Tumgik
#so I have just gone for Vibes down to the very ends of things (and indulged my long-held affection for copper-toed boots)
zombeebunnie · 11 hours
Text
Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙
Tumblr media
Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]
Tumblr media
"How are things going so far?":
It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.
I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.
"Playtester's advice":
I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.
To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]
I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]
Tumblr media
"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":
As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.
I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]
My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!
Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.
If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!
This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]
17 notes · View notes
chiropteracupola · 4 months
Note
or a different palette ask: cowboyce alan and davie in ‘lobotomy’?
Tumblr media
I traveled through October, the mountains and the plains / Hoping that the losses won't outweigh the gains...
24 notes · View notes
alfheimr · 7 days
Text
My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
Tumblr media
this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
Tumblr media
the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
Tumblr media
this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
Tumblr media
so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
Tumblr media
these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
Tumblr media
this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
Tumblr media
gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
Tumblr media
some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
Tumblr media
here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
Tumblr media
i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
Tumblr media
i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
Tumblr media
yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
Tumblr media
i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
Tumblr media
the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
Tumblr media
let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
Tumblr media
just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
1K notes · View notes
dungeonpuppykai · 2 months
Text
|| Party Girl ||
Tumblr media
Summary: You secretly go to a party mid exam season and your friend forgets to exclude Ari, your responsible senior boyfriend, from their social media stories. To make things worse, said party is at his rival, Ransom Drysdale's house, who unbeknownst to you, ends up posting a picture of you two together. 
Pairing: Daddy/Cg!Ari Levinson | Little!You.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Ari Levinson. This is a mature story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Smut with plot (c'mon it's me), spanking (ass and pussy), punishment, protective!Ari, possessive!Ari, Daddy kink, ddlg vibes, orgasm denial, rough p-in-v, cock warming, slight angst because we are being responsible for once, mean Ari, dacryphilia, humiliation, begging, doggy style, hair pulling, choking, slapping, dumbification, unprotected but reader is on birth control, creampie, degradation, maybe slight fear kink.  
Note: First independent Ari fic go boommm~ Also omg I'd forgotten how good ddlg can be lmfao the warnings literally increased a shit ton from the teaser. Lots of love to everyone who was so nice to the teaser. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
"Mmm, Dadduuuuu~" the remnants of the painkillers that you had hurriedly chugged down were still bitter on your tongue as you returned to your boyfriend in the living room. Sliding over the couch from behind, you crawled into Ari's lap and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. The stiffness of his form went unnoticed by you due to your much unfortunate hungover state. Him not turning the tv on to watch some sports should have been the second sign that your fate for the day had been sealed before you had even woken up. The first was him showing up to your apartment unannounced and cooking you breakfast. Not that you knew it yet, it was to prepare you for what was coming. You foolishly took it for granted and thought he had come over to study together as he sometimes did on Sunday mornings.
"Slept well, baby?" You purred into his soft hair to signal agreement as one of your hands reached to snake around his dark brown locks.
"Yes, Dada~" you gave the third sign yourself. It was habit for you to get super clingy whenever you were sick… or hungover. "Followed bedtime rules~" as you smiled and craned your neck to bat your lashes up at him after lying through your teeth with shameless confidence, you sighed to yourself. 
God.
You really, really, really loved and appreciated your boyfriend but right now you wished more than anything that he rather have some other plans today. 
Because it was 8 in the morning on a Sunday! 
Since you had snuck out, you had to pretend that you had gone to sleep at your bedtime; which was 10pm. But the truth was that you had stumbled into this very apartment with your roommates at 4 in the morning drunk off your rocker! All you wanted right now was to crawl into your bed and sleep the whole day away. 
"Oh, is that so?" You were too tired to notice the mock in his faux amusement.
"Of course, Daddy!" You tightened your other arm around his broad shoulders in as convincing a way as you could muster. "Good babies follow Daddy's rules, right?" Shame nipped at your cheeks so you kissed his cheek to hide the blush that was spreading across them. 
You felt bad but if Ari found out, your butt would feel worse.
Besides, what he did not know could not hurt him.
… Right? 
Ari nodded, leaning his heavy body to one side in order to fish his phone out of his pocket before he unlocked it, softly squishing and pulling your ass with his free hand. "Do you have a twin, baby?"
Your eyebrows furrowed and you snorted at the randomness. "What?" When he did not respond and kept swiping away on his phone you added, feeling just a little uneasy now. He only behaved like this when something was wrong. "Of course not, Daddy." 
"Then this is just the craziest little thing, isn't it?" He turned to look at you and the intensity in his sky blue eyes made you gulp.
"What is, Daddy?" You had checked your app settings three times to make sure he was excluded so it couldn't be that. 
… Right?! 
"Come here" the pretentiousness in his enthusiasm was clear as he 'excitedly' pulled you closer. Ari was not like that. He was the chill, laid-back kind of guy and you were the frivolous, fussy and noisy one. "Look at what I saw on Dee's story last night!" As he showed you a screen recording of one of the many stories your friend had posted last night, your blood ran cold. "Doesn't this girl standing between her and Steve look just like you?" You gulped as he pointed at a carefree you having the time of your life doing silly TikTok dances with your friends as your titties bounced in the skimpy outfit that you wore to the party.
Oh, he did not appreciate you wearing those kinds of clothes in public settings. 
Especially if he was absent at said settings.
"But of course, it's just a lookalike" Ari nodded sarcastically in a fake reassuring manner, every word laced in mock. "Because… wait, when was this? Oh, yes" he checked the time it had been posted. "This was way past my baby's bedtime who was in bed after studying for her upcoming exam the entire day!" Since it was a screen recording -you could always count on criminology major Ari for precaution-, the next story played and there you stood happily doing another dance with… fuck. 
You were dead, done, dusted, deceased. 
Or at least, your ass was.
Your urge to kick Dee increased with the passing second.
"And of course, the party was at Drysdale's house" the blood under your face was bubbling. "So there's no way that's my baby because she would never betray me like that, right?" Ransom was Ari's arch nemesis. 
The major fellows continuously rivaled each other in grades and their respective sports. While your boyfriend was the football captain, Ransom was that of the basketball team and there was even a rumor that they had initially competed for the title your boyfriend now held all throughout their freshman year. Since Ransom refused to be subordinate to Ari, he had left shortly after losing to him and had joined the team he captained now.
But Ransom had always been so nice to you it didn't feel right being mean to him!
Or yes, perhaps he was a tad bit too nice. 
You were naive and Ari was overprotective.
Another story rolled on. Dee had the camera in selfie mode as she pressed her cheeks against Steve's -her boyfriend-, who was nuzzling against her and laughing at you along with her. You were having a chug off with– you wanted to facepalm with all the strength you had. 
Fucking hell, you did not even remember meeting Ransom let alone having a beer race with the guy! And now there was footage of the event you had blanked out in your unhappy Daddy's phone! 
Why had he even hung out with your group for that long?! 
"This girl is gonna get in soooo much trouble!" Steve tipsily pointed at you as you drunkenly cheered and waved in the camera upon being shown, grabbing another bottle from your boyfriend's rival but only sipping at it now. In your defense, you did not remember the Ransom bits because you couldn't care less for the guy and you were probably too drunk by the time he found your group. 
"Shhhh, it's a secret, guys…" Dee pretended to whisper into the camera. "Ari doesn't know she's here, we excluded him from our stories!" The football captain was a renowned campus topper so it didn't need any more explanation than that. 
How said captain managed to keep up with all of his obligations, was a popular mystery.
"And she's gonna be one sorry little girl when he finds out" Steve spoke like the loyal friend that he was to Ari, both his substitute captain and childhood best friend. His girlfriend laughed and switched to back-camera again to show you. "He's not gonna be happy, you know?" The blonde man was heard speaking to you as though you were a child and you were glaring at him exactly like one. 
"I am a big girl!" You scowled as you shot back, cheeks puffed and arms crossed. "And if he's gonna be unhappy then that's just too bad!" Dee had told you that her boyfriend shared the same old fashioned thoughts as your Daddy regarding certain things. "Because I don't CARE! He's not here and I am!" You giggled into the camera as you stumbled closer, your nose colliding with the lens as your whole group laughed with you. Then, as though you hadn't damned yourself enough, you grabbed the camera and looked into it. "Sorry not sorry, Daddy! If you mind so much… come and stop me? Oh, what's that?!" You winced and cringed at the girl in the video -you- as she put her hand behind her ear to 'listen' better. "You can't?! Because you don't even know?! Oh–" the phone was snatched from you with a cackle and the story ended abruptly along with the music and laughter. 
How the hell did you not remember any of that?!
Your face was hot in embarrassment.
And what the hell would you even do that for?!
"Huh" Ari snorted as he cocked his head to the side. "Did you hear that, baby? They were talking about me" you looked anywhere but at the smug man, praying for your ass and wellbeing. "But since there's only one me and I only have one baby…" You gulped as you gingerly detached yourself from him and tried to move away only to fail. Daddy had a near death grip on your butt. 
His suspicions from yesterday had just been confirmed. Ari could read you like a book and he had noticed something was off about your behavior yesterday. To which you had denied by brushing his questions off and assuring him that everything was fine.
Only…
Your heart was hammering against its cage in panic. Clearing your throat after nervously chuckling a little, you tried to politely twist free from his rough hands. "Y- You're right, Daddy… that's n- not me" now why would you say that?! As Ari raised an amused eyebrow at your sheer audacity, you went to stand. 
"Is that so, little girl?" And then you dared to nod, only digging your grave deeper. 
"Yeaah… Oh! I think my phone's-" you tried to make a run for it but one heavy arm wrapped around your form to make you stay put.
"Oh, yes" much to your horror, Ari took your phone out from his other pocket now. "Your phone, how could I forget?" Unlocking the screen showing a picture of you two cuddled up on a camping trip, Ari tapped on your Snapchat app. "I am so proud of you for following all your rules and studying hard yesterday, baby" he said as he tapped through your many stories from last night before swiping to story settings to find him crossed out. "I really treasure the trust we have built in this relationship" that made you lower your head, his disappointed voice enough for your throat to tighten. Now he tapped on your Instagram and went to a pending tag request. "And the mutual respect is just off the charts" your eyes stung and bottom lip wobbled when he pressed at said request. 
Ransom had tagged you in a selfie he had posted with you, the both of you posing with your drinks. The caption read 'Saturday night shenanigans' and there were comments from his friends about– of fucking course. 
No wonder he had clung to your group like a leech after spotting you amongst them last night! 
He had used you to one up Ari. 
You opened your mouth to speak and raked your tired mind for excuses. But none came. When you slowly looked up at your pissed off boyfriend, you sniffled in defense and gulped down the huge bile that had formed in your throat. His anger was justified. What was he to make of all this? 
You would have reacted in a much worse manner had you been in his place. 
Hell, you actually had ghosted him for a whole week early on in your relationship once because some cheerleader was getting too handsy with him.
That was before Ari had taught you how to communicate. 
Jeez, he knew everything, didn't he?
Why couldn't you just shut up and obey your Daddy without question because he clearly knew best?!
"I… s- so sorry, Daddy…" His face was stern; features hard and eyes a dull disappointed blue instead of the usual intelligent bright coral. You tried to say more but shame strangled you and your bottom lip wobbled again. "Sorry…" Turning around in his arms and placing yourself flat against his lap, you couldn't help but pout. You wanted to say more, you really did. But no words came. 
Ransom's stupid post had closed all paths to easy redemption. 
He was so dead!
You just knew Daddy was not going to let him get away this time. 
"Are you?" The arm that faced your back laid down along its length, his elbow firmly digging between your shoulder blades to nail you in place. "Or are you only saying it because you got caught and are in trouble now?" A hiss left you when he squeezed your ass and caught an old bruise in his grip. 
