#If you have any ideas how I could improve on this! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

generationlosscorkboard · 10 months

Text

What exactly is Showfall?

Sooooo, Showfall. Lets Discuss that.

We all know and "love" Showfall, don't we? It's such a major part of the story of Gen Loss so far, so I'm sure a lot of theories are cropping up centering around it and it's total control and domination of the world of Gen Loss.

And Whilst I'm not saying they're wrong, I'm not saying it's entirely right either.

Long post. So.

Showfall

From what we know, the future Gen Loss content won't contain as much of Showfall as we've had so far, so I feel it's somewhat obvious they aren't the entire being of whatever is putting the dis- in this -topia. Rather, judging from their clear commercialisation and public visibility, they are the face of the operation. They're the propaganda, the entertainment, that side of things.

If you know the book 1984, there's a really good omparison within it to my own idea of what Showfall stands for. This being, the Telescreen. If you don't quite get it or don't know 1984, I'll explain. The comparison of the Telescreen suggest that Showfall is just the Media, the control of perception, and the thing you watch that watches back. Everpresent, brainwashing, and the only source of information you have about the outside world.

Showfall has quite clearly demonstrated all of these aspects with it's control over perception of reality and how, (currently) they're the only view we have into this world because they're the only media of it (apart from some Ranmail stuff here and there) that we have a "solid" perception of what it's like. I have solid in quotation marks because AHAHAH it's um. Certainly. Stylised. Shall we say.

But in the world of 1984, it's not the telescreen who's in charge. So, I don't think Showfall is the head honcho either. Someone (or rather some Company, most likely) is behind it all, and Showfall is just doing all of the publication media stuff to make it work.

But they also perform Social Experiments, on its Cast and its audience. Which is. Odd. For a thing that's supposed to be (as far as I can tell) what is essentially crowd control before a crowd even forms, its such a strange thing to be doing. A lot of freedom with their media and toying with their audience. Which leads me to my next lot of discussion.

The Social Experiments

Why are they necessary, or at the very least, why are they being done? Social Experiments, by definition, are to investigate the actions/reactions of people when given a situation. So, who would need to do that?

If we wanna go down deep into the sci-fi dystopian route, it could be anything from Aliens, to Robots, to some kind of Artificial intelligence, or otherworldly being. Other dimension, even. But. I don't think so. At the very least, I'm not entirely convinced that this is the route we are taking. Mayyyybeee AI/robots? It would fit in with some of the details I'll bring up later on in this post, but I feel like there's probably still room for a very disconnected humanity to be behind it all.

As long as I'll get to stab the founder with a knife I'm happy with whatever they are.

For now, let stick with the assumption that they're just human. It's worse (in a good-ish way) when they're human in my opinion anyhow.

The Social Experiments were broadcast as a "new live show experience" so currently it's not exactly common place. Is it a study of the people of the world? Or is it just a maniacal show of power? Are they toying with us? Or testing us? Are they doing it to distract us from something else? To keep us glued to our seats as we try to figure a predetermined mystery whilst they slowly do something elsewhere that would otherwise gain a lot of backlash? Or are they simply doing it as a demonstration of their abilities, their control over reality and perception and how there is nothing we can do but keep watching?

There's a lot of potential reasons behind all of this, I'll tell you. I can't currently stick one thing down and say "this is it!" Because we don't quite yet have all the pieces. I'll likely reference this a lot in the future as more Gen Loss content comes out and more theories are made. But, even though I said above that I believe Showfall isn't the top, it's quite clear they have a lot of freedom with what they do and say, so some of the theories are certainly weighted in their favor by that.

The Mall

Also- why a mall? Don't get me wrong, it's cool and all, but when you supposedly have all of society at your beck and call, why would you have to use a mall and make everything you do and create out of what's left? What's stopping you from owning actual studios and such? The only logical reasons I can think of is either they don't have that far of a reach and just pretend they do to a limited population, or. Those places just straight up don't exist anymore. Like, something REALLY big happened.

So. What I'm saying is either this is veryyyy localised (mostly likely in a place called Lostfield, seeing as Gen Zero is the Lostfield incident.) Or its insanely big scale but to the point of there not being much left of anything at all, and that's why they're having to live off of the scraps of an abandoned mall.

It could go either way, there's a lot of evidence for both.

Continuing onwards-

The Masks

Every Showfall employee wears a mask, but that's not all. The emmployees are completely different from humans, though the blurring of what is and isn't reality does make it difficult to tell wether they got just blood, just wires, or some ghastly mix of the two really hard to tell. Also, the guy who told us they aren't human anymore turned out to also be Showfall, and an absolute liar when it comes to the truth as to what was happening. So. Take everything we know with a grain of salt as I continue this.

Though it does look a lot like enslavement of the human mind, either way. So showfall does not give a damn about its employees, in the most twisted sense of removing individuality and emotion, basically making programmed robots out of flesh and blood.

(If you wanna think about something really f'd up, it's entirely possible that the crew members are also reused from the mall. As in. Shoppers. (Wether changed alive or dead is unknown, but.... yeah))

The only person in Showfall that shows a high degree of control over themselves whilst wearing mask is Hetch. (and I suppose Ranboo? But remember my prior theory on his own mask, and the lack of actual control there.) Hetch is initially posed as the attempting rescuer of Ranboo, likely just wearing the mask to conceal his identity from Showfall and prevent them from finding him. Also- it's simply HackerCore. Slay!

But of course, as we all know, he's in fact part of the Showfall crew, and clearly has some degree of hierarchy due to how free his speech is, dispite obviously being very supportive of Showfall. So. Is he controlled? (and if so, by whom?) Or is he simply part of the great machinations of what makes Showfall Showfall and is just actually that Sick? But feels like wearing a mask bc again, slay! Or even just to play a character in his own show (haha how meta!)

I'm leaningggg more to the side of being controlled? But tbh I kinda do like the idea of him just genuinely being apart of Showfall's control.

Other note! The CEO guy who appeared in the Announcement video doesn't wear a mask. So, control likely doesn't reach all the way to the top.

Of course. A lot of the Cast in Episode 2 doesn't wear masks, but we all saw what happened to Sneeg. So. Take being maskless with a grain of salt.

"Approximation"

This is in reference to the Hetch quote of "this is an approximation of an office". So. Showfall, or what is above Showfall doesn't know what an office environment is like outside of set decoration and basic premises you might see in a film or show. Very interesting. Again, salt your thoughts, cause this was Hetch again, but it's such an important detail to note.

This, combined with the whole lack of care of humanity from the masks does make the Big O theory lean more towards Ai/robots/aliens/the stuff I mentioned before, but again it could still be a very disconnected humanity (with little regard for other humans for a variety of possible reasons) behind all this. Maybe the world has been in shambles for so long all they have left to remember what humanity was like was reruns of the Office and various other Sitcoms. Guh, imagine that.

Regardless, it's important that we understand that whatever is going on isnt so casual, and is either really apocalyptic, or really, really disconnected from the rest of reality. The guys in charge (the GICs. Let's call them the GICs) were literally living under a rock and then decided to take over the world I guess lmao. Goals!

Time inconsistency

This one has been kicking me in the butt quite a bit I'll tell ya-

Is this set in 2024 or the 1990s?

A lot of people seem to be vibing with the 90s idea, basing it on The idea that the asthetic of it all, from Ranboo's costuming to the use of VCR and video tapes, means its set before the big time.

I beg to differ.

For one, on the notice board in the Office (as seen on the Behind the Scenes Twitter page) has a time off request form which is dated for 2024. Now, this could be a prop/set error, and wasn't intended to be seen close up except on a behind the scenes Twitter post, which is supposed to be just BTS and not canon, but I'm putting my faith in the prop/set guys. The year is 2024. This is also backed up by the quality of technology they have, from the really modern flat screens tvs on the Box Wall, to the fact they're Tony Starking mind control from Mall leftovers. Also- wire monster? Modern (or really close to) Mall? Yeah.

