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soaringwide · 9 days

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PAC: How to enhance your personal allure and beauty? • Glamour Reading

This reading is meant to dive into your own personal glamour and find ways to magnify the way you appear to others, privately or publicly.

Beauty is about weaving illusions in some ways, but the best lies contain a part of truth. How to weave lies and truths to enhance your expression of beauty is what I'm going to try to uncover today, which is why we're going to look both at your natural abilities and untapped potential.

It's something I've wanted to do for a long time since it's a subject that fascinates me, and wanted to test it out in a tarot spread, so a pick a pile readings seems like a good starting point.

If you'd like a personal reading, I'm in the process of opening my website but in the meantime I'm available through DMs.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not apply 100% to you. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 1

Cards: The Hanged Man, Death, The Chariot, Knight of Cups, The Fool, 7 of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I see someone with a strong, magnetic presence that might be intimidating to some people, giving the vibe of someone who is confident and knows what impression they want to give off. You have a very deliberate style and strong personal allure that might lean into darker types of aesthetic, but it would definitely be ornate, romantic (in the true, dramatic sense of the word) and as far away from minimalism as possible. I see you choosing little elements that others might not notice but that are full of meaning and symbolism for you, like a piece of jewellery, or swapping the color of your shoelace or socks to fit into a vision you have in your head. Wearing hats or headpieces might also be something significant for you. You see your clothes and other visual upgrades as some type of armor you wear to feel stronger, more confident, and make a great impression on people around you. You like being noticed and want people to find you beautiful or stylish, but at the same time have very little regard for established rules and like to bring a twist of change in the way you appear to others. It's like you're already practicing glamour naturally, funnily enough, because I see you magnifying your natural talents already and you definitely are shrouded in some type of glamourized, attractive mystery.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from to push yourself even further, i see you as someone who embodies the characteristics of going against expectations when it comes to style and appearances. I get the idea of playing around with gender expression (might not apply to all or be applicable to varying degrees), going against what's commonly assumed to be fitting for your perceived gender to create something unique and different, but it could also simply be about going against common taste. It's about carving out your own path, inspired by yourself and your unique perspective on life, and by extension, on your style and appearance. This is not someone who follows trends and style guides mindlessly, but someone who is not afraid of calling everything into question, in order to incorporate what they choose and add their own unique flair to it. Taste is subjective and it's something you can learn to lean even more into.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see strong Uranus influence, which was already highlighted in your ideal archetypal influence.

There is an elements to finding joy and pleasure in shocking others a little bit. Letting yourself be completely free with your style expression, but keeping personal enjoyment in mind. The goal is not to shock for the sake of being an obnoxious eccentric, but going to the core of what makes you feel empowered and free and fining the graceful pleasure in it. There is also the idea of weaving some type of illusion so that people can never guess what you're going to do next. I think you have an untapped natural talent for manipulating how others see you a little bit. Right now you focus on your personal magnetism, but you could push that even further and endow yourself in whatever illusion you see fit for the time or situation. I see you being able to work on your appearance like a beautiful work of art, following the vision you have in mind.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all, it seems that despite all the great things I said about you, deep down, you feel quite inadequate and vulnerable, which is perhaps why you put so much effort into your ''armor''. I've got to tell you that these doubts are only in your mind and that the powers I describe are felt very strongly by others, they might just never say it or only give you a light compliment, which you don't even take into account. You seem to keep these worry very private and assume everyone can sense that when it's not the case. So yeah I definitely see you are already doing sooo much but it's just in your mind you don't see it, which is the first thing you need to focus on. Because I think that these doubts might influence your stylistic choices to some extent, which would be self-sabotaging your natural and ideal strengths. Therefore, you first need to clear out these thoughts and hurts in order to see yourself as others see you, in your highest potential.

Secondly and once you've done that, you definitely are advised to invest further in your appearance, and by that it could be money but also time, effort and energy. I feel like there is a new direction that is available to you, perhaps to switch things up a little or express some things more intensely. In both cases, the very strong message is to be deliberate in your vision and keep your eyes on this. I think you already do it to some extent, but here we're talking about Glamour, glamour, like, it's not enough to pick a pair of earrings or the color of your top, you need to focus on what it is the impact you want to have on others is, and how to best achieve that, keeping in mind the strong Uranian influences about being your own Icon and breaking boundaries along the way. Really, the next step involves planning and deliberate steps. Don't just throw whatever in your cart but be mindful of what story it's telling and if it aligns with your vision.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 2

Cards: Queen of Cups, 8 of Swords, The Star, The World, The Lovers, The High Priestess, Knight of Cups, The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, 9 of Cups

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

What's actually really interesting is that there seem to be an opposition between constriction vs liberation, as embodied by Saturn in Aquarius qualities. It seems being in touch with your imagination and ideals is natural to you, you appear dreamy but in a melancholic way, a loner that people don't approach easily. People might get the sense that you are lost in your thoughts and that something else is taking your attention. You don't project a strong sun-like charisma, but rather, charm people when they get close to you and get a feel for your rich inner world. You are very authentic in the way you approach your appearance, as in, you don't seek to appear as someone you are not, up to a fault I'd say. Like, if you don't hold a high opinion of yourself that might stop you from dressing how you like because it doesn't feel true in some way. It's also like you feel constricted when you have to follow a dress code and would rather be able to wear whatever puts you at ease in the given situation, but then again it's a problem is you feel weak or stuck because it influences your choices. On top of that, I'm again getting strong ideals, so I would not be surprised if your social or political ideals influence the way your present yourself. Perhaps you have an inclination towards sustainable fashion or cruelty free beauty and it helps you feel more aligned with your inner world.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from revolves around the idea to let your idealistic and creative nature run free, like the waves on the ocean's shore. This hints at a poetic approach to your style and appearance, with the desire to evoke gentle feelings. Your archetypal beauty is one of a siren, enchanting and mysterious. You might benefit from beautifully ornate jewelry, nacre, pearls and shells come to mind, and I'm also getting renaissance inspired aesthetic like cherubs imagery and dramatic silhouettes, rosy cheeks and braided hairstyles. The ocean is wide and mysterious, fascinating and unknowable, and that's definitely an allure you can harness at your highest potential. Even in that configuration, you're still highly focused on your inner world but it appears on the outside as well.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see a few messages.

The thing is that, despite the saturnine influences, you do have raw potential for a more radiant and inviting, shall we say, energy to you. With the Lovers which is connected to Gemini, you can really learn to actually express your rich inner world and come across as communicative and adaptable regardless of the social situation. Balancing out the coldness with warmth and being more inviting if you will. Someone people can't stop looking at, which implies you actually have to get out of your comfort zone and accept being seen by others.

Paired with you natural characteristics, this has the potential to increase your magnetism and make you mysteriously seductive because people will tap into both layers, sensing an inviting and charming first impression but also getting a feel of your deep inner world. There is also the potential to truly express your emotions through your clothes and appearance and thus sticking true to your desire for authenticity. Don't shy away from being creative and even artistic with your appearance. You have a natural inclination toward romantic styles and flowyness (sheer fabrics or silk-like textures) which can make you stand out in a crowd. Approach your style like a dream, something that is felt intensely and that you can get lost in. Play around with color combinations, and I would suggest having fun creating color palettes that evoke specific feelings rather than being minimal because you want to blend in. You can really project a striking vibe with your newfound confidence, with the help of your clothes and beauty care.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all there is a need to change you ways drastically. As we saw, there seem to be an opposition with how people currently see you vs what your potential is. Don't get me wrong, everything is present within you but it's like it's dormant. I sense you being somewhat stuck in your routine and stylistic habits and reluctant to change anything. You are being called to step up and take actions toward change. Dare to wear what makes you feel like your creative and dreamy self. You know yourself well but if you truly want to change the way people see you you have to take deliberate actions towards that. Not by wearing what you think people want but by going to the highest vision you have of yourself.

You would also benefit greatly from a more optimistic outlook on yourself and learn to communicate happiness, ease and expansion. Be more generous with your energy, which means that you don't have to hold everything in in fear of being judged or disliked, but rather learning to stand strong in your individuality and communicate it to others. Not everyone will like it obviously but those who do will be enchanted by your presence.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 3

Cards: Ace of Cups, The Magician, 3 of Pentacles, The Hermit, 9 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles, King of Cups rx, the Fool, 7 of Cups, 3 of Swords

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I get strong Mercury qualities when it comes to how you naturally appear to others. You manage to seduce others with your quick wit and knowledge on many different subjects. It's like, there is nothing you don't have a smart or funny opinion on and people love that about you. You are highly intellectual and I think you like mirroring that in your appearance, favoring established aesthetics and proven formulas, relaying more on your personality than your clothes so to speak. And if clothes you chooses to put the accent on, I see a more traditional and refined approach. Modest and put together. You are meticulous in your choices and don't like appearing messy. Nothing comes in excess, you pay attention to color and texture harmony and like a balanced, classic look. As a result you appear serious and put together to others.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you could embody when pushed to your highest degree, with the Ace of Cups, it is quite abstract than a given aesthetic. I see you having the power to initiate strong positive emotions towards others. Perhaps they admire you or have fond feelings for you, or they may fall in love or become friends with you easily. You make them feel easily connected to you by you presence and allure, you energy having that color that drives people in. It's like, a very friendly and gently type of charisma.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I'm not sure why but I feel a strong rag to riches vibe here. As in, it is possible that you have experienced mental and financial hardship in the past, a situation might have improved to some extent, but that probably isn't fixed completely yet. That left you scarred and you try your best to hide it, which is why it's in the raw power position. I see the potential to use that as a strength to add depth to your character. With the King of Cups reversed, you feel inadequate and undeserving. I'm getting the sense that when it comes to glamour, you can fake it till you make it so to speak. Don't forget we are talking about magnifying your allure and I think there's definitely an air of like, you know who you are and you are aware of your situation, but you don't want to appear that way to others. It's strange because for all pile I got strong impression and aesthetics here, but for you it looks more like something that's dragging you down, which means there's a potential to turn it into a strength in some way. You got the Ace of Cups as ideal archetype and the King of Cups is nothing but the Lord of this Ace, so if you manage to flip it you can embody its quality and empathetic, abundant authority and trigger positive feelings in others. There is also this idea that, even when you make that shift, you won't forget where you come from and will keep being highly empathetic and kind, and that will be part of your charm.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, I notice a strong idea of starting fresh and stepping away from the heartache that plagues you. There is a youthful carelessness to it as well, the idea of opening yourself to the world and see the richness you have within with your larger than life personality. You would benefit from letting that aspect of you loose a bit. You are a bit chaotic at heart and this is so so endearing to many.

Furthermore, don't get too focused on glimmers, as all that shines is not gold. I think you may have a tendency to seek material things to counter or hide your difficulties with money, but here it's all about character expression when it comes to charm people. But be mindful of how you interact with others as to not to appear aloof or unapproachable.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pac tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #divination #tarot #tarot community #tarotblr #soaringwide #spiritual guidance #pick a picture #glamour magic #glamour tarot reading #glamour tarot

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ssavaart · 3 months

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Happy Friday All!

In early 2020 (before Covid), I was painting larger paintings like this with Acryla-Gouache. I was really enjoying the medium.

I was inspired by a couple of photos by Annie Bertram on Deviant Art and asked permission to use them for reference.

Since I was just doing these for myself... I had NO plan. No test drawings. No layouts. I just started drawing on a large piece of paper and figured it out as I went.

Because of this... I never really figured out what to do with the hand on the left.

So... it just kind of disappeared.

I may go back and add it in later, I think.

But, for now... it's always a reminder of a time where I just broke out the paints and... played.

A couple months later... Covid hit and it was 3 years until I did my next large painting (the Gothic Vampire).

(Note: I can't find a reply from the photographer regarding permission or not. My memory is I heard back. But I can't find it.)

I DID hear from the model Theresa Fractale, a couple of years later, who was VERY upset that I had sold some postcards of the painting without her permission.

I was mortified. I hadn't even considered reaching out to the model. I offered her and Annie Bertram all of the profits I made from the sales, but she wasn't satisfied... and we left it at that.

These things DO happen with artists. Sometimes people claim you've "stolen" their art or style or likeness. And sometimes they have legitimate reason to do so.

Me, personally... I believe that artists should use ALL of the world around them for inspiration and if it is HEAVILY influenced by one artist or work of art... CREDIT them.

But change it. Don't directly copy it (unless you're studying someone's work... in which case... copy away).

But always credit.

I believe I REFERENCED the photos above, but didn't copy them.

But, I DID heavily reference them and, honestly, had NO intention of selling it (I still own the painting) or prints (I had only sold a few postcards before being contacted by the model... then stopped).

In any case... if the model or the photographer is unhappy with me selling prints... I don't sell prints. It's that simple.

Their work directly inspired MY work and while I feel that I've changed it enough to be unique... I don't want to cause another artist harm in any way.

Every artist is different. Some are open to sharing their art (like me) and others are very protective of their art.

But, there are no RULES to art. There is no such thing as "cheating" in art. There IS copyright LAW. And that is theft.

But that law ONLY (as far as I know) works if you are SELLING a copy of someone else's work. Profiting from it.

Not for learning. Not for practice. And not for posting online.

Just please... PLEASE credit the artist you're copying. Tell people why you are copying.

Nowadays, if I'm going to do a painting I plan on making prints of, I either use stock photography I've paid for or I get permission and pay the rights holder.

But, this is ONLY for pieces I want to sell prints of.

You do NOT need permission to use photo reference or even copy another artist's work for your portfolio or to post online.

Credit them. Share your inspiration with others. Tell them why you copied the works

But you don't need permission simply to make art. Ever.

Art should be shared. Copied. Studied. And most of all... enjoyed.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

#art #traditional art #artists on tumblr #drawing #art nouveau #fantasy art #gouache painting #acryla gouache #annie bertram

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mrsjellymunson · 6 months

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The Biology Tutor

📕 Lesson 1: Female Anatomy

Continue studying: Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction | Extra Credit 01: Communication Skills

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Summary: Eddie’s failing class, so you decide to offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

W/C: something around 4k (I didn’t do a word count after editing, sorry)

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, NSFW, PWP, smut with a story. Exhibitionism (f), mutual masturbation (m+f), swearing, innuendo, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, subtle size kink? Both Reader & Eddie are overage. No y/n. Reader’s appearance is not described, it can be whatever you like.

A/N: A cute little bit of biology lesson-based smut. I’m a sucker for virgin!Eddie and wanted to see if I could write him. Let me know how I did! 😄

My masterlist

You’ve had a crush on the guy in your Biology class since the beginning of the year when you first saw him ranting on a table in the cafeteria. There’s something about him that’s so different from the guys you’d usually go for. You run in completely different social circles, you with the academically-gifted ‘Brainy Bunch’ (an eye-rollingly terrible moniker coined by the we-think-we’re-so-clever jocks), and him with his nerdy friends. Despite this you find him unusual and intriguing, not to mention hot as all hell. You guess the ‘freak metalhead’ look doesn’t work for everyone, but his long hair and rebellious dark ink are certainly doing it for you. You really want to discover what’s underneath those layers of denim, leather and torn shirts, your imagination only able to go so far as you ponder his form late at night in your bed.

