#this is actually the only other request i have gotten thus far so as a reminder: they are open!

[piningpercussionist]

Maybe you could draw something in reference to the “it’s pride month you know what that means” meme

I love overcomplicating things,,, /s

This is like. Attempt 3 or 4 at this one- we may see one of the other attempts completed at some point. Maybe. We'll see.

(Alt version under the cut bc She Would)

[my-current-obsession]

I gotta say, it took me a bit to really get into Rune Factory 3 (in fact when I first got the game and tried it out I quit after like two hours and didn't touch it for a few months just because the gameplay was a bit janky and it was missing some quality-of-life stuff I was used to having in 4 and 5 and I got really frustrated), but on my second foray into the game it really sucked me in. I might even like the story and especially the romance aspect better than the other games.

I really appreciate that the romance is a forced part of the narrative; you literally can't access the final dungeon and beat the game until you pick a girl to marry. And BECAUSE of that, this game went hard on actually developing the girls and giving you ample time to spend with them. The request system basically functions as a "route" for each girl, and while I've only completed (9/9 one-time quests done) a few of them (Raven, Daria, Marian) I've really enjoyed everything thus far and felt the relationships develop from strangers to friends to love.

And unlike 4 and 5 where I have clear favorites in terms of who to marry, I honestly don't know who I'm going to pick yet. The only girls I'm NOT particularly interested in are Carmen, Colette, and Kuruna. All the other girls are great and I'd be happy to marry any of them, though I AM leaning towards Raven, Marian, or Sakuya (who I WOULD have completed already if not for some of her events being locked behind plot progression...).

[yappaccinocookie]

the strongest version of you.

yn cookie who awakens theirs fullest potential (like golden cheese and dark cacao)... ancients and beasts react to? (maybe gingerbrave and co too if u want!!)

of course you can! i did the same layout as the last request i made, since doing full oneshots for each cookie might actually kill me. I LEFT FOR A WHOLE 1 MONTH, IM SO SORRY. listen, this did not specify anything romantic, thus it's not romantic. the beasts are cruel, and it's obvious in their lore no this is not yandere is plain truth. sorry if some are short, I haven't gotten back into crk, and yk that's not rlly good!

LOWERCASE INTENDED!

ANCIENTS —

— White Lily

"Amazing... You found the strongest version of yourself!"

white lily cookie is overjoyed, she's always sensed that you're not to your fullest the first time she's seen you. she's very supportive and tries her best to help you get used to all of your new powers! don't expect any fights though, she's quite cautious. she trusts you that you can fight, but white lily doesn't trust herself.

her friends had an awakening like yours before, it all still feels unreal to her. you will definitely have those buddy–buddy sleep over conversations where there is no sleep, just psychology questions that make you wonder if she really is sane or if dark enchantress took all the sanity with her too.

— Golden Cheese

"Really? Does this mean we can battle!"

the shine in her eyes when you said that was absolutely priceless, tell her everything about it! power always amazes no matter no matter who its form, foe or ally! golden cheese has also awakened her fullest potential like you, and she's proud you were able to do it! saying how you guys are the coolest duo ever.

and of course, she's battle hungry! since she's unlocked her fullest potential and you've unlocked yours, it's only logical you guys battle right? it's to see the difference your strength. imagine how longer battles would last (and how many natural disasters it could cause in earth bread) don't worry you can entertain her shenanigans, but you shouldn't let her go overboard.

— Dark Cacao

"Well done."

dark cacao cookie doesn’t openly gush about your newfound power, but his respect for you deepens tenfold. he acknowledges your growth with a firm nod and a simple, “well done.” behind the scenes, he ensures you have everything you need to master your abilities, from intense training regimens to personal advice on staying disciplined.

he might test you in combat, not to belittle you, but to see how far you’ve come. don't worry, he won't mock you if you won't land a hit! he's got the patience of a snail. dark cacao will keep training and training with you until you're able to do more than your simple basic attacks.

he sees you as a vital pillar for the future of earthbread, he's seen you grow into this strong cookie with their own life ahead of them! more heroic duties to come, he's more than proud of you.

— Hollyberry

"Never hold back now! Cookies need more of us!"

hollyberry cookie is your biggest cheerleader. the moment your powers manifested, she was already planning a celebration in your honor. dialing everybody to come to your party, dialing fine arts to paint you 500 paintings to post as relics for guild museums. hollyberry throws a massive feast, complete with stories, music, and enough food to feed an army.

she insists on sparring with you, but it’s less about testing your strength and more about having fun. she laughs heartily every time you manage to surprise her.

she brags about you to anyone who will listen. “did you see them? that’s MY friend! stronger than ten hundred cookies combined!" she makes sure everyone knows how proud she is of you.

— Pure Vanilla

"My dear friend... I am so proud of you."

if you thought the others were so sweet, then you haven't seen the purest cookie of them all speak. they aren't even close to what our kings got! pure vanilla is absolutely overjoyed and emotional about your transformation. he probably tears up when he sees the extent of your growth.

he becomes even more protective of you, not because he doubts your strength, but because he knows the burden that comes with such power. he spends a lot of time talking to you about balance, reminding you to care for yourself as much as you care for others. pure vanilla is your go-to for advice on controlling your powers. he offers patient guidance and reassures you during moments of self-doubt.

he's not one to give you an extravagant celebration, because it's not his right to do such things. he'll buy you celebratory gifts on his own though, but considering this cookie is absolutely rich idk how many small gifts becomes one too many. purevanilla won't even talk about the awakening to anyone if you tell him not to!

BEASTS —

— Shadow Milk

"Oh, so you've decided to stop pretending you're ordinary?"

sure you've gotten your strongest potential, but for beasts it isn't really a problem considering they are much stronger than normal cookies. hes not impressed at all. he thrives on making others doubt themselves, and your newfound strength is no exception. (do not bring up golden cheese vs burning spice he could've won she got plot armor and although I'm happy she's alive him winning made more sense)

despite his dismissive attitude, he’s intrigued. he watches you closely, studying your every move, though he’d never admit it. “you’re an interesting little puzzle,” he mutters, half to himself. being all supernatural and ultra powerful doesn't protect you from this beasts horrifying teases, he'll ask you if you're a princess now or if you can talk to animals, that's like 2 from the several nonsense he's asked you daily.

he's actually quite hittable, hit him he won't hit back honestly, but if you ever call him unfunny? he's weeping and rolling on the floor (as a joke) saying "YOU MAY HAVE GOTTEN A LITTLE BIT STRONGER, BUT UR SENSE OF HUMOR WILL ALWAYS BE WEAK"

— Burning Spice

"That's it? I expected more!"

he actually gets intrigued fast, just like his counterpart he is also interested in strength. considering how he got wrecked by his counterpart because of her awakening, he might actually use his time to train with you.

burning spice is all about fighting everything until there is nothing left to fight, he'll push his limits. even yours! just say when u need a break, he'll say something corny like "I expected more!" and then run off and wait until ur done doing weak cookie stuff. hes not inhumane, hes just like you. it may feel unreal be he was once just a bunch of dough until the soul jam was created.

— Mystic Flour

"the world remains unchanged."

wins the idgaf war, she lost from that guy, but does not wish to prove herself again. mystic flour does not want to pressure herself with more nonsense, and probably doesn't want to for you either.

she recognizes your strength with a simple "impressive" or "fascinating" without putting much emotion into her words, then never look into it ever again.

Silent Salt and Eternal Sugar do not seem to be here, try again later?

[grimm-writings]

Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?

Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?

beauty/beast

…ft! falin x gn! reader

…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness

…wc! 2789

…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad… 

One

You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.

It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills.  If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle.  Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.

Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.

So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong!  After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?

Very hard, actually.  Like… incredibly.

You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs!  At least that much is out of the way.

As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.

Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!

Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work!  When it comes to your study?  Not so much.

The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge.  That being, to tame a beast.  Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?

One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off.  Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well!  (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)

That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink.  Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!

So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor.  Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink!  Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!

You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you.  Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place.  You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.

A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone.  If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head.  Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.

Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.

Two

‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.

You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again.  Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.

To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure.  With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.

You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.

Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so.  What would its feathers feel like?  Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head?  You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster?  What of its body heat?  What is its diet?

Ah.  Diet.

Your own body stops walking in realisation.  By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?

Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.

Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag.  Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce.  One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity.  If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.

You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side.  It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it!  Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!

If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.

You promptly shake off the thought.

What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near.  It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around.  Aw, is it scared of humans?  That’s just adorable!  Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search…  Now that’d be some juicy stuff!  Who’s the chimera’s prey?  Another monster, or humans?

Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait.  You’re not a coward!

You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it.  Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.

You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.

Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter.  Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more.  I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations.  The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural.  Even now, it looks too… human.  I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on.  It suits her.  She truly is magnificent.   All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both.  A disgustingly beautiful transformation.  To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug.  Deliberately done to appease someone, something.  A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.

Three

You feel less in control of your studies these days.

The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel.  But, for the sake of research, you power through.

The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you.  When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets.  She calms down occasionally.  Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails.  You cleaned her using the mana-infused water.  She had never looked so calm.

She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.

This scares you.

Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.

But that also means you’re losing your resolve.

The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood.  Her upper body leans on you, resting.  You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.

She’s so cute.

Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you.  You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you.  She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.

You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.

Four words.  She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her.  You’re speechless.  She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.

The moment is quickly ruined.  “Dragon!”  A boyish voice calls.  “There you are.  You’ve been leaving my side so frequently.  There’s no time to–”

An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you.  His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.

You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion.  She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up.  He swats at her, before pointing at you.

“Kill them,” he demands her.

She hesitates.  You also find yourself unable to move.  So the chimera is under someone’s control after all.  This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.

You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat.  Tighter and tighter.  Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.

Snap.

You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.

Day ??: “My name is Falin.��� The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another.  She has a name.  A beautiful name that belongs just to her.  Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not.  She is under the control of that elf.  I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord.  They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along.  I neglected to mention Falin’s current state.  I couldn’t do that to him right now.  Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you.  That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.

Four

Today, you met Laios Touden.

He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.

You met a lot of people, actually.  You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.

“You’ve seen Falin?”  He asks you, brow creased.  He had leaned forward in interest.  Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.

You nod.  “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.

Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply.  You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.

“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply.  Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing.  You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”

Kabru furrows his brow.  “Excuse me?”

His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle.  Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.

You merely smile.

“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you.  Falin steps forward, cornering you.  You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.

Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love.  I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love.  I do not see his wishes badly.  In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable.  Dark magic is dangerous.  As is love.  He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man.  I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal.  Who knew monsters could taste so nice?  Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic.  Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought.  I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward.  I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.

Five

The ice is cold underneath your fingertips.  The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep.  To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.

You turn to Marcille as she approaches.  “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this.  Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”

The blonde elf is sheepish.  “I did end up causing a right mess in the end.  It… It was selfish of me.”

“It was love,” you reply.

“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.

You both stare up at her in silence.  If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.

“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been.  “Is that alright with you?”

Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide.  For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?

“I…”  She hesitates.  Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands.  “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses.  I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”

You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.

You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey.  Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is.  An untamed beauty.  Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.

She’s simply Falin.

“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand.  She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily.  “Let’s go eat, okay?  For Falin.”

You smile back.  “For Falin.”

I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today.  Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her.  The beauty behind the beast. Ha.  I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too?  No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.

the first time

Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door.  Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha.  People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden.  You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.

The woman is sitting calmly at her bed.  Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.

She glances up at you, examining your form.

You’re taller than she thought.

“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.

Falin takes it.  Her fingers brush against your own.  She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers.  She smiles warmly.  “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns.  It’s so sweet that you might melt.  “My name is Falin.  It’s nice to meet you.”

You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.

Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”

Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[cottonlemonade]

can i have a menu a with a soda and dorayaki and sit next to oikawa!!!

Keeping Your Enemy Close

word count: 1460 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, school festival with rival Oikawa

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Never, actually.”

Oikawa pouted, “Iwa-chan.” and then looked to Makki and Mattsun who immediately developed an immense interest in their shoes and surroundings. The four third years were busy leaning against a rickety folding table underneath a banner advertising the volleyball club, but even though many girls came over to check it out, boys seemed to make a wide swerve around them. They had only gotten three possible new applicants thus far.

“What do you think, Oikawa-san?”

The boys groaned when, with a wide smile and a flourish, Oikawa turned to yet another girl who had asked. She was nervously kneading her hands and blushing furiously. They knew her as a new addition to his fanclub, but to be honest they started to blend together for the other three. All gorgeous and leggy, she was definitely the captain’s usual type. Oikawa leaned in to whisper something in her ear they luckily couldn’t hear, then the girl gasped quietly and nodded before linking her arm with her friend and wandering off, throwing longing gazes over her shoulder at the setter, who waved after her.

“I think I’ll give it another week and then I’ll ask her out.”, he said, half to himself, half to his friends who quite frankly, couldn’t care less.

But a loud scoff came from their left and the boys turned to see their chubby class president with folded arms next to a stall handing out flyers.

“Something the matter, y/n-chan?”, Oikawa asked sweetly.

“Don’t call me that.”, you said automatically but the boy only grinned and regarded you with his signature teasing gaze.