Also USB flash/thumb drives were only invented for commercial use in the year 2000, so.

But Zero! I hear you say. Why is the mysterious figure recording on VHS! When supposedly they could just download it or screen record or something if it's so futuristic in the far off year of 2024????

Because 1. VHS are cool if you like to be vintage 2. VHS are physical copies of the media, rather than digital copies that could potentially be accessed or at least seen by the GICs if they're anywhere as socially powerful as we think they are. And 3. It's like the oldest trope of a conspiracy theorist in the book! Storing your files on physical and/or outdated technology bc of the above reasons.

Although this could totally be a matrix situation in which everyone THINKS its the 90s. But it's not, it's actually 2024 and everyone is just a slave to the control of the GICs. I doubt it, but I'm putting it on the table.

Branding

Showfall? Did it get up okay?

Jokes aside, what in the blazes does the name Showfall mean. My first impressions are the following: Showfall sounds like Snowfall, Showfall implies it's gonna fail (fall from glory, that sorta thing), it's very Showy, and it's somehow the exact sort of Corporate Name I would expect to hear from a big corporation.

This is not a hate on Ranboo's naming conventions, I just wanna know WHY cause I'm sure it's interesting and plot relevant. Eee.

Another branding thing of note is the Gen loss four/GL symbol. It was purposely integrated into the design of Showfall's Logo by Ranboo. I'm still unclear as to whether the 4 is the logo of the GICs or of those who seek the truth behind it all, but I'm currently leaning towards the former, with how prominent it's been in their branding and such. Course, I'm open to anything. It could just be that Ranboo wanted it as a meta hint, with the GL or the name Generation Loss not actually meaning anything in universe but it's there for us to see and go "hey look it's the GL four! Neat!", but I feel like it will have something of lore interest. I just don't know what yet.

Extras things:

- We've seen it's CEO, it's head of operations. If Showfall was the big guy of the entire story and part of our goal as the viewers is to "Find/Kill the founder" then. Well. Wouldn't that be him? Lmao no if only it were that easy, we could of stabbed him ages ago. No, the founder is not Showfall. The founder... is not related to this atm so I will leave that to a different theory.

- Another note: I was talking to my mum the other day about Gen Loss (only vaguely, she's not a horror fan, so no mentions of live crucifixtions for her), and she compared what I was saying about a dystopian society based around control and what you see not necessarily being true, breaking free of that and seeing reality for what it is, all that suff... to The Matrix. So. Take that as you will.

#gen loss #generation loss #tangled tape #red pin with extra string #generation loss theory #zero thoughts #im so sorry this took so long to come out #I just was struggling to write it #you know how it is #i probably could of had even more to say but i dont have them currently and i just wanted to get this out for you all #so enjoy! hopefully my theorist skills will improve as we go #you're welcome to add on any of your own thoughts theories or ideas #I'd love to hear them!

8 notes · View notes

doodlebeeberry · 1 year

Text

Sometimes I think about how writing is received by the osc, particularly in comparison to art itself, and while I get that the community is for obvious reasons very visually driven, I feel like writing as a creative form just. Isn’t given as much credence. And I don’t mean this in a ‘pitting art/animation and writing against eachother’ kind of way, or in a ‘folks don’t care about/pay attention to the writing of a show’ way—both art and writing are important but different, and folks talk about good vs bad writing in shows all the time, at least. Rather, i think if your someone who buy n large just writes, your work is much more likely to be passed over, particularly if you don’t really write much fanfic. Folks just aren’t interested. Which is kind of a shame, honestly! It can be tricky sometimes to adapt objects to more literary storytelling forms, but imo it’s a fun challenge, not to mention that it opens the door to all sorts of different tools and angle you can use to tell your story. Not to mention that it can be more accessible than digital art and animation for some folks. Like. I want a novelized object show. Or something consistent of letters or news articles or an anthology of poems. I wish more regard wasn’t given to just writing is all, particularly in regards to original/non-fanfic writing

#not entirely sure how to phrase this thought #but it’s like. I’ve seen folks have really neat object show/story ideas but not make em cause they lack art skills and it’s like #(or they feel they lack art skills rather but still)#no!!! please don’t let that scare you off!!! write it!!! wrangle a team of writers the same way you’d wrangle a team of artists for a show!!#we need an osc literary mag Stat.#also YES I am super biased given that I think of myself as a writer first but still #also I think writing in shows could improve overall if folks treated it as it’s own thing worthy of respect n exploration #for lack of better phrasing idk #but that’s more teathered to the thoughts that shows should go hog wild more. get into it when you have a weird idea don’t be scared of it #don’t just nudge it in there a bit PUSH IT IN THERE!!! jump in the deep end go nuts!!! you can always pull back if you need to!!!#rambles #honestly I think much of this is just a #microcosm regarding how online communities tend to treat writing vs art from my observation? in part because most big platforms aren’t made #for it so writing-centric aspects of a community have to crop up on other sites instead #if that makes sense #if ANY of this made sense actually #osc

12 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months

Text

no, More active effort, More conscious consideration

#boo we HATE your [the implicit perspective that anything taking less effort / less thought is Good / an Improvement]#and it's like Getting Good at anything. Some element does become easier to navigate successfully?#great so now you can forever move on to devoting more conscious effort to Another element / really further evolutions of the same process #build on whatever understanding. if you realize something you thought was Correct seems not to be?#congratulations: it was inaccurate / too limited all along but now You know that. Better #thinking about [effort] thinking about [communication] means emitting a psychic blast doing all the Languaging of honing ideas #and b/c interactions are two way streets you get no guarantee anyone will listen / put effort into considering what they're picking up #it's a delight when someone Does happen to feel you're worth effort but everyone could be doing that on principle. they are not lol.#some actually not [jfc] comment on an akd interview like #they speak w/such precision they're used to not being listened to or understood like #well we'd have to ask them ofc but i won't even argue w/that concept lol #having One Chance To Get A Word In Ever like but you don't really when ppl misunderstand you which is an inevitability #and then made more likely by any number of factors. including not considering you worth the effort of Trying to understand #if they misinterpreted what you're conveying no they didn't; that's just What You Meant. double empathy style #gotta be out here figuring out The Approach when the outlier is ppl who do Not [only think you're worth effort as An Obstacle]#alleging how when you like urself you will now Earn Friends like the more i respect myself the more idc if i'm Interpersonally Beliked #the interpersonal relationship that Is guaranteed relevant of ''we're both people in the world & so already in relation in just that way''#i love to Socialize by being in public ''alone'' like clearly no i'm not & like getting to take up my bit of space / do my bit of a thing #while this fits into everyone else also having their presence; doing their thing; is >>>>> being with a group as its nth wheel for no reaso #the effort of what communication works w/what person in what situation #the effort of what navigation of the inherent mutual effect of your sharing [whatever System (like; physics style)] works out best / better #when ppl imagining this are still limiting it to Certain Interactions b/w everyone anytime as the ''ideal''....#sesame street was out here like. sometimes there's people wanting to be alone / who are ''unfriendly'' & they're still part of things #once again it's like kermit thee frog knows what's up. mister macabee old timey barkeep what should i do #furiosa as well lmao i should watch fury road again. i can sense it #you can't have much of a chitchat with her. and yet

3 notes · View notes

stillfruit · 1 year

Text

why do business majors feel the need to lick the ass of every company they do a presentation on for class. they’re not gonna fuck you