"N- No, Daddy!" You whined. "R- Really do m–" your words were sucked out of your throat in a gasp when Ari gave a particularly hard pull to one of your cheeks, causing your pucker to painfully stretch sideways in the process. 
"I am sorry, what was that?" You pouted. 
He got so mean during punishments!
Yet, you could feel your special parts bubble up to life. "R- Really do mean that I am s- sorry, Daddy!" 
The older only hummed. "Good" before his calloused fingers disconnected with your ass cheek only to come down on it with a heavy smack a few moments after. "You should be." A loud grunt left you as one of your feet kicked up defensively. 
"Oh!"
Ari hummed as he drew his hand back and then brought it down again, your cheeks jiggling in the process. "Yes, oh" the sarcasm was making your cheeks burn even hotter. But as his hand worked on your poor little butt that was sure to have started blushing even in its still clothed state -which were some panties that you wore under one of your boyfriend's huge shirts-, you realized that things were yet to get worse.
Much worse. 
"Lying" five smacks followed that and you jumped with each one. "Sneaking out" each of your cheeks received a spank before your naturally wet panties -Ari was to fully blame here, his existence alone triggered you- were peeled off with a click of his tongue before six repetitive strikes were administered to your now blushing and much nude butt. "Staying up past curfew!"
"Sorry, Daddy!" You could do nothing but helplessly grip his leg and lay ass up at his mercy. 
"Oh, already, little girl?" Ari's calloused palm was relentless as it continued to collide with your fleshy cushions after being pulled back up in air to produce as much force as possible. "But I have barely even started with you yet" you kicked your legs to help and fight the pain of his harsh slaps, your spoiled little butt jiggling feverishly with each hit. 
"Oh, nooooo!" You couldn't help but sink your teeth down into the hard muscle of his lap when a particularly hard thump fell directly atop your pucker and made you feel as though it had shattered the rim.
Ari was a really strong guy after all.
"Oh, yes" your boyfriend taunted as he paused his hits to harshly squeeze one of your cheeks before pulling it away from the center and creating space between your legs. "You disobey Daddy, lie to him and break his rules to go to a party that–" your lips formed into an 'O' shape as you arched your back and nearly mewled in response when he cupped his free hand against the curve of your blushing ass, fingers tapping against your moist core. "Ransom fucking Drysdale is hosting," your tingling pussy was now beginning to warm up due to his incessant pats. "And then as if that's not enough, you party with him and fucking post about it–"
"Ouchie, Daddy!" You cried out when he pulled his hand out from between your ass cheeks only to resume the spanking. "Please!" You were sure that your whines and pleads were going to wake the girls up. 
… Not that it would be the first time that they would overhear you getting absolutely railed or punished to fuck and back.
"Oh, and let's not forget hiding your silly little social media star adventures from your Daddy!" Your eyes were starting to tear up from how badly your poor ass was throbbing. 
"Swear I am sorry, Daddy!" Ari clicked his tongue when you tried to get away, placing a firm hand on the small of your back to keep you trapped and meek. It continued like that for a couple minutes and it was only when you were afraid his next hit would draw blood did he stop.
Only…
"Dirty little girl" Ari grunted as he moved down and onto your soaking pussy now. "Making a mess all over the fuckin' place while she's being punished, tsk" your bottom lip wobbled as you blinked away stars that the heavy slap had caused. "Is your silly little brain too stupid to understand that this is not playtime, huh little girl?" The tenderness in his mocking words made you the wrong kind of warm and before you knew you it, tears were streaming down your face due to how exposed and sensitive you felt. 
"... N- No, Daddy" you sniffled and he snorted. "N- Not playtime…" Your mouth quivered.
"Ah, great. The good old academy award performance!" Your features scrunched and you sobbed out loud at that, trembling when Ari slapped your core again. "How could we leave that out!" 
"R- Really do mean it, D- Dada!" Your boyfriend tutted before connecting another strike to your vulnerable folds. 
"Is that why you're leaking like a dumb little slut?" Your eyes clenched shut as you anticipated yet another spank but were surprised when one of his fingers pressed into your leaking slit instead. "Because you're so sorry?" Your body tensed and fingers tightened around his leg regardless of the suddenness, whilst his invaded and explored your narrow passage of flesh. 
"Daddy…" Your head fell limp as you hissed, clenching around his finger as it slowly pumped in and out of you. 
"Do you think you deserve to feel good after you humiliated your Daddy like that, little girl?" Your frantic breaths got heavier and more labored as his finger gained momentum. "Making all those asinine big girl speeches and daring your Daddy to participate in your kiddy little games like he has the time?" You could only shake your head as you sucked on your thumb since it had snuck its way into your mouth out of habit, willing your hips closer to your relief. 
But Ari knew your greed too well.
And his thick digit was pulled out of you with a loud and devastating plop to which you reacted with a sharp turn of your head, gaping up at him with your teary eyes with shock painfully evident on your face. 
The male shook his head with a sigh. "You really thought I was gonna let you off the hook just like that?" 
"B- But…"
"But, what?" The edge of his words along with the intimidating raise of an eyebrow killed all your protests in your throat.
"N- Nothing, Da–" You hicupped. "D- Daddy."
"Hm, that's what I thought" Ari nodded sarcastically as he kept his eyes on you but continued to torture your pussy with the lightest of rubs and prods for a short frustrating while. "Get your backpack" you whimpered at his tone which was still as harsh as ever. 
He was still very much upset. 
"Y- Yes, Daddy" lifting your body off his and onto your feet, you couldn't help but lower your head in shame as you waddled away while biting your lip to hold back your sniffles.
Grabbing the carelessly discarded backpack from a corner of your room, you rubbed your stinging eyes as you walked back to your giant of a man, your shoulders trembling into a shake as you tried to breathe and were forced into a hiccup instead. 
Ari didn't take it from you when you held it out to him, as not per usual. "Take out a practice notebook and a pencil" oh, fucking shit. Your eyes welled up with tears again when he refused to acknowledge your puppy dog eyes, instead crossing his huge arms over his broad chest and raising an eyebrow at you, "well?"
You opened your mouth to try and plead your case but his unimpressed expression made you close your mouth momentarily before finally uttering out a quiet, "Y- Yes, Daddy." 
You were not graced with a good girl today. Instead, your boyfriend rested his back against the couch and watched you squirm under his dark, intense gaze while carrying out the order. As your hands shakily fiddled with the zippers of the bag, you contemplated whether to whine and pout your way into getting him to melt. But then a bitter flashback of the image Ransom had posted heated your cheeks and you couldn't help but lower your head in complete defeat.
When you had finally fished out the items he had asked for in the most awkward and downright pathetic manner -as you dropped multiple things a couple times before fulfilling the seemingly basic task-, you nervously shifted your weight onto one foot, silently holding the items out to him again.
Usually, he made the makeshift quiz paper himself.
But.
Ari was not in the mood to pamper you in any way. Well, that's what you got for vehemently lying to him all day yesterday when he was being so loving and sweet. He had even offered to come over and go to sleep together all cuddled up. To which you had made some half-assed lame excuse. 
Your boyfriend's next orders were to open a new page and jot down a question which basically asked for a summary of all the academic tasks he had planned for you yesterday. You gulped to yourself as you pondered whether to confess or pretend to solve the contents that you didn't even bother to look over let alone study. 
In your humble opinion, only geeks studied during the weekends.
But one look at Ari's face and you knew your only option was the latter. Because you could not take disappointing him yet again so soon. 
Though deep down you knew it was inevitable after what you had done.
So, off you went pretending to write into the page while trying to hide it from him, desperately raking your mind for any information similar to the keywords. Except you forgot that you could never win against your boyfriend who was now reaching for your elbow. Your whine turned into a grunt when your throbbing butt cheeks were not only lowered to make you sit on his lap so he could look at what you were doing, but the material of his clothes grazed against your sensitive skin. And then his fat tip prodded against your swollen pussy. 
You weren't allowed any time to adjust -not that you needed any, courtesy of his cruel punishment- before you were lowered all the way down on his angry red leaking cock. Despite your attempts to be as quiet as possible to keep his annoyance in check as much as could be managed at this point, you cried out at the intrusion.
Your boyfriend was way too big for you not to.
The skin of your impaler was hot and rigid, erect in long and thick cable-like patterns in certain places, the top grazing against your most sensitive part and causing the formation of neon stars in your vision while the even thicker base violated your intimate part like it was meant to be treated that way. Your heartbeat was in your ears.
"Well?" Ari's taunt was nearly breathless. "What are you waiting for?" Right. His beard tickled your arm as his cheek pressed against it to have a better look at your nonexistent work. "Go ahead."
You had gotten so carried away by the much needed penetration, that you had momentarily forgotten about the object of your doom that stared up at your hot face blankly from its position in your hands. Though as you went to begin your little game of pretend for just until you could ride his dick -or just rub against it- into relieving the ache between your legs, your boyfriend's heavy arms wrapped around your waist and restricted any and all movement, his warm chest pressing into your back.
Your mouth fell open when you felt Ari press your stomach inwards against his cock, its ridge pressing up into you with the full intent of now intruding you even deeper. His throaty chuckle spent vibrations up your pussy and spine alike from where he connected with you.
"You seriously didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did you, little girl?" Your lips wobbled into a pout as you whined softly, feeling sweat break out on your skin as you struggled to write, then erase, scribble a meaningless half sentence and then rub it clean with the eraser once more. 
When you didn't respond and instead took your frustration out on the poor paper that was yet to see something substantial, Ari threw his head back and gave a loud laugh. The action caused formation of another series of cruel reverberations that were still not the required friction but enough to edge you on and you cried out in exasperation, crossing a word out this time because your patience had had it with the eraser though the force you used to do so caused the nib to break. 
"Huh, you did think it was gonna be that easy!" You resisted the urge to fling the notebook across the room, instead half turning to whimper at him in a pleading manner. 
"P- Please, Daddy…" His blue eyes ignored your glassy ones and instead traveled to the notebook in your hand. 
"Hm, let's see what we have here so far…" Unwrapping one arm to hold the bunch of binded papers that was dangling from your hands at this point, Ari hummed. "Nothing, how surprising" you didn't think it possible for him to sound any more disappointed than he had already done but here you were. 
"Daddy, I am sorry!" Your frustrated whine was loud enough for him to finally look at you and that with a challenging twinkle in his eye. "I- I mean…" Biting your lip, you couldn't help but lower your head, unable to hold his gaze in these kinds of situations. Ari Levinson was an intimidating man, boyfriend or not. "I- I am sorry that I broke almost all the rules–"
"Almost?" You bit your tongue and tried to reach for his hand but were denied the pleasure. 
"Sorry, sir…" Taking a deep breath to calm yourself and try to clear your clouded head, you continued. "I am sorry that I b- broke all my rules yesterday" his silence and lack of movement signaled that your offense required more rectification than this. "I am sorry for not being honest and l- lying about everything that I did wrong and– ah~" a sensual whine forced itself out of your throat when his cock suddenly twitched between your walls. 
"Go on" maybe he was liking this. Perhaps this was the way. 
It had to be. 
You had fucked up enough for a month and redemption was a vital need.
"A- And…" Your heart rate picked up even more. "I am s- sorry for not listening to you about Ra-" your heart jumped when his body tensed and you had to recompose yourself before continuing. "... About R- Ransom. You were r- right and I should have trusted your word because Daddy always means well…" You could make out his growing smirk from your peripheral.
"Oh, is that so?" You whined.
"I am sorry, please! I get it! I will never question your word ever again, I promise!" Because that was what this was about, the extra cruelty anyways. "J- Just please…" Your opening was so sore. 
It was crazy how good he was at holding himself back.
You were too impatient for edging.
"Please, what?"
"Please use me, Daddy…" You dared to peak up at him through your lashes. "N- Need you so bad…" 
"But big girls don't need Daddies" you could scream out at this point. 