“But you seem to like it, hm? Y/n-chan~ Now, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the flyers in your hands tighter in an attempt to control your breathing. “I just pity her, that’s all.”, you said after calming your heart a bit.

“Hm? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not because you want to go out with me?”

You knew you would get in trouble if someone reported you smacking him over the head with the flyers - again. So you resorted to glaring menacingly.

Because you didn’t have an answer.

Because you wanted nothing more, actually, than to have Oikawa Tooru notice you like that and ask you out.

But you would never tell him.

Instead you changed the subject and focused on the only thing that grounded your sanity.

“Tuck in your shirt before I write you up.”

Oikawa sighed and did as he was told, making very sure to slightly lift the shirt first to give you a glimpse of his toned stomach. He smirked when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

“So how about it, y/n-chan?”, he asked while carefully straightening out his uniform, “Should I take you out for a date? We could go to a park, maybe hold hands if you're nice to me and if you’re really nice to me I might even consider giving you a kiss or two.” He winked. He enjoyed this game way too much.

Iwaizumi, Mattsun and Makki had stepped aside, getting out of the way of your wrath.

“I would never.”, you held tighter onto the flyers for support, hoping your voice wouldn’t fail you as you went on, “I would never go out with someone as vain and arrogant and immature as you. You’re nothing but a volleyball obsessed gymnasium-dweller who happened to have slightly above average looks.”

Oikawa took that personally. He only stared wide eyed as you stomped away.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Mattsun as he shrugged, ”Well at least she thinks you’re handsome.”

Iwaizumi frowned, “That’s what you got from that?”

Oikawa knew you didn’t mean it. At this point, he could tell the difference between someone genuinely despising his guts and someone who was only trying to hide their true feelings. To be honest, you weren’t on his mind outside of school and even then he mostly drifted off while you made announcements in front of the class. To him you were just there, clearly in denial about your crush on him because of course he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he would go out with you, he thought. If only to prove a point. He wanted you to be putty in his hands and confess that you were into him, just so he could go a day without getting written up for things like untucking his shirt or kissing behind the gym.

He watched you weave your way through the masses of students and parents, all happily chattering and checking out the different offers from the stands at the school festival. And making up his mind, he went after you.

He found you in an empty classroom, carefully putting some kind of announcement on the blackboard, your hand steady, writing neat and precise.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

He heard you sigh before turning to him.

“What is it?”

He stepped in, closing the door behind him to mute the distant voices of students hurrying through the corridors.

Leaning against the only exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, he said, “I wasn’t kidding, you know. About taking you on a date.”

You made some kind of sound that was probably supposed to be a scathing one but instead came out as a squeaky sort of cough. Pushing off the door he swaggered over to you until he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t looked at him yet.

“Hm? Y/n? What do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”

His voice was low and sweet - he knew this particular tone usually made his girlfriends melt and he was glad to see that it worked on you as well. He extended a hand to half trap you between him and the blackboard for good measure. Goosebumps formed on your neck and when you finally turned around to him, there was a very distinct blush dusting your cheeks in stark contrast to your sour expression, the desperate attempt of returning his sweetness with disgust.

“Stop it, Oikawa-san.”

“Or what?” He leaned down to meet your eyes, leaving only two or three handwidths between your face and his. He could smell your shampoo. It was a pleasant scent, eucalyptus maybe.

When you didn’t say anything but the pink on your cheeks turned a deeper shade he leaned in further. He felt your shaky shallow breath on his skin.

When he didn’t budge, you closed your eyes and… seemed to wait.

Oikawa couldn’t help it and chuckled. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lowered his head before throwing it back in full on laughter.

“I knew it! I knew it, y/n-chan.”, he sing-songed, not moving away, “Next time you write me up just-“

He was cut off but your lips on his. It was nothing more than a quick peck but it definitely shut him up.

You must have worn some kind of lip gloss or chapstick - the kiss left a faintly fruity taste behind.

He blinked. What was that?

And you were about to duck away when his free hand held you by your waist and he leaned in for a second kiss, catching you by surprise this time. It was again a sweet, innocent kind of kiss, only gently touching the other’s lips. When he moved away he searched your eyes for a moment and you held your breath when he went for a third. Closing his eyes, he really let himself get a feel and sense for you. The hand previously laid against the blackboard now cupped your cheek to draw you closer. He swiped his tongue against your lower lips and gently pushed into your mouth. He tasted the tangerine ramune that stood next to your notes on the teacher’s desk. This didn’t make any sense. It was not the tangerine that made him dizzy. You were… addictive. How?

Propelled by some unknown bravery your hands ran through his hair, drawing an involuntary hum from deep in his throat. His large hand on your waist squeezed and he moved in closer, needing to feel more. But before he could conduct further studies you pushed him away, panting slightly - your lips reddened and hair a little disheveled. He was too stunned to stop you when you weaseled out of his arms and ran out the door.

“Oikawa-san?”, he heard a familiar voice call from the corridor, “Oh, Oikawa-san, there you are. Do you want to come have some lunch with me?”

It was the girl from earlier. “Coming.”, he said quietly, absentmindedly and followed her, still tasting tangerines.

a/n: thank you so so much for your request! This one got so away from me. I hope you enjoyed it tho 🌟

[thought--bubble]

Subtraction

Michael Gavey X (Preacher's Daughter Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,886

Banners by @arcielee

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings:: Corruption Kink, Oral sex (M receiving), Fingering, dubcon, coercion, religious guilt

A/N: This was really fun to write because I'm a math gal myself 🤣

Based on THIS request.

Michael is walking on clouds today. As far as he is concerned, today is a great fucking day.

He has been working as a tutor all semester trying to plump up his resume so he can go for that TA position he knows is going to open up next autumn.

Thus far, every student he has worked with is an airhead. The worst was Farleigh, who didn't actually want to learn anything and would just wait until Michael spoon fed him the answers and take off as soon as the assignment was finished.

But today, today Michael was told he was going to tutor you. The cutest little thing he has ever laid eyes on. With your mid-thigh length plaid skirts, high socks, and little cardigans, it was like you walked out straight out of his dreams and into Oxford.

You were a pastors daughter. Prim and proper, always walking around with that little silver cross hanging from your neck. Michael had spotted you as soon as school had started, and it only took about a month before the dreaded Felix Catton had set his sights on you. As if it wasn't bad enough that Michael's only friend Oliver had already been wrapped up in Felix's little web now, Michael had to watch that web get spun around you.

Which is why it came as such a big surprise when you turned him down. Felix had been trying for weeks to hook up with you. Following you around like a puppy, it made Michael sick. Couldn't Felix see how special you are? How could he treat you as just another name in his little black book?

Michael's vindication came in the form of a very public rejection where you called out Felix for "only wanting one thing" in the courtyard for multiple students and staff to see.

The public embarrassment this afforded Felix only made Michael more enamored with you. He found himself constantly daydreaming of you. He imagined you sitting on his lap as he kissed you. Your pure innocent lips on his never having been soiled by another man's touch. He imagines pushing up that little plaid skirt and sinking his fingers deep into that cunt, sweet. Innocent, and just for him.

Michael was feeling a bit nervous as he sat and waited for you in the library. He knew his personality left a lot to be desired. If there was anyone in this wretched place, he didn't want to scare off with his brashness it was you.

"Just be normal. Just be normal, " he whispers to himself as he continues to wait, fingers tapping on the thick wooden table.

"She was supposed to be here by now," he wonders aloud. She didn't show up because it's me probably. She's heard all the horror stories of me being annoying or weird. I've already ruined it before I had a chance to meet her. Well, if she's going to be like that, then I wouldn't want her anyway. She's just like all these other posh Neanderthals. Judging someone before they've even properly gotten to know them.

Michael's brain continues to rattle off thought after thought bouncing between sadness, rejection, and anger, as he glares toward the entry to the library picking at the table with his fingernail.

Then you walk in, books clung tightly to your chest, a pink and gray pleated skirt, white knee high socks and those cute black shoes with the straps, a pink cardigan and shining in the light the dainty silver cross you're never seen without.

He sits up straighter, clearing his throat, as he subtly shifts his books, notebooks, and pens on the table.

"Michael?" Your voice sounds so sweet to Michael that he has to force himself not to salivate.

"Yes. That's me, I take it you're my new pupil?" Keep calm, Gavey. Don't act like a creep. He repeats these two rules to himself while sporting a look of indifference on his face.

You reach your hand out to him and tell him your name. He takes your hand and shakes it. So small, soft, and delicate. Perfect hands. Just the right size to be engulfed by Michael's rather sizable hands, he thinks to himself.

"Hello?" You look at him questioningly as he stares at you while absent-mindedly continuing to shake your hand for far longer than was necessary.

What you didn't know was in Michael's head he was all over you, he had you bent over this wooden table, skirt pushed up to reveal your rounded bum, him sliding himself in and out of your body while you begged him for more.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, and his cheeks burn crimson when he realizes he is still shaking your hand. "Right.. umm" he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and pulls on the collar of his shirt. The heat on his face has traveled to his chest.

As you sit, he can't help but watch you. You're so gentle from the way you sit to the way you place your books on the table.

"So what specifically are you struggling with?" He already knows she is failing the class in its entirety, but he can't seem to find another way to initiate conversation.

You whimper, and Michael just about dies

"Everything. Every single thing." You put your hands over your face clearly stressed.

"Oh. Well, we will start from the beginning then." Michael starts with what he thinks will be the easiest, basic statistics.

Even with this, you struggle greatly, the hours spent in the library do prove beneficial but only slightly and the novelty of being with you has started to wear off for Michael due to the sheer shock of how bad you are at this.

Michael rubs his temples, his head just barely hovering over the wood of the library table. "Did they not touch on any of this in secondary school?"

"They did, I wasn't any good there either, but I was able to make it up in other ways"

Michael lifts his head and looks at you quizzically. "Other ways?"

"Extra credit, community service, church duty." You explained this as if it was perfectly normal to pass maths because you picked up an extra shift helping at the church.

Michael blinks as he blankly stares back at you. "Right.......of course...... obviously......"

He looks around the library and sees it's mostly cleared out. "Well they'll be kicking us out of here any minute now" He sighs as he closes the books on the table packing up to leave, relieved that this elongated torture session has come to a close.

You stand up nervously. "No!" You didn't mean to shriek, but you did, voice reverberating around the nearly empty library.

"The quiz is in two days! I..... I can't fail! My father! He will....... oh no, please! Keep going. I'll do anything!"

Michael immediately stops moving and fights the small smirk, clawing its way across his features. Anything. I'll do anything. The words float through his mind like a beautiful song he has been waiting to hear.

Anything.

"Well, you could come back to my dorm, and we could continue......." He starts as he looks around sheepishly.

"Yes! Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you, Michael!" You excitedly collect the rest of your things from the table.

"But," Michael interjects. "We will have to....... make the process more interesting because i was nearly falling asleep a moment ago"

"Sure! whatever you suggest." You beam a smile at him, and he smirks. Oh, he has a suggestion that will keep both of them awake.

Michael opens the door to his dorm, holding his arm out and gesturing for you to go first.

You enter the room and look around. It's extremely neat. No personal effects save for a photo of Michael and his parents.

Michael walks in behind you, closing the door and setting his books down on the small table in the corner.

"Sit." He motions toward the chair across from him.

You place your books down on the table and slowly lower yourself into the chair.

" So I have an idea...... that might give you the proper.... motivation" his eyes travel up and down your form, and he slightly bites on his bottom lip before he continues. "I'm going to show you an example problem. Then I'm going to give you the same type of problem to solve. If you get it right, i remove an article of clothing. If you get it wrong, you do"

"Oh! umm Michael.... I'm not sure. " You nervously wring your hands in your lap. You are terrible at maths you would surely end up naked in no time.

"You said anything, and this will keep me awake. We could always just call it for the night......" He trails off looking to the side.

"Wait! no! ok"

Michael smirks. "Ok, then let's get started.

As expected, you get most answers wrong first, taking off your shoes, socks, and earrings. When you finally get one right, Michael chuckles and takes off his belt.

"Good, good. See? What did I tell you? proper motivation." He scoots his chair forward, a bit closing the space between you.

A few more problems later you are sitting there in nothing but a bra and panties Michael in his shirt and boxers.

As you try to focus on the current problem, you can't help but be distracted by the rather sizable bulge in his boxers.

"T-there," your voice faulters as you slide the paper back towards Michael for his review. He looks it over quickly.

"Sorry darling, that's not quite it." He leans forward, explaining where you went wrong with the formula.

"Oh." You feel the heat pool in your cheeks as you unlatch your bra. Trying to cover your breasts as you remove it.

Michael's eyes light up as he takes in your almost nude form. The bulge in his boxers becomes even more apparent as he races to write you up a new problem.

"What happens when I run out of clothes?" You know, at this point, it is an inevitability that you will end up completely nude, but you are learning and starting to get problems correct. If you can learn just enough to pass the quiz, you could possibly save your grade in this class.

"We will figure something out between the two of us, I'm sure." He brings his hand down to your knee, gently rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You focus completely on the next math problem, trying desperately to hold off the inevitable removal of your panties.

