#red candles part 16

[headspace-hotel]

Minecraft 1.20 thoughts:

The highlight is, of course, the cherry blossom grove biome and cherry trees. The cherry wood just looks SO GOOD with everything. I've made so many builds incorporating it already and it's so easy to work into a color scheme. Cherry wood. Hhhhhnnnnghh. Such a delicious shade of pink. I want to eat it.

Also really excited about the bamboo wood set, it looks amazing and adds a lot of functionality to bamboo.

Feeling pretty positively about the armor trims, though I wish there were more where the decorative material was more dominant in the color scheme.

Trail ruins and archaeology: Mixed feelings. I think archaeology is a fun mechanic, I like exploring the trail ruins, but they really, really turn inventory management into an absolute nightmare.

There are many different varieties of pottery sherds, I think at least 20. Sherds of different types do not stack. There are 4 armor trims that can be dropped by suspicious gravel in trail ruins. Trims of different types do not stack. The trail ruin structures themselves include many different varieties of terracotta and glazed terracotta, (at least 6 different colors of each) and—you guessed it!—each type stacks separately.

Additionally, suspicious gravel in trail ruins may drop any of several colors of candle (I have found red, purple, green, brown, and blue candles) and any of several colors of glass pane. The process of digging the ruin out will fill your inventory with at least 6 stacks of gravel as well as a lot of dirt, coarse dirt, cobblestone, and flint.

To top it all off, unless you want to enchant your brush with Unbreaking, you will need to carry multiple brushes because the brush breaks before the ruin is fully cleared.

Even with multiple shulker boxes clearing a ruin fully in one trip is impossible. What were the devs even thinking??? Are we expected to throw away the candles and other "junk" drops and ignore the glazed terracotta, mud bricks, and other tedious-to-obtain blocks in the structure itself?

This update shares with 1.19 the bizarre attribute of the devs supposedly being very focused on the player experience, while seemingly not noticing key parts of the player experience. The new mechanics and features in both have some incredibly fun and engaging elements to them but also some glaring problems.

I'm pretty much just indifferent to the clay pots? They would be more fun if they incorporated some basic colored patterns and/or actually could be used for something.

Changes to sign editing, and hanging signs are both fantastic.

The "Netherite Upgrade" is shit and I'm not sorry to say it.

Like...netherite is already so incredibly tedious and difficult to obtain that it's almost not worth bothering with. 4 ancient debris is needed to craft a single netherite ingot. You need 16 ancient debris to upgrade a full diamond armor set to netherite, and 8 more if you want to upgrade a sword and one pickaxe. If you don't have Mending on all of them, basically go fuck yourself, because from that point you will need multiple netherite ingots to repair a piece of equipment in the same way you would need multiple diamonds to repair diamond equipment. All of this for a set of equipment that will be fucking gone if you die and can't recover it.

And yet the devs have decided to??? fucking...add a generic, painfully uncharismatic new item to provide another barrier to obtaining netherite gear? because it's too easy or something???

I haven't broken into the other new additions very much, but I will try to obtain a sniffer egg soon...

#minecraft #minecraft 1.20 #mineblr

[hotvintagepoll]

which streaming service has the most vintage movies? If you don't know, maybe your followers could answer? 🙏

Ooh hoo hoo you asked and I'll answer!!

I actually made a post like this for the hot men tournament, but I can't find it now so I'll do it again from scratch. The short answer is that I don't know of any one streaming service that has all the old vintage movies—but most streaming services have a "classics" genre category that can get you started. Here's a small selection of what you can find on different streaming services:

TUBI (free):

The Adventures of Robin Hood (Olivia de Havilland)

A Streetcar Named Desire (Vivien Leigh)

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Jane Powell, Julie Newmar)

North by Northwest (Eva Marie Saint)

The Music Man (Shirley Jones)

The Women (Norma Shearer, Rosalind Russell, Joan Crawford, Joan Fontaine, Paulette Goddard, several other hotties in small parts)

The Philadelphia Story (Katharine Hepburn, Ruth Hussey)

