𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

34 || The Untimate Temptation

Edited: 21.11.2022

Writing this gave me 🦋's

Song: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Giana

I'm convinced my self care routines are the only constants in my life.

People come and go, trends die out, things eventually break. But my three forms of self care? Those are set in stone, the only constant in this fleeting life, a constant that elicits the emotions that keep me sane.

Like the sense of fulfillment that comes from my skincare routine after I've applied all my expensive creams. The feeling of extreme pleasure that comes from my self inflicted self care routine. And then there's the validation that comes from my social media routine, one that consists of sharing pictures of myself to all my followers.

The key to maintaining mental stability has come down to these three needs. And when they aren't being fulfilled, my life goes to shit.

Tonight was the start of said life going to shit. And there was only one person to blame, Alessio Galanti.

It'd all started when I rain myself a bath after a long stressful day.

I'd begun my routine with applying a face mask. I'd then slipped into the oversized tub with only the dim lights of a few candles and scents of a lavender so sweet, it'd put me in a divine enough mood to carry on with the second ritual in my self care routine.

The one where I derived my own pleasure.

I tried and nearly succeeded in bringing myself to an orgasm much like the first one I'd inflicted upon myself, but failed. It was as though my own hands weren't good enough, not when my body had gotten a taste of true pleasure at the hands of a hot headed Italian.

Nothing compared to Alessio's touch, my own included.

It was like a bucket of a cold water infused with aggravation was poured atop me and it'd frustrated me to the point where I'd rinsed myself off and desperately tried to cling onto the third step in my self care routine to bring me a sense of comfort.

I hid one my newest editions to my lingerie set beneath a short silk robe, tied the front loose enough to hint at my cleavage and posed infront of the large mirror in my closet, using my vanity chair as a prop to hide a good chunk of my body.

The photo was the perfect mix of sexy, yet reserved enough to leave room for imagination. It was the riskiest thing I'd ever taken a picture of myself in, but like I'd said, I needed to overcompensate.

And when I'd been satisfied with my pictures, I took to social media, only to find all of my accounts privatized and my followers dwindled down to strictly people from school.

I could see nothing but red as I stormed out of my room and down to the security room where a terrified Alexi fumbled out the truth, saying he was doing so under direct orders from his superior.

He didn't have to say who he was talking about. I knew and the knowledge had me seething. So much so, that by the time I'd gotten to the doors of Alessio's study, I stopped and took a moment to plot how I was going to lose my shit.