"Bravo!" Michael cheers as you slide a math problem done correctly over to him. "Guess you survive this round" He stands up from the chair and pulls his boxers off, exposing his fully erect cock.

You mean to look away. You should look away, right? That would be the polite thing to do but you can't. He is long and girthy and painfully hard.

He gently rubs at himself, watching you watch him. "Hmmm, next problem," he slides the paper over to you.

"Right, of course." You take the paper and try to focus on the problem as your eyes consistently slide back towards him as he strokes himself slowly.

"I don't mind if you look" He rubs his thumb over the slit and the tip of his cock spreading the precum around the head.

Your entire face flushes with heat. "I wasn't, ummm." You look back at the problem trying to work it out. You feel like you are writing hieroglyphics, as if you have never seen these symbols before.

"Well, that's incorrect, sorry." Michael grins happily as he waits for you to remove your final article of clothing.

"I can't. I can't expose that. " You nervously rub your palms against your thighs.

"How about we just do this?" Michael leans forward and slides your panties to the side.

Your eyes go wide, and you make a loud gulping sound.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Michael runs a finger up your slit feeling the obvious wetness there. "From what I gather, you seem to be enjoying this"

He collects some of your slick and brings it up to your pearl, drawing slow circles around the nerve.

"Oh!" You instantly close your eyes. You have touched yourself before. Something you would always pray for forgiveness for right after, but this felt different. Micheal's large finger and course fingertip make the sensation more intense, and your body instantly reacts, wanting more.

"Ahh." You breathe out as Michael applies more pressure to your bud, increasing the speed at which he applies that pressure.

Michael leans forward, completely kissing up the side of your neck. "It's ok. I won't tell anyone."

"I .... I have to remain chaste. " You moan as he slides a finger into you while holding the pressure down on your bud.

"There are things we can do without....... breaking the seal..... just relax, " He whispers into your ear as he continues sliding his finger against your walls.

You feel the pleasure building up in your lower stomach and instinctually spread your legs wider.

"That's it, good girl, I'm going to make you feel really good, ok?"

Your head rolls back as the pressure continues to build, the guilt in your mind losing to the pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Micheal moves his thumb quickly against your clit and pushes against the spongey spot inside your walls and sends you into a tailspin.

"Oh, Michael! Michael!" You gasp as the pressure in your stomach pulls taught, threatening to snap at any moment.

"I got you, let go for me, beautiful." As he whispers these words into your ear, the band snaps.

"Ahhhh, Mich-" You can't get the words out as your jaw goes slack and your entire body vibrates.

Michael continues his movements while you ride out your high, only pulling his hand away once you whimper at the overstimulation.

Michael takes your juices and rubs them on his cock as he slowly strokes himself. "That was glorious, you look so pretty when you cum"

You watch him touch himself with curiosity. "I can teach you more than maths." he says suddenly as he increases the pace of his movements.

"Come here." He motions you toward him, and like a puppet on a string, you go to him. You have already gone this far. What is stopping you now?

"Get on your knees." You quickly comply, dropping to your knees before him.

"Good, think you are going to learn this much quicker" He brings the weeping head of his cock to your lips.

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip you had heard of oral sex before. Kind of had a decent idea of what it entailed.

Michael groans. "Open up and flip your lips over your teeth."

You follow his instructions and he slides his cock into your mouth pushing past your lips. "Good, good, breath through your nose."

He grips the hair at the top of your head slowly dragging you forward pushing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Use your tongue beautiful" He sighs with pleasure as you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So fucking good." The grip on your hair tightens as he pushes further hitting the back of your throat, earning him a gag.

"What a pretty sound," He coos as he starts to move his hips while holding your head in place.

"Just like that." His breathing gets heavier as his speed increases. "Fuck, yes. Look at me" He grunts as he starts to batter the back of your throat with his cockhead.

You look up at him with tears streaking down your face and drool slipping from your chin.

"Almost there." He wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "So pretty when you cry"

Michael grips your hair tight, pushing himself fast and hard into your throat.

"You're gonna swallow what I give you" You do your best to attempt to nod while he fucks your face, pushing himself as far as he will go, the hairs at his base coming in contact with your nose and chin.

"That's it right there...... FUCK!" Michael spurts directly into your throat. You hardly have to swallow at all.

He pulls himself out of your mouth and smiles down at you, wiping the drool off of your chin.

"Think we can call it a night, yeah?" He pulls his boxers up and collapses back in the chair a look of lazy satisfaction on his face.

"Yeah, that might be best." You wipe the tears from your face and gather your clothes.

"There are still two more days before the quiz. Come back tomorrow, and we can continue." Michael gets out of the chair and wraps his arms around you from behind, gently kissing your neck.

"I love teaching you. Tell me you'll come back tomorrow."

You blush at his words, "Yes, I'll be back tomorrow"

Micheal sees you out and watches as you walk down the hallway and disappear out of sight before going back into his room and flopping onto his bed with a contented sigh before he chuckles to himself.

"I got what Felix couldn't"

To be added to a tag list click here

[ianr36]

I will miss all of you but I think I’ve come to the conclusion that most here are bots. I really don’t get it! lol I will be deleting this app, and going old school face to face.

I’ve been nailed with requests for money looking over the fact that I’m looking for something real.

I feel sorry for all the fat short hairy guys with the little dicks that fall for this shit. You are the ones that are crying about being scammed so get to know them a bit -& ask some basic questions.

Also think with your head not your D. Not your ego. Be comfortable in your own skin. Have some discernment. The first question should be if most people in middle school have cell phones. Why do you not?

Q-Why don’t you have a mobile?

A-it broke, got stolen and the best one is it doesn’t matter. Lmfao!

(My kids have had one since 8?)

-I love you!

(Oh really? Even though we’ve never spoke)

-I’m not like the other girls.

(Yet you use the same script?) Holy wow!

Damn I imagine there are multiple call centers and as a business man I can respect that but as a human I cannot. So I cannot participate in this $hit! This is slavery and I can’t do it!

Both sides are being fed lies (bot, hooker or John) and it’s a shame that a platform that has the possibility to facilitate real change to occur, is being bulldozed by losers that don’t care about human lives.

Before you reply- please look at my previous posts regarding this and at a minimum let’s have some adult discourse

If you’ve gotten thus far, then you realize that I love humans I don’t care what gender you are. I fought for you in war multiple times.

You can say whatever you want whenever you want and I will always fight for that right for everyone.

Just don’t lie and try to play people that you don’t know- that this is a charade. it’s so easily identifiable.

Furthermore, why would you not want somebody to care for you? That’s intelligent enough to identify it if you were actually real? That’s a reasonable question right?

Let’s hear it? I want to think that a lot of you want true love, just cause I’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean I will be hurt again. That’s like someone trying to say that I tried to go in a business once and it didn’t work so I just gave up and went to slutting myself out.

If you just wanna slut yourself out there and treat yourself as a used tire-to each their own I’m all about that! Do what you do! I’m not a KIA.

But if you think for a moment that a guy who signed up to die for his country & opens doors for people and loves everyone no matter what can turn off the desire for wanting to spoil a special human, then please readiness that. Ffor anyone that is real on here and realizes that I am an open book and we could probably learn a lot from one another and grow together. I’m game for that conversation.. I feel so bad, but maybe I’m the one who needs to read more books! I’m game to talk for the next 24 hrs before I delete this app

But I have to be very upfront that I only like feminine women and that doesn’t matter what gender you were assigned to when you were born I don’t care bc I’ve dated models that are boring and numb and some girls that are amazing but I’m not desperate and I know my girl is out there.

(Sorry a lot of this was voice to text so if you have questions ask)

[adelphenium]

ok i don’t AT ALL want this to be aggressive or pressury, but genuinely curious what percent of reqs you do/how you decide if you want to do one? i love everything you do and have submitted 3-4 reqs and you haven’t bitten on any of them which is totally your prerogative and again i love and appreciate all of your art and the fact that you share it with us, but i had a moment of being like, are my asks going through or are my asks just not what you’re vibing? ok i think you’re great goodbye for now! 💕

helloo and thank you for the ask!!

i have to say, i don't have much of a coherent process when it comes to answering requests -- sometimes i'll get an ask with my favourite teams/players that i'll feel inspired to do right away, and sometimes i'll leave them and save 'em up for later! other times i'll want to try out different teams or get to reqs that are more time-specific (e.g. trades, injuries) but then i'll forget about them and miss my chance 😭😭 while i do have players + scenarios i'm not comfortable with drawing, that actually hasn't been much of an issue thus far.

i currently have in my inbox, let's see...

uh. erm. 87.... and i also have some more started up in my drafts.........

i'm sorry to hear that i haven't gotten to any of your reqs; it's likely just me going through my asks randomly rather than being any systematic sort of issue !!

as much as i'd love to get to all of my reqs, realistically, i don't expect that i'll be able to complete them all...... i only have so much time for my hobbies as i'm also in school and working :")

if you'd really really like a certain piece, you can also consider commissioning me, though i understand that's not always feasible for everyone -- hopefully i'll be able to get to at least one of your reqs some time soon! tysm for asking + take care lovely anon!

[yandere-fics]

Very spooky request. Witch reader with the whole kingdom cast after her.

The Kingdom wants them due to their skill. At least that's what they say to the other court nobles. Totally not because they're such a nice charming bby that always is so kind to them. Theanna totally didn't fall in love with them when she was still seeking ways to take the throne. Their smile and laugh a stark contrast to the whining and complaining of her courtiers. And Abigail and Ainsly totally didn't get enamored when they showed their skills and abilities defeating raging beasts and protecting some children who ran just a bit too far into the forest when playing. Elisha is also adamant that she only goes to the witch for their help in healing her wounds. Totally not because when she looks into their eyes she sees the finest jewels she's ever seen. That evil dragon is the only one that seeks out the witch. The court says it's to hinder the kingdom's prosperity, but in actuality it's because whenever Veronia and reader run into each other they give her some bangin biscuits and pastries. Also she sometimes stays the night and cuddles with Veronia :3c.

(Okay I love how this sort of feels like reader literally only really likes Veronia. Had to change it a bit with Theanna since she already had a mage. She recruited Ainsley at the age of 12 cause she was girlbossing. I was a bit goofier with this request, it was a bit less dark than other things. Ainsley is excluded because if everyone else were pining for her darling like this, they'd be dead, she has no loyalty even though she's in Theanna's squad.)

♡ Them With A Sweet Witch Darling ♡

♡ Theanna always feared those with magic when she was younger, before she knew better. At the time of your meeting there was always the fear that should she come into contact with someone who had magic, they'd be able to see the copious amounts of spells that she had on her, and possibly dispel them, though that way highly unlikely as Ainsley always reassured her. Thus upon your first meeting she was hesitant to get close to you, despite you being known as extremely friendly and loveable to all the villagers. ♡

♡ When she first approached you it was with ulterior motives, having the witch who was beloved by her citizens on her side would only be one more reason for her to be made successor. She liked you enough but that was the extent of it. She really didn't think much more about your interactions until she really took the throne and realized she would need a wife. A kind wife, and she realized you'd been the only one to truly be kind to her before she became heir to the throne. ♡

♡ That totally was all there was to it. She needed a wife and you were perfect for the role. Yeah, she's kind of stupid and doesn't realize if that's all there was to it then she wouldn't have forced you to move your house to the capital and she wouldn't have assigned her best knight to watch over you secretly(R.I.P. to Abigail, she'll never get a break) ♡

♡ She was kind of upset when you became common knowledge to the people. You had been the first person she had truly gotten close to when she arrived in the world, seeing as you always treated all of her wounds. She liked having you be her safe haven in the forest so hearing you had moved to the capital was extremely frustrating because now you would be treating other people's wounds. ♡

♡ She had tried her best for years to convince you to join her on her travels as a healer, totally only as a healer, and yet you had chosen to move to the capital just because the crown princess asked you to? Needless to say the adventurer is now on bad terms with the rest of the kingdom. ♡

♡ At a certain point they have to weigh their options, they can either have the lovable witch, or the dragon slayer. They chose you, lol. Elisha really needs to hatch a plan to take you to another kingdom but with your rizz, they'd probably also try to take you. You'll never be Elisha's secret again. ♡

♡ Abigail is fine with being your knight, honestly she would have tried to guard you when you moved to the capital anyways. She knew being a witch would make adjusting to capital life difficult and you were almost a minor celebrity so you needed security. That's all there was to it. ♡

♡ She's oblivious to how she feels, simply believing her feelings towards you are just wanting to protect the future queen, one of the most skilled warriors she's ever met and she would never ever take the queen away from her closest friend, right? ♡

♡ Be still heart, she can't allow herself to love, she'll have to settle for being your admirer and guard. Maybe, hopefully Theanna dies before you so in your later years as a widow, you can move into her estate and she can have you close to you. ♡

♡ The kingdom has committed an act of war by having you move to the capital. She can't have her mate be so far away. It was bad enough when you lived in the forest and had people visit you at random. She was allowing that to happen though because you always returned to her at the end of the day. You were happy to see her right? So why then did you move to the capital?! ♡

♡ It's alright cause you still visit her with your cookies every week, and she knows that the people keeping you in the capital will be oulived by you so you will one day return to the forest with her and she'll hold you there forever. ♡

♡ All she must do is have patience. ♡

[jaimebluesq]

hiiiii. remember that post we discussed where jin guangyao mistakenly gets the idea nie huaisang is the same kind of libertine as his father and is trying so hard not to let his feelings about it show that he just keeps stressing himself out more? and then it turns out the brothel workers aren't sex partners, they're novel/art collaborators?

