instead. Your eyes went wide at that, tears forming and you adamantly denied Max, saying you’d never do something like that, it sounded pervy and dirty.

But your reluctance meant nothing to Max, as he smirked at you from your fathers side the next day, whispering something in his ear that had your daddy looking over at you and an icy chill running down your back. You were petrified as you got a text from your father to come see him in his office now, walking in on the verge of tears only to have him smile delightedly at you because Max mentioned you’d been very supportive of his races lately, it’s been a big reason why he’s so much more of a team player these days, so proud of you for helping the team, sweetie!

You’d accepted his praise, blushing from the attention, and later had dutifully wandered back to Max’s room to greet him after the race. He smirked at finding you there, already naked except for a pink lacey thong and heels, on your knees for him, shyly thanking him for keeping your secret and saying such nice things to your daddy. Of course, Angel, he murmured, unzipping himself. You know just how to say thank you then, hmm? And you obediently nodded, jerking him off like he’d taught you, then licking and sucking on his cock when he asked, and then taking all of his length inside your eager throat at his command, gagging the whole way as he tutted disapprovingly at you, taking over and controlling the pace with his large hands. It had really hurt your tiny mouth, and you couldn’t speak properly afterwards, but seeing Maxie swear and tell you how good you were doing, how he never wanted to let you go, made that tingly feeling come back in between your legs again. Instead of ignoring it like you normally did, this time you couldn't resist fingering yourself, thong pushed the side as you shoved your fingers inside your wet cunny.

Maxie had gone breathless seeing that, and then he tensed before you felt his warm, sticky thick cum fill your mouth. You swallowed every drop, opening your mouth afterwords for him to inspect. Good girl, he said, patting your head. My sweet angel, you drained my stress so well. Oh, so that’s what it was, you say innocently. I’m glad I made you feel better, Maxie.

After that, there were no races for a whole month as the paddock went into summer break. You had thought you’d be glad for the relief from Maxie and his mean demands, but you found yourself texting him often, missing his loving kisses and touches after you helped relieve his stress, missing the tingly feeling you got when he looked predatorily at you spread open for him.

You’d been shocked when you opened your eyes as a shadow had blocked out the sun while you were sunbathing at your family’s St Tropez holiday home, only to find Max grinning down at you, saying your dad had invited him to come for the week. Had you been doing your homework? You nodded diligently, looking at the banana you’d been practising swallowing whole without gagging to copy the dirty video Max had texted you of a petite woman eagerly sucking a very big cock - he must be a good man, you’d thought, just like your Maxie.

Secretly, you were so glad he was here, shooting him looks over the dinner table as he sung praises about what a good friend you’d been to him, helping him get back to P1, making your daddy proudly pat your head. And after dinner when everyone had gone to bed, he joined you in the hot tub to unwind. You’d excitedly begun to tell him about what you had been upto on the break when you felt his thick fingers creeping up the inside of your thighs. You’d frozen instantly, because Maxie had never touched you there himself, but before you could say anything your father stepped out onto the veranda, asking you something about your plans for the next day.

Answer him, Max mouthed, smirking as you had no choice but to let him keep gliding up your legs and undoing your tiny bikini. And when your daddy had gone back inside, oblivious that the flush on your face wasn’t from the heat of the pool, you’d tried to shove Max’s hand away, brattily saying you didn’t want his hand near your private parts, that was just for your husband-

Doesn’t count, Angel, Max had cooed, easily overpowering you and sliding a finger in, much thicker and longer than yours and making you squeal as he started pumping it in and out of you. And he hadn’t stopped despite your half hearted protests, because you’d started to feel really good, really tingly, and Maxie, I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee-

After you had your first orgasm, he carried your tired figure back into the house, setting you down and licking your cum off his fingers. And then, through your half asleep state, you felt his tongue swirling around your nipples, leaving hickeys and then trailing down, and down before his warm breath gently blew over your puffy cunny. And then you felt his wide tongue licking your folds, making you gasp awake and squeal cause why was he kissing you down there, that’s so pervy-

But he’d easily bullied you back into quiet muffled moans again, your skimpy bikini bottoms shoved inside your mouth as he warned you that your father was going to wake up right next door and come investigate if you didn’t shut up. So you reluctantly let him continue his filthy kissing, spitting and licking on your most innocent parts until you felt you had to pee again. He grinned wickedly as you squirted a second time, completely ruining the sheets, before redressing your passed out figure in a comfy hoodie. You felt the ghost of a sweet kiss on your forehead before he walked away.