However, girls talk, and you’ve never heard of him being with any of them, or even speaking to all that many. For all his bravado and apparent confidence, you’re reasonably certain that Eddie Munson is still a virgin.

And for some reason this draws you to him even more.

You’re pretty sure you’ve caught Eddie checking out your ass as it’s perched on a high stool while he sits behind you in the biology lab. On days when you’re in this class you’ve started to wear your tightest jeans, and your shortest skirts (though if anyone asked you’d insist it was a coincidence).

Somehow you’ve become inexplicably clumsy (but only in this class, how odd…), often dropping your pencil and having to bend over to pick it up, occasionally chewing on the end in contemplation when you know he’s watching, much to the chagrin of your teacher.

“Never put anything in your mouth in the lab, you should all know better by now.”

You smirk at the innuendo in Eddie’s direction and he quickly looks away, ears exposed by his lab-regulation tied-back hair a little pink at the tips.

You also often ‘forget’ or ‘lose’ equipment, asking him if he’s got a spare, or could he please get you a replacement from the cupboards, which he’s always more than willing to do (giving you ample opportunities to observe his denim-clad ass as he does so).

“Damn, I seem to be one test tube short. Eddie, would you be a doll and get me one from the cupboard?”, crossing your legs and subtly ensuring the hem of your skirt rides up just a little more.

Eddie looks you up and down (result!) and agrees.

“Thanks, you really are my knight in shiny, um, leather?” You wince slightly at your clumsy comment, but he takes it in his stride, continuing the bit by replying,

“Here you go, your majesty”, bowing theatrically and presenting the glassware to you atop his forearm, making you grin.

In another lesson: “Shit, I tore my filter. Eddie, do you have a spare?”

“Anything for the Princess of Biology.”

He gives you a little smirk, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly. You can’t help gazing at his strong, ring-clad hands as he hands you the little circle of absorbent paper.

It becomes somewhat of a game, you playing the Princess and he the rescuing knight.

But for all your teasing you genuinely do actually want to help him pass the class. You don’t want him to have to repeat the year - you’ve seen him play at The Hideout and you know he’s meant for greater things.

It’s just biology, it can’t be any harder than what little you’ve picked up about that complicated game he plays, which seems to be all numbers, convoluted plots and organising “campaigns”, whatever they are. You’re sure he could pass if he’d just apply himself.

Or, perhaps, he just needs the right tutor…?

You’d broached it with your science teacher, offering to help ‘any students who were behind’ for extra credits. After he’d agreed you’d approached Eddie that same day, offering to come to his home and help him with his overdue assignments.

He was confused and skeptical at first, thinking this could all be some elaborate prank, but you were gentle and persuasive, and he’d agreed to pick you up later that day.

You’re sitting on his worn-out sofa, draped with a well loved but soft blanket. You’ve spent the last hour trying to get Eddie to understand cellular respiration (“Isn’t it just, like, breathing in and out?” “No, Eddie, this is cell biochemistry, it’s a bit more complicated than that”), but nothing you attempt seems to be working.

He’s despondent, won’t look at you, and seems resigned to his fate of never passing this particular subject, interjecting with statements like,

“Look, it’s just not going in.”

“I don’t know how to make it stick.”

“I don’t think I’ll get it, Princess, even if you beat it into me.”

The innuendo (accidental or not) is driving you crazy. As is Eddie’s lack of self belief.

You’d even tried explaining it by using D&D analogies.

“Think of the chemical reactions like individual characters interacting in groups. Like, if this particular troupe disband and some make allegiances with another, the group has different skills and attributes now, right?” But after a promising start even that doesn’t seem to hold his attention.

In fact, the more animated you get and closer you sit, the more distracted and fidgety he becomes, unwilling to engage fully with you and shifting uncomfortably.

You move further towards him on the sofa, determined to give it one last shot, and force him to make eye contact with you.

Their colour and depth surprises you as you look into them properly for the first time, noticing their rich, swirling chocolate and whiskey hues.

Your eyes briefly drop to his lips, the soft pink, plump, velvety pillows looking mightily enticing. God, they’re perfect.

Goosebumps rise on your arm as you feel his surprisingly soft curls tickle your shoulder.

Okay, you knew he was cute, but up close? Fucking hell…

You lean across your notes and over to the text book that’s on his other side. Your thighs are touching, and as you twist the side of your breast makes contact with his arm. If he looked slightly down and towards you he’d be able to see right down the neck of your tank top. You kind of hope he does.

Huffing, you prod at the book with your hand, hoping that the diagram on the page might make everything clearer. The movement makes your boobs jiggle a little.

You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped breathing and he suddenly lets out a huff of breath, covering it with a badly faked cough. His cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink.

So, you definitely weren’t imagining all that stuff in class.

Fuck it. You consider this might be the only opportunity you might get to do this, so decide to grab it. After all, academic tutelage was only part of your motivation to get him alone, and something you’ve been thinking about for a long time, one of the fantasies that keeps you up at night, pops into your head. One that would definitely get his attention. And if you can’t help his confidence academically, perhaps you can help with it somewhere else. Call it interpersonal tutelage…?

With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you say, “Um, maybe we should take a break. Y’know, relax a little?”

You scootch away to the end of the sofa, putting your back against the armrest and bringing your feet up onto the cushion in front of you. You grab a couple of throw cushions and slot them behind you, getting comfortable.

Eddie seems to relax a little too once you’ve moved away, but still looks uneasy.

God, are you really going to do this? What if he screams and runs away, or worse, tells his friends, or your classmates..? No, you’ve been thinking about this for far too long. Oh, fuck it x 2…

Feigning a stretch, you arch your back and place your hands at the back of your waist, pushing your chest, and breasts, upwards. Then you move them to the sides of your ribs, glancing over the sides of your boobs, seemingly-innocently pushing them together. You move a hand underneath one of your breasts, cupping it gently in the crook of your thumb and forefinger.

Eddie is still sitting tensely on the front edge of the sofa cushions, stealing sideways glances at you through the curtain of his hair.

“C’mon, Eddie, get comfy with me. It’ll help, I promise.”

Self-consciously, Eddie shifts himself and sits facing you, cross-legged, at the other end of the sofa. You give him a soft smile, which he returns with a slightly bashful one of his own, afterwards rolling his lips inwards between his teeth.

Okay, it’s now or never. Are you gonna be able to concentrate on this, Eddie?

You hum quietly, and almost closing your eyes you run a palm down your chest and over your belly. You drop one knee slightly out to the side, and run your hand down the inside of your thigh and back up it, eventually pushing your fingers between your thighs and cupping your mound with your palm.

You see Eddie’s eyes widen and hear a stifled choke.

Your hand moves to fully cup your breast, and you lightly trace your thumb over your hardening nipple whilst the hand between your legs begins to apply gentle pressure, making you inhale deeply.

Eddie watches you, agape, bringing his hands together and clasping one hand over the other in front of him, you surmise to disguise his burgeoning bulge.

You open your eyes a little, keeping them soft and half lidded, and gently smile in Eddie’s direction, ensuring he’s still watching you.

Using both hands to pop the button and lower the zipper on your jeans, you tease yourself by running the pretty elastic trim of your your panties between your fingertips, pulling it slightly away from you and letting it snap back onto your abdomen.

“Uh…”, he swallows hard, and you internally groan at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in that delicious neck, “What’re you doing..?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie? I’m… relaxing…”

Sighing out the last word, you choose this moment to slip your hand down the front of your underwear, sliding over your mound and dipping just the tip of one finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that’s already pooled there. Your forehead furrows a little and you let out a quiet, contented hum.

Eddie’s eyes widen further and his eyebrows disappear completely under his bangs, and he sounds a little like he’s suffocating.

He tries to move further away from you along the sofa, unsuccessfully however as he’s wedged against the other armrest.

“Uh, I can, y’know, leave, or you could use my room, or, I can take you home, or, or-”

He’s babbling, and looking everywhere but at you. That’s not what you want at all, and you’re also concerned that he looks so uncomfortable.

“I can stop, if you want…”

He rushes out a reply, almost shouting the first syllable.

“N-NO! Um, no, it’s okay, really.”

“Okay, Eddie, stay right there. Keep your eyes on me, I wanna give you a show.”

He looks even more shocked, jaw dropping open, and you think he might bolt. But after a moment it’s clear that despite being full of anxiety, fear and self-consciousness, his curiosity, hormones and horniness are winning out, and he fixes his gaze on you.

He manages to squeak out, “Ok-aay…”

You lift your hips, using both hands to push your jeans and underwear down your legs until they reach your ankles. You slowly splay your knees, finally exposing yourself fully to Eddie’s gaze. One hand comes back to your breast, and you pinch your fabric-covered nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

He takes in the sight before him, the soft fur around your core, your wet folds glistening in the dim light of his living room, your sultry gaze, the peaks of your hardened nipples now visible through the thin fabric of your top.

He lets out a stuttering breath as his hips involuntarily shift underneath him, trying to find some friction.

“Jeezus fuck, Princess, are you tryin’a kill me?”

You try to think of something that might help relax him.

“If it helps you can imagine that we’re still studying. How about a quick lesson in female anatomy..?”

You move your hand down and with featherlight touches trace your fingertips around your pussy.

“Now, this whole area is my vulva.”

Eddie gulps.

Making a vertical line you trace your fingers over your wet lips.

“These are my labia.”

Eddie’s lips press together and he lets out a stammering hum, closing his eyes momentarily before snapping them back open so he doesn’t miss a thing.

“Are you paying attention, Eddie? This part is really important. This-,” you inhale sharply as you trail your wet fingers upwards and make contact, “This is where you’ll find my clit- fuck-”

It feels so delicious you almost don’t manage to finish your sentence, and you let out a long, low hum. Part of you doesn’t want to stop, but you’ve got more planned. Moving your fingers down again, you say,

“And this, here? This is my vagina…”

With a smile, you watch him stare as you dip a fingertip into your sopping hole, letting out a low moan as you gradually slip it inside of you.

“You know what the g-spot is, Eddie? I can show you where to find it, if you want me to…?”

You slide your finger in further, curling it towards your front wall, almost managing to tickle that certain spot within and letting out a loud groan.

At the other end of the sofa Eddie gasps an inhale, whimpering slightly, and you see him press the heel of his hand into his crotch. The combination of his sounds and actions is making you impossibly wetter - the boys you’ve been with before didn’t do much of either, and you didn’t know how much it turned you on.

You watch his face as he stares intently at your weeping centre as you slowly, so slowly move your finger in and out a few times.

“D’you think you’ll remember that, Eddie?”

“I promise I’ll fuckin’ try, Jesus Christ…”

He swallows again, exhaling heavily.

Deciding it’s time for the main event, you bring the hand that was squeezing your breast down your body, moving your fingertips to your clit and applying gentle pressure.

“I want you to see how wet you make me, Eddie. I want you to know how much I enjoy you watching my ass in biology class, how often I’ve thought about it when I’m alone. How much I like checking yours out in those oh-so tight jean- oh!”

A particularly exquisite circle followed by a firm press on your clit makes you moan out loud. The combination of both your hands has you close, closer than you imagined you’d be at this stage. It takes much longer when you’re by yourself, and you’re surprised and excited by just how much you’re enjoying having Eddie watch you.

Eddie’s fully gripping himself through his jeans now and is breathing heavily through his nose. He looks big, and you salivate at the thought.

You really want to see what he’s been hiding inside that tight denim.

“Show me, Eddie, I wanna see you.”

Hesitantly, never having experienced anything even close to this before, Eddie mumbles,

“You, uh…?”

“I wanna see you. Take out your cock. Let me see all of you, please.”

He’s rubbing himself, and you can see how strained his jeans are, a wet stain now visible in the dark fabric.

Slowly, eyes never leaving your face and looking for any tiny indication that you’re uncomfortable or have changed your mind, he slowly undoes his button and pulls down his zipper.

His languid pace is killing you, but in a good way; you realise he most likely has no idea what this is doing to you.

He rearranges the front of his jeans, opening the fly wide and leaving nothing but a thin layer of checkered cotton covering his member. The tent it’s creating is impressive.

He watches you stare and run your wet tongue over your bottom lip.

Letting out a nervous breath between pursed lips, he pushes one hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, using his thumb and two fingers to hold his cock at the base. Using his other hand he slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulls the fabric out and downwards, gradually exposing his full member to the lights of the room and to you.

You pause your own movements and spend a moment taking it in. It’s long, with an impressive girth - you briefly wonder whether he knows what he’s packing - and it’s the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. Lengthy, veined, slightly curved, and thick, so thick.

Eddie watches your expression for a moment. Satisfied that you’re not freaked or about to run away screaming, he brings the rest of his fingers to join the others, wrapping himself fully in his fist and squeezing gently, causing a little bead of precum to collect on the tip.

You take in the sight before you for a few moments, then utter, completely honestly, “Eddie, in case no one’s ever told you this, you have a really beautiful dick.”

His face and neck turn the second-prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.

“No one’s ever told me that before, Princess.” Adding, almost in a whisper, “In fact, no one’s ever seen it.”

He chuckles lightly through that last sentence, embarrassed at what he’s just admitted. The ego boost of your comments has clearly given him some confidence though, as he adds with a slight smirk, a little breathy as he runs the pad of his thumb unhurriedly over his tip, “You, uh, really think so?”

Oh, so he likes me watching him too?

You can’t take your eyes off of it.

“I really do, Eddie. It’s so pretty.”

As if to confirm your statement you resume your hand movements, adding another finger and resuming circling your clit with the other. You notice that Eddie’s started moving too, his hand moving over himself in a deft gripping and twisting motion, his hips bucking up every now and again.

For a few moments neither of you say anything, the only sounds in the room your combined panting breaths and the lewd movements of wet skin.

Your clit is swollen and supremely sensitive, and, pushing in a little further, your fingers just tickle that exquisite spot within you.

You moan as you imagine it’s Eddie’s pretty cock inside you. That he’s leaning over you, thrusting into you, hitting that spot effortlessly. Maybe even talking to you, telling you how good your pussy feels, how well you’re taking him…

Suddenly your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth hangs open, a gutteral moan emerging from your chest as you get closer and closer.

Bringing your attention back to him you mumble, hurriedly,

“Jeezus Eddie, I’m gonna cum, you wanna see me cum?”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life.”

Eddie’s words come out in a spluttering rush and on his last word your breathing halts, your muscles lock and you cum, hard, clenching around your fingers and letting out an involuntary strangled scream.

Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you think you hear Eddie let out a loud, “Holy shhhiiiit!”

You come down a little, opening your eyes and locking them with Eddie’s. You ride out your aftershocks, humming as you feel your fingers inside of you and your juices running down them. You eventually remove your fingers from your cunt, leaving its puffy wetness fully on display, and trace them around your lips and clit.

“F-fuck, Princess, that’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen…”

Eddie’s red-faced and panting, his cock still very much standing to attention in his now vice-like grip, the tip an angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum. His eyes are blown dark, the chocolate rims almost completely obscured. His face and neck are flushed and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he’s clenching his jaw, looking like he’s trying desperately not to bust.

“Are you ok over there, Eddie?”

“Shit, yeah, yes, I mean, fuck.”

Breathily, you ask him,

“Do you wanna cum?”