#this is so alien to me i'm so used to ppl having critical thinking skills and then here these ppl come and unironically start their #presentation on how pepsico could improve upon their global value chains by using their slogan #and overall the tone everyone assumes is always 'this company x is doing so much already and we want to make them even better xoxo'#and i'm like? they're not? what the fuck are you talking about even EVEN if they were they're not gonna hire you for saying that in class #ig if you're used to getting info through statements of ceos or whatever and never reading any articles ever you just get used to that kind #of presentation where you're always selling something even if you don't realize you're doing that #this is an environment where saying ikea is fast furniture is somehow a revolutionary idea truly a hellscape #if i didn't have other classes i would actually go insane #shit talking

5 notes · View notes

chaotic-history · 1 year

Text

I will die on this hill

#cause the whole thing in Candide is he's arguing against Leibnitz who's saying it's the best of all possible worlds and that everything #that happens happens for an eventually good reason #and Voltaire's not just arguing that everything is terrible; for all that he's smarter than Pangloss Martin is still wrong about Cacambo #coming back.#and Martin's idea was that there's a Good god and a Bad god that control everything #but Candide (book not character) shows that things like the Lisbon earthquake or good men drowning simply don't have a reason; good or bad #things happen essentially randomly and there's no order to it #*but*#(and this is moving away from the absurdism point but I want to talk about it)#despite all the random uncontrollable things Candide faces there's also much that's manmade #and I've seen some interpretations of the book that seem to thing the ending is saying to just escape from the world and don't bother #with trying to change it but I don't think that's the point because first of all obviously Voltaire didn't think it was useless to try and #change things or he wouldn't have written the fucking book; and also Martin and Pangloss share the similarity of believing that #any attempt to better the world is pointless because Pangloss thinks it couldn't get any better and Martin. well. also thinks that but in a #negative way #and the way I see it the book is as much a critique of fatalism as it is of Leibnitz's optimism #and really those are one and the same; if this is the best world it means nothing can ever improve and we're stuck in this pile of shit #tldr; shit happens for no reason; ya can't fix it but at least you could make it a bit better for the people around you; and you might as #well enjoy some pistachios while you're doing it #guys i promise i do know how to write actual literary analysis and someday i'll post it #but it's easier to just rant in the tags for 5 minutes #also jacques and the old woman both fundamentally changed the story through being willing to help candide + pangloss/cunégonde

4 notes · View notes

an1malcannibal · 1 year

Text

Bluestars prophecy has got to be one of the biggest missed opportunities in warrior cat’s history. I find bluestars story to be one of the saddest and most impactful of all the characters and I rlly think that book is a textbook example for warrior cats. Proposes a gazillion very interesting concepts and doesn’t explore ANY of them.

#specifically I think that they should have done more w like #idk how special mosskit was to her because she looked like her sister #make the loss much more impactful #bluestar has a very serious I have to push through everything demeanor and that’s what got her baby killed #very tragic #also I like oakheart!!!!#I think they could have done much more with them he’s such a chill kind goofball charmer I love the idea that he’s a comforting refuge #from the extreme stress of her daily life #like idk water will destroy you prophecy then you fall in love with someone who knows how to tread water and swim but he also IS water #idk maybe they could have done more with her fear of water and then falling in love and sending her kits to the fucking water clan!!!!#it’s interesting!#but one of the main things I think would improve it overall #I’d change it so that bluefur is wary and hating on thistleclaw as usual #freaking out abt thistleclaw maybe being deputy #but spottedpaw confides in her what thistleclaw did to her #and bluefur now not only knows that he cannot become deputy under any circumstances #BUT ALSO. HER CHILDREN ARENT SAFE #I’d add scenes of thistle hanging around the nursery and bluefur losing sleep because she’s keeping watch #we could’ve had a very interesting story fellas it’s a shame the writers are completely incompetent #warrior cats #warriors #we #bluestar #bluestars prophecy

2 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 1 month

Text

Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader

After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut

Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress

Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing.

He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave.

He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, instantly seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it.

So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance.

His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be.

You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration.

“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him.

He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back.

He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon.

It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in.

He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life.

Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite.

He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers.

He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp.

His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs.

He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him.

He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?”

“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby.

“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together.

He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it.

The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop.

You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip.

He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach.

He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours.

He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-

“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?”

He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on.

You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress.

Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just.

He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you.

The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…

The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin.

They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you.

He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation.

You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you.

You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal.

He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”

You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention.

He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need.

He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air.

He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it.

Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him.

You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around you to sandwich your clit between them.

He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out.

“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in.

You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.

“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.”

You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow.

He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before.

You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him.

When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his.

He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?”

You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.”

“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you.

“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?”

“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.”

You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock.

“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself.

You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips.

“Tell me then.”

“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.”

He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward.

He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love.

That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming.

His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love you, to fuck you, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks.

He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you.

“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you.

“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life.

You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants.

He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him.

An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him.

“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”

You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”

“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”

Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a jolt of desire surges through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick.

“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him.

This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.

He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does.

You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm.

He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky.

“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together.

He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”

You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold.

“Good, I feel the same way.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?”

“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”

AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

guxciestone · 4 months

Text

🌾 ❛ THE MOON AND YOUR DESIRED ROUTINE ༉‧₊˚ ˚୨୧

(through the signs)

🌳✧

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

hey guys. this post is about the moon and the type of routine that you may prefer based on the sign that lands in it. i hope you enjoy the post! ♡🌿

if you have any tarot or astrology post suggestions, i’d be more than willing to consider them. just drop your suggestions in my asks or in my post notes :)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