(i swear im not asking for a full fic. one little scene is *plenty*.)

Yes! I'm more than happy to oblige :D I hope you enjoy this, and happy birthday!

~ ~ ~

Meng Yao was seriously questioning all of his life choices.

It has seemed a good idea to come to Qinghe Nie after his efforts to join Lanling Jin had been thwarted. At first it had seemed the Nie were just as bad as every other cultivator, judging him for his mother’s profession, until Nie Mingjue had proven to be above such things. Meng Yao had happily taken advantage of the new opportunity presented to him to try and make himself invaluable to his sect leader, hoping that under Nie Mingjue, his hard work would speak for itself. And his life had been going well! Even when he’d been assigned to occasionally wrangle his sect leader’s little brother, what had first seemed to be a punishment became a boon because he soon discovered that very few people were trusted enough to allow close to the Nie brothers. Nie Huaisang had almost immediately adopted Meng Yao as another older brother, despite them being quite similar in age, and Meng Yao came to realize he actually enjoyed doting on him in return.

There had only been one problem: the sweet boy he’d taken a shining to was a Jin Guangshan in the making. At first it had been subtle, him noticing Nie Huaisang’s occasional lustful and lascivious glance toward women and men alike, though his looks were always well-disguised so as not to clue in the object of his affections. Then there had been the spring books – so many spring books – that always seemed to be open to the most lewd images whenever Meng Yao visited his young master’s bedroom. Finally, it had been the brothel visits. That had been the last straw for Meng Yao, the moment he’d truly begun shaking his head at his charge’s future and wondering what he had gotten himself into coming to Qinghe Nie. Had he adopted a ‘didi’ only to watch him become his father? One time, Nie Mingjue had asked him to accompany Nie Huaisang on one of his visits to the Scarlet Veil, but Meng Yao had found an excuse to remain in the Unclean Realm. After Meng Yao had refused two more such requests, Nie Mingjue had stopped asking, which suited him just fine.

Until today. Technically, his sect leader had not asked him to accompany Nie Huaisang to the brothel – because Nie Huaisang was already there, and was late coming home. The disciple that had left with him had returned an hour ago, drunk and reeking of alcohol with no memory of having been accompanied by anyone, let alone his young master. And thus Nie Mingjue had come to Meng Yao and asked him to retrieve his brother because there were few others he trusted to do so while keeping his brother’s reputation intact.

How could Meng Yao refuse?

And now he stood before the brothel’s doors, dreading what he would find when he entered.

He hadn’t been to a brothel since he had left Yunping. They reminded him far too much of his childhood, walking down corridors to hear moans of pleasure and the occasional scream of pain when a client abused the courtesan who had taken them to bed, worrying every day that his mother would meet such a client and she would be taken from him. Fear that he would be forced into the same line of work despite his mother’s efforts to keep him from it. He respected the courtesans who worked such places – their clients were the ones who deserved his derision.

And unfortunately, sweet little Nie Huaisang was one such client.

He took a steeling breath before entering the Scarlet Veil and speaking to one of the ladies, introducing himself as a representative of Nie Mingjue and asking to speak with Nie Huaisang. He expected to be told to wait while they retrieved him – instead, the woman gave him a knowing smirk and waved for him to follow her down the corridor. He kept the disgust from his face as he imagined the worst, of walking in on Nie Huaisang in bed with a courtesan – this was a side of his young charge he did not want to see in person, but if it was what he needed to do to retrieve him, then he would suffer through it.

They approached a door at the end of the corridor and the woman told him that Nie Huaisang was inside, then she turned and left. She didn’t even have the courtesy to stand by as moral support as he entered whatever den of depravity lie beyond this door. He sighed and knocked to advertise his presence.

After several moments, the door was slid open just enough for a head to peek through. “Yes?” the woman asked, looking Meng Yao from head to toe. She was still fully dressed in silky green robes, her hair coiffed to perfection and her makeup immaculate.

“I’m here to retrieve Nie-gongzi,” he said with a smile to mask his displeasure.

“And you would be?”

“This one is Meng Yao.”

“Just a moment.” The door was slid shut and he could hear voices murmuring on the other side, but soon enough it was slid open all the way and the woman gave him a small bow. “Please come in. Nie-gongzi is just on the other side of the screen.”

The door was shut behind him as he moved into the room. The screen was rosewood with paper panels, each painted to portray an erotic act between two or more participants. He closed his eyes a moment as if that could prevent him from seeing whatever was in the room beyond the screen, but he had to open them eventually. He sighed and walked around it-

He froze.

“I know I’m late,” Nie Huaisang called out from a low table on the floor. “But I’m so close to being finished, I didn’t think Da-ge would mind too much.”

Nie Huaisang was kneeling and holding a paint brush, fully dressed in the same clothing he’d worn upon leaving the Unclean Realm. There was a courtesan seated to his left wearing black robes with lavender piping, and she held in her hand an ink stick which she ground in a bowl to produce a silky dark grey ink. Before them stood another courtesan, bare save for a diaphanous sash that was strategically placed to cover certain parts of her body, and she held still as if she had been a dancer caught mid-movement.

This... wasn’t what he’d expected.

He approached Nie Huaisang’s table and looked down to find several pieces of paper, all of which had been painted to show the three courtesans present in various poses and states of undress. The detail was exquisite – he had appreciated Nie Huaisang’s artistic talents before, but nothing Meng Yao had seen compared to what he was currently working on.

“I found the story!” The courtesan who had admitted Meng Yao approached with a sheaf of papers in her hand. “We wrote this one a month ago, and I think it will work perfectly with this set of paintings.”

Nie Huaisang excitedly took the papers from her hand and looked them over, then grinned. “You’re right, this one’s perfect! Do you think we’ll be able to get it finished in time?”

The courtesan nodded and sat to his right. “We promised the publisher a new book before the season was out, and this should satisfy him until we finish some of our more intricate pieces.”

Publisher? Story? Meng Yao’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Ah, where are my manners,” Nie Huaisang muttered, then looked up to Meng Yao. “A-Yao, these are Lady Zhou, Lady Yang, and Lady Wong. Ladies, this is Meng Yao – I’ve mentioned him before.”

The woman who had been grinding ink – Lady Yang – placed the ink stick onto the grinding bowl and wiped off her hands, then she stood up and bowed to him. “It is an honour, Meng Yao. Would you like to sit? We have some tea, if you like.”

Nie Huaisang tsked. “What did I tell you about there being no bows in this room.” He smiled at her affectionately and she giggled, then turned to fetch the tea.

Meng Yao slowly lowered himself to the table opposite Nie Huaisang. “May I ask, Nie-gongzi... what exactly is going on here?”

“What do you mean?” Nie Huaisang asked, pursing his lips as he lifted his brush to make another stroke upon his paper. “You’ve seen my spring books.”

“I’ve seen spring books in your room, yes...”

“Honestly, the first few I acquired were so badly drawn. Limbs out of proportion, bodies in unnatural positions... you would think the artist had never seen a naked woman before.”

“Neither had you, at the time,” Lazy Zhou teased with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but at least I had the sense to see one before putting ink to paper to draw one.”

“So...” Meng Yao paused, feeling as if he needed to reevaluate his entire worldview. “You’ve been coming to the brothel to paint.”

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“He’s being modest,” Lady Wong said from above – she shifted from where she’d been standing and stretched out her limbs. “He paints and writes most of the stories-”

“The three of you help!” Nie Huaisang protested.

“-and it was his idea to publish our own spring books,” Lady Wong finished.

“Now who’s being modest?” Nie Huaisang returned. “We all know the three of you are the sexual experts here – none of the sex scenes would be remotely legible if it weren’t for your experience.”

Lady Yang returned with the tea set and distributed cups, then patted Nie Huaisang’s head. “We keep telling you we’re more than happy to help you get some experience as well.”

Nie Huaisang’s face turned bright red. He picked up a cup and drank to avoid replying.

“He’s a romantic,” Lady Zhou said in an aside to Meng Yao. “Says he’s waiting for that special someone.”

Meng Yao blinked and looked to his charge. He had greatly misjudged him, and he swallowed down a small ball of guilt in the back of his throat. “And do the profits get back to the Unclean Realm?”

“Only a little,” Nie Huaisang replied, looking thankful for the change in subject. “Some of it pays for my visits here – sadly a courtesan’s time isn’t free, even if there’s no ‘business’ involved. And the rest they split among themselves.”

“Another year,” Lady Wong said with a hopeful smile, “and we might be able to buy our way out of here. We’re saving up, and... I can embroider, Lady Zhou paints fans, and Lady Yang has met a young man that wishes to marry her, but he’s poor and cannot buy out her contract.”

“She won’t let me do it either,” Nie Huaisang pouted and looked to Lady Yang. “But you can’t stop me from buying the fabric for your wedding robes when the time comes.”

Meng Yao looked from one person to another, then settled on Nie Huaisang. “You do know what people think you do here.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, a rare serious look upon his face. “Honestly, I prefer it that way. You know how people look down on me for my painting and for liking poetry and hating training my saber... I can just imagine what they’d think if they knew I’ve been coming here all this time and was still a virgin.”

The three courtesans looked at Meng Yao, and he realized they were protective of Nie Huaisang. They were waiting to see how he would react, to see if he would look down on him for his interests and what he did here, and perhaps for helping them.

Meng Yao took in a deep breath and reached out to take Nie Huaisang’s hand in his, and he could feel the corners of his eyes beginning to grow wet. “I knew your brother was more open-minded than most of his station, and I’m sorry for doubting you were as well. I wish there had been someone like you in Yunping, to help my mother when she needed it most.”

Nie Huaisang’s hand squeezed his back. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I know you’ve never judged me for my interests, but... I guess I’m just used to keeping it to myself. It’s nice to have secrets, sometimes.”

They shared a look, and all was well.

“So,” Meng Yao said, releasing Nie Huaisang’s hand and picking up the ink stick to take over grinding the ink, “what can I do to help?”

(The End!)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hello again my dear💕

I just saw that you posted two more stories of Deacon! I have to say i am really impressed. But what i wanted to ask you, do you have a favourite episode of Swat?

Sooo now to my new idea... i just thought about a Deacon x Reader 5+1. Like 5 times somebody norices Deacon is in love with reader and the last time he realizes himself. Everytime can be a different situation and the persons you can decide yourself.

But i would like it if you would take Annie as one of the 5. Like most of the time i prefer she didn't exist 😅 but well... not this time. So they are divorced and don't have children together. But she wants to go back to him, because for her the divorce was a mistake. So she shows up at work (Reader is Deacons Coworker) and accidently saw a moment between them and realizes that Deacon's belonged to someone else.

Can't wait for your next work!

Have a wonderfull day! ♥️

Hello again! (I love seeing your name in my inbox, your ideas are always the best!)

Posted! They See Deacon Loves You (5+1)!! I'll admit the title isn't great lol.

Thank you so so much for reading the fics and for the kinds words!🤍

So, I only started watching SWAT recently and have only gotten to mid-season 3. Thus far, my favorite episode is "Source" which is season 1 episode 19! I actually decided to use one of the characters from that ep, Irina Zemanova, as one of the five characters so I hope that is okay! I also really like "Immunity" (3x4) because it's all about Deacon. Do you have a favorite episode? I'd love to hear it if you do!!

This is an amazing idea!! Like you, I prefer ignoring Annie but I really love how you decided to incorporate her and I hope I did it how you wanted! Choosing five characters and creating five different situations was fun for me and I enjoyed the process a lot! The characters I chose were Hondo, Irina Zemanova, Commander Hicks, and Luca (in addition to Annie)! I also drew a little inspiration from "Seizure" (1x10) which was originally an Annie story line but I changed it to reader.