“Fuck yes, I just, I didn’t know whether you wanted me to.”

“Oh I do Eddie, I really do. It’s your turn now. You gonna cum for me? Please, let me see you lose it, show me everything you’ve got.”

He breathes out a loud sigh in what seems like relief. You like how good he’s being for you, learning yet more about yourself that you didn’t know before.

His fist speeds up as his other hand comes to hold his balls, deftly stroking and rolling the flesh. His brow furrows deeply and his lips clamp shut around a low moan. He’s staring intently at you, eyes flicking between your face and your still-dripping cunt.

Suddenly his expression turns to one resembling surprise, as his eyebrows lift and his mouth opens, a string of expletives leaving those perfect, plump lips,

“Fuck, fuck, Jeezus, motherf-, oh my-, fuckfuckfuuuck!”

His jaw drops as his abdomen contracts, and his eyes fix on your cunt as he jets hot ropes of white cum into the air and over his fist and t-shirt. There’s so much, and it seems never ending.

The sight is even better than you’d imagined it might be and your hips buck up into your hand, making you press your fingers into your clit again triggering another aftershock, and you find yourself moaning along with him.

For a few moments there’s more silence, aside from your panting and heavy breathing.

Eventually Eddie chuckles a little, and you huff a breath out through your nose with a smile on your face.

You’re both a sweaty, sticky mess, but neither of you care.

“Fuck, Eddie, that was…” You’re lost for words.

“Amazing? Incredible?” Seeing the grin plastered across Eddie’s face is easily as gratifying as all the other stuff you’ve done tonight.

You both giggle as Eddie says, “Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely the best tutor I’ve ever had.”

Neither of you really want to move, but some cleanup is definitely necessary. Eddie takes the blanket from the sofa and throws it in the washer, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom, letting you know when it’s free and returning in a change of clothes, throwing the others in with the blanket.

As you both process what’s just transpired you share timid glances and half smiles.

You both sit on the sofa again as you start to pack up your notes and books. In another unforeseen realisation, you’re surprised at how much you’ve enjoyed Eddie’s company, and the warm feeling you get inside every time he looks at you is entirely unexpected.

You realise you’re gonna have to be the one to say something, and give Eddie a smirk.

“So, how about next time we do some practical revision on, maybe, male anatomy?”

He looks a little surprised, but certainly not unhappy at the suggestion that there might actually be a ‘next time’.

“You really wanna, uh, tutor me again?”

Nodding in the affirmative, you reply, “Oh yeah, I think we’ve both learned a lot this afternoon.”

Holding his gaze, you suggest,

“Same time next week..?”

Continue studying with Lesson 2: Male anatomy

A/N 2: I’ve been having thoughts about making this a miniseries, so please let me know if you’d like to see a second “lesson” 😉

Thanks so much for reading!

Likes are great, but please also consider supporting writers with comments and reblogs - they help fics get seen, and it genuinely means the world! 🌍 ❤️

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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

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Chapter 14 - Speed, I am Speed

WE'VE MADE IT TO THE 2024 SEASON. IT IS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!

When I started this fanfic, I never would have thought that people would be interested in it enough for it to get past the first few chapters. But everyone has proved me wrong! Here's to a great fictional season!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN - 6 SPOTS LEFT!

Screams echoed through the paddock as whispers of your arrival seeped through the cracks of the buildings. The drivers watched with smiles as crowds of girls, boys, and adults alike flooded the entrance area to maybe catch of glimpse of you. Only a select few would be lucky enough to get a signature or for you to even take what they offered. But that didn’t damped the electric atmosphere that was quickly building.

The moment you scanned your card and stepped through the turn-style, all hell broke loose.

Max stood next to Christian in the garage that was placed in the middle. The Ferrari garage was to the right, and McLaren sat to the left.

“Quite popular. Isn’t she?” a stray mechanic commented as he worked on one of the RB20s.

Christian only smirked. “She’s great for the media that’s for sure.”

Max stepped through the entrance to wait for you. He was already in his Red Bull kit with a signature can in his grasp. He watched as you quickly signed multiple things and stopped to take few pictures. He noticed that you really only stood still for the squirming kids who really looked nervous to be next to you.

You were hastily ushered farther into the paddock as you were a tad bit late. The outfit you had on was similar to Max. Jeans adorned your legs while a Red Bull polo was hidden behind your famous blue bomber jacket. Dark red sneakers completed the look. A winter flavored red bull sat comfortably in your hand. You had talked to Max about how the flavor was far superior than his preferred original. He would only eyeroll and then sip his own can.

A bright smile shone on your face as the cameras clicked around you. Video cameras followed your every move.

Lando and Charles had joined Max. They too were in their respective Ferrari and McLaren kits. The bright orange clashed with the bright red, while Max was the neutral navy between. Some cameras were pointed their way hoping to get a few shots of a not so common friendship and a decade old rivalry turned friendship. Yet, the trio’s attention was all on you.

You had finally gotten to the garage. However, you completely missed the three and walked right in, excited to greet your mechanics, Christian, pit crew, and Mitch. The one thing the crew all liked about you was that you made sure to try to say hello and check in with how they were doing.

You had surprised everyone with coffees or other drinks for preseason testing as a way to share your appreciation.

As you went around the garage, you gave a quick side hug to Christian and then walked over to Mitch. Your eyes lit up at the sight of another familiar figure next to your strategist. You stood and talked to the two.

While you stood there, completely oblivious to the three men standing outside, they of course didn’t miss anything.

Lando stood there with open eyes. “Did she just walk right past us?”

Max just continued to be unbothered and sipped his drink.

Charles had a familiar knowing look in his eyes. “Who is she talking to mate?”

The British driver scoffed and waved his hand. “Her strategist.”

The Dutchman sighed before maneuvering the papaya man to a better angle.

“Can you see now?” The driver in red questioned as he smirked at the now visible scene.

“Oh.”

The three stared as you talked to your best friend, who was now clad in a Sky Sports polo and khaki pants. You threw your head back as you laughed at something the younger Monegasque had said. Mitch also chuckled where she stood.

Finally, your head turned and eyes made contact with steel blue ones. Your smile somehow got even bigger at the sight of the Dutchman and you other friends. You said something short to the two around you. Arthur gave you a side hug before he ducked out the side entrance, probably going to get ready for the driver’s parade. You’d hope that he was the one to interview you.

You were now making your way to the other three drivers. Your maroon Red Bull was still in your hands.

“Top of the afternoon to you gentlemen,” you spoke in a posh accent. Lando rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up that was a good impression. You’re just a hater.”

“As if. You live there now, you could at least learn how to properly speak.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You barely live there anyway now. You should be talking like Charles if you expect me to be able to finesse a British accent.”

“Oh so now I have to speak in some hoity toity French accent?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused Charles.”

“Stay out of this Max.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re all pretty, but let’s save the fighting for the track,” a new voice that was attached to one Oscar Piastri sounded as he walked up to the four of you.

“What’s up pastry?” you asked him. “And where is your better half?” Your eyes ran wild around the paddock.

“Uh who?”

“You know? The smell of gunpowder and the cry of eagles follow him where ever he walks?”

Oscar sent you a deadpan look and sighed like a middle-aged dad. He turned just a bit to show the bright blue suit that belonged to the American Williams driver. He was looking at an iPad before he suddenly sensed five pairs of eyes on him. He looked up, grinned stupidly, and waved. You were glad to wave back, while the four men waved small ones.

“He’s such an iPad kid.”

“So are you,” Max finally. You squawked like a bird as you stared at him.

“If I’m one, so is Lando. Mr. I play Fortnite all the time.”

Charles was done with your bickering. “Oscar did you need something?”

The Aussie looked so done with everything, but perked up at the question. “Yes. Zach sent me to fetch Lando. We need to get ready for the parade.”

A look of enlightenment crossed over both Lando and Charles’s faces as they said quick goodbyes before turning to go back to their own garages. That left you and Max to stand out in the open. He closed the gap between you and wrapped an arm around you. At that motion, multiple cameras clicked but the two of you didn’t care.

“Are you ready for today?” he asked as the two of you walked into the garage where you’d be escorted to the parade.

“Yep! I mean, you’re starting pole and I’m starting P6, so we’ll see what happens.” Your shoulders raised in a shrug.

“Kid that’s good for your first race.”

“I know. I think I thought that I’d be higher up.”

Max squeezed you a little tighter. “You just have to worry about overtaking George, Lewis, and Lando. Once you get them, you could be forecast for a podium.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d be happy with just staying in the points.”

Christian clapped the your backs as you passed him to line up in the back for the parade. You found a small corner of the room to just sit in. Your headphones had been given to you in your garage, and classical piano music filled the speakers. You knew you probably looked so anti-social right now, but you didn’t care. You needed to find your calm before the storm hit.

Many drivers didn’t even send you a second glance, yet one found himself on the floor next to you. The Monegasque’s cologne filled your nostrils as you put your head on his shoulder. You flashed him a thankful grin as you showed your phone screen.

MON23 was the song that was currently flooding your headphones. Charles rolled his eyes, but the smile stayed on his face. Max was the one to come get the two of you once the signal was given that the parade was about to start. You and Max walked out together, and there was Arthur, ready with his microphone.

He turned to the camera that was in front of you. “I am joined by Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n. Thank you for joining me, even if you didn’t have a choice.”

Max and you let out a laugh at the comment.

He continued. “So we saw some domination from the RB20 in the free practices with you Max snatching P1, P2, and then P3 respectively and then taking Pole Position for the first race of 2024. How is the car handling this year and do you expect the same amount of untouchable-ness as last year?”

The Dutchman leaned into the microphone, while you stood next to him waving at the spectators.

“Yeah, well we saw that the Ferraris and McLarens were going to be close after the preseason testing. I was glad that I was able to take pole. I know this one,” he pointed at you which made your attention shift to the conversation, “was wanting a higher position. But the car is fantastic, yet I think that it’ll be a closer year.”

Arthur looked happy with the question as he turned to you.

“So Y/n, we know you’re starting P6. What are you plans for that?”

You huffed as you now talked into the microphone. “Well I plan to just fight as hard as I can. I know that Max and I have very different strategies today. But, overall we just want to bring as many points to get a jump start on the Constructors.”

You were given a nod from some personelle signaling that it was time to wrap thing up.

Arthur turned back to the camera. “Well thank you both for your time and best of luck!”

The two of you were led to a car with an open top. Thankfully for this time, you and Max would be together. Funny enough, they told you to drive. Your eyes widened so much when they handed the keys to you.

You kept turning around asking if this information was correct. Max was just sitting in the car laughing. You climbed in and turned the car on. Once the parade started, you pushed the gas pedal and the car started to move.

The lap around the track was a nice one. Max and you made small talk while waving to the crowds who seemed to yell louder when your attention was turned to them.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself in your race suit and helmet in your hand, going over your race strategy one more time with Mitch.

She explained it once more. “So by turn one, you need to be up at least two places. You need to get the jump on George, Lando, and Lewis. They tend to go inside, so going wide will be your best friend even if it seems tricky. You're faster than they are. Try to get up to Max who can give you a tow if needed. And kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Just have fun. Points are points. You don’t need a podium to show your worth.”

You nodded at her revelation and put your balaclava on. Arthur had somehow snuck in to do your handshake beforehand. He knew that it would calm you down just a bit. You slipped your helmet on and connected the different wires. With one foot over the car and the other following suit, you quickly adjusted your race suit before slipping down into the car. One of the mechanics put the screen on the nose for you to go over data and tyre degradation one more time. Your eyes flickered across the screen before it was taken away and your car was pushed out.

At that time, you put your visor down. Your fingers touched where your lips would have been without your helmet and rose to the air. A second ritual you would call it – a special motion for your godfather.

Starting Grid:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Lando Norris

George Russel

Y/n L/n

Oscar Piastri

Fernando Alonso

Carlos Sainz

Alex Albon

Lance Stroll

Logan Sargeant

Pierre Gasly

Yuki Tsonda

Daniel Ricciardo

Esteban Ocon

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Valtteri Bottas

Nico Hulkenberg

They put your car on the P6 grid mark and stayed near with the tyre covers. The five guys smiled as you began to move about, nerves making it hard to stay still. Your eyes closed and a smile made its way to your lips.

“Speed. I am speed. One winner, nineteen losers. I eat losers for breakfast.”

“Kid, you know the radio is on right?”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of Mitch’s voice.

“Uh now I do.”

Her chuckle came through the speakers in your headphones that where under all the face layers.

“At least we know the radio is working.”

One of the men must have gotten the signal because the tire covers came off and everyone who wasn’t a driver fled the scene. Up ahead, you noticed Max start to drive off. After him was Charles, then Lewis, then Lando, then George. And now it was your turn. Using the pedals, you gently eased your car into movement. You were starting on softs. The team had let you know that you were going for a three stop strategy. Softs, hards, then finish the race on softs. Max was going for the soft, soft, and then hards.

The team were hoping that by putting you on the softs, you’d be able to help Max with the last stint of the race. Softs were your specialty, especially used softs. So the last bit of the race should be your fastest.

Your formation lap consisted of weaving back and forth, warming the tyres up and getting them ready to grip the track. Once you were back in your spot, you were careful not to go over the line and stay in the half box. Your eyes shifted up to watch the lights.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Inhale. Exhale.

Blink.

Your feet hit the pedals before your mind even comprehended. Your head swerved back and forth to look at your mirrors. Behind you, there was the dark green Aston Martin of Fernando Alonso and the other papaya colored McLaren of Oscar. However, the beginning of this track was a giant straight.

With tyres still warm, you quickly got into George’s slip stream and made your move.

For the viewers everywhere, Croft’s voice rang out.

“And it’s lights out and away we go!

"Max Verstappen gets the upper hand on Charles Leclerc on that initial jump but Leclerc is not giving up just yet.

"There goes the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton right behind Charles Leclerc as they go into the first corner of this race. Seems like Leclerc was able to keep his position.

"Oh! And around the outside is Y/n L/n getting the jump on both George Russell and Lando Norris! An overtake on the outside is really tricky but she has made it work for her favor. This rookie is making moves right out the bat.

"I see we have some congestion in the back. Looks like the Haas of Kevin Magnussen has found the side of Alfa Romeo of Valtteri Bottas.

"Let’s have a replay of that beginning shall we? We’ll start onboard with our rookie.”

The camera is on your car as the viewers can see the lights go out and your car lurches forward at the start. Your head swivels as it seems like you’re making sure not to hit the Aston or McLaren that were behind you.

But once you found George Russell’s slip stream, your head stayed straight as you exited to the left of George to go around the outside of both the Mercedes and Lando’s McLaren. As your RB20 continued forward George and Lando quickly left your camera’s view as you now had seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton in your sights.

“And what a great overtake that was on L/n’s part. Let’s head back to see that little kiss between the Alfa and Haas.”

You had now found yourself right behind the Mercedes. Yes, they possibly had the faster car, but you had the pace.

And you were gaining.

You pressed the radio button. “Gap to Hamilton?”

Mitch was quick to respond. “Two point three-seven behind. But you’re gaining two tenths a lap. Keep it up.”

“Thank you.”

In the next nine laps, you were right behind him.

“What is the gap to Leclerc after I get around Hamilton?