Notorious (Ingrid Bergman)

Bell, Book, and Candle (Kim Novak, Elsa Lanchester)

The Talk of the Town (Jean Arthur)

Dark Victory (Bette Davis)

Stray Dog (Keiko Awaji)

Some Like It Hot (Marilyn Monroe)

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow (Sophia Loren)

Dirty Girtie From Harlem USA (Francine Everett)

Passport (Madhubala)

Dark Passage (Lauren Bacall)

Sepia Cinderella (Sheila Guyse)

On The Town (Ann Miller, Vera-Ellen, Betty Garrett)

The Bandwagon (Cyd Charisse)

Devar (Sharmila Tagore)

Reet-Petite and Gone (June Richmond)

The Postman Always Rings Twice (Lana Turner)

KANOPY (free through some libraries):

Dial M for Murder (Grace Kelly)

His Girl Friday (Rosalind Russell)

Ball of Fire (Barbara Stanwyck)

Black Orpheus (Marpessa Dawn)

Flower Drum Song (Reiko Sato, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki)

Marriage Italian Style (Sophia Loren)

The Rose Tattoo (Anna Magnani)

Tokyo Story (Setsuko Hara)

War and Peace (Audrey Hepburn, Anita Ekberg)

Salt of the Earth (Rosaura Revueltas)

Metropolis (Brigitte Helm)

The Red Shoes (Moira Shearer)

HOOPLA (free through some libraries):

The Court Jester (Angela Lansbury, Glynis Johns)

Sunset Boulevard (Gloria Swanson)

A Place in the Sun (Elizabeth Taylor)

Barefoot in the Park (Jane Fonda)

The Barefoot Contessa (Ava Gardner)

Wings (Clara Bow)

YOUTUBE (has a lot of older movies that have slipped through copyright/are still up for some reason):

Charade (Audrey Hepburn)

Story Weather (Lena Horne)

Gilda (Rita Hayworth)

Rebecca (Joan Fontaine)

This entire playlist of Indian cinema that I just found (Madhubala, Waheeda Rehman, Nargis, Meena Kumari, etc.)

And that's just a small sample. There is also always your local library for physical DVDs, the Internet Archive, and....other methods.....if you know exactly what you're looking for.

I haven't seen all of these movies, so don't consider them personal recommendations—these are just famous movies with our hotties in them, so please be careful if you have content warnings. Good luck and have fun!

EDIT 5/16: Added a few more movies to the different sections, but this is still just a small selection of what the different streaming services have. Good luck!

#asks #old movies #hotvintagethoughts

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Danny Phantom x DC crossover

Regent!Jazz, Vigilante!Jazz AU

Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd (Anger management or Hardcover ship)

Main Masterlist

Original prompt

Part 1: What’s lost can be found

Part 2: Let the world know

Part 3: If you could’ve seen

Part 4: Show me those issues

Part 5: Dare not preach

Part 6: From the top of my lungs

Part 7: Running from a crucifixion

Part 8: Dressed in all black

Part 9: Left its seeds while I was sleeping

Part 10: Keep me from my grave

Part 11: A thousand candles burn into the night

Part 12: It was just for fools

Part 13: Goddamn when you're young

Part 14: Taking these wounds to their grave

Part 15: We’re all misunderstood

Part 16: But I know where to start

Part 17: The stars are shining their brightest light

Part 18:

Part 19:

Part 20:

Memes: #1 #2 #3. #4 Social Media Time: #1 #2 #3 #4

The Regent & Red Hood Official Spotify Playlist (Title songs) The Regent & Red Hood UN-Official Spotify Playlist (Inspiration songs) *Coming Soon*

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #jason todd #dp x dc au #masterlist #hardcover ship #anger management ship #jazz x jason #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #mutual pining #now with memes #memes brought to you by insomnia and internet access #regent!jazz memes

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

I've seen the following headline discussed on several news sites:

And most of the discussion surrounded the issue of why are the terrorists shirtless (which takes the gold medal at the "turn a simple answer into a pointless debate" olympics. They're shirtless to make sure they're not carrying suicide vests, that they plan to detonate in the vicinity of the soldiers). What people should be noting about this, is that these armed terrorists were coming out of a hospital. It's another needed piece of evidence that Hamas has been using Gazan hospitals for their military operations. I am once again encouraging you to think about the UN, the Red Cross, the journalists reporting from Gaza, and every "respectable" human rights organization, like Doctors Without Borders, which operated in these places, and COVERED THIS UP for Hamas for the past 16 years.