Thank you so much for this request; I've had a rough week and researching and creating characters and situations kept my mind off things and made my afternoon so much better! Your ideas are always amazing, and I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me any other ideas you have! I hope you have a wonderful week!🤍

[bills-bible-basics]

Is the Truth Social Network a Dud? #Christian #BibleStudy #Jesus Visit https://www.billkochman.com/Graphics-Library/ to see more. https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/is-the-truth-social-network-a-dud/ IS THE "TRUTH SOCIAL" NETWORK A DUD? -- My Firsthand Experience With the Truth Social Network As I have mentioned before, it took almost two weeks for me to get into the "Truth Social" social network once I had registered with them on my iPhone during the first week of March of 2022. If I recall correctly, my wait list number was 1,090,253, or something close to that. I don't remember the exact number now. I made a Facebook timeline post regarding my initial experience with Truth Social around the middle of March. Oddly enough, I can no longer find that particular post on my Facebook timeline. Or maybe it isn't so odd, considering how Facebook chooses to operate. Many of you reading this commentary will already understand what I mean by this. Then, after my Truth Social account request had finally been approved during the second week of March -- it does require a lot of patience -- and I had gotten into their social platform, when they announced that they were going to begin verifying accounts so that users could have a red check mark displayed next to their name, I submitted a verification request for my account. Well, after a few days, I received an email from Truth Social in which they outlined the criteria which they use to determine whether or not to verify a person's account. Before proceeding, let me point out that joining Truth Social, and being a verified user, are two separate things. In other words, anyone can make an account request, be accepted into their social network, and make posts and interact with other users, without ever being verified. Being verified is an additional optional step which confirms that a person is who they say they are. As occurs on some other social networks, its purpose is to engender trust in that particular user so that other users will interact with them, and have confidence that the posts -- or truths -- which are being made are true, and are actually being posted by that person or entity. But here's the thing. What I have discovered thus far in my almost one month with Truth Social, is that insofar as verified accounts are concerned, the people behind Truth Social are really only interested in verifying high profile conservative influencers, such as Sean Hannity, Dan Bongino, Kevin McCarthy, Dan Scavino, Maria Bartiromo, Breitbart News and the like. Two of Trump's sons -- Donald Trump Jr. and Eric Trump -- also have verified accounts, as does Melania Trump. Even The Babylon Bee -- which a lot of people often quote, as if what the Bee says is true, when it is really all satire -- has a verified account there. Country music star Travis Tritt also has a verified Truth Social account. A few high profile personalities for whom I expected to find verified accounts when I just conducted my Truth Social search, but for whom I did NOT find verified accounts, include Ivanka Trump, Steve Bannon, Rudy Giuliani, Glenn Beck, Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, Kayleigh McEnany and Kellyanne Conway. Conway does have a Truth Social account, but it is not a verified account. From reading certain news reports from recent months, what I also discovered is that prior to its official launch to the general public, the Truth Social team sent out special invitations to many high profile VIPs, encouraging them to join Truth Social. This endeavor even included sending out invitations to some of former president Donald Trump's most vocal critics. Oddly enough, even though Truth Social was specifically set up by and for former U.S. president, Donald Trump, so that he could have a free hand to express his views without any kind of censorship, to date, Trump himself has only made one post there. Weird. He -- and his views -- is supposed to be the main attraction and the magnet which draws millions of other conservatives to Truth Social; and yet the man hasn't even posted anything yet. I am not sure what to make of that. In contrast to the aforementioned VIPs, sad to say, my initial impression after one month's usage of the Truth Social network is that all the rest of us are viewed as small potatoes, and are basically ignored; meaning that we don't get much exposure -- if any at all -- on Truth Social. We most certainly will never be considered for a verified account. This became clear to me when I read the email which was sent to me by the Truth Social staff, which just so happens to have "@vip.truthsocial.com" in the email address. In my view, this email basically says to me "You are not important enough." Following are the full contents of the email. Decide for yourself if I am wrong: ----- Begin Quote ----- A red check on TRUTH Social lets users know that an account of public interest is genuine and not an imposter, impersonation, or parody. In order to receive a red check your account must be authentic, active on TRUTH Social, and noteworthy. We will consider noteworthy people and organizations in the following categories: * Government * Brands, companies, and nonprofits * Journalists and news organizations * Sports (including esports) * Entertainment * Activists, influencers, and organizers For an account to be verified, you must be an active user of TRUTH Social. TRUTH Social users will be considered active users upon completion of the following steps: * Your account must have a complete profile name with a profile image. * Your phone number and email address must be confirmed. * Your account must be actively posting content. To be verified on TRUTH Social, you will be asked to provide the following information to confirm your identity: * An official website that confirms you or your organization’s identity. * A valid official government issued identification document, like a passport or driver’s license. * An official email (i.e., a branded email address that matches your official website). Or * Announce on your verified Twitter or Instagram account where users can find you on TRUTH Social. The announcement must not be removed for six months. ----- End Quote ----- To prove my point, consider the fact that even though I have been a member of Truth Social for about a month now; and even though I have made over sixty posts thus far, many of which are my politically-oriented poetry, some of which even support Donald Trump; and even though I have openly declared that I am a Christian in my user profile; to date, I have only acquired four followers. That's right, folks; only four people in a month's time. I don't know any of them on a personal level. For all I know, some of them may not even be real people. They could be bots. Furthermore, even though I have advertised my Truth Social account on Facebook multiple times, none of my 5,000 Facebook friends have joined me on Truth Social. As if the previous points aren't already enough to discourage my ongoing participation on the Truth Social platform, consider the fact that no one has liked, commented on, or shared -- what Truth Social calls "retruth" -- any of my posts. It is as if no one is even seeing them, just as now occurs on Facebook. After all, it seems to me that if other Truth Social users were actually seeing my posts, surely I would have received at least a few likes and comments by now. Yet I have yet to receive a single one. Why do I believe this? Because as I mentioned earlier, I have specifically shared poetry -- as well as some graphics, videos and commentaries -- which are clearly conservative and/or Christian in nature. Unless I am wrong, conservatism is supposed to be a strong attractor on Truth Social. So why aren't the fish biting? The discouraging truth of the matter is that the ONLY interaction I have seen, is when I have commented on OTHER users' posts, and those other users happen to be big name accounts such as Sean Hannity, NASA, Cute Animals Doing Stuff, Science Videos, etc. In case you have missed one of my main points, it is this: It should not matter if a person is a VIP, high profile politician, popular social influencer, well-known celebrity or not. If any individual is willing to provide whatever proof the Truth Social network requires in order to verify that they are who they say they are, then Truth Social should be willing to verify their account. By failing to do so, and by only verifying VIP accounts, they are in fact already practicing discrimination, and dividing their users into different classes on their network. They are creating an elite class, and a peon class, and they are no better than any other social network which does the same thing. This ought not to be, in my opinion. So the aforementioned has been my personal experience on the Truth Social social network thus far. Unless the situation changes soon, I honestly cannot justify spending a lot of time on their platform. As bad as Facebook has become for those of us who embrace Conservative and Christian values, it still gives me more exposure -- as little as it may be -- than Truth Social, and that is not saying a lot for Facebook either. https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/is-the-truth-social-network-a-dud/?feed_id=246594&Is%20the%20Truth%20Social%20Network%20a%20Dud%3F

[edgelordhoard]

This tangent post will contain my overview on the 2020 decade thus far and how I think 2025, the halfway point, will go. This post will try to not center on negativity since I am a believer that in this day and age all posts should be hopecore posts.

2020-2021: Everyone is forced to lock themselves away so we don't all die. Mental states deteriorate at a drastic rate due to this and the lack of affordable healthcare does not help.

2022: Humanity is allowed out once again but everyone had gotten so used to being terminally online that social skills became nonexistent and addictions to screens worsened.

2023: Gen AI rapidly advances via unethical methods that are ignored for the sake of profit since human beings had begun demanding to be treated as human beings in a time where humanity and empathy was lost. Nobody is really happy about it other than large corporations and tech bros.

2024: Everyone is mad at everyone and misinformation has become easy to produce and spread online.

2025: Probably the destruction of whatever humanity we have left.

Unless we stop it.

Throughout history we have seen time and time again that the only way we can actually see change in society is if people advocate for it like any other change. But, nobody is doing that. Instead we just choose to be angry, we choose to yell, we choose to fight and that gets us nowhere.

What I have been seeing that actually makes change is how AI "Artists" are starting to pick up the pencil. A past AI "Artist" actually came out and said that a lot of them are switching to actually drawing because of how boring, repetitive, tedious, and generally costly it is to generate images. They find it way more easier to just learn to draw, especially with how available free sources are, and a lot of these people actually just wanted to become manga artists which I find super sweet!

To all of you who picked up the pencil, I hope you find your dream art career and it all goes well. The art community is here for you, always!

"But that doesn't change the rest of AI and how rampant it is!" I know, but it's a start. A lot of changes in our society and reminding people that humanity is an important thing, especially during the starting stages of a tech ran dystopia, is not going to be instant. It will still take years and effort for our messages to really get out there but I see it as possible, because people are starting to pick up the pencil.

Next, people will pick up the pen and write.

Next, people will pick up the mic and voice.

Next, people will pick up the camera and create.

But it can only happen if people help motivate it to happen. Artists began to be born again because other artists posted tutorials and mtoivational videos on why we weren't dying or giving up, and it wasn't the ones insulting the AI bros but instead those offering a helping hand.

In the end, it was the videos that reminded them of humanity and gave them the guidance on how to rediscover it. So if you write, voice, or direct then I beg of you to make in depth tutorials on how to start and offer that same guidance to help convince those AI bros to quit and give having fun and creating a shot.

Our world is suffering from not recovering their humanity after Covid. It didn't just permanently damage us physically but mentally, and therapy is basically unobtainable these days without it being a scam.

Humanity and empathy are forgotten concepts in a world ran by social media that has their algorithms made to only feed you rage bait since raging and hatred are what people want to do in this decade.

Worse of all, if this continues on then it may keep on going throughout the 2030 decade. Is this what we want? Do we want to continue tearing ourselves apart for another 10 years?

I know that the world is very scary right now, we have 3 of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse at our doorstep, we're just waiting for famine, but this means hope isn't lost. So, I give you all a request.

Take time out of your day to post something nice.

Find out how you can help in your community.

Post flyers around that just has something nice on it, like a cute pet photo.

Just... be nice.

Going off of personal experience, I believe all of this hate comes from stress. Everyone is mad because this decade is just one big bad horrible no good awful day for everybody, but what happens after a bad day? You go to bed, and you wake up in a better mood so you can make the new day better.

This is why in 2025 I plan to start doing daily streams if I can afford to. All I'll be doing is basically a daily dose of internet type thing but in stream format where I just chat with people and talk about nice things going on either in my life or the world. I'll also probably do art tutorials, and I don't just mean drawing.

I've dabbled into music and I actively write on the daily, so I'll share how I got into it with $0 spent out of my pocket and with none of my CPU taken up. Unfortunately I don't animate nor make films, but I'll probably find some video tutorials and share those.

What I plan to do is what I hope others do as well, take time out of their days just to remind people of the joys of being human to others and yourself. And hopefully, by doing this, we can stop this from being a bad decade by 2026 and get this messed up world somewhat fixed.

I just want to be able to see people say "Free Hugs" again.

On new years midnight, the start of 2025, I will make a post that I will repost daily for the entire year in the hopes that it will make some sort of impact on some people.

[veiledfox]

The God who Vanished [ III ]

"Fine, Kit. Sit, relax, and I shall tell you a tale."

The Drake's voice rumbles the cave again, though unlike before the vibrations it caused were softer. It's volume lower, as the vast being relaxed to settle in for retelling the past to their visitor. A Kitsune, who's tail spreads into nine and moves to form supports as she eases back. A makeshift seat of sorts.

"Nine tails. Respect where it's due, Kit."

"Thank you." Kyuushi bows her head, accepting his words without hesitation or contradiction. While she didn't know other Kitsune in her own Realm, she knew thanks to information from other Mythos that it was rare for a Kitsune to earn all nine tails in the modern age. It wasn't surprising that Brant knew such a thing as well, considering they seemed to be among the most knowledgeable of the many Mythos species.

"Now, we must look back. Before the Crimson Terror declared war against the Gods. Amid their seeking of power. None truly knew what they were up to at the time, even other Kitsune thought they were spewing nonsense peaking of going against the Deities. All they knew was that they would vanish for long periods of time, before eventually returning, changed in some way or another. It baffled their Kin each time, but bit by bit they grew to believe that perhaps the Grand Kitsune could, in fact, oppose the Gods themselves."

Brant begins their tale, to which Kyuushi's ears immediately perk up to pay close attention to and take in every detail. Not all of what had been said so far was new to her, already having known that her Ancestor had been gaining power that changed their very being. Though to learn of the outside point of view from he Kitsune of the time was rather interesting.

"Now, to be more exact, this tale of which you seek occurs in the earlier days. While the Grand Kitsue was still only barely learning of the power they could gain with the methods available to them. The Gods, of course, were aware that they were planning something. However, the very nature of the Gods and that of Mythos like us directly oppose each other. Thus there is an innate interference between our kind when attempting to observe one another. It can be bypassed by some methods, of course, but likewise it can be strengthened by others."

This information was something Kyuushi was not aware of. It did always strike her a little oddly that the Gods needed Kitsunes to make themselves known on a larger scale to be targeted by them. A part of her thought it was simply a thing of them just being too egotistical to care to watch for her Kin at all times. Perhaps them feeling there be no need to, as her Ancestor was the one and only of her kind to even draw close to their power. None since had gotten even remotely close.

"At this time, however, one God was keenly aware of what your Ancestor had been learning of. One God knew of their plan, and the exponential growth they were beginning to experience. None other than Inari, Kami of Foxes, who since her arrival alongside the other Gods had grown to take an interest in the Mythos. As such, she learned of the Kitsune, and with her domain being over your Feral Kin she grew fond of the Kitsune. Thus she would descend to the Earthly plane in secret, under a Vulpine disguise, to interact with those both Feral and Mythos."