“Five seconds. But we will pit before you get there. You have about five laps left before tyre degradation gets too terrible. Use three to get around him and two to widen the gap.”

“Perfect.”

Yet, in about two laps you were right on his tail. Using DRS, you were able to get him on turns 14 and 15 as the DRS was coming to an end.

“And it looks like Y/n L/n is about to make her move on Lewis Hamilton! She goes wide once more on turn 14 and cuts him off by going deep into turn 15, does she have it?

"She does! What a move!”

You fly down the straight with Lewis trying to get back ahead of you. Yet, you were quick with the defensive moves.

“Hamilton is not giving up that spot. Will he be able to take it back at the corner of turn one? He does not gain the position back and has to be fine with fourth for now.”

“Good job. Keep it up.”

“I’m trying,” your voice rattled. In three laps you were called into the pits.

“Looks like Red Bull is calling L/n into the pits for her first stop. Now drivers are losing about 15 seconds so this will put her down back to P8 right after the Ferrari of Carlos Sainz who has gained to positions since the start 14 laps ago.

"And that is a 2.0 second pit stop. Phenomenal for Red Bull whose pit crew seemed to be bored this winter break.”

“Good stop. Can you let the boys know?”

“On it kid.”

“Looks like L/n wants a message relayed to the crew. What a sweetheart she is.”

You apparently were the first one to start the pit stop train, because either one, two, or three laps later the pits were full with cars coming in and out. Like strategy, you were now on hards. Yes, they weren’t your preference but, you needed to change the tyre type at least once during the race: it was mandatory.

You somehow were leading the Bahrain Grand Prix. For about the second half.

Surprisingly, Max had gotten overtaken by Charles right out of the pit exit. You knew you needed to extend the gap between you and the Monegasque Driver, so that you and Max could pit at the same time.

By the 37 lap, you were calling in your radio.

“I need to box. Left tyre is almost dead.”

“Got it. Max is in a good position as well so you will come in and Max will follow. Stay focused.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Looks like the Red Bulls are coming in to box. And who is that as well? Charles Leclerc follows Max Verstappen inside. But there is a significant gap as L/n is already leaving the Bull area with new tyres and Verstappen is getting fixed as well. Leclerc will have to have a perfect pit stop to at least catch up to the two.

"And that is a rather slow stop for Ferrari with a 3.2 second stop. Will this be the mistake that leads to yet another Red Bull 1-2?”

You and Max bolted out of the pit exit once it was safe to do so and you were over the line. You were told to keep giving him the tow for a couple of laps since you were now on the softs while Max was on the hards.

However, after a couple of laps, something seemed off.

You pressed you radio. “It feels like the tyres are wearing down a lot more. Do we have something for that? I could make it to the end, but I might get overtaken.”

“We’re checking. Just keep being nice on the corners. Max has been given the go ahead to overtake you. GP will tell him about your tyres and he should help you keep going.”

“Is this the moment that the Bulls will switch? We know that they’d like to keep their champion at the front as soon as possible. Ah, there it is. Nice pass on the straight going into the fourth corner.”

GP came on over Max’s radio.

“Max, Y/n’s tyres are degrading faster than expected. I’ll keep you updated but she will fall out of DRS or any tow help in about five laps.”

“Are we sure there isn’t anything else to do?”

“Positive. You just keep going. She said that she’s going to try to fend off Leclerc who is gaining 2 tenths per lap but is 3 seconds behind Y/n with 10 more laps to go.”

Max watched you fall out of help-range in the predicted 5 laps. He could catch glimpses of you when he slowed down on the corners but that was about it. All he focused on now was being the first one across the checkered flag.

You were coping brilliantly. By going slower around the corners you were slowing down the tyre deg but also slowing down Charles.

“Gap to Charles and then Max please?”

“Gap to Max is about nine seconds now. And Charles is still gaining and is now in DRS so watch out on the corners.”

“Got it. My tyres are done for and I have no grip. Might be safer to let him pass. I don’t want to pull a George Russell 2023 Singapore.”

“Focus.”

Well, you didn’t thundercunt yourself into a wall, but on the first corner of the last lap, you had a lock up.

“That is a bad lockup for the Red Bull rookie and there goes Leclerc, taking advantage of the small mistake. Props to Y/n though for handling the car well and getting it back on track.”

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed as your car went wide allowing Charles to slip by. “Sorry for the language.”

You turned your radio off, a bit embarrassed and annoyed at yourself, not wanting to hear Mitch’s reply.

You tried desperately to catch back up but it was no use. Your tyres were done as you crossed the finish line in third place. You quickly turned your radio back on.

“And good job Kid with points, third place, and a podium on your first race. Congrats.”

“Aaahhhhh thank you team! This was an experience for sure and I can’t wait for the next one! Sorry for that lock up, we’ll get them next time.” Your hand stuck out the top to wave as you drove significantly slower.

“Wasn’t your fault kid. We’ll go over in debrief. Enjoy the celebration, you earned it.”

Max had already parked in the first place spot as he got out of the RB20. He turned and expected to see you in the second place spot, but was a bit disappointed when he saw his childhood rival. His heart sank for a bit as he thought you might have been overtaken more than once. But his spirits rose when he saw your RB20 pull into the third place.

He watched as you stood on the nose and lifted your arms up in celebration, put one down, and keep the other raised with a fist clenched as you brought it down sharply. He knew the cameras were eating it up.

If his history knowledge was correct, and it usually was, you were the first woman since Lella Lombardi to score points, but were the first one to get on the podium.

You were making history.

And the people were eating it up. Your name was heard above everyone’s. He would meet you in the cool down room.

He was escorted over to the weighing station where he stood for a few moments before going over to the cool down room. He was soon joined by Charles. The two stood like middle-aged dads who were watching their neighbors mow their lawn and silently judging them as they watched the recaps. The main one was your first overtake around the outside.

“Dang she’s quick in that car.”

Max nodded. “Her simulator times were a bit faster than me during testing.”

“I don’t know how then I got around her. Seemed like she was just falling behind the last five laps.”

“My tyres were degrading too quickly and were basically done by the time I crossed the finish line.” You walked into the room, sweat glistening on your forehead where your hair also stuck. Although you hadn’t gotten your second place, third place was still impressive. A smile was probably permanently stuck on your face now.

Max held his arms open for a hug and you dove right in. His hands rubbed up and down your back. Your gaze was now turned to the TV where you watched Lando and Lewis dance for multiple turns before Lewis finally took P4 on the second to last lap.

Charles brought you into a quick hug and kissed your forehead. You wanted to talk some more, but you had been queued to go up to the podiums. You went out first, Charles followed, and then Max. You stood still as the Dutch anthem rung, followed by the Austrian.

And now it was your favorite part. Your grabbed your bottle and shook it, before hauling it up on your shoulder like you always did.

The "champagne cannon" as people liked to call it. You showered the older drivers with the sticky liquid, but was quickly turned against and sprayed as well. You then walked over to the banister and sprayed the team below.

When your bottle was finished you picked up your trophy and made your way down to celebrate with Red Bull.

You quickly found Mitch and gave her a giant hug like you had done once you got out of your car earlier. Christian also gave you a big hug and told you how proud he was of you.

The night for you didn’t last much longer as the adults had said that they were going out to a club to celebrate. You were a bit saddened to hear that you couldn’t come with, being on the podium and all. But, your time would come.

And instead of celebrating, you changed out of your suit and fire proofs and got into comfier clothing. However, you couldn’t stop yawning.

Thinking that Mitch, Christian, or Max would come get you to leave, you lied down on your small bed in your drivers room. An alarm was not set.

Your eyes closed and you fell asleep soon after. Dreams of first place danced behind your eyelids.

You’d get there if it was the last thing you’d do.

skysportsf1 has posted

skysportsf1 we are excited to introduce our main interviewer line up for the 2024 season. David Croft will still lead our main commentary, but we welcome Nico Rosberg, new-comer Arthur Leclerc, and Jensen Button to our team!

liked by formula1_fan, y/n.89, charles_leclerc, y/nxarthur, and 22,830 others

formula1_fan YEESSS so happy to see this trio! maybe we'll actually have good interviews now

y/nxarthur this is just fueling the delulu

leclercbros4life so happy to see Arthur still involved in Formula 1

change_ur_f-car I know right! I would have thought he'd given up charles-marry_ME now he can be near Charles and Y/n all the time y/n-is_my-romanempire I mean, I would have liked it to be Arthur Leclerc "Y/n L/n's Partner" but we'll get there

y/n.89 THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT THERE! WHOO!!!!!!!!!!!

landonorris I think you missed an exclamation mark maxverstappen1 I thought I was your best friend arthur_leclerc sorry mate, but I was here first oscarpiatri he would like to be more tho *this comment was deleted* y/n.nation UH HELLO????

arthur_leclerc thank you for this amazing opportunity!

arthur-4lifers baby boy is BACK

sebastianvettel good to see you here kid! can't wait for the future

f1_fanatic this seems suspicious

RedBullRacing has posted

redbullracing a phenomenal start to the 2024 season with an RB 1-3! See you all in Jeddah!

liked by y/n-on-top, lestappenlove, logansargeant, and 93,822 others

y/n.nation YEAH PODIUM AND POINTS FOR OUR ROOKIE

box_box_offical I totally see her breaking Hamilton's rookie year in points - place your bets here ladies and gents

charles_leclerc glad to share a podium with Max and Y/n, but tell them to watch out next race

y/n.89 yeah, we'll be watching you...in our mirrors as you eat our dust maxverstappen1 what she said

emotional_support_rivals loved the lestappen moment, y/n is their kid at this point

y/n.89 whose last name would I take? maxverstappen1 mine charles_leclerc mine y/n.89 you're both wrong, I'm taking Geri's :) arthur_leclerc hyphenate?

maxiel-lover that start, middle, and finish were just the best

y/n's_version I will have a new Roman Empire every weekend at this point

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 race one of freshman year in the books! first woman since lella to gain some points and first woman to stand on any step on the podium. next stop - the number one spot

liked by martagarcialopez19, liakblock, kellypiquet, and 73,209 others

martagarcialopez19 my hero and role model everyone!

liakblock mine too! y/n.89 gonna cry :(

iamred_iamyellow literally number 1 driver, max get out of the way

redbullracing ROOKIE! ROOKIE! ROOKIE!

y/n.89 ADMIN! ADMIN! ADMIN!

arthur_leclerc favorite girl *liked by y/n.89*

landonorris I'll get you next time

y/n.89 surreeee

hE_tUrned_inTo_mE this was one of the best opening races ever, that double overtake around the outside was amazing

y/n_updates this race is going in the history books

Race Stats:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc +3.583

Y/n L/n +1.264

Lewis Hamilton +2.840

Lando Norris + fastest lap +1.264

Carlos Sainz +1.830

George Russell +2.375

Oscar Piastri +4.284

Alex Albon +3.001

Fernando Alonso +2.904

Logan Sargeant +1.992

Lance Stroll +5.932

Pierre Gasly +6.200

Daniel Ricciardo +1.209

Yuki Tsunoda +2.092

Esteban Ocon +3.871

Zhou Guanyu +6.997

Nico Hulkenberg +8.287

Valtteri Bottas – DNF

Kevin Magnussen – DNF

Driver's Championship Standings:

Max Verstappen – 25 points

Charles Leclerc – 18 points

Y/n L/n – 15 points

Lewis Hamilton – 12 points

Lando Norris – 11 points

Carlos Sainz – 8 points

George Russell – 6 points

Oscar Piastri – 4 points

Alex Albon – 2 points

Fernando Alonso – 1 point

Logan Sargeant – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Esteban Ocon – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

Constructor’s Championship Standings

Red Bull – 40 points

Ferrari – 26 points

Mercedes – 18 points

McLaren – 16 points

Williams – 2 points

Aston Martin – 1 point

Racing Bulls – 0 points

Alpha Romeo – 0 points

Haas – 0 points

Alpine – 0 points

If you want a continuation, read this chapter of Besties for the Resties!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @mellowarcadefun

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ashmouthbooks · 4 months

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2023 in books

better late than never, right?

2023 was a relatively slow year for me in bookbinding, but I still made 30+ books. (ask me how much time I spent on my other hobbies and it becomes clear why books were fewer.)

A5 books

the first A5 of the year was an entry for a bookbinding competition (which I didn't win), where the theme was climate change. I had a lot of fun putting it together and it was the first time I made an A5 tête-bêche book - I usually do these A6 or A7 size.

this was also the year I decided to start a collection of menocchio fics, which also led to experiments with printing directly onto bookcloth to get titles on the spine

what's fun about bookbinding is that you can Just Make A Book, but you can also Get Ideas And Run With Them with it. which is how I wound up with this black on black book. destiel necromancy fic, because of course it is

going back to something more colourful...Ulysses. not the James Joyce one, the slowburn 00Q one. named for a Tennyson poem.

final A5 book of the year is my Renegade Exchange book, which I bound for Silent Sun Press - a Crowley-centric genfic with outsider POV, so naturally I went for TV!Gomens colour schemes

A6 and A7 books

I started the year ambitiously - in addition to entering a competition, I started my urchin specials project. thus far I've still only bound these first three books for the project, but I plan to do more. first dustjackets as well!

I continued with the no-glue pamphlets and did three

I joined the Tiny Books Exchange, and as a proof of concept - before I typeset an A7 sized tête-bêche - I did a little tête-bêche of the two Temeraire fics I wrote for yuletide once upon a time

then followed of course the Tiny Book I bound for the exchange - my copy (test & proof of concept, bottom), the giftee copy (green, top right), and the author copy (blue, top left)

I typeset a lot more than I bind - I have plans to bind so and so, so I typeset it, but don't always have the time to bind it right away. so I have folders full of typesets ready to go at a moment's notice. this one was typeset a whole year before I bound it

are these paperbacks or just very slim hardbacks? I call them paperbacks as I used 0.5mm boards and they have no spine, but ymmv

this one definitely is a hardback - with slightly thicker boards, a spine, and two fics in one book. I do love those tête-bêches

at my work we have a lot of deliveries wrapped in this nice recycled brown paper that was just going into the recycling bin, and I thought: why not make books out of it? so I played around with it (and my printer) and came up with a neat aesthetic for paperbacks with breakaway spines (using 0.5mm boards)

will I ever stop with the tête-bêches? no. also this one has endpapers made from SEAWEED. how cool is that?

the last A6 of the year is this little collection of my own stories for a tiny Danish fandom. detectives and trauma, but make it about food? yes. food and cooking themed endpapers and cover papers, and the dustjacket has fake coffee stains on it. perfect

and that is all, folks. I did a lot of different styles and types of binding this year, I had fun with it, I learned a lot, and I'm happy with what I've created.

#2023 in books #fanbinding #bookbinding

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thelarriefics · 1 month

Text

ABO FIC REC, Part IV: Below are more recent abo fics. (Part I, Part II, Part III)

📖 Unrequited by @babyhoneyheslt (143k)

Omega Prince Harry of England has been engaged to Prince Louis of France ever since he was a young boy. Having met him at four and forming a bond, Harry is upset to find that Louis no longer treats him like a friend, instead treating him coldly. However, Louis has his own dark secrets and Harry doesn’t know just how many dangers linger in French Court.