"I am not big, Daddy! I promise!" Your voice finally broke and tears came flowing down in frustration, his arm still not allowing your hips any movement. "I… D- Daddy's dumb little baby… dunno anything…" Leaning closer to him, you were glad to finally be allowed his hand when you reached out for it yet again. "N- Need him t- to think for me… and take c- care of me…"
Ari sighed and stayed quiet for a few moments before speaking, hopefully contemplating whether you had suffered enough or not.
Preferably the former.
And then. "Because you can't do it on your own?" You shook your head eagerly. "Because you're such a silly little baby that your useless mind needs Daddy to make all the decisions?" Oh, yes.
"Y- Yes, Daddy. B- Baby is too stupid to know w- what's good for her" your pussy clenched around him at your own words, causing his eyes to darken. 
Ari nodded in agreement. "That's right. Nothing without your old man, are you?" Oh, God. You clenched again at his words and hummed in agreement, unable to form any words this time around and ducking your head down to press your lips to his neck submissively.  "You need me, don't you, little girl? To make even the simplest of decisions for you" the notebook and pencil were taken from you before being discarded on the couch. "Tell you when you need to eat, sleep, wake up, go potty, study…" He moved effortlessly with you still clamped on his cock, moving you both down against the coffee table, you on your hands and knees as he straddled you from behind. "Who to speak to, who to stay away from, where to go" your eyes fluttered close as you felt him move inside you, humming along his words. "What to do at what time…" With one firm hand on your hip, Ari gathered your hair into the free one. "When to breathe…" He whispered once he had pulled you closer by your hair, holding your throat with his free hand. 
You gulped and clenched around him again, eyes rolling up momentarily. "P- Please, Daddy~" you squeaked out helplessly.
"What do you want, baby?" The male still refused to move. "Use your words for Daddy."
"N- Need you, Daddy" you tried to rock yourself against him but the attempt was in vain. "Please, Daddy. Need you so bad!" 
"And how do you need me, baby?" You groaned when he curved your body with the grip he had on your hair even more, causing your body to jut outwards and his dick to change position. 
"Every way, Daddy!" You were on the verge of breaking out into sobs again. "Please, Daddy! Please, use me!" You reached behind to tap and feel for his arm, your fingers curling around it when you found it. "Any way you want, Daddy! Please, please, use me! Need you so bad…" As you squeezed his wrist you realized that anything would do at this point.
You just needed him to fuck into you regardless of the position. 
You would cum wet or dry all the same. 
"Any way I want, huh?" His hand let go of your throat to reach for your tits as his chest draped over your sweaty back. You could only nod out with a whine, nether regions in extreme need of relief. "What about… dirty little baby slut getting fucked like the little cockwore that she is for her Daddy?" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he finally moved his hips, causing you to whimper out loud, arms trembling as the upper half of your body threatened to give out against the cold floor. "Being reminded of her little place?" You groaned aloud in agreement, moving your head back until it was pressing into the crook of his neck, back arching when he twisted one of your nipples. 
"Yes, please~" you breathlessly whimpered, feeling your knees shake when a loud plop sound resonated against the wooden floorboards behind you as Ari's thrusts gained some speed, your hot slick hanging and thumping out of your weeping pussy and onto the ground. 
"How she can't even– shut up" your head lolled to the side when your boyfriend tugged at your scalp with the grip he had on your hair to turn your face sideways. "Shut the fuck up. Not one word. You have had more than enough undeserved speaking privileges for a few weeks. Now Daddy will speak and you will only listen like the dumb little slut that you are" you pursed your lips tightly shut to hold yourself back from accidentally disobeying him. A harsh slap was addressed to your neglected boob. "Is that clear?" You jumped and gasped, the movement causing his tip to pound against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Nod if you understand" you cried out in response to how your nipple was pulled.
Fighting the urge to verbally respond, you hurriedly nodded and bit your lip in anticipation.
"Tsk, would you look at this stupid little baby…" Ari's voice was gravelly as he tutted at you, increasing the pace of his thrusts to his typical slut pounding rhythm now from the previous one which was more of a smooth, velvety intrusion that was sometimes for torture and sometimes to get you to adjust. "Can't even fuckin' breathe without my permission" his hand followed his words and enclosed around the shape of your neck again. "But tries to act all big and independent in front of her silly little friends, tsk" the sound of skin slapping against skin was getting louder by the second, your delayed orgasm quickly rebuilding itself through the pressure and haze Ari's denials had caused your insides. 
"S- Sorry, Daddy!" Your knees were literally squeaking against the floorboards at this point and you just knew that you were gonna be very sore everywhere tomorrow. 
"I told you to shut up" his rhythm changed to long and hard penalizing jabs as he pulled your collapsing body back up by your hair and sat up on his knees, now fucking up your tight cavern. "Stupid little baby slut" Ari's grip on your throat disappeared for a few seconds to land a slap on your wet cheeks. You hadn't even noticed that you had started crying from the intensity of it all. "Can't even carry out basic tasks" now your other cheek was made to share the same heat as your body bounced all the way to his ridge only to come gliding all the way down and onto his heavy ballsack with loud squelches. Though it was all happening so fast you could barely keep up or comprehend it. 
"Stop with that mouth breathing" your nails dug into the skin of the arm he was using to suspend your head upwards, the other set pressing into the palm he wrapped around your throat now. "Disobedient little whores like you don't deserve that" and then he finally squeezed, restricting you of what little way of coping you had been clinging on to deal with this prostate shattering pounding. "Think you deserve to breathe after what you've done?" His words were nearly venomous.
Though this much cruel final loss of autonomy caused the hundreds of knots that had formed in your abdomen to finally explode and your loins boiled over. Your tense body fell limp against his and color drained out of your face, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clenched around his cock and milked it subconsciously. 
Ari was breathless himself as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Did I say you could cum?" He let go of your throat when you began to lose consciousness and forced you back to the present. "Tsk, only you would dare to cum when you weren't even allowed to speak" but then how were you supposed to ask? That was just it.
This was why you did not piss Ari Levinson off. 
Now he moved your upper half onto the floor and laid your head against it so your cheek pressed against the cold wooden boards as you numbly blinked out the stars in your vision, feet cold and mind too fucked out to process anything. Your ears were ringing so you could barely make out any of his insults and heart was thumping with such heaviness in quick intervals that you could feel it against the skin of your chest. Although only faintly.
Ari widened your thighs and lifted them off the floor to position himself even better against you. So you were nothing but an actual fuck doll for him to use. But before he began the ultimate battering of your hot and wet walls that had relaxed by now, Ari moved one of his legs out and reached for your head with his foot to both lock you in place as well as to reach you the deepest he could. 
A shiver escaped you when you felt his heavy foot place against the side of your head and push your cheek deeper into the ground. Then one of his hands gathered both your arms into it and bundled them on your lower back. Last was his free hand which smacked both your cheeks before he grabbed a handful of one your hips.
And then the pummelling began. Your body slid, slipped, collapsed, nearly gave out and faded into unconsciousness multiple times as Ari fucked you so hard that both the sound and smell of raw flesh colliding filled the entire room until nothing else remained. 
It was all so much that your mind gave up trying to comprehend it. The only thing you could decipher now was Daddy; inside, outside, under and above. And though Ari had fucked you probably beyond dumbness at this point, you felt your body -that was working independent of your mind now- curve when your pussy clenched again and you got wetter, hitting another orgasm when your boyfriend's hot seed exploded into your cavern and overflowed the narrow space.
"Look at you, baby." Ari panted as he pounded his orgasm out into you, his animalistic thrusts causing little droplets of both your cum to fly everywhere. "You look so perfect in your slutty little habitat. So completely fucked out under Daddy's foot, barely conscious yet inviting all the same." It took him a few moments to slow down and finally stop. 
Though when he finally did, he reached for his phone and turned his camera on to record pulling his monstrous girth out of your battered pussy, snorting at the sight of your pucker winking at him defensively as your pussy dripped of his seed, the abused hole gaping open submissively. 
"Tsk, tsk. What a slutty little baby I have here" Ari tutted as he watched you through the camera, squeezing your bruised ass before landing a harsh slap on it and causing both the cheeks to jiggle as well as some of his cum to plop down onto the floor. "Making all this mess on the floor like a dumb little slut who has no control over her body…" Now he moved the lens towards you and zoomed in on your face, pushing your face into frame with his foot. "Do you have any control over your body, baby?" When you just blinked up at the camera, he snorted. "You may use your words now, come on." 
"... N- No, Daddy…" You croaked out softly.
"Who does?"
"Y- You do, s- sir…" Ari's smile was finally one of pure satisfaction.
"That's fuckin' right" another smack was addressed to your ass. "And you better fuckin' remember that next time you want to be a sneaky little disobedient lying brat" you could only nod submissively as you stared into the camera, feeling him move away before he pulled you up by your hair and sat you on your knees to face the camera properly.
"I- I will, Daddy. Th- Thank you." You wanted to look down and not at the camera but you did not want to take any chances. 
You were so close.
"Hm," Ari caressed your cheek with the back of his hand before softly moving your hair out of your face. "Maybe I should post this on the campus forum, huh? Since you like being a little social media star so much, huh baby?" Your boyfriend cupped the side of your face now and wiped away your drying tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Would you like that? Everyone seeing how good you can be for Daddy?"
There was only one answer to that question. "W- Whatever you think is best, Daddy" your voice was hoarse as you looked up at him from the camera now, moving your face sideways to kiss the hand that was caressing you. 
"There's my girl" a condescending pat was given to your cheek before Ari cut the video off and stood to his feet to fix up himself before putting his phone away. "You're coming with me. I've had enough of this silly cat and mouse chase." The edge of his tone made you whimper.
"Yes, Daddy." 
Ari hummed before bending down to hold his arms out for you. "Now come here" your bottom lip wobbled as you used whatever little strength you had left and flung yourself in his direction with grabby hands that he easily caught and lifted you like the baby you were with little to no effort. 
"I am s- so sorry, Daddy" you wrapped your limbs around him and whimpered into his soft hair gratefully, resting your tired head on his broad shoulder. "Really am."
"I know, baby. You took your punishment well, I am proud of you." His ticklish kiss was tender against your sweaty temple as he slung your now packed bag over his other shoulder and made his way to your room to pack your other things. "Rest that pretty little head now, Daddy's got you." Before he pushed one of your pacis in your mouth: a shiny yellow one shaped like a duck, and tucked your favorite candy doll under the arm you held out for it with a barely audible whine. 
The party girl was gone and only the little girl remained, enveloped in her Daddy's loving hold as she drifted off to sleep.
Tumblr media
Tag List 🩷; @goodkittyspost @loklaufeysonssgodess @emerald-writes @milknhonies @teen-wolfsydia @identity2212 @i-heart-anne-b00nchoy @hazycottagedreams @lokislady82 (can't tag you lovelies :()
2K notes · View notes
aemondsbabe · 6 months
Text
Taunt
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!
summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 10.5k (dear lord)
a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)
PRAISE | Taunt Part 2
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟
Tumblr media
“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 
A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 
“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”
“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”
“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 
He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 
It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 
His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.
You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 
“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 
“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”
“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”
Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 
“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”
“And how would you go about doing that?”
“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 
“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 
Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 
“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.
Tumblr media
Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”
Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 
“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 
“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 
“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 
Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 
As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 
“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”
“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 
Tumblr media
“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.
“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 
You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”
“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 
“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”
You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 
Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”
“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”
“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”
“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 
“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 
The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 
“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.
“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 
The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”
“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 
“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.
“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.
“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 
His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”
You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”
Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 
You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.
“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”
The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 
“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.
He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 
You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 
But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.
“But I’m bus–”
“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 
“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 
Tumblr media
Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 
Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.
“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 
You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.
“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 
“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 
“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 
Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”
“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”
“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 
You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 
“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 
“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 
“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”
You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.
Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.
Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”
“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 
“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”
“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 
The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”
You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?
“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 
He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 
“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 
His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”
“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”
“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 
Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”
“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 
You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 
Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 
He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 
See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.