Inari, a Deity, bothered herself with their kind? Such a revelation had the Kitsune's brows rising and eyes widening as she took in and processed such. To think back on everything she had heard of the Gods, of how little they ever seemed to bother themselves with Mythos as a whole if not for harmful purposes, it was hard to believe that one actually grew fond of them. Though with her interest peaked, she shifts forward and leans ver her knees while resting her arms across them.

"Inari would then become somewhat close to a select few Kitsune, gaining their trust, and requesting their assistance to be able to keep and eye on the Grand Kitsune. As much as was possible, at least. Those Kitsune who Inari befrended saw the Goddess as one of their own. As much Kin as any other Kitsune, or the Feral Foxes were. She became family to them, and she grew to understand the gripe the Mythos held toward her own Kin.

Of course, as her Kin, the other Gods were able to keep watch of Inari more easily than they could the Kitsune she was spending time with. Thus were they aware of her shifting ideals and allegiances, especially as she began to spend more and more time with them than her own kind. Some of the Gods began to wonder about the Mythos, to consider that perhaps it would be better for them to seek co-habitation and cooperation. Others thought the idea silly, and a waste of their time."

Such was more akin to the knowledge she and other Mythos had of the Gods these days. Beings who felt themselves better than the Mythos who inhabited the world prior, and kept to their Divine Plane. Simply allowing their creation, Humanity, to run rampant across the world while occationally intervening for one reason or another. Otherwise only ever granting small, mostly insignificant, blessings to those who prayed to and worshipped them.

"Inari was able to sense the growing tension, not only between her kind, but that which was beginning to stew surrounding your Ancestor. Their distaste for the Gods, their anger for what had begun to happen to the world because of them introducing Humanity to the mis, their bloodlust. Inari attempted to get contact with the Grand Kitsune via her connections with others of your Species at the time. To gain an audience to speak with and potentially talk them out of their course.

However, her attempts would be turned down time and time again. The Grand Kitsune too absorbed with their plan, their spite, to entertain another path for even a second. Even their mate was unable to sway them during their brief times together between their near constant travels for more and more power. Even when time came that they had to pause their activities, as they had concieved a single child. An unfortunate rarity at the time, to only bear a single offspring unlike the litters that were more common at the time. Though they took such unfortunate circumstance in stride, knowing their lust for power and the changes it caused were likely the reason."

Despite already being aware the Grand Kitsune would've had to have offspring of some kind to eventually lead to her own existence, it was still a little weird. To hear that a being who, supposedly, was so absurdly hostile and monstrous, had a softer side and a private, romantic, life. Especially considering what was known of their actions at the time, to think they were going through so many changes and still they sought to bear a child? Who knew what kind of effect such changes could've had on them.

"In light of the inability to contact and meet with the Crimson, the Kami would instead turn to her Kin. Aiming to try and convince those who believed themselves the Mythos' betters that, instead, they should try to get to know them. To treat them as their equals. When her words would fall on deaf ears, she would attempt reaching out to the others her shared her newfound fondness for our kind. However, where she expected sympathy and agreement to lead to assistance, she would instead be met with hesitation and rejection.

The others, while they had grown to appreciate and enjoy the company of some of the Mythos like Inari herself, did not feel as strongly as she. They did not wish to act against their Kin who had no such affection, as they were not only outnumbered, but underpowered by comparisson. If civil war were to occur, they knew they would not be victorious. Such cowardice, such hypocrisy, upset Inari and pushed her to distance herself from her Kin. She would leave the Divine Plane entirely, remain on our Earthly Plane among Kitsune and Foxes."

There it was, that trademark Godly bullshit that Kyuushi had come to be aware of in modern times. She knew it was all in the past, but even still, as she listened to therest of the tale she could feel her own anger rising. It was causing her hair and fur to stand on end, even. Though it would be a narrowing of Brants eyes, as they even take notice, that leads her to catch herself and take a breath.

"It wasn't long after that your Ancestor would make their intentions clear. Gathering other Kitsune and preaching to them of how the world was prior to the Gods. Announcing to them of her intent to wage war, to slaughter every last one and free the Earth from their influence. Urging those who heard their words to spread them far and wide, seeking out all other Kitsune they could and informing the rest of the Mythos of their intentions. Partly to just get the news out, but also to warm the rest of our kind to not interfere in the Kitsune's actions.

When the word spread, becoming known across the world among the Mythos, it became an inevitability. The Gods would take note, ackowledging the intentions of the Crimson, regardless of whether they felt it silly or not. Thus would they send one of their own, one of the mighty Deities of War, intent on stamping out such foolishness. Being of their Kin, Inari would quickly become aware of such, and sought to warn the Grand Kitsune. Utilizing her few connections among the Kitsune to pass the warning on, which would lead to the first strike against the Divine.

A single exchange, entirely one sided, where your Ancestor lashed out at the God and struck true. The injury was serious, nearly grevious even. Yet, as it was Ares himself whom had set out to squash the Kitsune's rising force, not only would he survive, he would strike back with force. It would be in this exchange that the claw which became the ring you now wear would be torn from your Ancestor."

Brant's information on the ring itself wasn't anything new to her, having already known of the stories that surrounded it. It was fairly commonly known of among Mythos communities, after all. One of very few things that was so well known concerning the Grand Kitsune. Though such knowledge always came with the belief that it housed their spirit, and would some day be a catalyst for their return. Still, she would nod her understanding as the claw is withdrawn.

"It would be Inari who found the claw after the retaliation launched it. She who would keep it hidden, until able to find a method to return it to the Grand Kitsune. In light of the clash, and how damaged Ares had been by the Crimson, she knew it would be impossible to divert either side's ire and stop the war from occuring. Understanding it would only be a matter of time before your Ancestor was ready to face the Deities again.

After having sent the claw on it's way, she would withdraw from everything and cease responding to those who prayed to her. Deciding instead that, if she could not stop the coming extermination, she could at least work behind the scenes to try and ensure the Kitsune would survive. For a time, she would continue to remain in contact with a select few Kitusne. During such time she would seek knowledge of where the Crimson's home was. However, after some time, she would cease to reveal herself to others.

Inari had found her way to your home. Found and met your Ancestor's Mate while they were elsewhere. Spoke with him, became acquainted, and protected both him and your home whenever the Crimson was away. She had taken precautions to hide herself from the other Deities before hand, mind you, so the location of your home is safe from their watch."

It made the Kitsune almost reel at hearing that one of the Gods was aware of her home. The thought of such a being as those who had sworn to exterminate her kind ever since the war knew of where she was supposed to be safest. However, with what Brant had told of Inari so far prior to such reveal... she was conflicted to say the least.

"There she would remain, under the protective barrier that your Ancestor had constructed, but away from the homestead itself. Right up to the war itself, where she would feel the death of oner of her own at the Grand Kitsune's hand. Then the death of the Crimson themselves, and the vast eradication of their Kin by the hands of her fellow Deities.

She would forsake her divinity, after such attrocities. Casting it off and using it as sacrifice to utilize powerful Magic and change reality itself. Even if the method of which could only be minor. Inari would will two changes to take hold.

The first, erase the names of the Grand Kitsune and their Mate from all who live beyond the barrier. An extra precaution, which would provide a layer of mystery to the titles of Grand Kitsune or Crimson Terror, preventing any who may seek information on them from knowing just who exactly they were. At such point, they could have been any of the countless who were killed by the Divine.

The Second, a strengthening to the haze that naturally existed between the Gods and the Kitsune. Making it even harder for any God to peer in on your kind. Outright preventing the Gods from directly attempting to view your Kin through any form of scrying Magic, and making it even harder for them to be preceived by Divinity in general. Hoping it would provide the Kitsune a chance to live without the constant fear of being discovered by the Gods without outside influence.

With what remained of Inari's power, she would remain with your Ancestor's Mate. Aid in keeping their home safe, and in raising the Kit. She would be the one who set out to retrieve the Crimson's corpse and return it to where it belonged. The one to craft the catacomb beneath, entombing the Grand Kitsune at it's deepest level. The one who crafted the shrine on the surface, as a place for all of Vulpine nature to respect their dead lost to the Gods, despite the location itself being kept secret.

Without their Divinity, Inari had become Mortal, thus would her days begin to near their end as years passed. Before such a time as she could succumb to illness or age, however, she would use the last of her strength and power to sacrifice herself and become an eternal defender. One which I assume you have seen from time to time by now. Removing any who enter the barrier around your home with hostile intent."

[be-my-ally]

Let Yourself Go

Overstimulated Reader! Request.

my darling, what a dream request - thank you anon! for both your very kind words + excellent request!!! this has consumed my brain for the past week; I originally intended it to be short like 2.5-3k, and then it turned into 4k and then I realised that in all of those words elvis had only been treated once so it turned into 6k. so this is 6.7k of pure, absolute, filthy smut just for you that i really hope lives up your expectations!

summary: slightly innocent!reader is convinced girls can't really orgasm - elvis sets out to teach her how wrong she is.

pairing: afab!reader/elvis (big daddy e)

warnings: 18+, 18+, 18+, tiny bit of daddy kink, implied age difference, oral (p+v receiving), p in v sex, fingering, mirror sex, overstimulation, very brief spanking. I think that's it? Reader does attempt to stop the proceedings a couple of times and elvis doesn't stop but it is all consensual.

wc: 6.7k

suggested listening: the end of such a night + of course, let yourself go.

You’ve not been together very long and you were still learning about each other in many ways. It confused you a little that he, who you knew had girls throwing themselves at him, would take the time to bother to get to know you better. He’d picked you out of the crowd and put you on his lap in his dressing room before he’d even learnt your name. When you’d told him, earnestly, that you didn’t expect to be married or anything but you were a good girl, who wouldn’t sleep around, you’d expected him to tell you that he wasn’t going to see you again. But no, he’d put in the effort and here you were, a few weeks later, at Graceland of all places. You’d been brought back with him after his engagement at the International ended for this year, allowing him a short break before he resumed touring. 

He’d taken you out on his bike earlier, showing you the sights of Memphis and you’d loved the rush, so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Despite the fact that you dreaded the call from your parents at the photos that would inevitably be published of the two of you - you hadn’t really been dressed to go out (the outing unexpected), nor had you been able to help snuggling into his back, your hand resting on his solid thigh at the lights. When you’d gotten back to the estate you’d expected a party - a celebration of his homecoming, and you’d been bracing to have to deal with losing him for the evening, but you’d been pleasantly shocked when he’d kicked everyone out after dinner, announcing that he wanted a night just the two of you. 

You wanted to tell him that his expectations were a bit forward, to not get his hopes and that you still weren’t sure you were quite ready to have actual sex with him but in all honesty, you were ready and only your (perhaps misguided) morals had prevented you thus far. You had been slightly surprised at how unbothered he had seemed at the concept of sex - he’d laughed you off when you’d told him you didn’t want to sleep with him on the first night; telling you that was all very well but would you sleep with him because he couldn’t “bear the long nights all on my lonesome”. He hadn’t pressured you at all, less than your last boyfriend for sure, and seemed to genuinely enjoy your makeout sessions as much as you do. To tell the truth, you weren’t really sure why anyone was that bothered by sex - it felt fine sure, but it didn’t blow your world apart, was mostly very awkward, and you couldn’t understand what the fuss was in general. 

You’d followed him into the bedroom, into his room, and while part of you wanted to inspect every little detail of this hidden, protected space, the other part of you could feel his impatience from the bed and when he smiles at you - all cheeks and teeth, asking; 

“Wanna have some fun tonight darlin’? Cleared the place out for ya, didn’t want you to go all shy on me…some girls get nervy at the number of people in the place. Get real quiet and the like, even though I tell ‘em I got the sound locked down.” You forget any desire to rifle through his drawers and instead stare at him, slightly confused - just hoping he’s not going to be disappointed; 

“Uh, oh, well, I can’t say I’m that loud anyways, always, I always thought that was just a thing girls, uh, exaggerated?” You look down, embarrassed that you may be having to burst his bubble - you don’t want to be the first to tell him that from what you know there’s nothing to be shouting about. But he doesn’t react in the way you expect - blinking at you from under his glasses and patting the bed next to him. 

“C’mere doll, tell daddy what you mean.” You sit where he tells you to, tiny shorts hiking even further, and you curl your legs up underneath yourself. 

“I don’t, sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking? I’m just, just, saying that I never understood what those girls on the … on the … the stuff you like to watch, what they’re shouting about is all. Never seemed like anything worth carrying on like that is all.” He’s a little shocked but not altogether surprised - you’re young and a little sheltered, perhaps more than he thought at your reluctance to even said the word ‘pornography’ and he knows your only other relationships have been serious with boys from home, less about fun and more about futures, and he knows that they don’t always put the effort in they should. Still, he needs clarification - his eyes burning with curiosity; 

“You mean you ain’t ever .. got your rocks off? Never creamed those lil’ shorts of yours?” His thick hand finds its way onto your thigh and he flicks the hem of your shorts, practically between your legs. You giggle, pushing his hand off.

“Elvis. Don’t be silly, unless you’ve been with some funny sorta people - girls can’t do that! That’s… I might not know much but I do know that.” He looks back at you, utterly stunned, before smiling like all his Christmases have come at once, a full cheshire cat grin. 