📖 Tangled in your love and light by @likelarryfics (95k)

Harry doesn't have time for romance or finding an Alpha between balancing work, studying and looking after his daughter, Bella. Enter Louis Tomlinson who's a romantic sweet Alpha, determined to win the omegas heart and turns Harry's whole world upside down, making him question everything he's ever wanted and known.

📖 Secrets in Winter by @softfonds (82k)

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

📖 Ace of Spades by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Living as a sheltered omega in a farming village has not prepared Harry for life aboard the most notorious pirate ship to sail the Atlantic. Or Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

📖 Bikestrike by @thinlinez (68k)

What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise.

📖 There You Are by @tiredtiredtzofiya (55k)

Prince Harold, youngest pup of the House of Lancaster, has a secret. Louis, a healer at the king’s court with a keen knowledge of plants and herbs, simply wishes to know the shy young prince better. When Harry, the heir loved by everybody yet needed by no one, takes ill after several arduous heats, lonely Louis is the one entrusted to care for him, and the resultant bond that forms between the two tests the limits of in sickness and in health.

📖 Angel Baby by @brightgolden (51k)

When Louis’ sugar-baby-turned-mate suddenly wanted a pup, he simply couldn’t say no to his bright-eyed omega. After all, who didn’t want a mini Harry running around the house? He should have known that it wasn’t all wonderful in the wonderland of baby making.

📖 Some Records Turnin’ by @ireallysawanangel (49k)

Harry is a soft alpha who owns a record store and Louis is a closeted singer omega masquerading as an alpha who randomly stumbles into Harry’s store.

📖 does it always end in heartbreak? by @onlythebravest (47k)

Life never plays out the way one wants it to and no one ever goes through it unharmed. A story of two relationships, two life stages and more than only two broken hearts.

📖 put a little love on me by @larrydoinglaundry (29k)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

📖 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense (26k)

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

📖 Not Safe For Work by @greenblueish (23k)

the one where the boys work at Niall's fashion start-up 28 Programme Designs, and omega Louis has a lot of not safe for work thoughts about his colleague Harry, but little does he know that the alpha can read minds.

📖 Incandescent Love by @marchessa (21k)

the one where Alpha Louis is a world famous musician, who could get anyone he wanted, but instead he fell for a proper omega of high society. Too bad Harry shows no sign of wanting to settle down and start a family with him yet. The omega seems to be perfectly happy with their friends-with-benefits relationship. Louis is pining hard, and he might be running out of time when Harry’s father decides to start meddling with his only son’s future.

📖 Your Eyes Outshine the Town by @insightfulinsomniac (19k)

When a freak French snowstorm traps Harry's family in Paris, he's suddenly left flying home for a Christmas spent alone. However, everything changes after a chance encounter with an undeniably attractive, generous alpha who suggests that Harry join his family's Christmas celebrations. Against his better judgment, Harry agrees, and follows Louis back to Doncaster for the holidays. Little does he know, he'll not only become attached to the alpha, but to his entire family. Maybe his Christmas won't be as lonely as he expected. Complete and utter fluff ensues. Sappy Christmas tropes abound.

📖 Swap me for your shadow by @lunarheslwt (16k)

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

📖 The Room Thief by @2tiedships2 (12k)

When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

📖 No (Birth) Control by @haztobegood (2k)

An unfortunate situation left Harry without contraceptives a day before his heat.

📖 Untraditional Rut by @dreamersdivin-headfirst (2k)

Ever since then, he figured out why he’s never enjoyed his traditional ruts. Because he’s not into the whole primal animalistic stereotype of alpha ruts. He’s into spanking and wax play.

📖 we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 (2k)

Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

📖 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee (1k)

The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.

#masterpost #abo fics #hljournal #hlcreators #1dsource

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slyratex · 7 months

Text

Sucked dry

It was a complex spell. But when you saw me in the hotel I spent my vacation in your home town in, you instantly knew I was the right person to try it on. I had many of the attributes you were looking for to test your skills. A young student, an intellectual, an artist. Shy and benign. Slim, androgynous, smooth, naive and unseasoned. So you offered me a drink to lower my defense. Started small talking, nodding and agreeing with everything I said to make me incautious. You complimented on the four traits of mine you admired the most: My rather androgynous appearance, my intelligence, my gentle character and my youthful spirit. I didn’t even get suspicious that you might be after exactly these treasures of mine. And when I was intoxicated and my emotions were putty in your hands, you offered to bring me back to my hotel room.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you pushed me inside, threw it shut and me onto my bed. I stood no chance, dizzy and clumsy as I was, and in mere seconds you positioned me lying in front of you, legs spread open, ass up in the air, offered to you like an open door. You slid kneeled on my bed and slid your shaft inside me, filling my tight hole as far as it went.

Then you started humping me while wanking my cute dick off. I couldn‘t resist, not in actions and not even in words. Your spell had already begun to show its effects on me. You leaned down over me and gave me a forceful kiss, sucking on my mouth and tongue mercilessly to extract the attributes from your victim that you had been looking for.

First you sucked the feminine beauty out of me. As your skin became smoother and your main hair longer and thicker, you saw my hair thin out and my face being manned up by short stubbles. My face became sharper and more defined whereas yours softened. I lost the memories of being a girlish boy and suddenly remembered being a typical rascal in my youth, a misbehaved boy known for showing typical behaviour for boys.

You also sucked my innocence from me, turning me into a smoker from my early adolescence, and making me less naive and more keen. The boy you saw first slowly disappeared as his defining attributes went over to you, substituting him with the guy below.

But you weren‘t finished yet. You sucked harder and the more you sucked, the more of my intellect you drained out of me. While your IQ rose by at least 60 points, making you a real master mind, mine fell by the same degree, leaving me with a brain so degraded it could barely handle simple math operations. You turned an all A student into a moron, a dim-witted idiot with sleepy eyes, not thinking about any complex or abstract ideas. As my memories were altered further, removing my great high school career and adding memories of bunking off school to meet with my friends in the woods experimenting with alcohol and cigars, my body transformed further, my beard growing, my style in clothes changing. Every thrust of your lower body against my ass banged away another piece of the puzzle that made up my once complex personality.

There still was a way to go. You had to change my whole personality, as you wanted to have everything I had. The character so many liked me for would certainly be a nice addition to your curriculum. You stripped me of my gentleness, my generosity, my shy and reluctant behaviour, all the things which people found cute about me. As my lungs and my heart turned more black and my education was erased, I started to think of the many fights I had when I was a young adult. How many nights I had to spent in jail. My hair receded further and became thinner, leaving me almost bald, but my beard grew thick and long and gave me a fierce look. Nothing was left of my trustworthy face. Tattoos appeared on my skin, making my appearance fit my character. In this new person there was no room for creativity, for philosophy, for an interest in art and literature. All this became totally irrelevant to me, while you took my talents in these areas from me and added them to your own perks. You knew people would love you for your charisma from now on, while I had become a guy causing those who I held close before our encounter to change the side of the street to avoid him.

One last step to make your spell complete. You still had one of my traits to steal. So you sucked and sucked, humping me more violently and speeding up your hand movements to jerk me off. I spasmed and cramped as my body underwent the hardest change of this transformation. Dizzily looking up to you and down on me I saw the traces of age the years had left on your body disappear. You became younger. How many years, I can‘t say. As many as separated you from the age of a college student. You felt your health improve, you became more athletic and more beautiful.

Meanwhile I experienced the opposite. You drained all of my youth from me you needed to reach the age I had before, but I grew older and older. My face was marked by wrinkles, my beard grew thicker, longer and greyer. More smoke filled my lungs and my belly inflated until it fitted a middle-aged man who obviously had enjoyed his life. My personality, already stripped of my high intellect and my well-educated character, now completed the U turn as most of my conditioning changed, everything I grew up with in the late 90s and early 2000s was deleted and the millennial in me basically died. He made place for an early Gen X man or even a late boomer. And this changed everything for me. I suddenly remembered many years that had never been there before. I had grown up with far more conservative values, I had a wild youth and then settled for a more traditional life. I had spent decades working a blue collar job.

And as I realised what was happening, a gigantic orgasm built up inside me. I tried to stop it as I wanted to resist the transformation that had already happened, but it was too late. I started grunting with a deep, manly voice, rough from all the decades of smoking and drinking. Meanwhile the twink boy humping me let out a high and girlish scream. You released the last shots of spunk that were produced by your old self into my ass to give the last of the properties that you wanted to leave behind to me.

Simultaneously, I ejaculated the last remains of who I was into your hands. I cursed in my mind, but with the first shot, my anger over the transformation disappeared. The second shot I released released me from any other negative feelings about this, leaving me with a neutral attitude towards your deed. The third shot came and I started to like it. A fourth shot of cum turned that into joy and acceptance, as I realised it wasn‘t so bad after all. The orgasm continued with a fifth shot that awoke a certain gratitude to you. With the sixth shot the new personality and the evaluation of it as not only something acceptable, but even something preferable to what was before was completely embedded in my mind. And then the last, the seventh shot of spunk left me and with it went every last rest of who I was, including the memory of this evening. As the orgasm ebbed away, I didn‘t even know anymore I was transformed, as your spell was complete.

I lied on the hotel bed exhausted, looking down on my body. I was fat, old, bearded, hairy, scruffy, rough, bearish, tattooed, greying, wrinkled, a full man. Well, the man I always was. Lighting up a smoke I looked at the twink kneeling in front of me. You pulled your dick out of my ass while licking up the jizz from your fragile hands. What a filthy millennial bitch you are! You gave me a horny grin and stood up. You put the money into your bag. Now that I tried the passive role for the first time, I knew it wasn‘t for me. „How about we do it the other way around and I show you how it actually works?“, I mocked you. „Sorry, but you didn‘t pay for that,“ you replied and gave me a wink, „I know you crave a beautiful young lad like me. But this was a one time thing and I think it is time you start looking for guys in your league again, gramps.“ Before I could complain, you left my hotel room. I stroked my hairy belly, and as soon as the door fell shut behind you, I started wanking my thick, manly cock again, fantasising about fucking the enviable young twink I will probably never meet again. I wonder what his life is like…

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kaciidubs · 8 months

Text

Lucky Charm

❣ For my sweet love @sweetracha - thank you for indulging me in this AU, I hope you like it! ❣

❣ Summary: Racer! AU - Its the first race of the season, and what's a better way to start it off without a little visit from Jisung's lucky charm? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 1.1k ❣ Warnings: Racecar Driver! Jisung, Racer Crew! OT8, Jisung's a bit cocky but in a lovable way, established relationship, hinted smut, fluff, humor, kissing, Seungmin is a menace to Changbin, Jeongin is a menace to Minho, Jisung is a menace to Reader ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Han, and Mr. Flirt, sort of slice of life style but I love it ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Seungmin, stop hiding my tools!”

“I’ll stop hiding them when you stop calling me a dog!”

You watched as Changbin wrangled the younger into a chokehold - putting no power behind it, of course - and continued spewing on about how he’ll continue being a dog if he keeps hiding his stuff.

“They’re still at it?”

Breaking you from the ever so entertaining view, you turned your head to see Chris walking over to you, black headset donned around his neck in preparation for the race.

“Mhm - you know, for the pit leader and star of the crew, they really can’t get past this fake sibling rivalry.”

“It keeps them entertained and out of my hair, as long as they don’t kill each other then so be it.”

Nodding in agreement, you snuck a peek at the pair once again; Seungmin now, miraculously, out of the hold and taunting Changbin over something entirely new.

It was race day, the first race of the season and the starting line for the journey to the silver cup, so it was understandable why they seemed to have more energy than before - honestly, you were surprised they weren’t chasing each other around by this point.

“Where’s the rest of the gang?” You mused, noting the lack of a few familiar faces amongst the pit crew that filled the assigned stadium garage.

Chris leaned against the table you were sitting on, crossing his arms over his t-shirt clad chest, “Well, Minho’s doing a pre recorded interview - he brought Jeongin along to ‘show him how it's done’, Hyunjin is out getting some pictures of the stadium, Felix is getting the final lineup of the race, and I’m sure you know where Jisung is.”

Ah, right - the man of the hour and the reason why you’re all gathered today - Han Jisung, the person taking up this season’s race in the SKZ name. This was far from his first race, or course, but it still held importance; this was his shot at a third consecutive win following his overly successful season last year, taking over for Minho as he took on the responsibility of training Jeongin with Chris, and you were here to hopefully witness his first win of the circuit.

Picking aimlessly at the fabric of your skirt, you regarded the eldest with a soft look, “You think he’s nervous?”

“Yeah.” He unfolded his arms, resting his hands on the edge of the table, “But you know how he is, nerves are only fuel to him - keeps telling me how he knows what he’s doing and that he’s bringing back another trophy for the garage.”

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head in amusement - cocky as ever.

The sound of the door squeaking open drew your attention, easily recognizing the faces coming through the door.

“You can ignore me all you want - that interviewer was so into you!” Jeongin beamed, following closely behind a nonplussed Minho.

“Chan, get this child away from me, now.”

“Seriously! How could you not see it?! She was a hundred perfect fucking you with her eyes-”

“Chan!”

“Shit- okay! Innie, you keep testing him and he might actually kill you this time.” Chris launched himself from his position on the table, leaving you to watch as he dragged the youngest driver away from the veteran - but not without attracting the attention of the two lead pit crew members eager for the tea.

In the midst of the action, the door opened once again - Jisung walked through wearing his racing jumpsuit decorated in various sponsorship patches he’d earned throughout the years. He went to jump into the ruckus until he spotted you on the table, laughing at whatever threat Minho famously came up with this time, his heart fluttering and feet leading him straight to your side.

“You must really love me if you’re willing to deal with these guys,” he hummed nonchalantly, not missing the way you jumped at his sudden presence, head whipping toward him in surprise.

Rolling your eyes, a soft smile quickly replaced your shock, “You must really love me if you’re willing to let me deal with these guys.” You watched as he saddled himself in front of you, caging you in against the table with a sideways smirk.

“Of course I love you,” pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, a bright smile blossomed on his lips, “you should’ve told me you were here already, I would’ve gotten ready faster!”

“Today’s an important day, you really think I’m gonna rush you just to see me?” Your fingers danced their way up the fabric of his jumpsuit, tracing along the various seams and straps before finding home on his shoulders.

“I’m always in a rush to see you, why do you think I always finish in first?”

You scoffed out a laugh, eyes glittering with mirth, “Okay, Mr. Flirt, let’s get our heads in the game here.”

“Han! We’ve gotta start getting ready soon!”

A wave of anxious excitement washed over you at Chris’ time call, and you could see the spark of determination flash behind Jisung’s eyes - this was it.

“One last kiss from my lucky charm?” Jisung hummed softly, his hands sliding to cradle the outside of your thighs, fingers fiddling with your skirt.

Nodding curtly, you took his face in your hands, gently turning his head to the right, “Be smart-” you murmured before kissing his cheek and turning his head to the left, “be safe-” planting another kiss, you turned him one final time to face you, “be fast-” pecking his lips, you leveled him with a soft stare, “and come back to me.”

“Always.” He promised, as always, finishing the ritual with a solid kiss to your lips in return, pulling back with a cocky grin, “I’ll make sure to come back for my second checkered flag, too.”