— the moon and its meaning ꕥ

The moon is the planet of emotions, your internal world, where you find personal comfort, and where you find inner fulfillment. However, others tend to forget that the moon is a feminine and nocturnal planet that also rules patterns, cycles, and flow states. In a female’s chart, it rules over her menstrual cycle, her emotional flow throughout the month, and her inner states throughout the 28-day cycle; in a male’s chart, it rules over his emotional health and character as well as his inner child in a vulnerable and instinctual sense. Furthermore, in general, the moon could also indicate the routines and “personal flow” that one strives for daily to achieve comfort and satisfaction. Today, I am going to analyze what type of routine you prefer based on the sign your moon is placed in.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in aries˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Aries seek spontaneousness, thrills, leadership, and independence in their daily life and routines. They are particularly comfortable being constantly being on the move, hoping to discover a new venture, or taking on a new challenge. They wake up every morning with the intention of reflecting on what new battle they can fight today. Furthermore, they are one of the signs who are more comfortable with managing sporadic and unorganized schedules because they initiate a new project every other day. It is assured they do not get overwhelmed easily, but they could easily become explosive or impulsive in their actions or feelings when stressed or things do not go according to plan. These individuals could get very impatient as well, striving to get things done in a short amount of time; this could be particularly overwhelming for others and burdening for them in the long run. They often struggle to stay focused on a venture due to their hastiness and tendency to lose interest easily. They should learn how to start projects, manage them, and finish them victoriously; plus, learn how to be patient and take their time, so their ideas can successfully manifest in what they expected from the beginning. Additionally, individuals with Moon in Aries are self-interested. They prefer spending time on activities, hobbies, or endeavors that they could benefit or improve from. Not to mention, they are risk-takers. These individuals seek fulfillment from new experiences and circumstances because it gives excitement and stimulation.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in taurus ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Taurus seek comfort, security, and stability in their daily life and routines. They often are satisfied with an unsurprising and easy-going routine–not too sporadic or unpredictable like Aries Moons. They seek calm and quietness in their life with not much stress. It is particularly easier for these individuals to get overwhelmed–especially over an unexpected task added to their schedule. You will often notice that these people strive for financial stability in their personal goals because they know that it will give them the material comfort they hope to have. Furthermore, they are more inclined to do self-care and relaxation practices as it gives them a sense of self-esteem and levelheadness–they especially need it after a long day at work or school. Additionally, Moon in Taurus individuals prefer to take their life in getting their errands done, and they dislike being rushed. They may struggle with changing their routine or daily activities for any person or circumstance because it is what is appropriate for them. They should learn how to modify their schedule for important events and relationships.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in gemini ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Gemini seek learning, socialization, activity, and communication in their daily life and routine. These people are often striving to mentally challenge themselves and find ways to stimulate themselves all the time. That is why you will often find these individuals with chaotic and packed schedules, or they seem to always be occupied–it is because they are always hoping to learn something new, access their creativity and skill, or challenge their brain. They would like to spend their time playing puzzles, word searches, reading, or debating with certain groups. Furthermore, these folks are extremely social and always wanting to connect with their peers; they might seek to find time in the day to meet up with their friends. Additionally, they have the tendency of wanting to do everything they want to do all at once–and they can often get very disorganized and ungrounded while doing so. It is important for people with Moon in Gemini to learn how to take things slow and collect their thoughts and plans before everything turns into a mess.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in cancer ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Cancer seek comfort, security, emotional counsel, and familial connections in their daily life and routine. These people could adore spending time with their family members or their close loved ones immensely; they are the types to consider their cousins or siblings their true friends and desire to do everything with them. They could more than likely desire to spend time at home, and perhaps may prefer to work from home too. Additionally, with a person who has Moon in Cancer– you could find that mostly everything on their daily to-do list consists of errands they need to do surrounding the house (such as doing laundry, cleaning their room, etc.) They might also like taking care of people. It is integral for cancer moons to have a schedule in which they can feel safe and comfortable doing, especially in a sense where it is not far from home or their close connections. However, these people could easily become homesick or struggle to adhere to changes or circumstances far from their safe spot.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in leo ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Leo seek entertainment, creativity, and recognition in their daily life and routines. These people strongly value and prioritize their inner child and their ability to artistically express themselves. They could be particularly interested in the arts, music, performing, acting, or anything in which they can demonstrate themselves and their character in an inspiring way. These folks hope to find fun and excitement in their life through their hobbies and passions. In other words, these people do not function well in routines in which they do not have creative freedom or the time to indulge in their childish endeavors. Furthermore, Leo moons are generous and kind at heart. They are more than likely to be able to handle children for long periods of time; in fact, they could adore implementing kids into their daily routine. Additionally, they prefer to connect with others and spend time with loved ones in circumstances in which they can lead them by example. However, these individuals could instantly turn bratty or spoiled when things do not go their way. If their day seems to be going terrible, it is easy for them to become explosive or stubborn. Leo moons should learn to be more selfless when it comes to compromising their plans and endeavors within the day sometimes.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in virgo ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Virgo seek discipline, order, and practicality in their daily life and routines. They are the type of people to plan their entire day on a to-do list or structure it from start to finish. Furthermore, they value productivity and making good use of themselves and their time. So, you will usually see them working on a particular project, improving themselves in some way, or investing their time into developing a special skill. These folks prefer a system in their day-to-day activities, or otherwise, they’ll feel out of control with themselves. Although these people are particularly able to change their routines and create an entirely new structure, they prefer to keep things predictable–especially when it comes to dedicating themselves to specific future aspirations and ventures. One thing about them is that they will always work on their craft, one way or another. Additionally, virgo moons can also value cleanliness in their physical environment. It is easy for their mood to change if their environment isn’t aligned with their mindset, so they could prioritize cleaning their area and making sure every item is in the right place. However, they often have tendencies of being a control freak–expecting things to go the exact way they planned or trying to handle anything or anyone that disrupts their plans. This placement is also known for its perfectionism. These individuals need to work on their excessive need for things to be 100% flawless; it could easily lead them to stress and low self-esteem, making them believe that everything they do is wrong and that they need to reach up to their extremely high expectations. In other words, virgo moons need to learn how to calm down and accept that things can be imperfect and that they can make mistakes or “fail”.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in libra ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Libra seek peace, balance, and beauty in their daily life and routines. These people often strive for a clear and collected mind space; they hope to eliminate any conflict, confrontations, or issues in their life. They would often try to stabilize themselves through acts of meditation, self-care, socializing, or cleaning. Furthermore, these people often strive to romanticize their lives; it allows them to enjoy their circumstances better through the acts of art, beauty, reflection, and creativity. They adore investing in makeup, fashion, painting, music, and other pleasurable things. Additionally, they are one of the most social moon signs; they thrive when they interact with their interpersonal relationships. It makes them feel connected and close to the important people in their lives. One thing about Libra Moons is that they often try to go far to avoid conflicts, even if it is something they need to confront or take accountability for. This can often make them appear a bit indifferent or distant in times of disagreements and discordance. However, shoving issues into the backburner will not solve anything–they need to learn to confront conflicts and problems and handle them maturely.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in scorpio ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Scorpio seek privacy, intimacy, depth, and intensity in their daily life and routines. First and foremost, these people often prefer to undergo their errands and plans under the radar–they do not feel particularly comfortable with anyone knowing their next move. That is why you’ll often see that these folks do not post often on social media, or they dislike telling people what their plans are for the day. There could be an undertone of paranoia in why they choose not to do so. They just value their intimate space and refuse to let any outside energies intervene with it. So, they need secrecy more than anything. Furthermore, when it comes to activities, they also would like to do them with people who they hold very close–similar to Moon in Cancer–but they are more reserved and strict about it. When they are in a relationship, you’ll find that they would want to spend most of the time with their partner. It can almost get obsessive. It is important for these people to learn to not become obsessive with their loved ones or partners–to let go and learn independence in their quality time.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in sagittarius ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Sagittarius seek excitement, new experiences, and diversity in their daily life and routines. One thing about these folks is that they are always striving to be on the move–similar to their fire counterparts. They are always on the move for the next huge and exhilarating thing. You’ll find that these individuals desire to travel, go to parties, spend time with friends, or meet new people. However, they are also very intelligent and have a will to learn–so they also hope to gain a new perspective from these experiences and circumstances. These people might dedicate a certain time of the day to learning about a topic, investing in a religion, or studying a course. It is integral for these people to have a routine that gives them a new learning experience or something to have faith about; otherwise, these individuals could become hopeless or pessimistic. However, it is easy for these people to become overindulgent or lazy–not being considerate about the consequences or their future. There needs to be a balance between fun and seriousness.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in capricorn ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Capricorn seek achievement, structure, and influence in daily life and routines. Similar to virgo moons, they value being productive and useful with their time—in their case, they hope that their time could lead them to ultimate success and recognition. These people may like to work many hours or put in much time to their career endeavors. This often leaves them little to no quality time for their loved ones and friends. Furthermore, these folks are very patient and precise in their actions as they are able to build things from the ground up and maintain a vision for a long period of time. That is why they are often good planners and can easily build a business or company if they desired to. However, they need to make sure that they do not overwork themselves, isolate themselves from pleasures and socialization, and develop strong control issues; it could easily lead them down the road to stress, burn out, or depression. Additionally, since they are serious individuals, they may struggle with maintaining a balance outlook on the things they need to do and the things they do for the fun of it. They should learn how to maintain balance with work and pleasure—because one without the other could wreak havoc.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in aquarius ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Aquarius seek community, electrifying experiences, and goals in their daily life and routines. These people are always hoping to spend time with their community–people who are similar to them because they make them feel like they belong, and they adore making people feel like they belong as well. However, people tend to forget to give credit for how hardworking these folks are. They might dedicate most of their time in the day to working towards their hopes and dreams. These individuals desire to live a life in which everything is served to justice, equality, and peace–a place they can live in, a life they can adhere to. Therefore, these people are very dedicated to working towards their aspirations for the sake of themselves and the people they care about. Additionally, they strive for unpredictability in their routine. They want something different everyday in their errands–something erratic and thrilling. However, there could be too much unpredictableness to the point of instability in their actions. It is important to find a balance in that too.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

moon in pisces ˚☽˚｡⋆.