Tumblr media
It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 
“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 
“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 
“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 
You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 
“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 
“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 
“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 
He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”
“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 
He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 
You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 
He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 
“Do you?” 
“Fine, yes.” 
“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 
You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 
You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 
A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 
“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 
“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 
“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 
You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”
“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 
“You.” It comes out as a breath. 
He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 
Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 
He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 
“None?” 
“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 
“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 
“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 
Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 
He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 
You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 
“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”
“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 
“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 
You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 
“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 
You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 
“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 
“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 
He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.
Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 
“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 
You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.
You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 
“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”
You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 
You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 
“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 
You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 
“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”
You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 
“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 
His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 
Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 
You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 
Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 
“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 
“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 
You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 
“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 
“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 
“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”
“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”
“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”
“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”
You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 
“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”
You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.
“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 
You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 
You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 
“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 
“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”
At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 
He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”
The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 
“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 
You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 
Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 
“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 
Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 
He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 
His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 
“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 
“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 
“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 
“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 
“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.
“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.
He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”
“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”
“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.
Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 
The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 
You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.
“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 
You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 
You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”
You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.
He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 
You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 
“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”
“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”
“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”
“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”
Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 
“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.
“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”
His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 
Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.
Tumblr media
tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
2K notes · View notes
viennakarma · 5 months
Text
Everything I Wanted II.
LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)
Tumblr media
Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 8.9k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.
I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.
Find me on Twitter!
-
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
-
You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.
Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.
During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.
Nobody noticed anything.
One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.
“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.
Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.
“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”
“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”
You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.
“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”
You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.
“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”
You took his advice to your heart.
You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.
The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.
That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.
When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.
“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.
“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.
Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.
“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.
“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.
“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”
You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.
And yet-
Somehow-
You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.
“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.
You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.
As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.
He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.
“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.
He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.
Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.
“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.
Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.
That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.
It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.
But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.
You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.
“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.
“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.
“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”
You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.
“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”
“No, uh, I haven’t.”
Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.
“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.
There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.
“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.
“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”
“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.
“What are your plans for this competition?”
“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.
The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.
“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.
“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.
“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.
“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”
The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.
On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.
“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”
“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.
“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.
“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.
“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”
You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.
“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.
You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.
It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.
“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.
The rivalry never died down though.
Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.
“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”
“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”
“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”
“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.
The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.
That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.
The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.
In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.
You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.
You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.
“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.
“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.
“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.
“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.
“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”
You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.
“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.
You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.
“How does it feel?” 
“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.
“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”
“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.
“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.
“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.
“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.
“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.
“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.
“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.
“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.
“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”
You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.
“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”
You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.
“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.
As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.
“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”
Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.
Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.
“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.
“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”
Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.
“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.
You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.
Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.
After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.
Thank you. Twice. - Lioness
The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.
After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.
Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.
You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.
Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.
The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.
“Y/N? What happened?”
“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.
“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.
“It’s mom”
“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.
Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.
In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.
You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.
Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.
“What happened?”
“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”
You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.
You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.
When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.
Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 
Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.
You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.
The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.
In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.
You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.
“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”
“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”
“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.
“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”
The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.
“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.
“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.
“Damn, thanks.”
“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”
You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.
“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”
As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.
“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.
You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.
You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.
Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.
Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.
“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”
You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.
The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.
You had to honor your mom in some way.
That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.
You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.
After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.
Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.
Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.
While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.
You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.
“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”
Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.
Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 
“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.
“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.
Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.
“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.
“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”
“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.
“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.
“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.
“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.
After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.
My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.
She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 
But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.
All the love, Y/N
Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.
You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.
With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.
You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.
You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.
Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.
“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.
“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.
You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.
“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.
“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.
“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”
“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”
“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“No trying. Do it.”
After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.
As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.
The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.
Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-
“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”
“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”
You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.
Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.
“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.
“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.
As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.
When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.
“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.
“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.
“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.
“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”
“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”
“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”
“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”
You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-
“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”
“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.
You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.
After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.
You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.
“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.
“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”
You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.
“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”
You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.
“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.
“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.
That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.
When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.
You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.
“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.
TAG LIST: @be-your-coffee-pot @supremebaddietrash @mellowarcadefun @cmleitora @kyuupidwrites @80sloverry @newlifeforus @soulaires @hrrorflm @redwolfxx @icarus-nex @jenniferrvsesi @bborra @leilanixx @hc-dutch @withyoutilltheendodthismess @is-just-a @freetimemachinequeen @saturnchase @butterfly-lover @eddiesbitch83 @elliott-calls @nb26fort @wcnorris @vellicora @mac-daddy-210 @hiraethrhapsody @losore-prone @gills-lounge @enrapturedbythemoon @formula1mount @mightiestheroes @cherry-piee @chezmardybum @whodis-26 @mortallyblueninja @f1mockingjay @dance-the-painting
2K notes · View notes
jujutsubaby · 1 month
Text
🫧 skin care daddy 🫧
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.
"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.
"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.
"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.
"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.
you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.
"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."
you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.
you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.
you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.
you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?
nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"
"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.
nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."
you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.
"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.
nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."
"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"
"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.
"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.
"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.
"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.
"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."
nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.
"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.
"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"
"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"
"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"
damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.
"27 and still unmarried? shame."
"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."
"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."
you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.
your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"
"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.
"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."
"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.
nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"
"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.
you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.
you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.
"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."
Tumblr media
"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"
"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.
"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"
"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.
you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.
you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.
"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.
"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".
"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"
"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.
"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."
"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"
you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.
your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.
yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."
you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.
"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."
"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?
you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.
one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.
"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.
"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.
"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.
"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.
"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.
"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.
"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.
"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.
yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.
what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.
"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."
"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.
"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".
he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.
"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.
"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.
and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.
"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.
"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.
"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.
you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"
"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.
gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.
"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.
"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”
“what?!” 
“are you a virg-”
“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 
“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 
“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 
“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”
“y-yes?” 
“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”
oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”
“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”
you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 
“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”
what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 
gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 
just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 
“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 
your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 
“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 
you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 
you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 
“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”
he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 
you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 
unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 
“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”
gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 
he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 
you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 
“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”
you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.
your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 
gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 
“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 
“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 
hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 
the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 
“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 
“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 
“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 
“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 
your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 
“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 
“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 
gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 
you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 
“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 
“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 
“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 
“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”
he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 
“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 
gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 
“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 
you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 
“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.
you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 
“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 
his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 
you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 
“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 
“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 
gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 
“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 
“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 
“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  
“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 
he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 
you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 
“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 
gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 
gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 
“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 
gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”
you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 
everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?
“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 
“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s
“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 
“did you enjoy it?”
a pause from you.. “yes.”
“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 
you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”
“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”
“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 
“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 
you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 
Tumblr media
needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 
“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 
you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?
“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 
“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 
you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?
within minutes you get a response: 
gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈
407 notes · View notes
justanothervoreblog · 2 months
Text
A Date for Valentine's
Tumblr media
You would always tell yourself that Valentine's Day was for suckers. People who needed a single day to celebrate love. As if saying that made the day any less lonelier. This year, you decided to get with the holiday and put yourself out there. Luckily you managed to find someone who feels exactly the same way that you did.
You meet up with him and things are going great. If you had ever believed in the power of Cupid’s arrow, it was now. He was funny and relatable, and he knew all of your favorite bands and video games. Not to mention he wasn't that bad to look at either! Things were going so well that you decided to say yes when he invited you over. After all, your Valentine's Day was going well, so why end it now?
The good vibes continue all the way to his apartment. Although you do notice that he's unusually hungry. Odd considering you watched him swallow down three pizzas, but people were quirky like that. Besides, you are far too focused on the dirty talk that he was doing. Saying things like “I can't wait to eat you up” or “You look delicious”. One that particularly got you was stripping you down and licking every inch of your body. That one had your skin tingling!
Once you stepped out of the car, it was a blur. You don't know how two people could walk and make out at the same time but you made it work. Up three flights of stairs, pushing each other against the walls, tearing each other's clothes off, the works. Your hair was ragged by the time you had reached his door. Hot and bothered couldn't nearly describe how you felt.
Inside the door, the two of you traded kisses and hickeys to the couch. After some playful wrestling, he ends up on top of you. You are expecting more to come, but what comes next is not in your horoscope. He makes some comments about how delicious you look and how he can't wait to get you inside. You have no idea what he's talking about, frankly because you thought you would be bottoming. However, when his mouth opens wider than it should, saliva dripping down from his teeth, you realize that this wasn't just kinky talk.
What comes next is a smelly mouth and an invasive tongue. It looks over everything. Your face, your ears, the back of your neck. You pass into a tight pink tunnel, warmed by the air coming from below. The only thing you can hear is the steady gulping from your would-be date and now-turned predator. He didn't have any issue with turning you into a Valentine's Day meal. And with every gulp, that becomes more of your reality.
You don't know how long you spend in the tunnel. You pass by a very loud heartbeat as it slams in your ear. Eventually, you push past a tight ring of muscle into what had to be the smelliest place on earth. His stomach reeks of the pizza he had devoured. And soon it would reek of you. Your head, shoulders, and your upper body all slide in quickly. Your legs kick weakly on the outside and steadily more and more of your body is becoming wet and slimy.
Eventually, your shoes are taken off, that tongue wraps around your wet socks, and what's left of you in the world is gone. You feel your legs travel down his throat as you curl into a ball. With a steady thump, the date is over and the final course, you, was served. On the outside, your date rubs over his belly content with yet another helpless romantic lured in on Valentine's Day. He taught you about how love hurts and that this way you two will be together forever. Or something like that, it's muffled through the churning of the stomach walls as well as the gurgling.
As you settle into your temporary home, a bittersweet thought comes into your mind. You still weren't spending Valentine's alone. You would be with your pred, for as long as it takes for him to digest you. As the stomach walls squeeze around you and press all of the air out of the chamber, a soft smile plays on your lips. You gently pass out as that huge burp vibrates the apartment.
There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day.
Happy Voretine's Day ❤️❤️❤️
461 notes · View notes
chronicbeans · 3 months
Text
Romantic Lucifer x Cutely Flirty Reader
We're not using "Hey babe" here. Here, we got that "You're a cutie patootie, pookie". That's the best way I can describe the Reader's vibes on this.
TW: None, unless you hate fluff
Tumblr media
• You both met when he visited the Hazbin Hotel. You actually met him as he was leaving and you were heading back to the hotel with some supplies you were buying. You were more than a little surprised by the carnage that had occurred while you were gone... However, you noticed Lucifer, and decided you might as well say hello.
• He's surprised by how polite you are compared to, say, Alastor. You talk for a bit, before you let him go back to his place. The first thing that you end up telling Charlie, once you talk to her, is pretty simple! "Your dad is adorable-"
• Thus begins your flirtation, whenever he is around. However, you do try to make sure he's not uncomfortable with it, to you keep it very low-key at first. The most you'll do is wave to him, saying "Hey, pookie!" as a greeting. He's probably a bit confused, at first, but shrugs it off.
• A bit confused means very confused, in this case. Especially when he notices Charlie looking embarrassed by it. Sure, he's heard pookie used romantically, but he's also heard it used platonically, so the fact that you're flirting hasn't hit him... yet.
• You both become friends rather quickly, sharing a love of things you find cute, like rubber ducks, Razzle and Dazzle, and Keke. You decide that, since you've become such good friends, it's time to up the ante a bit. You are now more prone to waving him over, saying things like "Hey there, sweetie!" or "Pookie bear, look what I've found!"
• It's at this point, he feels he's getting the hint. You're definitely flirting, in your own way. He likes you back, yes... However, he doesn't want to ruin such a good friendship. That, and he wants to be sure you like him for him, and not his looks. So, he starts waiting for you to show signs that you truly like him outside of flirtation - things that have more of a meaning than that, or cliche love tropes.