Your eyebrows furrowed for a second before your gaze dropped to where he was currently squeezing your thighs and- of course, in addition to wearing a custom shirt with his racing number and name, you’d opted for a black and white checker patterned skirt to tie the look together.

A new rush of heat ran through you as you mushed his face with your hands, embarrassed giggles escaping you all the while, “Han Jisung get away from me!”

You could feel him kiss the palm of your hand with a triumphant laugh, taking your wrist to move your hand, “You know you love me!”

“Yeah, I love you, now go!”

Successfully shooing him away, you watched as he went to huddle with the rest of his team - now noticing the arrival of Felix amongst the group, and Hyunjin with his camera in hand, snapping pictures of the first huddle of the season.

You knew he’d give it his all, he always did, but a little intentionally unintentional enticement never hurt anyone - you were his lucky charm after all, and if that helped him have another reason to bring back the gold then who were you to stop it?

#skz fic #stray kids fic #Han Jisung x reader #Jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #Racer! AU #Racer! AU SKZ #Racer! Jisung #Racer! Han

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bigassmoonchild · 7 months

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i absolutely adore maple syrup to the point my partner lovingly / jokily deemed it unhealthy { can i be added to the tag list}

your writing style is amazing btw

as a request im curious to how simon would handle someone he likes who has a humor as dark as him { we all know hes a cocky b@stard with a dark humor and dad jokes}

"a man walks into a magic forest and tries to cut down a talking tree," you said. simon could feel his brows furrow, listening to you.

"is that so?" soap responded, and from where simon was set up to snipe he could see the smirk growing on his face. it was weird having someone else who would try and crack jokes over the comms.

"'you can't cut me down!' the tree complains. 'i'm a talking tree!'" soap snorted sharply into the comms and price made a little complaint about all the noise. "the man responds, you may be a talking tree, but you will dialogue," simon snorted sharply, not expecting that. of all things you could do, make dark little dad jokes was the one thing you did?

soap called out a few people walking alone and simon shot them down. "i just got my doctors test results and i'm really upset," simon retorted. you hummed into the comms and he could hear a few silenced gunshots come from your mic. "turns out, i'm not gonna be a doctor," he heard your snort followed by a few coughs.

"y'choking?" soap asked, somehow sounding genuinely worried even through his hand to hand combat. he heard a few louder shouts from your end, another couple of gunshots coming through.

"the lieutenant has jokes, now?" you asked. you were a newcomer, having joined recently to help out on stealth focused missions. this was the first one you had joined, and thus far it was going pretty well for a 141 mission.

he knew you looked good, he knew you were a sweetheart but now you had your own kind of personality coming out. he already was starting to like you more and more by the minute.

as you boarded the flight to return, all of the information you needed (and a few people needed to help 'inform' you on it) was on the flight. as you sat down, soap had sat beside you.

he leaned in close and whispered something and you snorted.

"you know if you give a man a match, he'll be warm for a few hours" you looked him dead in the eye. "set a man on fire and he'll be warm for the rest of his life," simon had to look away to keep from busting out laughing. if there was anything in this world simon appreciated, it was a good shit joke.

"the sergeant has jokes now?" he called out from across the way and you smirked, shooting him a little wink. simon could feel, ever so weirdly, his insides becoming just a little warm.

maybe he'd need to drown the butterflies, but for now? he'd accept what they were, and who they were caused by. pretty little, shit joke making you.

(p.s. it's a little shorter, but i really like how this came about. you are added to the taglist, btw!)

#simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley #call of duty #no use of y/n #call of duty x reader #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #task force 141 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #mw2 #fluff #shitty jokes #kind of crack fic?

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lily-fics-11 · 2 months

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The Girl Next Door: Chapter 3 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 3

You attend your first fight club meeting and it causes things to go awry with Hazel.

CW: Canon level violence and gore. Sexual innuendos. Profanities. Angst that turns to fluff.

You are on the edge of your seat, overwhelmed by anticipation all day. You have a few classes with Hazel, but you don’t get many opportunities to talk to her. You are painfully reminded of the way you two had avoided each other all these years when you found yourself sitting far away from her in every classroom.

You share your plan to give the fight club a chance with Isabel and Brittany at lunch. The two cheerleaders share stories about the fights they’ve been in over the past few days with a reassuring enthusiasm. They tell you that they were thinking about dragging you along after they had officially tested the waters. They weren’t sure if fight club was your style of chaos or not, but they are excited for you to join. Though you can't help but notice that they are not quite as excited as Hazel. Your friends were surprised that you knew Hazel at all, which makes sense.

Regardless of being too humble to say it out loud, you are seated atop the throne of the Rockbridge Sapphic Hierarchy. There were queer girls scattered throughout the spectrum based on physical appeal and societal contribution. PJ and Josie are on the complete opposite end of the spectrum from you, scraping the bottom of the barrel. Saying that Hazel was somewhere in the middle would be generous, though she by no means falls under the ugly and untalented category like the other founding members of the fight club. Her adorable face and easy going nature score her a lot of points, at least in your book. You do however understand that not everyone sees Hazel the way that you do. You tell Isabel and Brittany how you and this girl, that is so different from you, are neighbors, neglecting to mention the entirety of the situation.

For the rest of the day you try to prepare yourself for a fight and spending time with Hazel. You are unsure which is the most daunting. After the last bell you take a deep breath before entering the gym. You immediately spot Hazel across the room in the midst of a deep conversation with Josie and PJ. She is still wearing your sweatshirt. You decide to put your stuff down and not interrupt. You barely have time to say hi to Brittany and Isabel before PJ gets everyone’s attention by yelling “alright bitches circle up!” You move quickly so that you can stand next to Hazel before someone else can. You can see her excitement when she tells you “you don’t even know how happy I am to have you here. I’m glad that we are spending time together again.” Your heart is racing from Hazel’s words even more than the anticipated violence. “Alright skanks, let's get started!” PJ screams and steps into the center of the circle. “I’ll go first,” she announces. She paces around the circle a few times before stopping in front of you.

“Who am I to pass up the opportunity to draw fresh blood?” She asks, looking around at the rest of the group. An anxious lump forms in your throat. Hazel steps in front of you. “I told you she was with me” she practically growls at PJ, who doesn’t even acknowledge Hazel except for a push out of the way so she can get closer to you. The alleged delinquent looks you up and down hungrily. It’s like she can’t decide if she wants to kiss you or inflict pain.

“I’m sure she can handle herself, isn’t that right sweetheart?” PJ coos. Hazel tries to protest while you are focused on PJ. “Little miss juvie doesn’t scare me. I can take her,” you declare confidently.

Have you ever called yourself chaotic? No. Have you ever denied allegations of being chaotic? Also no. Do you shy away from chaos? Absolutely not. While Hazel is a true chaotic good you are more of a chaotic neutral. Your ambitions come first and your morality comes second.

You learned the hard way that you could not in fact ‘take’ ‘little miss juvie’. But you weren’t going down without a fight. The experience was exhilarating despite your struggle to hold your own. You make the first move, a simple shove.

“Is that the best you can do?” PJ taunts, disregarding your inexperience, before delivering a punch to your gut in retaliation. You start to double over in pain and PJ’s other fist meets your jaw in an uppercut. You stumble backwards and PJ takes advantage of that, kicking you in the face. You feel the pain seer across your mouth and cheek. “What a shame,” PJ continues taunting, “to defile such a pretty face.” As PJ regains her footing she looks at Hazel and asks “isn’t that right?” Murmured reactions buzz around you. You take PJ’s temporary distraction as an opportunity to dive towards her legs and knock her off her feet. Her head slams against the ground. Before she can take back the upper hand you clamber over her and grab her wrists. PJ has a smug look on her face as you pin her arms to the ground. You glare down at her and say, “I don’t go down so easy. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You thought you were hot shit for about 10 seconds before PJ admits, “normally I would let a girl as hot as you do whatever she wants to me,” and knees you in the chest before declaring “but not this time.” You crumble to the ground beside her. PJ pulls you up off the ground, onto your knees, by your hair as she rises to her feet. She’s clearly trying to get inside your head as she continues to mock you. “You have overestimated yourself princess.” She circles you like a predator hunting its prey. As you attempt to get up she takes you out at the knees in one swift movement. She approaches and hovers over you. You are expecting a final blow but instead PJ leans in really close like she’s about to kiss you. You lean as far away from her as you can. Nevertheless she continues to get closer. When her lips are about a centimeter away from yours she grabs you by the hand and pulls you to your feet. Everyone applauds, signaling the end of the fight.

“I have to admit babe, I’m pretty impressed. I never thought someone so dignified could also be so scrappy” PJ confesses with a sly smile. “Really?” You scoff, not letting her get inside of your head.

“Yes. But you’ve got a lot to learn. A pretty girl like you, I’m more than willing to teach you everything I know.” She offers with a wink. You roll your eyes at her. This wasn’t the first time PJ has flirted with you and could only assume that it wouldn’t be the last. Brittany is clearly the girl she has her sight set on but she treats you like a backup plan for when she is inevitably rejected by the very straight, out of her league, cheerleader. Not that you weren’t out of your league. The fact that you were also a lesbian caused her to be bolder than she usually is with others. However, this felt personal and you can’t tell if she wants you or wants to be you. You leave the center of the circle and PJ trades places with Josie, who looks around trying to figure out who she’s going to challenge.

You take back your spot next to Hazel. She subtly inches towards you. She puts her hand on your shoulder and her lips get close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ok?” She whispers. You give her a nod and she searches your face for something, though you aren’t sure what it is. As she steps away from you she doesn't go far, staying much closer to you than she was originally. Her hand slides down your arm, finding itself in yours. Her hold on you lingers for a moment before she fully lets you go, as if she’s afraid of what might happen when she does.

There are a lot of fights including a variety of match ups. None of PJ’s other fights get taken to the level that yours did, although she enjoyed getting pinned down by Brittany a little too much. You are very thankful that you only participated in one fight because you are aching all over. Everyone else seems to be handling the pain a lot better than you are. It must be something you get used to. Feeling a little dazed, the longer the meeting goes on, the harder it is to stay on your feet. Once the meeting has concluded the circle disbands and you collect your things. Hazel had taken off your sweatshirt before the meeting to avoid getting any blood on it. She puts it back on and timidly approaches you. “Want to walk out with me?”You just nod your head because your mouth and jaw hurt so much. Your silence seems to make Hazel even more nervous.

As you push through the doors to exit the gym she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and asks, “so, what did you think?”

You just laugh. “I think I got my shit rocked.”

“I know, I know. But you knew what you were signing yourself up for. You saw me after yesterday's meeting. I will admit that you were at a disadvantage. What I meant was how did it make you feel?” She starts to fidget with her rings, drawing attention to her hands, making you lose your train of thought. Hazel looks at you expectantly and you try to regain your composure as fast as you can.

“I’m not sure why, but I think it felt… good? I was able to let go of my inhibitions. I felt the pain instead of my feelings.” Hazel playfully punches you in the arm, which is fortunately one of the few places on your body that doesn’t hurt. “Why do you sound so surprised?” She teases “I promised you. Pinky promised. You know that’s practically a blood oath to me.”

“There was definitely blood,” you begin, then mumble “but your promises don’t hold the weight that they used to.” You weren’t sure if you wanted her to hear that or not so you left it up to fate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hazel questions. She’s not angry, just hurt. Her eyes grow wide with panic.

“You know exactly what that means,” you snap at her. The fire of all your hurt and resentment burns through the feelings of longing and nostalgia. In rare form, Hazel is at a loss for words. She starts to break out in a sweat.

“You know what, I am feeling pretty good and I’m not ready to let go of that yet. We are not going to do this right now.” You continue on, leaving her behind. You no longer hear Hazel’s footsteps on the linoleum floors. She’s stopped dead in her tracks. “Please,” she calls after you, her voice strained.

“Hazel, I told you I’m not doing this right now.” You hear her approaching so you stop and turn around “You’ve been acting like nothing ever happened. Did you think I was just going to forget? Or did you forget because you weren’t the one that got left behind?”

Tears begin to well up in Hazel’s eyes. Her voice cracks as she tries to plead with you, “please, just hear me out, I promise I can explain…” You cut her begging off. “It’s not worth wasting your breath, Hazel. I promise.”

You turn your back on her as tears start to fall from your own eyes. You’re stomping away at first but you can’t get away from her fast enough as your heart breaks all over again. You start to run. It triggers an escalation in your physical pain, but that doesn’t stop you. You are too far into your own head to notice whether or not she is following you.

When you get to your car you throw your bag into the passenger seat and slam the door behind you. You don’t even bother to put on any music. You peel out of the parking lot and drive well above the speed limit while the effects of your injuries continue getting worse. You know that you probably shouldn’t drive like this, but you needed to get the fuck out of there. Once you are parked in your driveway suffering washes over you. Your head falls to the steering wheel and you begin to sob. You had never let yourself cry over Hazel before. Years worth of pain pours out of you, an agony far worse than any physical damage could ever cause. If she had punched you in the face it would at least only have left a temporary mark. There is nothing you can do but let the heartache eat you alive. You have tried to ignore it, but you are in love with Hazel. You wonder if she has any love for at all. If she did, why would she do this to you?

You have no idea how much time has passed when you hear a car pull up next to yours. You turn and see Hazel's car in her driveway. “Fuck!” You scream, balling your fists and pounding on the steering wheel. You sling your bag over your shoulder and make a break for it. You only manage a few steps before your fight catches up to you and you go down. Hard. You hear Hazel coming towards you repeating “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” until she is knelt down at your side. You turn away so that you don’t have to look at her and she can't see your puffy red face.

“I know that you don’t want anything to do with me, but you need to let me help you.” You can’t stand the effect that she has on you as you weigh your options for a moment. You ultimately end up nodding your head in agreement. You are not sure you could even make it into your house on your own because your head is spinning from the pain and tears. You take a deep breath and turn your head towards her. Hazel’s hands gently move to your face, wiping away your tears and telling you that it’s her turn to take care of you. She puts your bag over her shoulder and wraps her other arm around your waist to help you up. Hazel brings you inside, and helps you get comfortable on the couch.

“First aid kit?”

“Bathroom. Ice packs are in the freezer.”

It’s been a while but Hazel knows her way around. She rushes around your house and quickly returns with everything she needs. She warns you that she is going to have to get close to you before she kneels down in front of you, settling between your legs. She passes you the ice packs and you put them where you are feeling the most pain.

“Do you have a hair tie?” She asks. You nod and hold out your wrist. Hazel takes the hair tie and tells you to turn your head. You oblige and she gently pulls your hair away from your face and into a ponytail. You hold your breath the whole time.

You wince in pain as Hazel attends to your split lip and cheek laceration. That doesn’t stop the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when she touches your face. Your heart nearly stops when her fingers brush over your lips. Once she finishes cleaning you up she sits back on her knees and assures you that you won’t need stitches. You’ve had enough time to calm down so you tell her “you can talk.”

“Are you sure?” Hazel is very hesitant and a little afraid.

“I’m listening.”