Individuals with Moon in Pisces seek imagination, spirituality, creativity, and the unknown in their daily life and routines. These people prefer to stay in their heads and work out the dreams and fantasies that they have in their mind. Even if they are forced to live in the practical world, it is important that pisces moons always operate from the place of visualizing their creative ideas and manifestations. These are the types to invest most of their time into different mediums of spirituality such as meditation, journaling, the occult, manifestation, or connecting to the unknown or spirit world. Furthermore, they would like to invest their energy into artistic hobbies such as photography, painting, drawing, music, fashion, or modeling. However, it is easy for these individuals to get lost in their subconscious and completely neglect their physical circumstances. There could even be instances in which they use vices to escape from the world (such as alcohol, drugs, or if they are in a relationship, a person) There seems to be this need for balance when it comes to the spiritual and the practical–perhaps even setting boundaries because these people are also very compassionate and kind. There could be times in which they feel the need to change their schedule for the sake of the people they care about even if they are not able to.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

#astrology #natal chart #guxciestone #zodiac #astro observations #astro community #tarot #astrology observations #pick a card #tarot community

1K notes · View notes

house-of-daena · 8 months

Text

my precious experiment [afab.dottore x amab.reader]

contents: no pronouns specified, dom reader/sub dottore, nsfw, fem terms w/ genitalia, dubcon, monsterfucking, biting, blood, masochistic dottore, dacryphilia, monster anatomy, 2 c0cks, breeding kink, monster rut, belly bulge, size kink, viginity taking, oral (giving), typical dottore warnings, dottore tries to pretend he's in control, tell me if i miss anything.

꒰ hm, just some thoughts. sorry if it's kinda bad it's been a while since i've written smut, but i promise the next post will be relatively better. rqs r open btw꒱

usually, miscalculations don't happen in dottore's experiments. sure, his research hits the occasional dead end and failure is inevitable. after all, it is part of the journey to achieve his goals; without failure, how can he improve and ascend into a new realm of knowledge?

but this was unprecedented.

you were a successful result of a recent experiment the doctor had conducted. the tsaritsa wanted more power into the fatui, especially when the traveler was running rampant about. however, you were still a prototype, and due to this, you've become dottore's obedient little errand/guard dog that is at his beck and call instead.

you could talk but chose silence and actions to communicate. dottore discovered you were very easy to please; just mere praise and gentle pats on your head, and you're roaring to take on any task the doctor shall give.

but since you were so obedient, dottore never would have expected you to act out of line. he should've been more prepared for a multitude of scenarios that could put him in danger. you were a beast, at the end of the day.

a beast in heat.

looming over him, your hand pinning his wrists above his head, your body pressed against his. even though your brain was drowning in a haze of lust, you were mindful of his reactions and the profanities spilling out of his lips.

"what do you think you're doing?" he hisses through his sharp teeth, glaring at you through his mask. you only let out a deep rumble in your chest as a reply, your free hand trailing down his torso, your sharp claws tearing cuts into his clothes. "don't tell me you think i'd take care of your heat." he felt a sense of dread, an emotion unfamiliar, throughout his entire body when you let out a purr, confirming his assumption.

dottore can't fathom the idea. him, the 2nd of the 11 fatui harbingers, catering to your needs? ridiculous! it should be you who'd be pleasing him! he squirmed against your grip, kicking and thrashing against your hold. you loosened your grasp, sensing his distress, but no matter what dottore did, you were too big, too strong, for him to manage an escape.

this is the first time dottore has cursed himself for creating such a successful experiment.

as if you could read into his mind, you pull back from his neck, blinking your clouded eyes at him. you stared deeply into his soul that dottore could feel the hairs at the back of his neck stand. then, you spoke, gently and softly, in contrast to your beastly form, "do you have any precautions on an event like this?" you ask, your claws slowly digging into the tender flesh of his thigh, making him bite his bottom lip to suppress any embarrassing noise that threatens to leave his throat.

it was rare for you to speak. he'd only hear you let out small grunts when he injects you with a big needle or training with other fatui members. hearing you speak out a whole sentence sent an inexplicable shiver down his spine, and he felt his breath hitch.

when he didn't answer, too distracted by the tingling sensations on his body at the mere sound of your voice, you settled yourself between his legs and pressed yourself against his crotch. dottore's eyes widened, and he almost let out a gasp.

you were so warm against him, even when your clothes separated your skin from his. he could feel it straining and twitching against your pants and slowly rubbing yourself against him. fuck, it was dangerously big. he doesn't remember giving you something like that! somehow, the doctor struggled to think of anything else other than the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, gulping as he tried to regain his composure.

"have you made any suppressants for me?" you inquire once more, pressing a wet kiss against his cheek as you slowly lifted him up with just a hand, letting his wrists go to wrap his legs around your waist, to which he absentmindedly complied. "or did you plan to neglect me until my heat subsides?" your lips moved languidly against his marred skin, careful at his sensitive spots and started nipping at his neck, your sharp teeth forming aching bruises.

dottore grit his teeth as his hands shakily rested on your shoulders, weakly gripping them as he tried not to get too lost in the foreign feeling burning inside of him. he has never experienced such a thing. it was quite overwhelming, especially when you just grabbed him in the middle of his work and pinned him against the wall so suddenly. "you... were very well-behaved, i— ngh! i hadn't taken into account that your animalistic parts would go as f-far as giving you a heat cycle..."

he sounded like he was a bit quizzical at your predicament, probably planning to run down some tests on you later to further understand your form. it made your heart flutter when he spoke so analytically, especially towards you. you adored the doctor so much, and he sounded heavenly when he was holding back moans and catching his breath in between his words.

"then, since you are my creator, you should take responsibility for whatever happens to my body..." dottore finally couldn't hold back and let out a small shriek when you sank your teeth onto a sensitive area on his neck, hard enough to draw blood. you relished the iron taste against your tongue, so you bit him again and again, leaving red bruising marks all over his neck and down to his collarbone. all he could do was helplessly whine at your ministrations and claw at your broad shoulders, trembling against your body as he slowly descended into madness.

the tips of his ears reddened when you let out a chuckle, holding him so close in your arms. you had barely done anything, and he was already shaking. my doctor is beyond adorable, you thought to yourself.

you were just so taken by him, could he even blame you?

so utterly debauched by his everything. his body littered with beautiful scars and marks that reminded you of blank canvases gaining life and meaning with gorgeous colors and patterns, his red eyes that could easily pierce through your beastly facade, and his scent, alluring, addicting.

you could smell him everywhere you went inside the laboratory. it doesn't help that he has multiple segments that smell just like him. it drove you crazy, it was dizzying just to breathe whilst you stood on guard with the gnawing desire that was slowly consuming you. it only greatly intensified with your heart.

you didn't understand why your instincts wanted him. it was as if it was just in your system to want him, need him. your blood boils just by having him trapped in your arms, and your body reacts too aggressively when his skin touches yours. you just want him to keep him close to you, to bury your cocks inside his holes and fill him up to the point that you know he'll have your pups.

it was maddening.

but you're a patient little pet. you have enough self-control to hold yourself back so as to not upset your owner, creator. you respect your owner first and foremost. you purr and nuzzle against his neck, peppering wet, apologetic kisses on his skin, hoping it was enough to allow you to indulge your animalistic urges and ravish him until he could only think, feel and need your cocks.