• And he gets that sign. One day, you come running up to him, holding what looks to be a rubber duck. "Pookie! Look! I found a duckling!" "Oh, that's such a cute little thing-" "quack" Oh, it's not a rubber duck... It's a real, living, breathing duckling. He's rather impressed by the fact that you found one in Hell, of all places. It's not even a demonic duck, either! It's a normal duckling! You must've went through a lot of work to get it, just for him...
• He takes it from your hands, looks down at it for a moment, before saying "This is our child now." And with that, you're dating. And you have a duckling baby, now. He's named it Charlotte, and it has it's own bedroom.
• He loves your flirting, to be honest, and may start to mimic it. You both call each other pookie all the time. You love to call him random names you come up with, like sugar bear, baby bean, cutie patootie, pookie wookie, and he loves all of them. His face practically burst into flames whenever you call him something like that. He likes to call you his little honeycrisp or apple pie. You two are drowning in fluff and Charlie is watching in pure shock, wondering how she got a duck sister and how you managed to rizz her dad by using cutesy flirting and ducks.
507 notes · View notes
misty-caligula · 11 months
Text
Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.
I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.
I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.
Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.
Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?
Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.
(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)
You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)
And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.
Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.
It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...
Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.
Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...
Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...
No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.
Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.
Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.
The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.
But Shauna took it first.
Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.
The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.
And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.
Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.
Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls. 
When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.
When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.
And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.
How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.
Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.
Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.
Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.
Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.
Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.
What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.
Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.
So...
They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...
And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.
So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.
(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)
And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.
It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.
S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.
And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together,  with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.
*takes a deep breath*
Which brings us to THIS asshole.
Tumblr media
Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.
Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.
Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.
Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.
In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?
Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.
Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.
So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.
In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks
Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.
And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.
(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)
Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.
Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.
It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.
And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.
At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.
And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.
Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.
Tumblr media
This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.
Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...
Tumblr media
They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.
Tumblr media
They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.
I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).
But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.
2K notes · View notes
lovelettersfromluna · 10 months
Text
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Sweet Little Lies *ੈ✩‧₊˚
{Ellie Williams x Reader}
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Being on tour with someone you’ve been ignoring for two months is hard…but doable
an: AHHHHHH!!! I am so excited to finally give you guys the second part of The Perfect Girl! I can confidently say that the vibe of this one has been so much fun to write and think about ideas for, and it makes me so happy that you’ve been enjoying it! This one is pretty short, im sorry but! the next part will be longer, fluffier and much smuttier hehe. Anyways, I hope you guys like this part too. 🖤 (Also yes I know I posted this before the poll was up but y'all saw how it was going im sorry I am an impatient woman)
Warnings: 18+!!! Eventual smut, Ellie is selfish point blank period, reader is extremely sad, some making out but doesn't lead to much, ANGST!!!!, this one is pretty short so not many warnings hehe. let me know if I missed anything pleaseeee.
Part 1 can be read here!
The rest of the tour was…rough.
After the night at the club, the silent treatment that you had for Ellie had gone from simply ignoring her, to pretending like she didn’t even exist.
Shows were awkward, practice was awkward, being in a fucking band with her was awkward. Not to mention the very noticeable divide that it put between you and the other members.
The entire situation made it hard to talk to anyone. It made you feel extremely isolated, because you had convinced yourself that no one could possibly understand, especially not the other two men in your band, so you barely spoke to anyone.
In return of that, the other members found it hard to talk to Ellie. Because ever since you had pulled away, things were just no longer the same.
The late nights hanging out in someone’s hotel room stopped, partying after shows were done without you, and the only times anyone truly ever saw you was when you had to perform. When you were done, you’d quietly go back to your hotel room to sulk.
The tour ended that way, with you silently pulling all of your things from the back of the tour bus once you had returned home and catching a cab back to your apartment in the city, going against the tradition that you all had done every time when coming back home, which was going to your favorite local bar and trying to out drink each other before stumbling home in the cold.
So now, you were home, still ignoring everyone.
It was hard for you. Because the girl you’ve looked up to for so long, wanted for so long, had said such mean things about you. And you weren’t an idiot, because never for a second did you ever think that Ellie could ever want you the way that you wanted her, even when you were wrapped up in her arms at night, or when she whispered stupid jokes in your ear whenever you were sad, her lips ghosting over your skin, you never once thought that you could have her. Because you weren’t a kid with a great big imagination, with hopes and dreams that you’d one day be swept off of your feet by her.
You knew deep down that it would never work out, and you were okay with that. You had long accepted that your love was unrequited, and as much as it hurt you to see her date girls she’d only known for a few weeks, and fuck countless groupies every night, you never let it get to you.
But hearing her say what she said, hearing those words fall from her pretty lips….it was like something was eating you from the inside out, and the love that you had for Ellie couldn’t outweigh the pain that she brought you.
And you couldn’t fucking do it anymore.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The decision you had made didn’t come without heartache. You cried, you screamed, you threw things, ruining your room entirely, your rage and sadness burned you so deeply, because in all of this you still blamed yourself, and not her.
It had been almost a month since you got back from tour, and you could count on your hands how many times you left your apartment. Dylan and Charlie came by the visit a few times, and their apologetic smiles somehow pissed you off even further, because it made you feel small and frail, like you’d never be able to come back from this on your own.
You appreciated them, and you enjoyed the times they were around because it gave you an out from thinking about Ellie.
But all good things would come to an end.
That’s how you found yourself at Dylan’s apartment. He was shocked when you showed up, having not seen you outside of your apartment in who knows how long.
He knew that whatever it was you were there for, was serious.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ellie felt like she was seeing red.
She slammed the door to her car once she arrived at your apartment building, her nostrils flaring as she breathed hard. She couldn’t even stop for a moment to think about what she was doing, or if you’d even be home.
But after her phone call with Dylan, she didn’t care. She needed to see you.
After tour had ended, she had found her way to your place a few times. The first time she had a bouquet of red roses gripped between her hand, which after 10 minutes of standing outside your door, she took home and threw in the trash. The second time she came by with a box of cookies from your favorite bakery, which she ended up angrily shoving into Charlie’s chest when she came back home and he was at her apartment waiting for her to teach him a new guitar riff. The third time she simply slipped a hand written note under your door about how sorry she was, which you had promptly ripped up once you saw the small ‘from: Ellie :’)’ written on the front.
That was the last time she had showed up, figuring that you’d come around whenever you had cooled down from the entire situation. What she didn’t expect though, was for it to go on for months after tour had ended.
But she was done, she was over this and she was over you ignoring her.
She knocked on your door loudly, staring knuckles banging on the wood of your front door, making you frown as the loud noise echoed throughout your apartment. You sighed, opening the door harshly.
“I told you I didn’t want one of your fucking pamphlets! If you don’t leave I’m calling the fucking-“ your words were cut off, eyes going wide as you looked up and caught eye of Ellie.
A very angry Ellie.
You sighed tiredly, already trying to close the door on her. “Go home Ellie…” you mumbled out. But her palm was pressing against your door and stopping you from closing it on her.
“You’re quitting the fucking band?” Her voice is harsh, and her words make you freeze as you stop pushing your door closed.
You figured word would’ve gotten out sooner or later…you just preferred later rather than sooner.
You let out a sigh, one of your hands coming up to tuck a strand of your hair back before you give her a half shrug. “I told Dylan not to tell you until the end of the month..” you mumble out, your eyes staring at your sock clad feet.
The second you confirm it, you’re confirming Ellie’s greatest nightmare, and she’s pushing past you and walking into your apartment before you can even tell her that you don’t want her in that, and that she needed to leave.
There’s no use in fighting her, because she’s already there and she’s clearly very pissed off, so you simply close your door behind you and lock it. You figure that if this is the last conversation you’ll have with Ellie, it might as well be this one.
Ellie is pacing back and forth in your small living room, hands in her hips as she tries to get a grip of everything that she’s learned within the past few hours. She wants it to be a lie, she wanted to come to your apartment and have you tell her it was all a prank, and she’d finally hear that pretty laugh of yours when you too made up and cuddled on your couch.
But you weren’t, you weren’t giving Ellie any of that and it made her feel even more pissed off.
“Ellie…” you mumbled softly, reaching out and trying to grab her arm gently, trying to calm the girl down so you could explain.
Ellie pulled her arm away the second you tried reaching out for her. The soft tone of yours was all she had wanted for the last three months, hearing the way you’d soothe her when she became too consumed in her feelings.
But Ellie felt betrayed, she felt like she was being left behind, like you were throwing her away and leaving her like everyone else did.
You were abandoning her.
“No! Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t talk to me for three months and the first thing I hear about you doesn’t even come directly from you? You didn’t even have the fucking decency to sit us down and tell all of us…you told Dylan and you had him deliver your message to us like he’s your fucking bitch” she spat.
You knew she was mad, you knew she’d come to your apartment in a rage when she found out. You had prepared for it, you prepared for all the nasty things Ellie would say to you.
But you didn’t expect any of this..
You inhaled deeply, trying your best not to let her words affect you.
“Look, Ellie…I just…it took me a long time to figure out what I needed to do to feel better. I don’t…it just isn’t working for me anymore-“ she cut you off, her hurtful words coming back with a vengeance.
“Bull fucking shit.” She spits out, and her tone is enough to make you flinch. Her words are cutting into you just like they had that night in her hotel room, and you’re trying to find something in you to not lose your fucking mind right now.
“You’re leaving because of me, because of something I said. You’re…you’re leaving behind something fucking amazing because I hurt your feelings. I don’t know how many times I have to say it! But I’m fucking sorry! Okay? I feel awful for what I said and I wish I could take it back but I can’t, and I’m sorry, but you’re being weak for leaving because of it” she yells out.
And everything stops….because all you can hear from anything shes just said…
Is that you, are weak.
And it’s like some sort of fucking phenomenon or something, because you suddenly feel like you’re being transported to that night, and you’re standing behind a wall, listening to Ellie laugh about how…how fucking unwanted you are.
And you don’t hold back anymore. You’re done holding back.
“Yes Ellie, are you even listening to yourself right now? Have you for one fucking second not been a selfish asshole to think about how any of this has affected me?” Your voice is tired, and it sounds like you’ve been internally fighting with yourself to keep these words inside.
“You hurt me Ellie! If you’re so sorry you said those things, then why did you fucking say them? Is it so hard to just say you don’t see me that way? To be a sensible human fucking being and not trying to dig me into a deeper hole than you already fucking have?” Your voice is growing louder and louder, and you’re slowly closing the space between the both of you as you shout at her.
When you’re right in front of her, your chest almost pressed against hers, your voice is quiet, and it almost sounds like you’re whispering to her for a moment.
“I never once believed that you could ever want me…but saying the things that you said about me, and then sabotaging me whenever I’m trying to live my fucking life…I can’t do it anymore Ellie…I can’t be around you anymore..”
Ellie almost fucking whimpers, because the tone of your voice is nearly enough to bring her to tears.
You aren’t even fighting anymore, you’re just tired. You’re practically begging her to let you go because she’s just held you in her hands for too long, never giving you the chance to grow and become something more than what you are.
Ellie feels it, just by the look in your eyes, she can feel that this will be the last chance she has to tell you, to come clean and stop lying to herself and to you.
Shes being given one last chance, so she knows she can’t mess it up.
“I’m in love with you.” She deadpans.
You roll your eyes, walking away from the girl. You had no time for games, and that surely meant Ellie falsely confessing her love for you just to keep you in the band.
You nodded your head towards your door as you watched her. “Nice try Ellie. I’m sure you’ll be able to charm some other girl enough to replace me as lead singer by the end of the month. It’s time for you to go” you sigh out.
And Ellie is practically whining as she makes her way over to you, towering over you as she pleads.
“I…I’m not lying…fuck id never lie about this. Leave the band if you want, I don’t care, I just…” she grabs your hand, bringing it up to lay over her heart as she sighs “I need you to know how sorry I am..and how I feel about you…” she sighs out.