“I want to start off by telling you how sorry I am, and that I only did what I did because I thought that’s what was best for you. I never wanted to hurt you and I thought that letting you go would cause less harm than holding on. I was going through so much and I didn’t want to drag you into it. There were things I couldn’t talk to you about. Couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I had all these feelings… they were so strong… and I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t think that you would understand and it felt like I was going to lose you one way or another. So I bit the bullet instead of stringing you along. By the time I came to terms with things it was too late. You had already moved on. You had new friends and popularity. I know now that I was wrong. I was young and stupid and in-“ she pauses for a brief moment and mumbles “in deep.”

She returns to her previous tone and assures you that “no one has ever been as important to me as you are. You never stopped being important to me. I haven’t gotten close to anyone else because no one could ever replace you. I’ve spent every day since I let you go regretting my decisions but I was also too scared to do anything about it. I hate myself for screwing up my one opportunity to have you back in my life. I’m not asking you to forgive me. All I ask is that you believe me when I tell you that I never meant for any of this to happen and I’m really, truly, sorry.” Hazel is the one crying now. She anxiously waits to hear what you have to say, clearly in distress. You take a moment to collect your thoughts. Your brain is in fight or flight mode, telling you to lash out, but your heart is telling you that it’s time to forgive and forget. So you turn to your intuition.

“I’m not going to forget what happened, but I do believe you. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t missed you” All these years the ‘why’ had cost you countless hours of sleep. You finally have an answer and it gives you a sense of peace. You trust Hazel. Not just because of her history of honesty, but because you know that she is a terrible liar. You needed to get your feelings out, though you should have known you could never stay angry at her. You are hopelessly in love with Hazel Callahan, the girl next door. The tears stop falling from Hazel’s blue eyes and they are filled with a new sense of hope. You reach out to wipe the tears off of her face and she smiles. She throws her arms around you and holds you tight. “I’m never going to do anything like that to you ever again,” she whispers in your ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” You pull away, arms still around her, your faces mere inches apart. A smirk creeps onto your face. “Anything?”

“Yes. Literally anything. Whatever you need and whatever you want. Now that I have you back I’m never letting go again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

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nyxvuxoa-writes · 9 months

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𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜 -- 𝙰𝚄

William Rollins x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: AU, Dark Fic, Smut, Plot Bunny — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: darkfic, alternative universe, sexualization of a bad guy, toxic relationship, mentions of stalking behavior, manipulation, mentions of being institutionalized, mental health talk, keeping secrets, possessive!William, use of petname: kitten, exploring kink with William, body marking, knife kink, pain play, Dacryphilia (turned on by crying), katoptronophilia (sexual acts in front of mirrors), sexually recording the reader. Proceed with caution in case I missed something.

◢ A/N: This is an AU headcanon style fic list where William didn't die, but instead had been institutionalized for his behavior, and later released. It's based off William and his personality, though in a non-canon setting. Keep in mind, William is a psychopath, so don't always expect fluffy stuff with him. If you want a more direct x fem!reader insert with him based off this concept, let me know. Gif credit goes to myself.

◢ I do not consent to my work being post anywhere else.

The first time you had talked to William, it had been in a chat room.

Old habits die hard, and the internet has progressed so much.

You wanted to vent to a stranger about life and he was willing to listen.

He's charismatic, knowing exactly what to say to make you feel like you are on top of the world.

It was his way of learning you. He wanted to know what made you tick.

You found yourself confiding in him, telling him your secrets, fears, and insecurities.

Naturally, he knew how to use these things to his advantage.

To make sure you trusted him back, he started to confide in you.

But not the whole truth.

He's only told you bits and pieces of things.

Like that his mental health had declined as a teenager.

That he ended up institutionalized because of it.

It was just enough to make you feel sorry for him.

But not so much so that it would scare you away from him.

And it was likely a little warped in perspective.

That doesn't matter to him, so long as he has you at this point.

As far as you know, he's okay now and you are the reason he keeps going.

And that might not be a whole lie, he's actually become rather attached to you.

Maybe more so than you realize.

Dangerously so.

You might even have some darker things in common.

Which, if you do, he's going to find out one way or another.

After establishing yourselves, you finally agree to meet.

When you first met William, he had come off as perfect.

He flashed you that charming smile and batted the lashes on those pretty blue eyes which naturally caused you to bring your guard down.

He makes you feel safe, wanted, desired.

He's forward, but not overly so.

It's his way of testing the waters a little more.

But when you let him, he gives you these soft and sweet kisses.

The kind where his lips hover over yours after, and he simply smiles against them before he kisses you again.

You are his now.

He has his claws in you, and has no intention of letting go.

But being away from you doesn't exactly sit well with him.

He starts to keep an eye on your social media. He watches where you post from or what you are posting.

He checks on who you are talking to and who interacts with your page.

If he feels that someone is getting a little too close to what is his, William won't hesitate to make his presence known.

He'll leave little comments here or there to show you that he's paying attention.

At first, it's not going to come off overly possessive, but as time goes on it will start to become more clear in his wording that 'what's his, is his.'

Depending on the type of girl you are, this is either good or bad.

It will either turn you on, or it won't.

Let's assume that it does.

You like feeling that sense of being desired so badly.

In a way, he makes you crave it.

Even through a screen, this man a way of making you feel different things and deep emotions.

But with that being said, he has a way of convincing you of things.

Be it, he's trying to get you to change your opinion about something or someone.

Or he's trying to convince you to do something.

It doesn't take too much at times, and he's able to have you doing things that you don't quite realize is bad right off the bat.

You are blinded by love to really notice the bigger picture.

But even than, you might not care.

You might accept him for how he is.

And depending on the type of friends or family you might have, they could see right through him.

There will be people that will try and warn you about him, but that doesn't mean you will listen.

And if he keeps having it his way, he'd prefer it if you didn't listen to them.

"They are full of shit, Kitten. I'm always doing what's best for you. What's best for us."

Eventually you find yourself defending him at times.

His own little shield that he will head-pat and tell you that you're a good girl.

Eventually things will start to sexually escalate.

It had been a mutual starting on both parts, with some light flirting texts that headed into a round of sexting.

Which had left both of you craving more and it starts to become an almost daily thing until you see each other again.

You can rest assured that the first moment you got the chance, clothes were stripped off and William was pressing himself roughly into you.

He learns what gets you wet. Be it fast or slow, a little bit of both.

He'll get a little dirty in his language if he knows it's going to make you tighter around him.

And he's a moaner.

Soft at first, but the more he presses and the closer he gets, the louder he can get.

"Fuck! Kitten you feel so good."

"Keep going Kitten, you're gonna make me cum."

"That's my girl."

If you're the kinky type, William is willing to explore.

He may have a particular fondness for more edgeplay related kinks.

He would also enjoy marking your body.

Hicky marks in various spots.

Maybe he'd drag a knife against your skin from time to time. Leaving little cuts here and there.

The more things continue the more he develops an enjoyment of pain play.

Be it spankings or simply manhandling you, William knows that you belong to him and he will use you as he pleases.

If he can make you cry during this, he gets even more turned on.

There is something about seeing you in that moment of being particularly vulnerable that he enjoys.

There is added bonus if you happen to have a full body mirror around.

He likes to watch himself with you, and he particularly enjoys watching you.

This will eventually progress into him wanting to record you.

Even if he isn't involved in what you are doing.

He'll get you to play with yourself and it won't be long before his phone is out and pointed right at you.

He'll take pictures of you while you're naked. He'll even take pictures of you when you aren't even aware of it.

The stalking, no matter how long you are together, it won't stop. Which means, some of those photos are of you through out the day, or on your video calls with him.

He actually starts to enjoy the type of control that he has over you.

It's a different type of control than what he's used to having over people. But it's satisfying in it's own way.

This doesn't mean he stops manipulating you, or others at that. He wouldn't be William if he didn't try and manipulate you, or those around you.

----------------------------------------------

May consider doing a part two and expand on this more. I'm not sure yet. Tagging: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18 @bettytaylorversion @liveandbreathesmut

#william rollins #william rollins x reader #william rollins x fem!reader #william rollins smut #william rollins angst #william rollins x you #tangerine x you #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #nyxvuxoa writes

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 months

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The Arcana HCs: Asra and Faust's Birthday

~ it's June 13, so here's how MC might celebrate Asra and Faust's birthday with them. Enjoy! - brainrot ~

You let them sleep in until they're ready to get up

You, on the other hand, sneak out early to collect supplies. For what, some might ask? Well, he's not the only one good at keeping secrets ~

Faust is happy to accompany you while her master snoozes, especially as you promised her unlimited chin scritches and she is determined to get as much out of that as she can

You want them to enjoy a slow morning, so you leave any plans for the afternoon and work on breakfast while the golden morning sun lights up the kitchen

Faust keeps watch so you can focus, and you know Asra's opening his eyes when you hear her excited little voice shouting Awake! Awake! into your mind

This is your cue to climb back in bed to snuggle with them. Breakfast can wait ...

When he is ready to get up, you'll be able to bring him breakfast. One of your errands involved swinging by Selasi's stall, and the lovely baker has given you samples of all his test recipes because he knows how much Asra adores new and unusual things

Selasi also helped you fashion a mini paper party hat for Faust

Now the three of you are piled on the overstuffed, rumpled bed, eating and giggling and watching Faust pose with her hat

You also have to keep coming up with excuses for why Asra isn't allowed to look around certain parts of the shop - pieces of your surprise are stashed in several different corners

"MC -" they're giggling at the edge of the bed, only pretending to struggle against where you have your hands pressed over their eyes to keep them from getting up or peeking. "Tell me what it is!"

Never tell! Faust is wriggling along his shoulders in her own intimidation game, trying her best not to be dislodged by Asra's happy laughter. Friend surprise!

"A surprise, hm?" They get suspiciously still. "How about this?" And the cushion they swing at you is the start of a pillow fight that turns the whole bedroom into a mess

You're trying to figure out how to keep things hidden while cleaning up at the same time when you hear a knock at the door

Right on cue, Aisha and Salim are standing in your shop with beaming smiles on their faces. You bundle Asra out the door to spend lunch with them and spend the next hour or so tidying and closing up

The next stage of your surprise begins when Muriel arrives at your doorstep to help you carry several things up to the palace. Most of what you bring gets whisked away to the gardens under Nadia's watchful eye, and Portia takes the last few bundles with a wink

You stick around for a few hours, helping to set up the majority of the more magical items and finalizing the evening plans. As it nears tea time, you collect a new bundle from Nadia and set off for Aisha and Salim's house

So far things seem to be progressing even more smoothly than you expected. Asra opens the door for you, confused because their parents told them to wait here for you while they went to "run some errands"

"MC?" He eyes the bundle under your arm curiously, a bemused smile on his face. "Is it time for the next part of your mysterious plan?"

"Not yet." You drag them to the couch and pull them down next to you. "Now we take a nap."

He's not arguing with that. You doze with him, knowing that the coming night is going to be longer than he can guess. You shake him gently awake as the sun begins to set, brewing him a quick cup of tea before you hand him the first bundle

"I can open this now?" They smile teasingly and purposefully fumble with the wrappings

Inside is a lovely new set of clothes, Nadia's gift. They're styled and tailored perfectly enough to be suitable for any party, and yet as durable and practical as the best traveling gear

It's twilight when you walk across the palace bridge hand in hand. You can hear and smell the festivities wafting from the palace gardens, and even better is the thrill of curiosity and excitement in Asra's fingertips when he squeezes your hand

They're prepared to be dazzled by whatever delights you and Nadia have clearly conspired to create, but they don't expect the number of people present when the two of you enter the grounds

All of them people he knows, all of them people he's friends with, but so many he assumed he didn't mean anything to. He was expecting to see under ten people, but this number is easily over thirty

They can't remember a time when they were considered a part of a community. For as long as they can remember, they've been a wanderer who found home with the two people they felt most connected to, with no permanent place or support system

This is different. Seeing all these recognizable Vesuvian faces in one place is the proof that there is a community around him, and that this community has a spot for them in it

The evening is magical. There's all kinds of food laid out with puzzles to solve to unlock different dishes, there's floating magical bubbles which play out different comical scenes in whorls of colorful light when they're popped, and there's a game of riddles that lead him on the silliest scavenger hunt Vesuvia's ever seen

Eventually it becomes late enough that even the night owls are beginning to get tired. Muriel disappears briefly and returns with two traveling packs, which he trades with you wordlessly for the shop key

Asra watches in delighted confusion. "MC, there's more? Where are you taking me?"

"Where do you think?" You bid everyone your goodbyes together, Aisha and Salim adding their own mysterious "see you soon"s, and then you're taking their hand and walking through the silvery moonlit fields to meet with a familiar beast

A very sleepy Faust curls herself up under Asra's shirt as the two of you take off. His head turns so he can speak in your ear over the rush of the wind

"We're going to Nopal?"

"Nopal first," you murmur back, "and Zadith after. Your parents say they want to show us where they learned alchemy - and where you got your name from. We'll meet them on the coast in a few day's time."

You won't always be able to plan elaborate garden parties or a month away from the shop for Asra's birthday. But for the dimples that keep appearing and the contented love and joy in their eyes? You'll do it as often as you can

#the arcana #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #happy birthday asra alnazar #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra the magician #asra alnazar x reader #asra x apprentice #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana fanfic

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gardenofnoah · 1 year

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your god came to you bloody and you fell to your knees

a little priest au for my dearly beloved, for my signs of God and other Devils collab (which you should totally join!!!). i tried something a little different with the style of this one...let me know what you think <3

wc: 2k tags: smutty smut smut, sacrilege, reader is not human (fallen angel but not really)

The old book told him that only those who had fallen from grace would be cast down from heaven. Angels ripped of wings–mouths that would never again speak of the divine. The abandoned blessings of a God that had so painstakingly created them. Purity and holiness strong-armed into something unsightly and obscene–an abomination of truly biblical proportions.

Yet there you were at Nanami’s feet.

You’d slipped from the old wooden rafters, hitting the cobblestone below with a wet thud, like a calf falling from its mother’s womb. Wings still fully intact, fluttering uselessly behind you. Writhing in your agony, you crawled toward him.

“Father,” you cried, dragging yourself toward him on splintered nail beds and bloodied palms, “Father–”

He took a step away from you, and then another–unsure of the scene in front of him, and weary of the unfamiliar coil in his chest–the one he’d been warned of, the black snake of temptation. But even broken and flailing in whatever viscosity you’d been covered in in your descent, there was no denying the pull of you that called to him. The realization that he may lack the strength he’d, until now, thought he had came distant and went on just as quickly as his eyes trailed over you.

If it was a test from God, he’d already failed.

The notion that you could be the image of gluttony before him carried significant weight–yet it was not heavy enough to keep Nanami from washing the film from you, however undevout it might have proved him to be. If every action had a consequence–if he was truly to be a man of service, after all–then surely to run his hands along your flesh, unmarred from the film of earthly sin, would not be such a bad thing. The consequence could not be so cruel if it was true that it was his duty–mandated by the oath he took–to extend his hand to you. That in doing so, he would not turn away from the God that he’d sworn his life to. Surely no angel could have fallen so far. Surely no angel would have come here to him.

You spoke quietly and his body followed, like that of a moth to the light of a flame. You could not have been here to corrupt him—to touch your face did not burn him.

“Father–” you croaked, quiet and rasped from your efforts, “please, it hurts–”

“Beloved,” he murmured back, wiping the thick sludge from your cheek, “what have you done?”