You avoided him the next few days, glaring when he would approach you, angry he’d kissed you somewhere only your husband should. He’d promised you were still a virgin, sure, but still! It was just too much, wasn’t it?

But you’d been unable to resist his advances any longer when he’d cornered you in the family study one day when everyone else had gone out to the markets. He’d sweetly apologised, presenting you with a new Dior bag he’d had speed delivered that morning, and you happily snatched it up, gasping with delight as you look inside to find a Cartier bracelet. You’ll forgive me, right, Angel? Max had said, slowly wrapping his arms around you from behind and rubbing his practically blue balls against your plush ass as you distractedly admire your new gifts. I just wanted to make you feel good, hmm?

You nodded breathlessly, agreeing that you supposed it had felt really good, you liked that tingly feeling in between your legs. Yeah? Max had grinned, kissing you and slipping his tongue inside and saying that he knew a way to make you feel even better, Angel, and you’d still be a virgin after it, he pinky promises, okay?

With the new Dior bag and diamond bracelet you’d become a lot more agreeable, and didn’t protest as he laid you back on your father’s study table, lifting your miniskirt over your hips and grinning wickedly when he found no panties - just your glistening pussy. Y-you always just rip them anyways, Maxie you pouted.

Oh, you secretly wanted this, didn’t you? Acting all bratty just cause you wanted to make him work for it, he was certain. Your sweet body was such a good plaything for him that he didn’t really mind, deciding not to punish you for avoiding him.

You curiously watch as he unzips himself, taking his thick cock out, then you squeal adamantly in protest when he brings it close to your innocent hole. Shh, Angel, it’s just on the outside, he’d promised, I won’t put it in, it’ll feel so good, trust me.

And it had felt sooo good, making you bite your lip and toss your head back as he dragged his warm length along your folds, slapping your clit a few times with his cockhead, making you spread your soft legs invitingly as you felt the addictive tingly feeling come back again.

He’d been unable to resist the temptation, sliding just the tip into your virgin cunny- but you’d immediately screamed in protest, twisting away and he had generously released you from his hold, tongue in cheek as you sashayed away with a backwards glare, Dior bag in hand. He’d had to leave the next day, and you didn’t see him the rest of the break.

After the break, you had seemed different to Max. You carried the brattiness openly in your eyes, confident now in your ability to seduce him as he has brought such expensive apology gifts just for a little taste of your virginity.

You had infuriatingly said no when he tried to rub himself against your cunny at the next race, and at the one after that, so here he was, stuck fingering you and sliding his tongue in and out of your folds for the 3rd time this week while his cock ached to be buried inside you - when the wicked idea came to him.

He’d made sure to have all the preparations ready for the next race, knowing you would be a brat and try to weasel your way out of it. Like he’d predicted, you make your way to his plush sofa, spreading your legs to show off your naked pussy and demanding he come kiss it how you liked.

Oh, his Angel had become quite the spoilt little bitch, hasn’t she? He’d have to make sure you learned your lesson about who was in charge around here. You smirk as he drags his tongue up and down your puffy folds, thinking you had the millionaire driver all wrapped around your fingers. His thick third and ring fingers join his tongue, making you moan and close your eyes as he pumps them into your pussy. And then, his thumb drops down, lower, to circle your other winking hole before sliding inside.

You’d jumped in shock, naively asking why he was touching your dirty hole, that’s so embarrassing, you don’t want him to touch that place!

Max cooes that he couldn’t care less, besides, he can clean it out for you, yeah? If he just slides his cock in, just a little bit, he can make sure it’s all clean for you.

Your eyes go impossibly wide at the thought of his big cock anywhere near your ass. You furiously close your legs, brattily telling him that you’d had enough, wasn’t he just being a pervert now, and you’d already broken up with Tim ages ago and since Max seemed to be very relaxed now given his P1s has resumed you didn’t think you needed to help him out anymore!

Time to pull out the big guns. Sitting back on the sofa now, Max palms his growing erection as he calls out to you, making you pause from where your hand rested on the doorknob.