Your eyebrows were furrowed as you looked down at your hand pressed against her chest, rolling your eyes as you used the placement to push her away from you.
“Ellie, cut it out. Seriously. I heard what you said about me, I heard all of it. Im not your type, remember? I look like a kicked puppy everytime you’re with another girl” you sighed out as you pushed past her, walking off into your living room before plopping onto the couch with a loud huff.
Ellie was groaning softly, hearing her own words being relayed to her in your voice made her heart break even more than it had before. She followed behind you, sitting on the couch and reaching for you.
“I..I didn’t mean any of that! I panicked!” her words catch your attention, but she groans when she sees the unamused look you’re giving her.
“I swear…just…” She tried, pleading for just a bit of your time before she was getting on her knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart so that her body was pressed against the edge of the couch, and you had no choice but to look at her.
“I’m an idiot, okay? The last thing I wanted was for Charlie and Dylan to tease me about having a massive fucking crush on you…I just…you’re too good for me, I’m not…I know that you deserve better than me…but I can’t help the way I feel about you. It eats away at me at night and it makes it hard to sleep and it doesn’t stop unless you’re around” She rambled, her eyebrows knitted together as she spoke.
Her closeness made your cheeks burn red, and you tried to keep your face down because you knew the longer you’d look into her eyes, the easier it would be for her to make you fold. You frowned as you shook your head, and before you could even speak, she was already talking.
“Please…please I’m so sorry baby…it’s killing me…not being with you is fucking killing me. I’ll leave the band, I’ll pack up and you can find a new guitarist to take my place just..” her words died down, and her fingers were placed gently under your chin to force you to look at her, and you almost lost your breath because..
Ellie was crying.
And not only was Ellie crying, but Ellie was crying for you.
Her green eyes were rimmed red, and her eyelashes were clumping together, and your insides twisted because all you wanted to do was to hold her, pull her into your chest and tell her that it was okay, that you were okay, and that you could be together.
But you couldn’t. Not after what she did.
“Ellie I…I can’t…” you mumbled softly. You opened your mouth to explain further, but you found that you couldn’t speak.
Because Ellie’s like were pressed firmly against yours.
Her long fingers were cupping either side of your face, keeping you close as her lips moved against yours. You gasped softly, trying to break away from her, but she used it as an opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth, and from that point on, you melted into her completely.
You moaned softly, and Ellie was already pushing you back to lay against the couch, her body hovering over yours as she kissed you so deeply, so passionately, you could feel all of the love she had for you seeping into your mouth.
It felt amazing, having you pressed up against her, whining into her mouth and breathlessly begging for more. It was like every dream Ellie had ever had of you was finally coming true…
But she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that came with it.
If this is what Ellie had always wanted, why was it that she felt like she was doing something wrong? Why did it loom over her like a dark cloud, soaking into her core and making her feel terrible about doing this to you…distracting you from everything she’s done with sweet kisses and breathy moans.
She wanted it…god she wanted it more than anything
But this wasn’t right.
She furrowed her eyebrows as she gripped your waist, moaning softly as she pulled away from you. You frown in confusion, staring up at her and searching for what might be wrong, what you had done to make her stop.
“What? What is it Els?” And Ellie swears she’s never heard something so sweet, the nickname you had for her like the sweetest melody she’d ever heard.
She sighed, gently pulling away from you as she shook her head. “This isn’t right…” she mumbled softly. She sits down across from you, her legs spread with her elbows resting on her knees, hunched over a bit.
You frown as you watch her, sitting up and adjusting your tank top, suddenly feeling extremely exposed underneath the girls presence. “Do you…not want me?” You mumble softly. Ellie’s eyes are nearly bulging out of her head as she quickly turns to you, grabbing your face and pulling you close as she shakes her head quickly.
“No! God no I….you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of angel…it’s just…” she sighs, her voice raspy before she starts again. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go…you’re worth so much more than what I’ve given to you…I’ve been mean, and selfish and...And I come here expecting you to just forgive me and...and give yourself to me and...it isn't right.." She sighs out. You pout softly as you listen to her, and you are suddenly remembering all of the things that Ellie said, and you can't help but agree that the wounds are still fresh.
She notices how deep in thought you are, and she uses her strong hands to grip your thighs and pull you so you're straddling her lap. She licks her lips, her hands toying with the plush skin of your thighs as you both stay there for a moment, before she breaks the silence.
"Im not going to convince you that you need to stay in the band...if you really want to leave, thats your decision..but..." She sighs softly.
"Let me prove to you that you're what I want...give me one chance to do this the right way, and I promise princess...you won't regret it.." Her voice is raspy, and it reminds you of all the times she would talk to you while you both laid in bed together and you couldn't sleep. It reminds you of all the times Ellie called you on the phone in the middle night, too high and too needy, just so she could hear your voice.
And it reminds you of how in love you are with Ellie Williams..
Your hands slowly go to rest on her shoulders, your fingers toying with the ends of her hair at the nape of her neck, and you can swear you can see the girl visibly glow the second you give her a nod. In an instant, she's pulling you closer and pressing kisses to your neck, in spots that she knows you're extremely ticklish at. You nudge her gently to stop before you both settle down.
"Thank you angel...I promise...I'll do right by you.." She mumbles softly, her pretty green eyes staring at your plush lips before she leans in, pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to them, almost as if she were afraid she'd break you all over again.
1K notes · View notes
utilitycaster · 6 months
Text
Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice
You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.
Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.
Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.
Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.
Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.
Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.
Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.
Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.
Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.
Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.
Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.
Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.
Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.
Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.
Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.
461 notes · View notes
risingsuntarot · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1--2
3-4
General Messages & Advice !!
⚠️TW Quick mention of s*icidal ideation⚠️
I honestly had no set plan for this reading negl so I kinda just pulled out some cards to describe the collective energies and give them some advice sorry if this is long !! This took me quite a while so any love would be greatly appreciated!! Thanks for reading 💜
Excuse any typos :+//
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Pile ONE
---Cards pulled---
Ace of cups/Queen of Coins/2 of Coins
---Clarification---
9 of Coins/7 of Coins/8 of Wands
I see you're able to either barely able hold onto your emotions and new beginnings or you manage them quite well no inbetween
Youre extremely intelligent, patient yet fast and direct, dedicated and multifaceted it may have taken a lot to get to this point although
Im sensing a lot of emotional sensitivity yet you are perceived as stone when you feel like glass
"Petite, Cute, Princess, Marilyn monroe, Dainty" maybe youre described as such?
Strong sense of justice and very dependable, able to maintain balance
Maybe you feel lost inside? S*icidal ideation ? Or loneliness is a big factor
Possible lack of belief in change and self confidence
Im getting Hopeless romantic or dissatisfaction in love life if im being honest
No inspiration for life :'+(
Unstable Family background or relationships
Youre extremely pessimistic arent you? Im so sorry but i feel genuine pain hurt and the urge to cry almost? But something wont allow me to
Suppressed emotions or memories :+((
---ORACLE/ADVICE---
Eagle "see from a higher perspective"
Air Gaurdian "Shift your perception"
Lord "Take charge with authority"
High Priest "Intend ans Create"
There is a need for the sun and nature for playing a huge part in your healing, maybe its seasonal depression or simply anxiety or the "no inspiration for life" thats here
Bed rot could be a thing
There is a need to release old habits desires and ego
Confide in a masculine figure in your life or a masculine figure sees your distress (Gender doesn't matter its all energy)
Protection is needed and maybe a nice cleanse, maybe a cedar bath?
Again seasonal depression is coming up lol
You could be either a pieces or one of the Air signs
Take pride in your appearance, in the card she has long flowing black hair and stunning eyes!! Piercings too? Specifically a left nose piercing
Over thinking/pondering lol
Possible past friends or connections have ended badly?
Opportunities will only open up when you open your eyes and see that what you choose to see in the world if what youll perceive and experience
Lord of the rings/DND/Elden Ring/LARPing?
Rams could be significant or Aries sign!!
Learn a new instrument!! Make more art but with your own style ? Maybe youre in a art achool that doesnt allow for much individuality? But being a proud ab your individuality here is important!!
Birds are an important sign here, look out for feathers, hawks or eagles!!
If youre indigenous/Native/Aboriginal you may be receiving an Eagle Feather from an elder or during ceremony?! What an honor oml
Willie Jack from reservation dogs Vibes !!
---Channeled Songs---
LVL up - David strickland, Drezus, Aspects, prognosis
This came on during writing the eagle feather bit a lyric that caught my attention was
"Been a problem, Still a problem
But problems are what you need to grow"
Runaway - Lil peep
"Everybody act like they care, Why the fuck do everybody act like they care"
When I'm Gone - Eminem
"Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling
And I didn't feel a thing,
So, baby, don't feel no pain
Just smile back"
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
PILE TWO
---Cards pulled---
The hermit/Knight of wands/8 of wands
---Clarification---
9 of cups/The Empress/Strength
Im getting like lost rebellion? And being unhealed and hurt inside from past trauma's specifically abandonment, neglect or betrayal from authority figures or those you had trusted
Feeling empty and misguided despite only trusting yourself, and no one seems to want to listen to your advice/experiences leading you to feel isolated and forgotten in a way?
Maybe you're a party animal, possible drinker and/or just popular/known in social settings
There is heavy overindulgence in emotionally fufilling things, specifically overspending and maybe other possible addictions (sleep, food, drugs etc)
Mother/Feminine figure is very important in your life
You look to them for approval of many things but they may have been not caring about your emotional needs or satisfaction rather they cared more about your hidden strengths and "beast inside" ?? Or even how "weak" they perceived you, they may have been disappointed at your strengths and abilities, n maybe they put you in some kind of martial arts or boxing despite your disinterest in it?
Quick to move on from situations!! Yet indecision and regret is coming through Strongly
Impatient with skills and talents that dont turm out they way you wanted so perfectionist type vibes
You are a clear communicator but tend to be rather impulsive with decisions or say one thing and do a completely different thing
Extreme harshness towards oneself and heavy judgement too :+(
Feeling exposed? Like all eyes are on you yet you dont want them
I feel a facade of confidence but there is true confidence coming through by the tiniest bit? yet it's heavily based on the feminine figures perspective in your life one with authority also your own perspective on yourself
Lots of self hatred and anger
Family oriented, getting protective yet detached energy tho
Cancer by my chemical romance came on so that song may be relevant?
---ORACLE/ADVICE---
Wise One "Grow within your current situation"
Mountains "Stand your ground"
Stargazer "Set your sights higher"
Direction guardian "Choose your path"
Owls maybe significant to you and other avians such as ravens
The wise one card depicts a woman with feathers in her gray hair, description of someone possibly?
Also a crescent moon is atop the owls head so maybe Athena or Greek mythology is important to you
I sense there was a lot of hardship in your life, ups and downs, peaks and valleys yet you choose to persevere and stay strong
I see you have may have been passed down a gift having to do with dreams, keep a journal and look into meanings of those dreams!! Also maybe astrology is something you love to look into or have an interest in ?
Although something is blocking this gift from its fullest potential i believe there is healing or a cycle to be closed off before youre allowed to fully tap into it !! It'll take time and work on your part
As of now you have many choices to make in many areas of life, youre heavily protected by your guides and loved ones, the direction guardian is depicted with a Seraphim as described by the hebrew prophet Ezekiel!!
Specifically in Ezekiel 28:11-19 is where the seraphim is described
You have choices, this card is to remind you that YOU have the power of your own path and direction
---Channeled Songs---
Cancer - MCR
"Baby I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go
It just ain't living
And I just hope you know
That if you say (if you say)
Good-bye today (good-bye today)
I'd ask you to be true (I'd ask you to be true)
'Cause the hardest part of this
Is leaving you"
No place to hide - Korn
"Some will look at the time I looked back into my life
You wanna touch me to see what's in my eyes
Why do you make me remember my hate, all this shame?