"what's your verdict, doctor?" your voice seemed to snap him out of his trance, head tilting upwards to look at you. "will you help me?"

dottore, for the first time in years, felt his heart racing. he didn't even think it was even possible anymore. it felt so odd to have you towering over him; he wanted to yell at you, to punish you for your misbehavior and perhaps deem you as a failure of an experiment. but the longer this went on, the more his body began to react so unusually...

he could feel himself throb between his legs, and he struggled to breathe. any coherent thought he had was thrown out the window, and his mind was vacant. he knew his pussy was fucking soaked, clenching onto nothing as you rubbed your crotch against his. he didn't understand why he seemed to like being overpowered so easily.

the only distant memory he could recall when he felt the same way was when he was back at the akademiya, but that was only because of his hormones, and he has never really dealt with such time-consuming activities.

but now, he can't find himself to deny you. how could he? you were practically holding him down until he couldn't move. who knows what you'd do to him if he were to refuse?

with a last attempt to not appear as pathetic as he was at the moment, he let out a shaky scoff and straightened his back. "fine," he relents with a firm tone, dazedly glaring at you, "but only to... further investigate the state your... body is in..." it was a flimsy excuse to save his ego, but it was enough for you.

you gave him a peck on the lips, and your tail began to wag enthusiastically behind you. "thanks, doc. i'll be gentle with your first time."

oh, how you adore the look he gave you. it was simply too obvious based on his reactions. oh well, his ego will be ruined into nothing later on.

archons, why did he agree?

dottore felt like he was dying. this was a pleasure he never thought of experiencing in his whole life. your monstrously long and wide tongue slipping so easily inside his pussy and stretching his insides with little concern got him doubling back. he has your head locked between his thighs, but you didn't seem to care as you relentlessly lapped at the sweet ichor that dripped between his legs and wriggled your tongue as deep as you could inside his walls.

oh gods, it felt so good. he was practically riding your mouth as his hips stuttered against the movements of your tongue. he felt like he was going to explode in pleasure, his sensitive parts that have never been explored by another quivering at each touch. the pad of your thumb rubbed incessantly against his clit, and he can't help but throw his head back, letting out such obscene sounds you never thought you'd hear coming from his lips.

your claws, which you have dulled for his convenience, buried deep into his other hole, covered in his own spit. you thrust your claws in rhythm with your tongue's movement, and he was losing his mind. it felt too good— it was like he ascended into the heavens. his body burned hotter and hotter, and his walls convulsed at the slick feeling of your tongue.

his hands grabbed hold of your horns, tugging on it so harshly as if he was about to tear it from your forehead. you could only groan at the aching feeling, speeding up your movements and making him choke on his own moans.

"f-fuck! slow down i— ahn! i-i cAN'T! OH! hgnnn..." he slurs out, his body so overwhelmed at the mind-numbing pleasure, but his words contradicted his actions. his hips moved erratically to meet your thrusts from both your claws and your tongue, clenching on them as if he never wanted to let you go.

and when you finally deemed he was ready, holes stretched out enough to take your cocks, you gripped his hips to stop him from moving. slowly, you let your tongue slide out of his cunt and your fingers leave his ring of muscles. he whined at the sudden emptiness, glaring at you with his watery, ruby eyes and scowling. "i was so close! why the hell did you-"

you easily, but gently, moved him down to your lap, allowing him to straddle you as you sit up. your tail immediately coiled around his waist possessively as you purred at him. dottore gulped when he understood what you wanted, and watched as you removed your belt and unbuttoned your pants.

okay, dottore definitely does not remember giving you two cocks. did it just develop while you were in the incubation pod? having one massive cock is already too much for dottore to handle, but two?

your tail moved his body, hovering his holes over your cocks. he jolts from how warm your cock heads were when it pressed against his holes. he grabbed your shoulder and his eyes were blown wide with panic. "w-wait- that won't fit!"

you only cooed, your hands roaming his body so tenderly as if to ease his tensed muscles. you didn't speak, but your eyes told him everything, 'we'll make it fit.'

before he could argue with you, you've already aligned yourself and slowly pushed his hips down onto your thick cocks. your girth was too much, his insides burned at the stretch as your cocks dragged against his walls as he kept sucking you in. you were barely halfway in, and he already felt like he was going to pass out.

you were nothing short but sweet to him, wiping his tears (when did he start crying?) and cooing softly into his ear. you were taking it considerably slow just for him, despite your animalistic urges telling you to just slam him down and fuck him.

dottore took in a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around your neck. leaning back and gritting his teeth, he tried to keep his body lax as you eased him down on your lengths until you were fully sheathed inside him. he raked his hands through your hair, and you immediately leaned against his touch, following the warmth of his hand.

"good beast," he utters in your ears, and he hears you trilling happily at his praise. you grabbed his face with your hand and pulled him into a kiss, tilting his head to devour his mouth. he moaned at the taste of himself that lingered on your tongue, closing his eyes.

though his praise did the opposite of what he wanted when you slowly lifted him up from your cocks until it was only the tips were inside of him, too distracted by the dizzying kiss, before slamming him down onto your lap.

dottore pulled away to let out a scream, eyes rolling back as you bounced his body up and down at your cocks. it felt like you've punched all the air out his lungs, trying to split his body in half, every time his holes takes your dicks whole again.

fuck, he felt so good. his insides felt so warm and tingly, practically carving his walls into the shape of your cocks. each thrust, he lets out these cute "ah! ah! ah!", babbling about how you're too big and that he can't take it and that he's about to break. but you were too far gone, letting the beast inside of you take control as you fuck into dottore relentlessly, again and again, burying your dicks impossibly deep inside of him.

when he looked down, he sees a small bump that disappears and reappears whenever he bounces. he looks at it in awe, drooling all over your chest and marveling at how big you are. his holes clenched impossibly tighter around your cocks, and you growled at the feeling. his gummy walls felt like absolute heaven, and you picked up your pace.

dottore was doing everything he can to not pass out. his throat was beginning to hurt from how much he was screaming and moaning and chanting your name over and over. he was seeing stars and his nails rake down the bare skin of your back, leaving marks and making them bleed.

"f-fuckk! too b-big!" he moans, trying to catch his breath, "s' good! d-don't stop!"

and you took that order to heart. even when dottore has begged you to stop, that his mind was so numb he could barely form coherent sentences, that his holes were so raw and spent from how long you've been fucking him, that he has come so many times he can't even cum anymore, yet you still continue to fuck him.

"n-no more! fuck! i-i can't- i've already cum so much- please!" he begs, vision blurry from his tears. "ahn! h-hannh! fuck im cumming again! imcummingimcumming-"

he was barely awake at this point, laying flat on his stomach as he weakly grips on the sheets for his dear life. you were not satisfied just yet, even if you've filled him up to the brim. he could feel his stomach swell with your warmth, but you only kept going, groaning into his ear and purring happily from the pleasure.

you were going to get it after you're done. he was going to make you feel the pain that even a monster like you can't bear it. he swears on it pathetically, hiccuping between airy moans. he couldn't feel his lower half anymore, but he still tries to move against your thrusts.

it was so addicting. the pleasure, the high... he will do something about your behavior later... but for now, he'll allow you to continue filling him up with your cum. he was conducting a test on the limitations of your body, after all.

#» asmo's writings #» dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x male reader #sub dottore #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #genshin smut

2K notes · View notes

rafetopia · 4 months

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

-𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

genre: smut & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~3k

warnings: dom!rafe & subby reader, prison sex, “public” sex in a sense you can be possibly watched and heard, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, blackmailing, bribery, mentions of an affair (not r & r), fingering, slight handjob, mentions of violence and tiny teeny bit of soft!rafe

summary: you visit your fiancé in jail after his arrest

note: i want to say big thank you to @rafesthroatbaby for giving me this wonderful idea (i really hope i did it justice) and to @rvfecamerons for beta reading and helping me improving this piece!!! love you guys to pieces!!