Denmark's police announced that they have arrested 3 people (with one additional person arrested in The Netherlands) for planning to carry out a terrorist attack against Jews and Israelis.

Israel's top satire show continues to ridicule the inability of the world to have any moral clarity, of even the most basic kind, when it comes to antisemitism.

And that's how you could have done it, SNL.

In the same context, I watched the House debate on the bipartisan resolution calling for the presidents of Harvard and MIT to resign. Some of the arguments against the resolution were absolutely infuriating, either types of "whataboutism" ("But what about all the other things we should be doing to combat antisemitism?" Well, Karen, you can do those, too. There's absolutely no contradiction. At the same time, you say that you've dedicated many years to fighting antisemitism, and yet look at the state of your fight. Maybe holding people in position of educational power personally responsible, maybe making people see that there is a price to pay for taking Qatari money and allowing antisemitism to thrive, would make a difference, on top of those other measures that should be taken to fight Jew hatred) or just repeated, "But free speech!" (as if that line of defence wasn't obliterated during the hearing, when it was demonstrated that other marginalized groups' right to protection has been treated as superseding the right to free speech, on the same campuses where these presidents failed to define a call for the genocide of Jews as harassment, which means that not only did these universities fail to protect Jewish students from antisemitism, they engaged in discriminatory behavior towards Jews themselves).

Thankfully, the resolution passed, 303 to 126.

Here's a reminder of what Jewish students have been dealing with:

On the last day of Hanukkah, I wanna share with you this story. You might have seen this picture before:

This is the Posner family's hanukkiah. In Dec 1931, a moment before the Nazis' rise to power, and when their imminent threat is already well felt by German Jews, Rachel Posner puts this hanukkiah at the window, knowing that the Nazis' headquarters in Kiel, the German city where her husband is the community's rabbi, is situated right across the street from their home. After lighting the candles, she's suddenly inspired to take a picture of the hanukkiah with the Nazi banner in the background. When she gets the picture printed, she writes on the back:

"Judea, drop dead!" says the banner. "Judea will live forever," answers the light.

"Judea, drop dead!" was a part of a common Nazi slogan back then. It went, "Germany, wake up! Judea, drop dead!"

The Posner family heeded the warning signs, and left Germany in 1933, one of the last moments when that was still possible for Jews. The family moved to Israel, and was saved. Once established, they decided to donate the hanukkiah to Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust remembrance authority, to be displayed at our museum. The family only asked for one thing: to get to light the hanukkiah every Hanukkah. Now, museums are not supposed to say yes to this. If you donate something to a museum, that's it. The artifact belongs to the museum, you don't get to ask to use it, and in fact, for preservation purposes, it's not supposed to be used. But YV understood from the start that our museums is not going to be like other ones, and that when people donate artifcats to us, these are not just inanimate objects. These are the remainders of people who are lost, innocence that was robbed, a world that was destroyed. These are reminders of hope and life in the face of hatred and murder. And we can't take that away from people. That's why YV agrees to this type of request.

So, when I take people on a tour of our museum during Hanukkah, and go into our "German Jews room," and I show the corner where a large "window" bears an imprint of Rachel Posner's photo, I have to explain why the display next to the "window" is empty, other than a small note that reads, "temporarily removed." And why Hanukkah is the only time of the year when visitors can't see this hanukkiah.

This year was no exception. Hanukkah came, and we got the Posner family hanukkiah out of the glass display case... Except this year, after the Oct 7 massacre, things are different. The hanukkiah first traveled to Germany, where it was lit by the families of the hostages asking for their loved ones' return, and then it traveled back to Israel, and from there to Gaza, where it was lit by a great grandson of Rabbi Akiva and his wife Rachel Posner.