“You - you ain’t never?” He’s shocked, but desperate to know your answer, taking his glasses off, leaning closer and waiting with practically bated breath in excitement, clenching his hands on his thighs. 

“I just told you E, that’s not something girls can actually do. Don’t you think I’d know! If you’re just gonna tease me I swear I’m gonna walk right out of here!” He laughs again at your indignation, shaking his head, 

“Naw little one, don’t do that, don’t do that - I just uh, I think I might be able to teach you a few things tonight is all. Just, ah, need to re-evaluate some things’all.” He frowns, “You know the other day, baby, when I stroked your little pussy and you pushed me off - told me you were all done?” 

You remember the incident he was talking about, He’d had his fingers up you, rubbing you exactly how you needed and you’d crunched with an involuntary shudder, couldn’t quite catch your breath properly and had told him to stop. You’d pushed him away in a panic that you didn’t know what was coming, but that that was certainly enough. He’d been a little worried then, worried that he’d pushed you into something you hadn’t wanted to do. But, he’d relaxed when you’d relaxed on the bed - he wasn’t happy with leaving you like that, on the edge, but he’d figured you were just shy, nervous that his entourage was a mere wall away. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that you genuinely believed that was you finished. 

“Yeah, but what about it? We were done - I was done, it was starting to make me feel weird. I actually think we went too far.” He lets out a pure incredulous laugh, shaking his head. 

“Oh baby, baby. I’m gonna, I’ll teach you baby, it’ll be ok.” You nod, but you’re honestly a bit confused about what he’s even planning on teaching you, but you don’t want to tell him he’s wrong again. You suppose he does have quite the reputation, so maybe he does have some things to show you, you doubt it somewhat but keep that to yourself. 

“Right, yittle, need these all off of ya,” He tugs at your shirt, starting to unbutton it. “and these, these slutty little shorts need to come off, lemme see what I’m working with.” He’s practically crooning at you, slipping your shirt off gently, divesting you off your shorts - undressing you as if you were a babe. He strips you of your bra, leaving you in little white panties, before pushing you back onto the bed to lie flat. He doesn’t give you time to worry about your nudity, cupping your cheek with one thick hand, leaning over you to kiss you. 

His tongue slips in, it’s like he’s mapping your mouth and you don’t bother to fight for dominance, letting him in, submissively brushing your tongue against his. He pulls away slightly, grabbing a breath and you can’t help it, his pouty perfect lips too tempting, you surge forward to softly suck on his bottom lip, nibbling gently. He responds in kind, pulling your head back, baring your neck - he tugs your lip between his teeth pulling as he pulls away. You moan at the little sting, and he presses a soothing peck against it. Before trailing down and pressing little open-mouthed kisses at your cheek, mouthing at your neck - tiny little suctioning touches until his hand, which he’s not resting on, is trailing further down. His fingers spread across a breast, fingertips playing with your nipple. You can feel the heat coiling in your tummy - your throbbing heartbeat between your legs. He’s pressing little kisses down your soft stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself - up on his knees slightly. It worries you briefly, he’s been using a cane as more than just an accessory more frequently lately - his youthful actions having been hard on his knees and legs, before your mind is wiped by his actions again. 

His hand trails lower, even as he continues to press soft kisses on your stomach, and he swipes down in a languid stroke over your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the forming damp spot. He pushes it into you, rubbing you over them - the fabric catching slightly, along with your breath. He moves his head back up, sucking you by your collarbone and on your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. The noises coming out of your mouth are unlike how you’ve ever heard yourself before, and as he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and off - the dampness making them pretty much see through - you would normally cringe in embarrassment but as you watch him lift them to his mouth and suck on them you can’t do anything but stare in an absolute state of shock and arousal. He’s still fully dressed although his shirt is so lowly unbuttoned, his chest with its covering of hair, god even his nipples practically out, that it barely counts. You can feel his own arousal growing against your side, still confined in his tight, slightly flared, trousers the heat of it, and can’t help but wiggle against him. He folds your panties, scrunching them up, before shifting to push them into his trouser pocket. You gape at him, 

“Good lord, you can’t - they’re so dirty Elvis - you can’t keep them. They need to be washed!” He smirks at you, smirk turning to a grin as he leans over you to whisper in your ear, moving his hand away from you as he does. 

“Baby, when they taste that good, I’ll do what I damn well like.” He licks your cheek, and it's something that you would have found disgusting from anyone else, but somehow him doing it makes your heartbeat pulse in your core. He lets his hand come back down, lightly slapping against your pussy, you jolt forward, mouth falling open, and eyes rolling slightly at the sudden intense pleasure from it. He chuckles into your ear, tickling your neck, “Oh - you like that mama? Like that baby?” He does it again, and you’re horrified at the wet slapping noise - but also at the sudden surge of wetness, you can feel.  

“Oh god, Elvis, you gotta - gotta do that again. Please.” He obliges, patting you once, twice, three times before letting his hand fly slightly harder, you can feel your heat rising - and you shiver slightly. You’ve reached the peak of where you’d been before. Your heartbeat fast, and a constant thrumming at your centre. He laughs, teasing you in a low tone, 

“God, who’d have thought you’d be such a dirty fucking girl, letting me - begging me to spank that yittle cunt of yours.” He puts an inflection onto yittle, as if even when talking about your ‘cunt’ he’s unable to stop his penchant for baby talk. 

He uses his fingers to spread you apart, middle finger sliding in your slick. The metal of his ring is cold against your burning skin, sending goosebumps down your flesh. You think he can’t make you feel any better when he slips two of his fingers inside you. His huge square ring catching on your entrance for a moment and you buck your hips as he slides it in. He pumps them, in and out, as you squirm on the bed. Your eyes fall closed for a moment and he whispers to you, 

“You like that little? My fingers in you? Gonna show you how girls do it, teach ya how it goes.” You respond with a whine - his words causing a blush to travel from your chest. You’re simultaneously embarrassed at needing to be taught something about your own adult self and aggressively turned on by his narration. 

You’re breathless and while he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face - pure concentration in his burning eyes, you can’t help but wonder what he’s getting from all of this attention on you. But to be the centre of his focus, him looking at you like you’re the whole world - the only thing in the world, is another level of high. Behind him you can yourself reflected in the mirror above - you look fucking debauched, unlike yourself and seeing him from above, in all his iconic glory, reminding you this is Elvis fixated on you brings you even closer to the cliff edge. 

He pushes into you, unnecessarily - his fingers were long enough he could reach with his thumb without having to strain at all - to reach your hooded clit. He finds it expertly, rubbing it just so. You shudder, and he keeps going just as he was, but kisses down your neck to your nipple again, swirling it in his mouth, pulling it with his teeth slightly and you can feel yourself about to fall. You panic at the unexpected and unknown feeling and try to throw him off, 

“Elvis! Elvis stop - stop I can’t - I can’t do it, it’s too much - you gotta, you gotta st-“ You’re thrashing about the place, arms flailing as you try to push him away, but his fingers don’t stop and he hushes you as he’s suddenly stroking this little spot inside of you. You can feel it’s different but can’t quite tell how until he crooks his fingers and presses. You shudder, your mouth falling open, although you’re still far quieter than he’d like - he makes a mental note that his aim tonight is to make you scream. And then you’re shaking, convulsing on his hand - stomach and core muscles clenching of their own accord. He rubs and strokes you through it. Your mind is blank and all you can feel is your thighs shaking - your head rolling from side to side. He keeps going and you keep going for him, clutching the covers in tight fists, mouth open in a silent scream as one of your legs randomly seems to jump about. He can tell you’re at the end of what you can do for him at the moment. He softlypulls his fingers out, trying to bring you down gently. His fingers leaving feather-light touches across your mound and thighs. 

“That good, baby?” He pats his sticky, wet hand on your tummy and you can’t speak, taking heaving breaths. 

“W-was,” You’re slurring as you come back to, your ears ringing, “Is that, what I’ve been missing? Is that meant to happen?” He laughs at you, finger drawing little shapes on your stomach, 

“Yeah, when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing.” He puffs his chest out a little, clearly proud of himself, “A real man.” You laugh, and he kisses you again and again until your lips are swollen and bitten raw and you’re gasping for air. You lay back for a few more moments, looking up at him leaning over you. He moves his arm, and you’re not quite sure what comes over you, but the movement had spread his shirt even more and it’s not something you’d ever considered doing ever before, but he did do it to you earlier so you gain the courage to ask; 

“El- can I, can I…please can I taste you?” He raises a brow at your polite request, but is not going to turn down such an offer, 

“Sure baby, lemme get lil’ Elvie out now - “ You frown, interrupting him. 

“No, no… can I just… like you did earlier?” He looks slightly confused, his brow furrowed, but he agrees nonchalantly - clearly used to letting whoever do whatever they like with his body. 

“Sure - “ He starts to say something else, but you’re too distracted by the permission, rushing forward to kiss his chest, moving down to capture his nipple. He jerks,

“Christ - Oh lord,” You’re practically suckling him, one hand threading through his chest hair, feeling his stomach, the hard line where he’s definitely still muscular somewhere underneath but is soft and cushy above, grasping at his pillowy sides. His hips are bucking, circling with the effort not to throw you off accidentally, “Oh gods, baby, christ little one, lord, oh lord.” He’s unable to be silent, constantly babbling a stream of curses and praise. You pull off, and suddenly, you’re mortified. 

“Oh my goodness, Oh, Elvis, I - uh, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You’re shocked at yourself but he’s panting, and you can feel him straining against his pants. 

“Oh darlin’, lord, darlin’ it’sss ok, it’s so good, so good baby. Love your lil’ mouth on me.” You smile a little bashfully as he pats at you as if praising a dog. “Think now little Elvis would too baby, get him out - show him how much you ‘preciate him too?” You pant back at him nodding your agreement. He’s resting further up on the bed than he was before, you’d both travelled around the last few minutes and he sits to take his shirt fully off, before unbuttoning his trousers finally and wriggling out of them. He shuffles further back and you get yourself situated between his legs, bracketed by his thick thighs on either side of you, their covering of downy hair tickling your sides. You lean down, gently stroking his hardening cock - but then pause, 

“Elvis, I ain’t ever - you gotta tell me how to do it.” He groans, his head falling back, 

“Goddamn, like you were made for me, fucking made for me honey,” he peers down at you, over the slight swell of his stomach, tucking his chin in - one of his meaty fingers stroked the side of your face before gently grasping your head, lowering it to his cock. “You gotta, gotta say hello little one, give ‘im a little hello kiss now - “ You do as he says, brushing your lips against the very tip. You’d seen it briefly before, so although not this close, and you had given him a … helping hand over the past few weeks so you’re not surprised to see he’s uncut nor at the size of him - generous in length and girth, but it’s still fascinating to you up close. You can't help but study it briefly - assessing how his foreskin is starting to retract back slightly and you absentmindedly reach for it, gently rolling it forward and back a little bit, unsure how far it should go. His hips jerk, 

“Christ, baby, you gotta warn a man first.” You smile, meeting his blazing blue eyes and amused expression. 

“Sorry - I thought me being here was warning enough.” He laughs and pats your cheek. 

“Right little one, back to work. Kiss down little Elvis, let him know how much you wanted to see him - ‘ You obey his orders, pressing little kisses all the way down his shaft. “Ok, now doll you're gonna take him in that hot little mouth of yours - gonna be re-eal careful of your sharp little teeth, got it?” You obediently bob up and down in a nod, making sure not to scrape him.

Instinct seems to kick in and you take a moment to suck down on him, flattening your tongue against his underside. His other hand finds its way into your hair accompanying the one still resting on your cheek and neck, hand spanning across the distance. His hip jerks forward and it causes his dick to knock further back than you were expecting and you pull back with a little cough.

“S’ok baby, sorry, felt so good, couldn't help myself, not gonna make you take all of him tonight, you can use your hand go on, show the rest of him how much you love him.” He pats you again and it’s enough encouragement for you to go back down on him. You do as he suggested, stroking and pulling him with your hand where your mouth can't comfortably reach, growing bold enough to reach down and delicately hold and stroke his balls. His hands are insistent on your head, not forcing you but certainly moving you exactly how he wants you. You can taste the thin salty trickle of precum starting to dribble out of him.

“That’s it, baby, I was already so close, just from touchin’ ya honey, just gotta suck me just like that, that’s it like a damn popsicle.” His hands grow a little rougher, tugging on your hair slightly, as his hips circle and his thighs clench around you. “Gonna, you gonna stroke me now, yittle, you just gonna stroke me, I’ll let you have a taste, give you a treat but that’s enough for now - ’s about you tonight, about you honey.” He's babbling now, and you're not paying much attention to his words coming out of his mouth except when his request filters through to your brain, and you pull off with a little wet pop, stroking him to completion. He squirts over your hand - ribbons of white hitting you on the chin and chest, moaning as he does and his eyes falling closed.