Don't you hate me? Sometimes"
I-E-A-I-A-I-O - SOAD
"Mine delusions acquainted,
Bubbles erotica,
Plutonium wedding rings,
Icicles stretching,
Bicycles, shoestrings,
One flag, flaggy but one,
Painting the paintings of the alive."
Although this seems like nonsense many fans believe its abbreviations or like code!! Soo...
M D E = Media and so on
The sentence comes together as:
"Media back-end power is bullshit, opposing force for the power of propaganda"
Stole this^^^ from genuis btw lmao
Theres the "lost rebel" part lol
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
PILE THREE
---Cards pulled---
2 of swords/The Chariot/10 of Wands
---Clarification---
Ace of Swords/Knave of Coins/6 of wands
I feel more a message for this pile? And i do apologize but it is quite shorter than the rest but I will try my best to deliver both tho
You seem to be a very balanced person with clear morals and judgement, you have an ability to see all shades of gray in a black and white world maybe you work in the justice system? Or are dealing with the justice system ?And this stresses you out greatly yet you maintain hope for all that you see and deal with even if you see repeating injustices to those around you
Maybe PTSD is a factor here too, overthinking your own trauma or others
Anyways despite your position here you choose this pile for a reason !! You offer people truth and often give closure to cycles that needed to end
With the 2 of coins tho i think there is some imbalance between what you can and cannot do ? If that makes sense, like you can heal others or give them justice but cannot do the same for yourself :+(
Anyways the message i sense from this pile is pretty straight forward, you are giving someone (or yourself!!) the chance or closure to heal once more and whatever you may be waiting for is coming in quite quick although I feel there may be someone who may come in to sabotage the whole thing so be careful about who you choose to reveal this information to
They may offer a trade of some sort?
A deal, hush money or simply intimidation
Up your protection and be aware of fake friends yet still remain hopeful about the outcome because i see it turning out in your favor
---ORACLE/ADVICE---
Snake "Shed old skin"
Protection Guardian "Drop your Shields"
Winter "Take care of your needs"
High Priestess "Harness mystic power"
Again straightforward, beware of fake Friends and deals with strings attached my advice here is to up your protection and stand your ground!!
Drop your gaurd with those who you KNOW you can trust, you may need ro let out some stresses and emotions? Because the card winter is all about needs and hibernation so sleep well, eat and take some time to relax !!
Also might be an indication that whatever this situation is it may have happened in the winter/colder months
While in this time of self care and healing strengthen your knowledge and strengths learn how to master them !!
Your dreams and own special psychic gifts are important and potent !! Use them for yourself at this moment in time use that healing energy for yourself
Have confidence in yourself and know and own your protection because again you are heavily protected at this time you will most likely know who to stay away from very soon
Follow you intuition and what it tells you !!
---Channeled Songs---
The bird and the worm - The Used
[Whispered Post-Chorus] "Don't tell on me, don't tell on me. No, don't you tell on me, please. It's okay, don't tell on me, please..."
I find it interesting that its not the actual audible lyrics but if you listen to the song this is what the whispers are saying so...take it as it resonates
Spiders - SOAD
"Approaching guiding light
Our shallow years in fright
Dreams are made, winding through my head"
Bad dreams might be significant to you? Please try to relax good things are coming !!
Mama - MCR
"You should have raised a baby girl
I should've been a better son
If you could coddle the infection
They can amputate at once
You should've been
I could have been a better son"
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Pile Four
---Cards pulled---
5 of cups/4 of wands/Knave of coins
---Clarification---
8 of wands/6 of cups/Knave of wands
I believe there currently is dissatisfaction with your love life or offers within love at this moment or even just impatiently waiting for your current partner/interest to "make a move"
There isnt a lot of hope or faith in the connection on your part but i do see this person is interested they just operate differently and have some concerns
Mostly having to do with being used for their material gain, name position and/or authority
They do see this connection quite successful but they hate being put on a pedestal, due to this they wont have the guts to come forward if they do!! It will most likely be impulsive or very confusing and indirect which might leave both of yous flustered mainly them
This might be over drinks because my face is warming up lol
They see you as the four of wands and 6 of cups what a wonderful pair of cards together!!
But they see your disappointment and or pulling away from their energy which is turning them off easily but they still have their eyes on you
They have no time to be a chaser or to be chased this person is quite serious in their relationships so dont play childish games, play stupid games and win stupid prizes right?
They have come to a decision on their own but its also up to them when this information is revealed to you directly
Also there seems to be a sort of distrust with relationships on either sides which needs to be addressed before hand
Communication maybe be an issue
---ORACLE/ADVICE---
Medicine Guardian "Be open to healing information"
Elder "Healing through lineage"
Peacekeeper "Harmonious resolution is possible"
Lady "enjoy growth a reap rewards"
I feel like time is needes to open up tp yourself and heal some issues on your side first, become the best possible version you can before you can move on with this
I see that this connection may heal cycles in your family and generational trauma possibly?
Its your job to keep cool despite the circumstances now and remember to mediate and that peace is always an option. Not every battle is worth fighting
However this goes you will be happy with what you see in the mirroe nonetheless!! Enjoy your hardwork and healed state
---Channeled Songs---
Fed Up - Ghostmane
"I'm fed up with the fame
I'm sick of reading my name in any other way than I intended
Fed up with all of these motherfuckers misunderstandin' me
I'm fed up with the ones that try to say you a fan of me
But then they turn their back and mothafuckers abandon me
You think I'm sitting high with everything, but now can't you see?
I'm livin' in reality, a struggle, not fantasy
I'm in a million-dollar couch, back then I was in a van"
No you girls - Franz Ferdinand
"Sometimes I say stupid things
But I think, well, I mean I
Sometimes I think the stupidest things
Because I never wonder
Oh, how the girl feels
Oh, how the girl feels"
Driven Under - Seether
"Must be something on your mind
Something lost for me to find
Do you know I'm faking?"
I feel this is more the distrust with their previous relationship possibly?
Also this lyric
"We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face
I need you, I breathe you
I can't go through this all again
We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face
I need you, I breathe you
I can't go through this"
Also pile 3 may have some messages?? I accidentally typed pile three for this one? :+//
-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
184 notes · View notes
anthurak · 29 days
Text
Takeaways from the Volume 9 Epilogue:
--
One thing I really like about Oscar’s ‘If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you…’ monologue is that it laid out/confirmed something I’ve always felt was a major aspect of Oscar’s dynamic with Ruby that I nonetheless feel a lot of the fandom has missed: That Oscar very much sees Ruby as a mentor and an example to follow, and how their dynamic is specifically a foil to what we saw between Ruby and Ozpin. That Ruby acts as a mentor and example to Oscar in the same way Ozpin was to Ruby, and that Ruby is a far BETTER mentor and example to Oscar than Ozpin ever was to her. Which, as an aside, is a dynamic I can’t help but feel a lot of people have been misinterpreting as ‘ship-teasing’ and is one of the main reasons I’ve simply never been able to see Oscar as any kind of viable love-interest to Ruby. Frankly the dynamic of ‘Ruby is the mentor and example to Oscar that Ozpin couldn’t be for her’ is simply so much more INTERESTING than any kind of romance could ever hope to be.
--
Even in animatic form, Winter basically going overdrive on the maiden powers was a sight to behold. And her own monologue had all the self-deprecation we were expecting. Our girl is clearly holding on by a thread and it’s going to be REAL interesting seeing how she reacts and adjusts to her sister not actually being dead. As in, I can imagine a situation where Winter tries to throw herself into a heroic sacrifice with the belief that Weiss would make a better Maiden than her.
Also, Winter’s monologue giving major focus to how Penny is super-super-dead-dead-and-definitely-not-coming-back-for-really-realsies, as she is talking to the sister who she ALSO believes is DEFINITELY also dead? Specifically with the words that Penny is gone, when Penny’s last words to her were that she’d be ‘part of you’?
Yeah, there is no way in hell we’ve seen the last of Penny XD
--
The CROWN. Like it was only a few shots, but as someone who read the CFVY Books (which you totally should if you haven’t, they’re great), holy shit I was NOT expecting them to pop up here.
I mean, in hindsight it makes perfect sense that they’d be involved in Volume 10. They’re basically Vacuo’s equivalent to Vale’s criminal element and the White Fang splinter faction as Salem’s co-opted insurgency group, with Jax and Gillian joining Roman, Adam and Jacques as the latest of Salem’s unwitting patsies. It’s definitely going to be real interesting seeing the crew deal with them. Like it’s really fun to imagine Team RWBY in particular being kind of exasperated at seeing Jax’s probably doing a whole ‘With Salem’s help I shall be King!’ shtick after everything they’ve seen with Roman, Adam and Jacques.
Oh and if you don’t know, Jax has a mind-control semblance, so him trying to use that on Yang could actually lead to a sneaky callback to the Justice League crossover, ie; Yang doing a ‘Yeah, I’m not doing THAT shit again.’ XD
--
Qrow’s whole vibe through this is fascinating. Like his section may have been the one we already saw, but after seeing the abject depression and growing despair of all the other characters, Qrow actually being OPTIMISTIC hit so much harder.
--
Raven showing up at the end is… interesting.
I’ll admit that ever since we saw that specific clip a few months back, I’ve been rather conflicts about Raven showing up to deliver RWBY+J to Vacuo, particularly after Ruby’s tree vision. Like for one it felt a bit random and unnecessary. The tree already deposited the Ever After team outside of Vacuo so they didn’t exactly need help getting there. Not to mention that it kind of clotheslines the story-thread set up by Ruby’s vision; that she now has a reason to track Raven down to get the ANSWERS to what happened to Summer. Finally, it’s just kind of… random? Like where did Raven even come from to get the team?
But now having seen the clip with its intended context, I’m definitely more on board with it. Particularly hearing from Kerry and Eddy that the original ending for the penultimate episode had RWBY+J going through the portal to arrive at their memorial stone, and met by a ‘Mysterious Figure’, ie; Raven. Here it feels like were getting more set up to get answers later as to what Raven was doing at the memorial.
And really, now that I’ve thought about it more, this method kind of puts the thread of Ruby going to Raven for answers even MORE into focus. Like the story reintroduces Raven in the present right after Ruby got a vision basically saying ‘hey, Raven is important’. And now going into Volume 10, we’re pretty much perfectly positioned for Ruby to pull Raven aside for those all-important ‘Why were you fucking my mom? What happened to my mom?’ questions.
--
Finally… yeah that ending hit me a LOT harder than I was expecting. Like that ending was HOPE in its purest form and it was honestly beautiful to see. Particularly right now with the future of the show seeming so uncertain. I’ve personally been optimistic about RWBY’s future (in a manner not unlike Qrow’s vibes I suppose lol), but damn the hopefulness of that ending hit especially hard, and was something I’ll admit I needed. And I imagine the rest of us could use as well.
We'll be getting Volume 10. And 11, and 12, and however many more it takes to finish this story. At this point, I have no doubt of that.
192 notes · View notes
swallowedbymadness · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
❅ no sound, it’s all around ❅
Tumblr media
Pairing: Seongwha x chubby!fem!reader
Genre: that good romantic smut that makes angels cry
Summary: No power, no heat, and you’re stuck inside during a blizzard. You definitely didn’t expect things between you and Seonghwa to heat up as quickly as they had that night.
Tumblr media
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Surpriseeee! Two fics in one week? Who is she. I have returned with another sexy love makin’ fic for your peepers. I present the prince himself, Park Seonghwa in all his glory. This one is very special to me. I was going to wait until Sunday to post it, but I was just too impatient to wait. So, you get it now as a little treat from me to you lovely babes. Listen to “Snow on the Beach” by Taylor Swift & Lana Del Rey for THEEEE VIBES. This fic is heavily inspired by it, aka I wrote this with it on repeat 💀 18+ content, so please, minors DNI. Enjoy! 🤍
Warnings: soft dom!Hwa, allllll the praise, a sprinkle of breath play, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting.