This is 41 years old Tal Haimi.

Tal was a third generation at kibbutz Nir Yitzhak. He's one of many Israelis, from which there was no sign of life since Oct 7, though there was an indication that they're held in Gaza (most commonly, their cell phone signal was picked up there). Yesterday, his family got confirmation that he was murdered during the Hamas massacre, and it was his body that was kidnapped to Gaza. His wife Ella is pregnant, and was documenting the course of the pregnancy for the past two months, hoping to share that with him, when he returns from captivity. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Youtube

[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞

Law ends up falling asleep in his office, but is quickly waken up as he starts having a wet dream about you. Needing to get off, Law discovers you’ve left a pair of panties on his desk; the perfect thing to help aid him.

Warnings: afab reader, no pronouns, nsfw minors dni

Originally posted on Aug. 18th, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

While it wasn’t strange for Law to be up late, it certainly was odd for him to fall asleep at his desk. He’d almost always avoid it, saying things about how it’s bad for his back.

Which is why you found it quite odd that he hadn’t come back to your room yet. You’d woken up for some water, only to find the other half of your bed cold and empty. 

Sighing, you stretched and drank some of the water on your nightstand, before deciding to go drag your boyfriend back to bed.

—

It’d only been about fifteen minutes.

The day was long and tiring, especially with the crew having routine medical exams all day. Law was exhausted, to say the least. He’d been reviewing papers at his desk when he felt his eyes become heavy. The last thing he’d managed to see before passing out was the clock, which read 12:16 am.

At 12:31, Law woke up. He found it odd he’d only slept for such a short amount of time. Normally he’d be passed out for a good hour before either he woke up and went to bed, or before you’d come and bring him back.

His body was heavy and tense. He felt hot and disheveled, despite only being asleep for not even half an hour. Yawning, Law realized there was a certain tightness constricting his body that could only mean one thing.

Glancing downward with a tired gaze, Law groaned and promptly rolled his gray eyes at the sight. He was hard. Extremely hard, enough that it was nearly painful as his length strained against his jeans. That’s when Law remembered…

He’d dreamt about you in those fifteen minutes that he’d fallen asleep. 

In the dream, Law entered his office, feeling upset over various things, just generally feeling annoyed and irritable. But of course, you could always make him feel better. 

You were sitting on his desk, bare body just barely illuminated underneath the dim candle lighting of the room. Your legs hung off the front of the desk, arms behind you as they held your body up. Your breasts seemed so round and full underneath the lighting, drawing Law’s attention to them before anything else. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to suck on them, feed off of you. 

But then your face stole the attention away. Your cheeks were flushed red, mouth hung open with drool spilling past your wet lips. Your eyes were halfway closed, lazily. There was a look on your face that seemed somewhere between desperate and fucked-out. 

You looked something straight out of one of those magazines with prostitute pirates in them. Something Law always turned his nose up to, having less than zero interest in. But now, he can’t help but think how good you’d look on one, displayed so prettily for everybody to see.

He approached you, placing a hand on your right thigh, squeezing the soft skin. “Need some help, y/n?”

“Please Law,” you begged, biting down on your lips. “It hurts so bad, need you in me now.”

He kissed you before looking over your body from a front angle now, his eyes landing on your swollen pussy. Your body would tense every other moment, your cunt slightly contracting as you squeezed the muscles in it, clenching on nothing. 

Law moved to kneel, burying his face into your sopping cunt after he took in a deep breath, inhaling your sweet lewd scent. 

But just as his tongue could squirm inside you with a loud, melodic moan leaving you, it was all over. 

Law panted, realizing he had to do something about the monstrosity in his pants right away. There was no way he could walk back to his room like this, and in his state of being blinded with lust, he entirely forgot to think of using his powers to teleport you into the office.