The moment you walked through the doors of the Kildare's Detention Center, you had all eyes on you. The way your cute little summer dress hugged your curves and emphasized your tits, combined with the pastel pink heels and the way you were carrying yourself, was just impossible for anyone to miss. You pulled out your phone and opened your camera, using it as a mirror to apply your lipstick. When your gaze met one of the officers, you gave him a genuine but exaggerated smile, before making your way over to him, making sure to swing your hips a little bit more than usual.

“Good afternoon, officer.” You smirked. “I’m here to see Rafe Cameron.”

“Mr. Cameron isn’t allowed any visitors. Have a nice day.” He bluntly spoke, not interested in any further interaction.

“Oh, but he sure is.” You smiled innocently, before leaning over the counter until you were really close to the man in front of you. “And you’re gonna let me see him.”

“And why is that?”

You smiled devilishly, as leaned towards the man, now only inches away from his face. “Because I’m sure you know who my family is and that I am capable of shredding every single one of you and your corrupt and very much incompetent colleagues to pieces if you don’t grant me that teeny tiny request to see my man..” You paused, “Starting with you and the little affair you have been going on with the mayor's wife.”

His expression shifted as he listened to your threads, knowing that you were indeed serious. You saw how he was fighting with his thoughts and he knew this was bad but he couldn’t risk you exposing the entire department and especially not his affair.

“Fine.” He mumbled as he looked from left to right, making sure that nobody was listening in. “Wait here.”

He came back around five minutes later and guided you towards what you assumed to be the room, where your fiancé was waiting. He was about to open the door when you stopped him.

“See, Officer Wilson, my man and I didn’t have a lot of privacy recently… so I need you to make sure that we will have that.”

“Absolutely not.”

You gave him a disappointed look before reaching into your bag once again. You pulled out a 100-dollar bill and stuffed it into his pocket, before leaning towards his ear. “See, if you would be so kind and look away…might even let you watch.” You smirked, causing him to turn bright red from embarrassment. “Keys?” You smiled, as you opened your hand. He reached onto his collar, removed one single key, and handed it to you. “See, wasn’t so hard, now was it?” You grinned.

You could tell Officer Wilson was beyond pissed that he got screwed by someone as young as you, a female to make it worse but that didn’t matter to you. You got what you wanted.

….

“Hello, baby.” You said the second he had closed the door behind you.

“(Y/N).” He chuckled softly. You were still standing next to the door, but you could see the tears building up in his eyes.

Your heart arched at the way he was looking at you, with teary eyes, tousled hair, and a bruised-up face. You were there when Officer Thomas buried his fist in your fiancé’s face, everyone was able to hear your screams and pleads for him to stop. Deputy Plumb had to physically hold you back and stop you from going full-blown crazy on her colleague, which resulted in you throwing violent threats at the whole police force that was there at that moment. Plumb even wanted to lock you into a cell until you calmed down but Shoupe warned her of the aftermath that would have been your father if she had taken action on her plan.

You took the seat in front of him and immediately held out your hands, for him to hold them. His hands were cuffed together with a light violet and blue line around his wrists, where the metal clung to his skin. You immediately went for the key in your fist and tried to open it.

“How did you convince them to let you in? Alone to give you the key?” He asked surprised but deep down he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew how convincing and resourceful you were, it was one of the many things he loved about you.

“You know I have my ways.” You smirked at the satisfying click of the cuffs. The second his hands were free, you took them into yours and softly caressed his bruised skin. They had them way too tight and you were pretty sure they knew that.

“You do.” He chuckled. “I miss you.”

“I’m here now.” You whispered softly, trying to suppress the tear that was building up in your eye.

You wanted to say that you wouldn’t leave him again but you both knew that would’ve been a lie. The way he held on to your hands was enough for you to jump up, walk around the table, and climb onto his lap, where you gently pressed his head onto your chest.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You smiled, “I made sure of that. Now come here.”

He leaned his head back onto your chest and buried his face into your dress. It didn’t take long until you felt his tears through the thin fabric of your dress, followed by quiet sobs leaving his mouth. It was only with you, that he would ever let himself go like that but he hated it, he hated every single second of it. He knew how much it broke you to be apart from him and he hated to be the cause of your suffering. He never wanted it to go this way, he never wanted anyone to get hurt but most of all, he never wanted for you to get hurt.

After a few minutes, he quickly got himself back together and looked into your eyes. They were soft and kind but had an evil spark in them, which was the perfect reflection of your personality. He saw how much you tried to stay strong for him, he saw how much you fought back your tears and he couldn’t have that. He needed to be the strong one, the one who protected you and was there when you needed him, not the other way around. But at this moment, he couldn’t and you knew that. His tears had dried by now, just as quickly as you were used to it with Rafe.

You leaned in for a kiss, which started out soft and gentle but the more you both realized how you had missed each other's lips, the more passionate and hungry it became. Your hand was resting on his chest, as his hands were wandering down your back to your ass until they slipped under your dress. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, a feeling that you had missed so much. You felt his hardened bulge between your legs, begging for your touch. You let your hand slide into his pants, the thin material being easy to be pushed aside, and started caressing him. He moaned out quietly at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his tip, trying to not get the attention of the officers. Normally he wouldn't give a single fuck about anyone hearing the two of you, but in a setting like this, he would rather die than have you pulled away from him.

He pushed away the material of your barely existing thong, and slid inside two of his fingers, causing you to let out a loud moan. His other hand quickly flew towards your mouth, making you unable to make another sound.

“Quiet princess, you don’t want them to hear us, right?” He breathed into your ear.

You gave him a quick nod, a silent promise for you to try and stay quiet. He started moving his fingers again as you slid your hand up and down his shaft, first slowly but then faster and faster, until it became hard for him to stay quiet. He let out another moan and this time it was you, who put her hand on his lips.

“Seriously?” You whispered, one eyebrow raised.

He then pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, leaving a satisfied grin on his face. “You have no idea how much I missed your taste on my lips, baby.”

You smirked, before hopping onto the table behind you. The metal was cold on your bare skin, sending goosebumps all over your skin. “I would love to feel your tongue on me baby but…” You started, “But I need to feel you inside of me because…” You stopped, looking up into your fiancé's eyes.

“But you don’t know when we will be able to do this again.” He finished, a tone of sadness washing over his voice. “I don’t want to think about that right now, princess.” He smiled, before reaching into his pants and pulling out his dick. “I love you.” He whispered against her lips, before aligning himself with your entrance.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Everything you want, baby.”

“I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to get you out of this. That I will never give up on you. I want you to know that we will be able to do this again, but right now, I really need you fuck me like we won’t.” You paused, “I need you to fuck me like it’s gonna be the last thing you will ever do. Can you do that for me?”

“Trust me, princess, once I’m done with you, you will barely be able to walk out of here, leaving my DNA all over the floor of this building.”

Before you could even respond, he had his hand on your neck and pushed himself into you. You wanted to moan out at the feeling but his grip around your throat tightened so much, it was hard for you to get any sounds out. He started off slow and gentle but quickly became faster, as he thrusted into you. He clashed his lips onto yours, as your fingers dug into his shoulders. you didn’t realize it, but your hands moved up to his neck where your nails dug deep into his skin. He felt so good inside of you and since you weren’t allowed to make any noise, your energy just had to go somewhere.

“Just… just like that baby.” You whispered, trying so hard to keep your voice down.