The water that trailed down your skin was enough to subdue you into a quiet, or maybe it was out of necessity–Nanami did not know if your silence was out of peace or of pain, as the drops crackled against your the film that encased you and dissolved it in a plume of foul smelling smoke. Unblemished you were underneath, and it was another blinking light to him–you could not possibly have been sent here to ruin him.

But as he raised the cloth to rid your wings of the slime, you let out a sigh as he touched the thin membrane, and he found himself chasing the sound. He’d only blinked and there you were, arched into his touch as he mouthed up the curve of your neck, panting and whimpering at the feeling of your silken wing under his fingers. Something called to him, a far away warning–and he dug his fingers into the flesh of his own thigh to break the spell. Bewildered, bewitched, blinking at you as if he’d only seen you now for the first time.

“You are–” he swallowed thickly, fighting to come back to himself, “what are you?”

Blinking slowly at him, unperturbed. “You have a notion, Father?”

Like you’d called him to, he found himself moving in again–found himself stuck where he’d started, his tongue catching droplets that dripped from the wrist you’d slung over the rim of the basin. Something sickly sweet bloomed behind his teeth and told him he was damned.

“You are no angel,” he murmured against your skin with as much certainty as could be mustered, “and yet–you cannot be a demon and remain in this house of God.”

His eyes snapped to yours at your snort, knowing at once that all along he had played to your hand. No longer were you a pitiful thing, scraping your knees against the stone to earn his mercy. Now, you held the answers, and he’d remain on his knees to beg for your indulgence. That he was sure of.

“Do you speak only in absolutes, Father?”

Unwilling to bear broken proximity and equally unable to respond, your patience could’ve been a gift to him, if it hadn’t felt so oppressive.

“I know that the path of righteousness is a clear one.”

Your responding laugh was a brand to the softest part of his body.

“Father,” cooed in his ear like a secret, “your God could not be so kind.”

As you stood from the water, seemingly tripling in size and looming over him with wings outstretched, Nanami was bathed in the understanding that he was never in control. His eyes trained on every curve of your body, every droplet that trailed down your breast– knowing with certainty that what would follow would require his complete submission to you.

Knowing that you’d had it from the minute you’d called to him.

“You ask what I have done,” your wings reached up and over the two of you, closing him into the world you commanded, “as if you have not called me here.”

All of the knowing you’d dangled above his head, now dropped unceremoniously into his own mind–the truth wasn’t nearly as devastating as it should’ve been. At once he knew he’d been the one to fall from grace. You’d merely come to collect his debt. And yet, he could not bring himself to grieve, as he’d never known a divinity like this one. On his knees, it was he who crawled to you, lowly bent to kiss your feet.

“You will ruin me,” rasped and pathetic, against the arch of your foot. If he’d only looked up at your bared teeth, he’d have known how true the sentiment was.

“No more that you have.”

He’d never again know an ache like the one in the pit of his stomach as you’d reached for him, and to go willingly only worsened it. Nanami made peace with the idea that if this was the hell that awaited him, he’d be cast down willingly. If the price for entry was a pleasure so sublime, he’d give every earthly penny he’d ever earned.

Settled over his open mouth, he drank from your sex like it could be the only thing to save him–the ache spread to his teeth and danced, burning, behind his eyes, but there could be nothing to thwart him from this. He’d never known an indulgence so human as this, yet the silken heat of your folds against his tongue was ingrained somewhere deep inside him, and every broken cry from your lips was something owed to him. Outside of his body, he was a voyeur to his own trailing hands, buried in the soft give of your flesh that he knew could not be human but felt that it was, until his fingertips met the slip of your wings and he was reminded again.

A pleasure so sharp it could have been pain spread through him like you’d lit him ablaze, and he found himself closer to an edge he’d no reason to approach, as untouched as he was. And yet as he closed his fist around the papery thin flesh and pulled, it was as if he’d sunk himself inside you to the hilt. You rewarded him with a cry of the name he hadn’t yet told you and another obscene flood of arousal that flowed down from the corners of his mouth and soiled the neat fold of his roman collar.

“More,” he groaned, pitiful against your heat, writhing in his own pleasure beneath you, “please, more–”

Suddenly you were gone from him, and mindlessly he chased you, stumbling across the stone beneath, still so damp from you–

“Does it feel good, Father?” he could only know the heat of your breath in his mouth, so close he could just lean forward and be swallowed whole by you, “your lust–the greed in your veins. Is this not what it means to be devout?”

“Yes,” he could’ve sobbed, head bowed forward like it was your forgiveness he’d sought after, “yes, please, I need it–”

Your chuckle was as patronizing as it was knowing, as it lit up everyone of his nerve endings. He knew he’d give you anything.

“Bare yourself to me, then.”

The movement was unconscious and swift, and then he was splayed out over top the remnants of your arousal, offered up to you like a lamb to slaughter. Sweating, unable to still the incessant twitch of his hips in search of a pleasure only you could give him. Hungry in a way he’d never known in all of his years.

Your appraisal could not have come without a price, and he closed his eyes to the shame that flooded him. But, merciful as you were, it was short-lived–you stepped to him and sank down, and you could’ve just as well reached inside him and pulled out the very matter of his being.

It was an unbearable heat you sheathed him in—one that slithered up inside his rib cage and coiled around something raw and animalistic there, only to bring it to the surface and let it devour him alive. He writhed with it, unable to stop the curl of his spine or the snap of his hips into yours as he thought only of the wet silk of your insides. He could come up with no reason why he’d hoped so fervently for a heaven after death, when he’d been spared something far more luxurious, still alive.

It spread like a slow moving poison until it consumed him entirely. The vice of you around him, the wings that still caged him in–it coated every synapse in his brain, dulling every other sense but to feel, and every other thought but to take, though he could hardly call it a poisoning if he’d drank from you so willingly–

“Is it so awful to give in to temptation, Father?”

The time for morality had been long gone, and Nanami could only shake his head, moaning broken praises and half prayers to a God that watched on in horror, and still he could not think of a single reason he’d ever denied himself this pleasure. He’d never–he’d never–

“Give yourself to me,” you purred in his ear, taking great care to drag the edge of a feathered wing tip over the curve of his throat.

With only one more devastating roll of your hips, you shattered him completely–body lurching up in search of the comfort of yours, only to be met with wings that pinned him in suspension, dangling him in some blessed agony he’d hoped to never leave and to never experience again, for all it did to turn him inside out. Visions of the true divine came to him in a burning revelation–answers to questions he’d never uttered out loud came and left him as he spilled himself into you until he was reduced to the most basic function of dragging shuddering breaths into lungs that could seemingly no longer expand.

When he opened his eyes to find himself alone, he could feel no surprise. Nor was he startled to hear a now familiar, echoing laughter against the halls of the cathedral as he let out a low curse and dragged his naked, aching body off of the cold stone.

It was another unearned indulgence to allow the smile to spread slowly across his face as he pulled his robes back into place.

Perhaps he believed in acts of God after all.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fic #nanamin #jjk fic #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #bea’s writing club #collab: signs of god and other devils

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mondaymelon · 1 year

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⸝⸝⸝ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞… | albedo x gn!reader

prompt ˎˊ˗ | albedo helps you... study.

warnings/notes! ˎˊ˗ | fluff, highschool au, albedo is your tutor ♥

(a/n) ˎˊ˗ | another request by @eaeaeasaggresively (please oh lord why must you love albedo so)

"4 failed classes... two classes with a barely passing grade of just one point... 20 missed assignments and a multitude of failed tests..." Albedo's expression remained the same. "...I can see why you might need my help."

"Yeah..." Laughing awkwardly at the platinum blonde male, you slid into the seat across from him, sighing. "About that..."

"There's no need to be so nervous." Albedo mirrored your gesture before rummaging through his schoolbag. After a brief moment, the male fished out several study papers and textbooks and stacked them up on the table between you two. "After all, I'm here to help."

"Mhm." You pulled out the mechanical pencil you had brought, mind already starting to drift elsewhere before another action caught your eye. Albedo, moving his chair next to yours, so close that the two of you almost bumped shoulders.

"Okay, what exactly do you need help with?" If he noticed your sudden flustered state, he didn't seem to pay any heed.

"Ah- y-you're letting me choose? Uhm... how about science then? I mean- if you're okay with it...!" As discretely as possible, you had a silent mental breakdown, not sure whether to move closer to Albedo or scoot further away. From your dazed state, you could make out Albedo's pristine features as he smiled.

"I'm okay with that. Science is my passion. You shouldn't have any problems with me around." He gave you a small smile, an uncommon sight for you to behold. Nevertheless, you cherished it with a red face and frantic demeanor.

"Let's start with the basics then. So for factoring chemical equations you'll have to..." His serene voice faded into the background, a welcome addition to the white noise buzzing inside your head as you focused on his focused expression. His features were relaxed, and his teal eyes sparkled from the sunlight streaming into the classroom. Albedo's blonde hair was brushed elegantly into his usual style, as he wrote some notes onto a sheet of paper - notes that, as of the moment, weren't exactly your highest priority.

"...And that's about it. Does it make sense? What should I teach you next?"

"Kiss."

"...Sorry?"

"Teach me how to kiss."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your mind had already wandered far from the original topic, which didn't help you stayed focused. Yet, the utterly shocked look on the male's face was almost worth it.

"Is... Is that what you want?"

Was he... blushing? You must be mistaken. Albedo, dubbed as the prince of the school, was a polite but cold person, and the fact that he had smiled in front of you was already enough. Yet... there was no doubt, the light dust of red across his expression... you felt your heart skip a beat just at the sight of it.

"And if I say yes?"

"Then this is my answer."

With ease, the man leaned forward, closing the short gap between the two of you and sending warmth shooting across your body. You could feel his lips against yours, a sensation that just about seemed to overload all your nerves. Heart pounding as the world faded away, you peeked open your eyes just the tiniest bit - you had kept them closed out of pure shock and flusteredness - and saw a sight you wouldn't regret.

As the sun peeked over the clouds in the sky outside, glowing beams streaming through the windows into the empty classroom, Albedo's hair sparkled like golden thread. The gentle, almost wobbly smile that had spread across his face wasn't enough to distract you from his slightly flushed cheeks and ears. His eyes opened as he pulled away, lashes fluttering as he revealed his beautiful, azure blue eyes which you had come to adore.

You had to catch your breath before you spoke, the rush in your ears and racing of your heart roaring loudly. Thankfully, Albedo took your place, widening his smile gracefully as he kissed you one more time, taking your hand in his before meeting it to his lips.

"Full marks."

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somber-sapphic · 2 months

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Training Day

〖Summary: Alex takes care of Lena while Kara is away.〗

〖Word Count: 1k〗

〖Pairing: Alex x sick Lena (platonic)〗

〖Notes: Please forgive me for my very little knowledge of military training. I've been trying to write this for a very long time so I also apologize if it's a bit iffy in places but I do really hope you enjoy it. Also were not discussing the title, I don't have anything better in me today.〗

Lena huffed and crossed her arms, glaring down the short-haired DEO agent in front of her. She had been forced to wake up at the ungodly hour of five am to beat Alex in a fight. For some reason, the DEO decided that even a scientist would need to go through the same extensive training as the field agents.

It had started a few days ago and mirrored what she imagined Navy Seal training would be like plus a few extras directly on how to fight aliens. That included assembling special guns, a written test about which alien had which fighting styles as well as a basic course in how to treat different poisons the aliens might possess and which would kill you in an instant. These weren’t the only things but they were the ones she cared enough to remember.

The thing that had really gotten Lena was the mile swim. In what world would she need to swim a mile she had no idea but apparently, it was a requirement. She wasn’t a bad swimmer but she wasn’t fantastic either. She’d managed to complete the mile swim in just under the allotted time. The salt in the icy ocean clung to her clothes and hair making the experience all that much worse.

That was thankfully the only test of the day but it left Lena freezing, unable to warm up no matter what she did. The cold also reminded her of the scratchy throat she’d had for a few days and brought more attention to other symptoms that had remained milder. The barely sore throat quickly turned to something much more painful and it was like over the span of a few hours she had developed what she was sure would be an awful cold.

Her nose was running nonstop to the point where she had just decided to hold a tissue against it so that she didn’t have to keep throwing them away. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart and she’d wrapped herself tightly in a soft blanket before falling asleep on the couch, her hair still wet.

None of that mattered. She couldn’t let it matter, there was just no time for that. She wasn’t sure when they would let her go through this training again. No matter how much she argued about her close combat skills she was still told that she needed to fight the second in command that of course being Alex.

It had been a long time since she’d squared up against such a well-trained opponent and knew that in her current state, there was simply no way that she’d win. Her goal was just to go for as long as she could before either her body gave out or Alex got bored. She was hoping for the latter which would save her some embarrassment.

So far that plan wasn’t working. Alex had pinned her four times, the rounds lasting only a few minutes each. The longest she’d managed to hold her own was five minutes and she knew that she’d need to prove she could last longer if she ever wanted to be officially allowed in the field. The field being her lab in the DEO.

“C’mon Luthor, let's go. One more then we break.” Alex ordered, raising her fists. Lena did the same, assuming a fighting stance. The world was swimming around her, making it difficult to keep her eyes focused on the brunette in front of her. She was trying to track Alex’s movements but the woman kept doubling and shifting, her movements glitching in and out of Lena’s view.

When the kick swept her legs she didn’t put her arms out to stop herself much to Alex’s surprise. The young CEO began to fall, her eyes wide and bewildered. Alex reached out quickly and grabbed Lena’s wrist, managing to catch the bit of skin that wasn’t covered by her sleeve.

Just by touching her wrist, she could tell that the heat was more than a normal higher temperature caused by exercise. Lena's skin was clammy and slick with sweat. As Alex examined her closer she noticed the red nose and hair stuck to her forehead with more sweat. Her friend was shivering hard, curling in on herself.

“Geez, you’re burning up.” Alex moved the back of her hand from Lena’s cheek and laid her palm against the shivering woman's forehead. The sleepy woman sniffled quietly and shrugged, not speaking. She was too tired to talk, there was just not enough energy in her body to pretend anymore.

“Alright. I’m going to take you home, did you bring a change of clothes?” She asked, wrapping an arm around Lena’s waist to take most of her weight. The younger Luthor sagged heavily against the agent, barely able to stand on trembling legs.

“No,” Lena answered, offering no further explanation. Alex rolled her eyes, smiling fondly down at the woman she assumed would be her future sister-in-law. She’d seen the box in the drawer of Kara’s bedside table and her sister had sworn her to secrecy.

“Okay. I’ll get you home soon, you won’t have to be in these clothes for very long. And, you’re showering as soon as we get back. You smell.” She teased, getting a little whimper from the woman leaning against her. With another eye-roll, Alex scooped Lena up so that she was carrying her bridal style.

“Why?” Her charge asked, not hesitating to rest her head on Alex’s shoulder. She was pretty sure that she had no other choice, her body was utterly devoid of strength.

“This is just easier Little Luthor. As soon as we get you settled I’m going to call Kara, alright?” Lena nodded, closing her eyes as she was carried out of the training room. She’d fought hard against this virus but for now, she was down for the count. At least she would have Alex there to look after her until the woman she loved got home.

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