Law quickly tossed his shirt off, unzipping his jeans before throwing them open and freeing his aching cock. Wrapping one hand around the shaft, he let out a hiss from the contact. Shit, he was already feeling as though he could cum at any moment.

Then, in the back of his mind, Law recalled you coming in here last night and riding him while he sat at the desk. And how you’d left your panties in the corner of his desk.

Gray eyes searched his desk, finding the pair of black lace panties sitting just where you’d left them. Law, unable to control himself from the horniness, snatched the pair with his right hand, using his left to squeeze his length. It was so dirty, but Law didn’t quite care right now. He was so turned on by the idea that he didn’t even question doing it; Law brought the black panties up to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of your cunt lingering on them. 

As the smell hit his nose, Law’s hips bucked upward, and suddenly he was stroking his cock with fever, needing to cum as soon as possible. Taking in one last breath of your intoxicating scent, Law reluctantly let go of his cock, fisting the panties into his left hand as he wrapped them around his engorged, needy cock, now using them to jerk himself off. 

A moan escaped him, head falling forward as he rutted up into his hand, feeling the lace of your panties pleasantly rubbing against his reddened, swollen tip. 

“Fuck, y/n…” he breathed out, biting his lip and clenching his right hand as he kept rubbing his length. 

—

You’d expected Law to be completely passed out when you found him. However, what you ended up discovering was the last thing you expected from somebody like him.

With a careful hand, you quietly opened the metal door so as to not wake up your lover. But as soon as your head poked into the room, taking one step in, you could hear it.

Law’s voice sounded broken and weak, as he moaned and whimpered your name. You scanned the room before your eyes landed on where he sat, jeans around his ankles as he had a hand wrapped around his cock, some sort of fabric in the hand which held his member… but, were those-

Your panties? 

Law was using your panties to get off. 

Gasping, you quickly shut the door behind you before somebody walked by and walked into the scene, much like you had. Only, this is something that only you’d like to witness. 

Law seemed scared by the sudden noise, his entire body jumping as he turned his head to look at you. But, his hand never stopped moving. His mouth hung open, pathetic whines leaving his lips as he looked at you, pitifully. 

“Y/n,” he whined, dragging out the end of your name. “Baby, h-help.”

You approached Law, getting a better look at the sight before you. 

“This is what you’re doing? Instead of coming back to bed?”

“I fell asleep, a-nd… when I woke up, I was so hard,” he mumbled, a few gasps escaping him as his hips jerked and rutted upward.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, pulling his hat off of his head to reveal messy, sweaty locks of black hair.

“J-just… undress, or something, I dunno…”

“Okay,” you smiled, placing a kiss onto Law’s forehead, before pulling your tank top over your shoulders, revealing your breasts to Law. As the shirt got pulled away, they bounced as they released from their hold. The sight caused Law to let out a loud, desperate moan.

Next was your pajama shorts, quickly followed by your panties. You figured Law needed more of a show to get off, so you hopped up onto his desk, spreading your legs for him to see your glistening cunt. 

You could feel yourself throbbing, knowing Law masturbating to you was turning you on way more than it should’ve. So as to not waste time, you licked two fingers, bringing your hand down to begin playing with your puffy pussy lips. 

Using the two fingers to spread your lips, Law got a good look at your hole, a groan leaving him as you clenched around nothing, much like you had in his dream.

Once you deemed yourself wet enough, you dove in, inserting one finger into your cunt. You whined, using your free hand to grope your breast, kneading at the plushy skin while pinching and pulling your nipple in between. 

Quickly, the room became filled with the lewdest noises you’d ever heard. Law’s desperate whimpers, the squelching of your wet pussy as you fingered yourself, combined with your’s and Law’s mixed moans, both of you coming undone at the sight of each other. 

With you now aiding him, Law was able to finish. But, the urge to finish in you took his body over, as he tossed the panties away, grabbed your hips with one hand and used the other to pull your hand out of your cunt, before shoving his aching cock into your wet hole. 

As soon as his length was buried in you, Law’s hot sticky cum spilled inside you, whimpers and cries escaping his mouth as he gripped your hips so harshly you knew there’d be marks later.