Proofread: Yes! Thank you to the phenomenal @babesindestroyland for reading over this for me. You know the drill. If you see a mistake, no you don’t. 😇
Tumblr media
White. It’s a color that represents purity, innocence, and perfection. You were surrounded by various shades of the color that night. The alabaster walls glowed and the silk sheets shimmered beneath the candlelight, while snow was silently beginning to stick to the bedroom window from the blizzard outside. The scene painted before you was simply picturesque as you both stood bare in front of one another, the shadows dancing across your bodies as your eyes spoke every confession of love that your tongues could not.
You weren’t sure how you and Seonghwa ended up here. Everything before this moment was now a blur. It was just the two of you, a quiet blizzard outside and your head was dizzy from the strawberries and champagne he had brought over just before the worst of the storm hit. The power had gone out not too long ago, the air within his apartment chilling slightly but not unbearable due to the fireplace burning brightly in the living room. You remember him feeding you a strawberry on the floor in front of the fire, the bubbles fizzing in your champagne flutes. You remember his eyes staring intently at your lips as they wrapped around the base of the summer fruit and how a bit of the rosy juice dripped down your chin. You weren’t embarrassed, but only because you saw his eyes watch it drip slowly down your skin before he took his thumb and wiped it off. You remember feeling a familiar flutter in your stomach as he popped his thumb in his mouth, humming to reassure you it was just as delicious coming off of you. You remember Seonghwa murmuring something before leaning in and connecting your mouths in a delicate kiss, his finger gently gripping your chin. You remember how his tongue tasted sweet like the champagne that glimmered in the firelight.
“It tastes better on your tongue,” he whispered into your ear, your earlobe soon being sucked between his teeth as he lightly nibbled on the cartilage. You remember sighing out loud and feeling the flush creeping onto your face when you heard him chuckle under his breath against your ear. “I wonder if you taste just as sweet.” You remember his lips moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin every now and then to hear the small whimpers leave your mouth as you felt the dampness of your arousal begin. His hand ran softly up your thigh, the floral dress you wore that evening giving him ample room to feel every part of you he wanted.
You remember tilting your head back as he placed sloppy open mouthed kisses against your throat, his hand ghosting over the area once he let go of your chin. You remember grabbing his face and allowing your tongue to slip into his mouth as you shared intimate kisses for awhile next to the warmth of the fire. You remember him breaking apart from you and standing up, his hand held out for you to take so he could pull you up. He never let go of your hand as he silently walked you into the Parisian inspired bedroom, and stood you in front of him at the foot of the king sized bed.
Now here you were with his hands falling to your shoulders, his fingers dipping underneath and encouraging the dainty fabric to fall from your body. You found yourself reaching over next to unbutton his crisp cotton shirt, his tan skin glowing in the candlelight. The pressed clothing fell to the carpeted floor, and eventually you did this until both of you were shed of everything. You remember his eyes, and if a man could get drunk off of sight alone, he would be so far gone. Everything about you made his heart pound aggressively within his rib cage. He let his fingers follow the curves of your body, feather light touches as he grazed the silky skin. You stood before one another for what seemed like an eternity to allow eachother to memorize every part of your bodies in the most vulnerable state they could be in.
“Hwa…” your voice came out no more than a whisper, your throat feeling like it was closing as you felt his eyes burn holes into your face.
“Yes,” it was more of an answer than a question, and you couldn’t recall what you wanted to say in that moment, because he didn’t give you time to think. He stepped toward you and had his hands roamining your body as his eyes never left yours.
“You’re beautiful,” your fingers were soon carding through his inky hair as you pushed it out of his eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” His expression remained neutral as he tried to figure out your feelings in the current moment.
“All of this. You wanting me, us standing here together as we are now...it seems impossible.” You allow the words to fall from your tongue, heart beating wildly beneath your breast. His eyes crinkled as his beaming grin lit up the whole room.
“And why is that?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes radiating the utmost fondness for you as you looked up at him.
“Seonghwa. Look at you. You’re like an angel, and I’m-” your eyes drifted to the floor between you two, insecurities from your past flooding into your thoughts. He was quick to bring you right back up to the surface to him, not allowing you to drown in that right now, not ever again.
“Weird,” your eyes narrowed, his teasing nature making your heart dance, and he released a breathy laugh. “But fuckin’ beautiful.” His lips were back on your neck, peppering kisses all the way to your chin before his lips hovered above yours. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed against your mouth, not wasting any time before he pulled your body against his and pressed his lips to yours feverently. He leaned you back against the milky silk sheets beneath you, goosebumps forming all over you as the cold fabric met your skin. His mouth was instantly back on you, his tongue mapping out a wet trail as he kissed down your collarbone to your shoulder, then down to your plump breast, his tongue drawing a circle around your nipple. He took the hardening bud into his mouth and gently sucked, eliciting a soft moan from you. You watched as his member began to swell and grow an angry shade of red as precum leaked from the tip. His mouth glided across your breast to give the same treatment to the other one, the warmth beginning to bloom in your core as you watched a string of precum stick to his stomach. He kissed his way past your navel and down to your core. Not wasting any time, he began his ministrations, his tongue causing waves of pleasure to move through your whole body, his hands griping your thighs as his nails dug into the plump flesh.
“You taste so divine,” he growled as he gave your clit kitten licks before running the entirety of his tongue between your folds and dipping it into your pussy. He hummed when he tasted you on him, your arousal driving him wild. He looked up at you from under his lashes, pressing rushed wet kisses to your sopping pussy. “Like angelic nectar straight from the heavens.” He pushed his tongue back into you, his fingers abusing your clit before his mouth went to work you up again. Whines poured from your mouth, your hand grabbing a fistful of his midnight hair. You began to grind yourself against his face, his nose rubbing your clit deliciously. “Angels wish they could taste you on their lips. But you’re mine,” he lifted himself up and on top of you, positioning himself at your entrance that ached to be full of Seonghwa. As if sharing the same thought as you, he slowly pushed his swollen member between your throbbing walls. A gasp fell from both of you, the fit filling you up wholly, completely. A feeling you didn’t think would send this much emotion rushing through you, igniting your blood and setting it on fire, brighter than the embers that sparked from the logs in the fireplace just outside of the bedroom walls.
“Oh, Hwa” you sighed as his hips began to push into yours, quick and sharp so he could feel you as much as possible. You lifted your leg and he hooked it around his hip to get deeper inside of you. When he felt the tell tale signs of you approaching your end, he was quick to pull out and flip you over onto your stomach. He came back over you and laid on top of you lightly, pushing himself back inside of you tentatively. You felt his hot breath against the shell of your ear, little grunts and moans hidden under them filled your head and made you dizzy. You felt his lips on the back of your neck, as his member slid in and out of you with intent.
“No mortal is worthy of you,” He spoke lowly as he wrapped his hand around your throat gently and squeezed lightly. “My goddess divine.” Spots danced in your vision as he took your breath away, your pussy no doubtedly coating his dick with your slick at the slight pressure. “You are ethereal.” He praised into your skin, his moans mixing with yours as he took his time thrusting in and out of your plush walls. He savored every second of it, like he was experiencing something so spiritual. “Scream my name to the gods so they know who your most devoted disciple is.” His thrust began to get sloppy and harder as he saw the little bit of spit dribble from the side of your mouth. “Tell them who.” He said through gritted teeth, sweat falling from his brow as he lost himself to the pleasure that was you. “I want you to see the very stars you fell from as you cum for me.” His hands were soon smacking down on both of your ass cheeks, gripping at the plump flesh, his eyes widening at how they jiggled underneath his sweaty palms.
“You Seonghwa, only you!” You shouted, your knuckles white as you gripped the slippery sheets, inaudible ramblings falling from your lips as his dick slammed into your g-spot. “Fuck! Hwa,” you screamed into the mattress as he fucked you right into it, plump tears staining your cheeks. You felt the build up in your core finally explode, the sheets soaking up your fluids as they poured out from the depths of your walls and coating his dick even more. That sent Seonghwa into a frenzy, his cock twitching as he felt himself unravel above you.
“Oh angel, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m-” You felt him spill into you as his pace slowed, allowing your rigid walls to pull his orgasm from him. He collapsed next to you, his flesh sticky and chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling. You rested your cheek on your forearm as you looked at him, adoration the only thing present in your irises currently. You placed a hand above his heart, the organ rattling under your palm.
“How long?” You questioned, not needed to say more for him to know what you were asking.
“When I saw your eyes shine like starlight under the first full moon of the summer. We were walking along the beach, nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the sand under our feet. You had a sparkler in your hand, skipping around like it was the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. When you looked at me, the grandest smile adorning your face…that was when I realized.” You felt the strings holding your heart in place snap as it fell to the pit of your stomach.
“You’ve felt this way for that long? Why didn’t you tell me?” A part of you felt upset that you’d gone that long without a confession being made. If only he had told you sooner…you couldn’t help feel like so much time had been wasted not together.
“I didn’t realize you felt the same way.” He stated simply. You groaned, hiding your face in your arm.
“How did you find out?” You peeked one eye above your arm, looking at him curiously. He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you. Ruined, but still glowing ever so radiantly. All because of him.
“Because,” he pulled you to his chest finally, a content sigh leaving him once the weight of you rested on him comfortably. “I saw the same fondness in your eyes that I knew I had in mine whenever I looked at you.” You didn’t dare question it, because you would never admit that you felt the same way for just as long as him. You knew in your heart exactly when you fell for Park Seonghwa.
He was nothing but a mysterious blur at first, but when your eyes came into focus and saw him for the very first time, it was like an angel descended from heaven that very night. The glow of the Christmas lights illuminated his soft features, his blinding smile enraptured you. The moment he said hello to you, you willingly handed your heart over to him. Little did he know, he’s had it in his hands this entire time.
“So, you love me?” He chuckled under his breath at the question, but he silently nodded.
“I am absolutely captivated by you.” He traced invisible patterns into your back, his eyes drooping shut as his voice became thick with exhaustion. “Always have been. And I always will be.” He pressed a delicate kiss to your hairline before falling gracefully into unconsciousness, his chest beginning to rise and fall at a steady pace. You laid there and watched as the snow fell silently outside. As each flake swirled in the midnight air, you reveled in the fact that your love for one another was like the frozen crystals that danced with one another.
It came down, no sound, and it was all around.
437 notes · View notes
aristia-pjoheadcanons · 4 months
Text
Percy is pretty scary when he's mad
->masterlist
not because of his powers or because hes a child of the big three, but because of his voice. his voice is steady and normal for a guy that has gone (and still is, somewhat) through puberty, it's deep and gravelly, it can be soft and just normal...y'know?
but when he gets angry you can really tell. you can't just hear his voice becoming hard, slow and serious - but his voice drops and starts to go down. Its not sudden, its slow
and there it is, hes angry and through this process of his voice dropping and dropping as he slowly speaks, he makes eye contact - making it clear that he isn't trying messing around or make a sarcastic comment. but the scariest thing is that he is so awfully calm too.
usually people might expect him to be very loud and have a "booming" voice, but thats only during battle. on a regular basis if he gets angry you can really feel the calm before the storm, the rage, the pent-up anger,
i feel like he was seen as a rival and an enemy, because he doesnt know when to stop. as he ages and his power only grows, he's just going to have a difficult time to control his emotions + powers. we see this at the end of in the house of hades* with misery's poison, but also later in chalice of the gods (even though most people brush it off, i would like to point out that the wave we see came from his anger because he exploded)
i feel like percy has somewhat hooded eyes, and when he lowers his chin to stare at someone, it looks like a really intimidating glare. his green eyes and dark eyebrows dont make it better, when his whole entire aesthetic is somewhat muted. he has a dark vibe to him because he looks like a stereotypical troublemaker, but also because you can tell he has experience with fighting.
like theres a certain air around him that tells us that he would if he could. percy's voice is a powerful tool.
308 notes · View notes