He leans back, breathing heavily as his cock finishes jumping about, slowly softening before your eyes and you glance around, before grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe your hand on. Before you can raise it to your chin to wipe it off of there he sits up and moves his hand from your face to swipe a finger through it. “C’mon baby, gonna have you swallow it next time,” You're uncertain about this, but don’t bother to say anything right now as he rubs his fingers on your lips, “Go on, open up honey, have a taste for me. Lick it clean.” You do as he commands, tasting the salty tang of a man’s cum for the first time. It's not wholly unpleasant, although you're not sure about the texture, but you can’t say you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of swallowing his full load. He watches as you suck his fingers, licking them completely clean looking up at him under your lashes as you do. 

He leans forward to kiss you but then suddenly grimaces, frowning. Twisting slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from his hips and back. 

“I’m sorry, honey, but I gotta- I gotta lie down again.” You frown, worried. 

“Of course! don’t - you’re meant to be relaxing!” He’s proven himself to you - taught you that there was something on the other side of the cliff edge and it was good. But you weren’t worried - didn’t see any reason to continue, you’d both been taken care of and you were now perfectly happy to be tucked up in bed for the night.

“Oh no, I don’t mean I’m done. Get over here, little girl…” He manhandles you, ringed fingers digging into your thighs as he arranges you over the top of him. He then lies down, sliding between your legs, before huffing a tiny bit as he heaves you up from his chest and down onto him. “That’s it, mama, right over my face. Lemme get to that poor little kitty of yours.” You’re confused as to what he’s going to be able to achieve from this angle - he can’t possibly just want such a closer look, can he? But then, without warning, he pushes his head up licking down your labia before pulling you off balance to literally sit on his face. 

“Woah - Oh, Elvis I’m gonna hurt you like this, I can’t just - I’m too heavy!” You try to move away but you can’t escape from his tight grip. 

“Ain’t gonna hurt a fly baby - lemme just.” And he pushes his tongue into you, spearing into your hole. You’re sopping wet already, his fingers having seen to that, and the noises are obscene - the wet smacking and sucking. 

“Elv-oh my god, Elvis you can’t-“ You try to get off but his hands don’t let you move at all - pinning you onto him. But as you struggle your thighs touch and you can feel the wetness and the stickiness that’s spread throughout - tangling your curls, sticking your thighs. “It’s- it’s - it’s dirty, you can’t, you shouldn’t - that shouldn’t, you’re not meant to do that.” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t even respond, simply holds you down and goes harder.

You’re supporting most of your weight on your own legs but every time you clench or move you can feel his fingers digging tighter in - sure you’ll have bruises where his rings and fingertips have been. You can’t help but move, grinding onto his mouth. It’s outrageous and you can’t believe this is something people do, but now it’s happening you wonder how you’ve lived this long without it, without knowing how this feels. His tongue is flicking between lapping at your hole and your inner folds. Your hips circle and one of his hands comes around your thigh - curling around to join his mouth. He moves his mouth up to suck on your clit, and the warm wet pressure, the suction, the everything - it’s too much. You’re losing control again, fighting the panic for a second time that evening - but this time, the pressure is growing even stronger and though you recognise the feeling now it feels different. 

“Oh my god, Elvis, god, Elvis, Elvis please, please, you gotta stop! I’m gonna-” You grind your hips again, but he must be able to hear the sudden change in your tone - the sudden, very real, panic. And despite his instinct telling him not to he worries it’ll make you lose your relaxed state and he pulls away, kissing your inner thigh, 

“Relax baby, dontcha worry, oh my poor baby’s little neglected pussy - you’ve got no idea, just been waiting for a real man, for daddy, to show you what you’ve been missin’ all this time.” He croons into you, hands stroking your thighs, soothing you into compliance. As soon as you relax into his hold again he surges forward once more. Your folds are swollen and slick, feeling like they’re burning, you feel so hot. And your entire focus is on your cunt and Elvis. Unable to even think about your thigh cramping or your foot falling asleep. He kisses up you, capturing your little puffy clit in his lips again and sucks hard. You think you might be about to pass out - it feels so overwhelming, but suddenly the pressure changes - and as he slips a finger back inside you it starts to feel a little too similar to something else. 

Your panicked noises come back out, and you once again are begging Elvis to stop warning him; “I think I’m gonna pee, Elvis, seriously! I can’t - I can’t hold it! Elvis - daddy, fuck, I can’t, I seriously think I’m gonna - gonna pee.” But he doesn’t stop this time, not even to reassure you, just continuing his steady ministrations, speeding up, and the pressure is steadily mounting again, reaching the peak. Your orgasm rips through you and you have to throw your hands out to support yourself on the headboard to simply stay upright but you’re barely able to think about it, moving on instinct alone. You’re shuddering and he’s continuing, won’t leave you be. And then, the pressure seems to burst - slowly yet somehow quicker than anything you’re ever felt. It’s like your vagina is simultaneously your whole body and also entirely separate from your body as it clenches before you’re gushing, liquid shooting out of you. It drenches his face, it’s in his hair, in his sideburns, and he sits up, as you fall off of him to one side, and he’s glistening. 

You’re in a daze but a little embarrassed, both at him covered in your juices and that he was right and you were wrong about your abilities. But his reaction makes you second guess your immediate response - he’s grinning, licking his goddamn lips like he’s just eaten the best-tasting dessert of his life. He uses one of your discarded shirts to wipe his face off, smiling at the damp patches it causes. 

“There we are baby, Daddy got’cha there, got you to that special place - that’s what it’s meant to be like darling. Told you didn’t I, told you, you just gotta listen to me, let yourself go.” 

You lay back panting - you’re a little sore and a lot tired and you’re sure you’re done. You can feel his cock hardening against you again in a gentle coaxing sort of way, and you reach over a hand. You can do this, but you’ve just not got the energy for anything else - and your pussy is still pulsing, soft and swollen and puffy. He bats your hand away though, 

“Right, mama, gonna show you how it’s really done, you’re gonna reach your little o on my cock, and you’re gonna know that’s how it should be every time.” He kneels up on the bed, pulling you up onto your knees too, and he’s putting you exactly where he wants you. You want to refuse, but he’s so convincing, and you are a little curious at how he might be able to make even this so spectacular for you, an act that you’d been ambivalent about, mostly put up with; knowing it was something women just did to keep their partners happy. He manhandles you into the perfect position for him, your back slightly arched, hands clutching the top of the headboard and he brushes your sweaty hair off of your neck, kissing where it lay before. 

You stay where he puts you, slightly shell-shocked at your easy compliance, and at what he’s suggesting. You glance up from under your lashes and notice the huge mirror above the bed - you’d seen the one above yourself in the bed but not the glass above the headboard - and can see how you look. You watch your face contort slightly as he presses a few of his fingers into you again, testing if you’re ready. But you’re loose, in a novel sort of way - so aroused that it’s easy in a way it’s never been before. You’re studying your fucked out face, shocked at how wide your pupils are, the redness of your lips and cheeks, before you turn your attention to Elvis watching his rosy reflection - his hair sticking down, body and chest shimmering with sweat, clinging to his chest hair, his plush lips bitten red and his face still with a hint of damp, blue eyes sparkling. You’re about to utter something completely embarrassing like, “Oh my god, you’re so pretty,” or “I love you.” But you’re (somewhat thankfully) distracted by him rubbing himself on you a couple of times before fucking into you. You jolt forward, mouth falling open as he simply pushes his whole length in, immediately pulling back out to shutter his hips forward again - gripping your waist and pulling you back onto him too. You’re shouting, finally, garbled noises and moans as he gives you no time to adjust and instead slams you back and forth to him, his balls slapping against your wet skin. 

He spanks your ass and you shudder, the tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure of him hitting that spot in you, getting in so deep you feel like he’s in your soul and not just your body. You can feel yourself starting to go again, starting to ride the crest of that wave when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again and you can barely breathe, noises catching in your throat at the sight. 

“That’s it sweet, that’s it sugar, look at yourself,” He wraps an arm over your chest and grips your chin, pointing it straight at the mirror, “Look at us honey.” You can see him behind you, behind your flushed body - himself pink and damp with sweat from the exertion, its practically dripping down his forehead and onto his chest - he lets go of your chin and moves one hand to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples, the other to slip between your legs. You jerk when he strokes where the two of you are joined. It’s filthy. You’ve never been this visible like this before, having very much been under the covers with previous lovers, and your knowledge of positions was limited to on your back, on your front and your side. Very much lying down. The image of his cock sliding into your folds, the pink fuzzy base barely visible through your own fuzz and his hand splayed over your stomach as if supporting where he sits internally is filthy in the best possible way. 

You feel utterly surrounded by him, you can’t think of anything but how he feels, how he looks, you can’t sense anything else. You can’t see anything but him, it’s all him as you look around - the mirrors on the back wall and above you reflect back the image of the two of you, but your eyes skip over yourself only seeing him. His thick form. He’s muscular in a solid way, an accidental way, and the layer of softness that covers all of him, but especially over his tummy, only makes him more attractive to you, more real. When you close your eyes the vision of him is imprinted on your eyelids, and all you can smell is him. He’s got a slight sweaty musk to him from the exertion and activity, but under it you can still smell the hint of his cologne. His sheets smell aggressively like him, like the Vegas him and the home him - he must use the same products (or his laundry service must) wherever he is. The room too - there’s his unique blend of homely smells but also the heavy scent of the blend of his favourite specific brands of cigarettes and cigars. The smoke, despite him claiming he only smoked very irregularly, clings to his thick curtains and the drapes that surround the room. The room which screams, as much as the rest of his house does, of him - of solely him, of his outrageous, outlandish, tacky, wonderful, style. 

You aren’t able to have any of these thoughts though, as his fingers stroke himself before once again finding your clit. He captures it between his fingers, rolling it, before brushing his finger over it and before you know it you’re quivering - shaking as your orgasm overcomes you again. It’s too much, your body has barely had a chance to recover and while you’re not passed out you’re also not…all there. Your body slack as Elvis holds you up, just a rag doll for him to take what he needs for his own orgasm - chasing his completion. He does, barely a few strokes later, a litany of praises spilling out of his mouth, pulling out as quickly as he could, seemingly caught a little by surprise. And you can feel the last few sprays from him as he splatters over your already sticky and trembling body. You slump down without him holding you up by the waist and hips, and he catches you - laying you out on the bed. He lays next to you, panting, chest heaving for a few moments before propping himself up on an elbow next to you. 

You’re sore, internally and externally and worse - sticky, but he doesn’t let you sleep yet, running his cum-covered fingers through your soft pubic hair, before tracing shapes on your lower tummy, gently brushing lower and lower until his fingers are stroking through your sticky soft folds. You squirm, sleepy, and he hushes you, 

“C’mon baby doll, give me one more, gotta make up for lost time darling. Give em all to you tonight. One more baby, c’mon do it for daddy, give daddy one more.” He’s speaking lowly, so as not to disturb your sleepy state, but what he’s asking you to do is bringing you back to awareness. He’s barely touching you, nudging your little stretched hole with his wet fingers, barely pressing the outer rim before delicately stroking your sore, puffy, clitoris again. You feel your legs shaking, seemingly of their own accord, and can’t focus on anything he says, resorting to begging over top of his continued whispers; 

“I can’t, I can’t, Elvis please, daddy, please, it’s too much, I can’t,” but you’re already so close to the edge that you gasp, mouth open, as he inserts his fingers again, and it only takes him crooking them just so for you to shudder and scream. It’s borderline painful, and your legs are shaking, “Lord, daddy! Oh my god, Elvis, daddy, oh my lord. Oh - “ and as he continues to stroke that little place inside of you, as you ride the waves that wash over you, your words trail off to just noises. You're practically yowling as you slump over, still shuddering and stomach still convulsing when he slows his ministrations and pulls his fingers away. Your vision is white and black and you can't focus on anything he's saying through your ringing ears although you're aware he's talking. It takes a few minutes for your body to calm down, Elvis’ large hands gently rubbing you down like a horse after a race, and it's not until your heart rate slows again that you’re able to open your eyes and try to focus on what he's saying.

“Told you didn’t I, you gonna learn to believe your daddy now? Believe what he tells you?” He’s unbelievably smug and you can hear it in his voice, and in the way his eyes crinkle looking down at you. 

“Course, Daddy,” You blush, “Elvis. Of course, I just - I just didn’t know! I didn’t know what that was…inside me.” He laughs, 

“Well, not everyone can find it doll, it keeps itself real hidden like, less you’re just the right fit.” He squeezes your cheek as he says it before he pats you again and heaves himself up into standing. “Right honey, gonna have to get you all cleaned up - you’ll be drippin’ all night else.” You wince as he wipes at you with a little towel, even his expensive cotton too much abrasion on your still throbbing centre. You roll into the bed, far too exhausted to even stand up, and your eyes are closing as he comes back over with a glass of water, he makes you drink half and you do so, sleepily, while he maintains his grip on the glass. “We’ll have to shower in the morning honey, think you’re fixin’ for a snooze now.” He pulls the top comforter off, throwing it on the floor, and you can just see through your hazy tired gaze that there’s a large wet spot on it. “Least we ain’t gotta change the bed.” He mumbles as he climbs into it. You squirm as he pulls you close against your chest and his hands find their customary positions - one just a little too close to between your thighs but he pets and shushes you, humming a tiny lullaby that makes you fall deep asleep almost immediately.