Feeling the seed filling you up, you began cumming too, body shaking as your hips jerked up to meet Law’s thrusts, pretty moans leaving your lips.

You both eventually calmed down, you collapsing backwards to lay flat on the desk, while Law fell forward to lay on top of you, his cock still deep inside you.

“F-fuck,” he cursed, burying his face into your neck.

You let out a light-hearted chuckle, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. “Should’ve just told me you needed help, baby,” you whispered, feeling Law’s exhausted body tremble against you. “Though, I did enjoy the show.”

“Y-you’re not mad I used your panties?” He asked, voice weak.

“Of course not,” you smiled, a cute giggle leaving you.

“Th-that’s… good to know.”

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader smut #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #trafalgar d water law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d law x reader

[kangnina]

MDNI - Naïve!Jungwon 16 …because Jungwon took off his glasses and said “I can’t be a villain” in his Weverse live today....

a/n: AHHHHH, I love it when they say things that make my ramblings seem… umm… not completely delusional... ANYWAYZ... Final chapter friends. Thank you for reading. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Jungwon made your birthday extra special. Breakfast in bed and flowers. He took you to the movies and then to your favorite restaurant where he officially proposed. The patrons cheered and congratulated the two of you. You were as giddy as a girl could ever be. Jungwon barely closed the door to your apartment before your clothes were coming off. Your little red dress sails across the room and you’re left with nothing but your stilettos. The birthday cake, he baked (and almost burnt) will have to wait. You tear his shirt open, buttons flying. 

“Damn!” Jungwon raises an eyebrow before pushing you gently onto the couch. He peels his shirt off and quickly removes his pants and underwear. He’s on you in an instant, kissing you like his life depends on it. You wrap your legs around his, taking out the lamp on the side table in the process. You both hear the shatter and burst into laughter. 

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Noona. You’re an animal, baby,” he says, teasing your wet pussy with the tip of his cock. You give a playful growl before covering your face with embarrassment. Jungwon smiles.

“But I have you. What does that say about you?” you ask him.

“Well, you did try to break me too…” he says, sinking into you. He kisses your ankle, glasses askew. Jungwon immediately starts at a brutal pace. You grab on to anything you can. Hands landing on a couch cushion above your head. “Look at you now. Hmm? I own this pussy.” he groans. “Say it.” Your body is quaking beneath him as your words get tangled up in cries of pleasure. Too close already. 

“Fuuckk, I’m yours. Wonnieee,” you cry out as he fucks you through your orgasm. Jungwon bends over to kiss you, stealing the moans escaping from your mouth.    

All showered up and comfy in pajamas, Jungwon leads you into the kitchen for your birthday cake. “You don’t have to eat it if it’s gross. I tried my best,” he says shyly. You kiss his cheek.

“I know you did Jungwonie.” He lights the candles. You close your eyes tightly to make a wish. There’s not much to wish for. Jungwon has given you everything and more. Love. Happiness. Protection… that’s it. You blow out the candles.

“What did you wish for, baby?” Jungwon smiles, kissing your cheek. You cut into the cake, putting a piece onto a plate before swipe icing off the cake with the knife. Placing the blade on your tongue and slowly licking the icing off while looking into his eyes.

“I wish that no one ever finds out what you did to Kyle,” you say softly.

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

@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx @wildflowermooon @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @emikotakayami @mydearestwonnie @woniesprincess04 @snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark

#yang jungwon #enhypen yang jungwon #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon scenarios #jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x you #jungwon x you #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon hard thoughs #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #enha scenarios #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen au #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #yang jungwon smut #enhypen #enha #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagines

[chaobunnyarts]

Froggy fall! (part 2/3)

9. Spooky forest / Barking tree frog (Dryophytes gratiosus) 10. Hanging ivy / Red-backed poison frog (Ranitomeya reticulata) 11. Candle / Golden mantella (Mantella aurantiaca) 12. Stones + gems / Coronated tree frog (Triprion spinosus) 13. Tea / Amazon milk frog (Trachycephalus resinifictrix) 14. Night sky / Desert rain frog (Breviceps macrops) 15. Harvest / Madagascar tomato frog (Dyscophus antongilii) 16. Plant shelf / American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus)