You know, Angel, I’ve had a lot of creepy fans sneak onto the garage lately. Some even got into my room. I guess they just really wanted to see me shirtless, huh?

You turn around to look at him, confused, until your eyes slowly widen in horror as he points to the camera tucked in the corner. There’s no trace of sympathy on his handsome face as he starts lazily jerking himself off, telling you that it had been your fathers idea to set it up, for his safety, and he’d even kindly offered to go through all the footage later - he took any threats against his prized driver very seriously.

You panicked, already teary eyed at the thought of your father seeing you spreading your legs sluttily and demanding Max pleasure you. You immediately dropped to your knees, begging Max to keep the tape himself-

Now why would I do that, Angel? Max cooes, getting harder at the sight of you kneeling in front of him and crying for his help. After all, you’re the one who’s forcing him to kiss her pussy on that video, hmm?

He knows he has you right where he wants you as you beg him, offering up your precious pussy to slide against again if he wanted, just don’t go inside, okay?

That’s not the hole he wants, Angel, he told you darkly. No - he wanted your other hole, the dirty embarrassing one, and he wants to sink his entire cock inside it.

He watches you stutter and gasp, before you take a deep breath and naively ask My husband won’t be able to tell, right Maxie? I’ll still be a virgin?

Max smirks. Of course, Angel. You know he’d never break your precious promise. And with that, you’re ready to become his obedient pet again, blankly turning around and sticking your ass up in the air like he asks, spreading your cheeks for him to look at.

And oh, Max takes his sweet time looking, enjoying the twisted satisfaction of having completely broken you down like this. He generously douses you in lube, making you squeal at the chill, before he’s furiously pumping his thumb inside your impossibly tight back hole. You tremble as he lines his cock up, ordered you to relax or it’ll hurt, Angel. Slowly sinking inside, he moans as he finally finds his way into your heat, feeling like he’s reached heaven. Tears stream down your face as you wail once he begins meanly thrusting, wickedly taking your anal virginity all for himself and giving you his fingers to suckle on and keep quiet.

He doesn’t stop until he’s finished inside you, panting heavily and pushing his matted hair out of his eyes, pressing kisses down your spine to let you know you did so well for him.

He pulls out with a wet squelch, enjoying the sight of his cum dripping out of your poor, abused little hole. Sitting back comfortably on the sofa, legs spread, he gives you a cocky smirk as you turn around, still seated on the ground in front of him.

Now clean it up, he demands meanly. He can’t have your hole make his cock dirty now, can he? And you obediently responded, crawling forward with glazed eyes, licking him clean from balls to tip like he’s trained you to do.

After that night, Max had held you completely in the palm of his hand. You’d be the perfect angel for him, doing whatever he wanted wherever he wanted - except for entering your innocent pussy, of course. He’d let you keep it yours for now, finding the fantasy hot. He’d buy you a diamond ring one of these days, he mused, so that you’d beg him to finally claim your virginity.

But for now, he had a couple other tricks to try out. And if you’d try to refuse, he’ll pull up the video he has on his phone of your eyes rolling back as Max ate you out on your father’s work desk from summer break.

He’d taken you back to his hotel room to teach you those tricks, making you wail and scream his name without restriction, headboard banging against the wall. It was hilarious when Horner had come upto him at breakfast the next morning, patting his back and saying it sounded like he’d been celebrating his win very well last night, congratulations, he deserves it and sounded like the girl couldn’t get enough!

Max had to hold back his laughter, as your clueless father had no idea he was carrying an extra croissant up for the very same girl who couldn’t get enough - his precious little daughter, who still lay sleeping in his hotel bed, exhausted from his dirty activities all night.

You’d ended up missing your flight back, making some weak excuse to your daddy and had followed Max into his private jet, obediently spreading yourself open for him as he pulled you behind the privacy screen. The flight attendants had blushed as they heard your eager moans and the lewd sounds of Max greedily fucking your ass again.

And when you landed, greeting your waiting family, Max had to discreetly wipe the line of cum that trickled down your skirt. You didn’t have to worry, though, he’d already thoughtfully ordered another delivery of sexy underwear straight to your home 🖤

—————————————————————————

A/N: I actually gave myself post nut clarity writing this (post writing smut clarity?? Post smut conscience??) time to go outside and reconnect with nature. As always,,,lmk what u think 🤔

[jyoongim]

Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”