He smirked and thrust into you even harder. With every thrust, he hit that sweet spot of you and you could already sense that familiar feeling in your stomach building up. He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, so he pulled out, causing you to protest.

“Why…” You pouted, disappointment written all over your face.

“Turn around.” He demanded, without giving you any reasoning.

You did as told, jumped from the table, and turned around. With a swift motion, Rafe had buried himself in your walls once again, without any warning. Your nails dug into the cold metal of the table, and you were sure if you applied just a little bit more pressure, they’d break.

Your face was directed towards the door and windows now, making everyone who chose to look inside able to look directly into your face. The danger of being walked in by an entire police force, combined with the deep and ruthless thrusts of Rafe’s hips, was enough to almost send you over the edge. Your gaze was fixated on the window, where you could see the back of Officer Wilson’s head, who was standing guard just like you told him to.

“Harder please!” You moaned out louder than intended.

Your lack of quietness seemed to have caught the attention of the guard, who had now turned around and granted himself a peak through the glass. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but smirk, as you let your head fall back into Rafe’s neck. He also seemed to have noticed what was going on and he would’ve lied if he said it didn’t turn him on even more. The grin on his face was enough for the now embarrassed Officer to turn around again, desperately trying to hide the blush on his face.

“I thought, I told you to stay quiet…fucking brat…” He growled, as he took a chunk of your hair and pulled your head back, so he could reach your ear more easily. “You’re gonna be the death of both of us I swear.”

You were sure he saw how you were smirking at the officer from the reflection of the windows, but that only made it more fun. You loved doing shit like this and he knew that. But you also knew how good he was at punishing you and most definitely could not risk him leaving you dry, not tonight.

“Mh sorry.” You cried out.

“What was that?”

“Sorry, daddy.” You repeated, “Gonna be good now, promise.”.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked, before ripping off your thong. “Just to be sure.” He added as he stuffed the piece of fabric into your mouth.

You could taste yourself on your thong and if you were being honest, you really were fucking delicious. His thrusts became harder and harder now, hitting your G-spot every time he pounded into you. But it wouldn’t be Rafe Cameron if he wouldn’t add at least one finger to the party, in order to send you completely over the edge. He placed his index finger on your clit and started massaging it, while his other hand started to taunt your ass relentlessly.

“Being such a good girl for daddy, doing such a good job.” He cooed into your ear, but you were barely able to hear his words, as your mind had drifted far, far away. “Taking me so perfectly.” He added as he thrust himself even deeper into you, with more force and less mercy.

He knew it was loud but he had long stopped caring. All his sorrows had left his body, the second he could feel your walls around him. His soul might have been broken, as he got ripped off every ounce of control he had over himself and his surroundings, but when he was inside of you, it was like you handed it all right back to him. At this moment, his hand now back on your hip and his other on your clit, he had all the control over not just your body, but also over his own, as he thrust into you deeper and deeper. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and there was no doubt that Officer Wilson heard it too.

The harder and faster he went, the harder he felt not just your walls tighten around him, but also his dick twitching beneath them. He knew the both of you were close so he sped up his pace once again, ramming himself into you with every ounce of strength he had left inside him. Your vision turned blurry as you felt tears stream down your face and your release rushing over your body like a bomb exploding inside of you. Rafe came close behind, shooting his load deep inside of you.

He stayed like that for a second, his arm wrapped around you, as he rested his head on the back of your shoulder. As the two of you tried to catch your breath, reality swamped over your mind like a hurricane. You pulled your thong out of your mouth and wiped away the black tears that had stained the table beneath you. You then set yourself up and turned around, where you found Rafe fixing up his pants. The moment his eyes met yours, you saw the pain that he had been surprising for the last seven minutes and it tore your heart apart once again.

He softly wiped away the tears that had stained your beautiful face, but he wasn’t able to get it all. He knew the tears weren’t coming from a sad place originally, but he also knew that these very much could’ve been the tears you had been suppressing since the moment you stepped foot into the room.

“Hey.” He said softly, as he wrapped his hands around your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You smiled, as you took his hand in yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna get you out of here. I promise.” You added before getting interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

You rolled your eyes at the sign, making the boy in front of you laugh. “It’s okay.” He whispered, “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine.” He paused, “All I need is for you to be happy.”

“Baby hell is gonna freeze over before I’m letting you rot in this cell. Besides, how dare you, believe that I could ever be happy without you by my side.”

He smiled softly, before placing a soft kiss on your lips. He then took the handcuffs from the table and handed them over to you. “Rather have you do it than any of those assholes.”

“Kinky.” You chuckled, before placing them around his wrist. You made sure to make them loose enough, so he would still be able to move them around, without his wrists bruising up. “Here, keep this, you’re gonna need it.” You said as you got the ripped piece of fabric, that used to be your underwear and stuffed it into his pants, careful so it wouldn't be visible.” Rafe grinned at that gesture of you, knowing this, and the memory of you and the past few minutes would be the one thing keeping him sane for what was about to come.

“Till death do us part?”

“Till death do us part.”

add yourself to my tag list here

please note that i was stupid and deleted my old tag list from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe) so if you already added yourself to that one and you wanna get tagged again, please fill out my new form 🥺🤍

#jas writes ❥#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks smut #dom!rafe cameron x sub!reader

1K notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 4 months

Text

Fake It Till You Make It - CL16

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Fake Dating turned real dating trope

6.3K

For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family

ROYAL MESS

In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.

When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."

"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.

It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?

Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare

Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."

Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.

For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.

Henri was at his wits end.

He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"

"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"

Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.

But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.

Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.

He had to do something, he had no idea what.

There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.

Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.

This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.

Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.

This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.

In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.

At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.

He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.

As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.

In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.

But then then was Charles Leclerc.

Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.

"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.

The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.

Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.

Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."

The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.

Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.

"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."

It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."

Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.

Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.

Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.

There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.

It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.

It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and read through his messages.

Charles Leclerc

I'm in

***

It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.

They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.

So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.

Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."

"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."

"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."

"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"

Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."

Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"

Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."

She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.

That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.

Henri’s head fell into his hands.

For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.

He was a complete control freak.

For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.

That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.

But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.

Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.

As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.

Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).

Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"

She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"

But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.

He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."

Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.

So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.

It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.

The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.

Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.

Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.

The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.

She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.

With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.

"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."

"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.

Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.

***

Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.

The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.

Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I know," she answered.

It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.

She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."

"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.

They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.

It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.

During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.

"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.

"How did that happen?"

She just pretended not to hear him.

This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.

She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.

Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.

Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.

As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?

"I live near here," she said, looking at him.

Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.

"But what do we have to gain from that?"

That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.

"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."

Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.

"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.

Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.

Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."

She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.

"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.

But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.

"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."

"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.

Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.

When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.

So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.

Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.

So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.

"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.

Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.

She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."

Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.

***

There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.

When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting

CL16

what do you want your contact picture to be?

Please don't make it something embarrassing

Oh come on, Charles

I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you

okay i take it back

oh god

look at this little guy

you were so cute

what happened?

Hey!

I'm still cute!

The ladies love me

sure they do, sunshine

She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.

But Henri certainly did.

The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.

"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."

But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.

"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"

It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."

Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"

That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.

Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"

Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.

The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.

Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.

They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.

When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.

As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.

"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.

They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.

They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"

"I... Just thought..."

"Well you thought wrong!"

Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.

The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.

OFF THE RAILS

Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.

Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.

But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.

Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.

She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.

She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?

Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.

So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.

Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.

Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.

Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.

Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.

Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.

That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.

When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.

After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.

When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.

The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.

When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother told me you're not doing good."

"So?"

She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.

But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."

Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.

The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.

"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.

She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.

Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.

And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.

"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."

Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.

He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."

But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.

Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."

Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.

When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.

"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.

But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."

"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.

They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."

Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."

One step at a time.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

1K notes · View notes