#froggyfall #frog #frog art #cute frogs

[hollygracesworld]

Falling into your ocean eyes 🌊 | Orm Marius x female reader

part 1 🌊

Warning ⚠️ : enemies to lovers, harsh words.

for the next part ➡️ masterlist

A/N : My first language isn’t English, so I’m sorry if the grammar is wrong a few times. and please be gentle because I haven't even read the comic.

Y/N is a woman of mixed blood. Her mother was a witch, then his father is a King Nereus. That makes her an illegitimate child. Y/N was born 1 year after Mera, which makes them technically sisters. Y/N's mother died mysteriously while giving birth to Y/N. She never met her father in person, but they were connected to each other through her magic.

She knew her father was afraid that his secret of having an illegitimate child would be discovered. Technically it would destroy her father's life and his reputation. To avoid this, her father continued to secretly support Y/N by giving her money as she lived alone on the surface. Even Mera didn't know such a big secret.

Time and time again, Y/N studied magic with the help of various magic books belonging to her mother. She studied the power that existed within her. Dark magic, chaos magic, reality manipulation, etc.

She was sick of hiding on the surface. The only surviving witch descendant from her mother's family was herself. Y/N used to live in an orphanage not far from the coast, but because someone saw her playing with black magic at the age of 16, she was expelled, and since then she has been forced to move around, in the middle of nowhere. Alone. Poor girl.

Even though her hatred to her father is the same as the Oceans, all Y/N wants is love from a family. She had planned all this carefully, and isn’t aggressive.

“Hey,” She heard a man's voice behind her. His face looked fierce and full of suspicion. “What you doin’ in there, Strange-Girl?”

Suddenly the red mist that only existed in her sight disappeared in an instant. Y/N's eyes which were previously bright red turned brown again.

“I don’t know what you talking about.”

Arthur Curry’s looking at her sharply, “I usually don’t give a fuck about what’s a girl like you doing but you seems really strange.”

Y/N was silent as she began to feel the man right in front of her seem to be starting to realize what she was doing. “I know a girl like you seems sweet, innocent, nice, but who knows if you’re actually devil in disguise.”

“I’m sorry, are you drunk, Mr. Curry?”

Arthur Curry laughed out loud, grab his spilled beer, sit next to Y/N and drink it greedily. “You're a foreigner, dressed in foreign clothes, chanting some kind of spell, glowing red eyes, and you know my name. Who the fuck are you?”

“What do you want?” he said clearly. His gaze sharp, almost as if he wanted to finish her off.

“Not your business.” Y/N get up and walk away from the bar.

But not long after that Arthur Curry chased him and spoke loudly, “If you're so obsessed with the ocean, your magic won't be able to withstand what happens down there, Strange-Girl.”

He certainly suspected the girl. He’s not dumb. He knew that Y/N wasn't just any witch. But on the one hand, he didn't want to pay his full attention to the strange witch in front of him. He would make a move if the witch was really acting up.

*******

Y/N closed her eyes, sitting relaxed surrounded by a circle of candles. She keep saying her witchcrafts. Her face was a little sweaty, her eyes closed, then she opened her eyes which were already bright red.

“Shhh, we still have to keep quiet, my dirty naughty witch..” Orm Marius whispered in Y/N's ear while Y/N aggressively kissing Orm’s neck.

“No I want you, my King. I want this so bad.” Y/N touched Orm's lips with a look full of lust. “I hate this armor, I want to hold your naked body again…”

Orm laughed softly, "this is not the right time, my dirty naughty witch. Mera is coming, and our engagement—“

“Shhh, you ruined this moment, my King. You know i want you, more than Mera wants you.” Y/N kept teasing King Orm by kissing his lips.

“I know. But Mera and King Nerius will come to see me soon, they can’t see you here with me, I hope you understand, my darling.” He spoke softly, but Y/N suddenly became very angry hearing his statement.

“You know what? They should see me here! Especially for King Nerius so he would know that his illegitimate child is brave enough to show her face in this fucking Atlantis!!”

Orm Marius, King of Atlantis, woke up from his sleep with his body covered in sweat and his heart beating very fast. Orm immediately meet his vizir, Nuidis Vulko to tell him everything he experienced every time he slept.

“Brown eyes, brown-long-waivy hair, half blood but not an usual human, she’s a Witch-Atlantean.” Orm quickly said this without greeting. Vulko looks really confused what his King talking about.

“King Nereus’s illegitimate child.“

Orm smiled sarcastically and continue, "She’s been bothering me 5 times. Go find her, I think she’s on the surface, because if she lives in here, she doesn’t have to use her magic spell to enter my mind."

Vulko nodded, obeying his King's orders.

“And bring her to me,” Orm said, “I want to fulfill her wish to meet her father, for a little surprise.”

#orm marius #orm marius x reader #aquaman #aquaman 2018 #ocean master #king orm #fanfics #patrick wilson #aquaman and the lost kingdom #dc comics #dc universe #dceu

[shiorimakibawrites]

Alley Cat Masterlist

Image credits: kissmegoodbye.net / Nathan Dumlao / Amber Kipp

Image Description: Matt Murdock as red-suit Daredevil against nighttime city background in one block, Shadowy couple leaning against each other surrounded by candles overlooking a city in second block, under second block is text saying Alley Cat by Shiori_Makiba, the third block is a orange medium haired tabby laying on a table and looking up at the camera playfully.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Summary: A series of interconnected one-shots were a paralegal Reader (and trouble magnet) with an escape artist cat keeps encountering Daredevil, eventually meets Matt Murdock, and falls in love.

Overall Rating: 18+ for canon-typical violence and smut

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, swearing

Also posted on A03 and can be found here.

Please let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list.

Completed Chapters

Part 1 - The First Encounter

Part 2 - The Escape Artist

Part 3 - Pining (Mature)

Part 4 - The Civilian Dilemma

Part 5 - Injury

Part 6 - The Walk Home

Part 7 - Rooftop Dining

Part 8 - Nelson & Murdock

Part 9 - Fantasy (Smut)

Part 10 - The Conversation

Part 11 - The Morning

Part 12 - Anticipation

Part 13 - First Date

Part 14 - Carnal Knowledge (Smut)

Part 15 - The Interrogation

Part 16 - Rollercoaster

Upcoming

Part 17 - ??

Future Chapter List (in no particular order)

Girl Talk

Desert (smupdate)

The Night at the Bar

Miranda Warning

Unlawful Imprisonment

The Patch Job

The Rescue

The Visitor

Betwixt the Sheets (smupdate)

Making Love (smupdate)

Fan Art

Best Damn Avocados coffee mug

#daredevil #fan fic #the alley cat series masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #the alley cat series

[elsfavor1te]

ANGELS WEPT, pt 2

warnings: tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader, hurt/comfort (ellie & joel), no use of ‘y/n’, use of the pet name ‘bug’ & ‘baby’ , ellie reminiscing a lot.. lowercase intended. lmk if i forgot anything

i lowkey hate this. i feel like it’s messy and it doesn’t even really cover anything. hopefully you guys like it more than i do 💔. i highly recommend reading part 1 and 1.5 before this. (linked below.) enjoy <3

part 1 , part 1.5 , part 2.5

ellie couldn’t stand your home anymore. she tried to go back that night, but her first step through the door made her chest tighten in a special suffocating way.

despite her initial instinct to just turn around and wander around a bit longer, she walked in. she was met with the smell of one of the candles you had found one day, still lit from when you left earlier. the smell of sugar and..nectarines wafted through the air.

your jacket thrown over the edge of the couch, the red color of it contrasting against the brown of the couch. she walked further in.

your favorite quilt to cuddle under folded neatly, her fingers gently rubbed over it.

ellie’s drawings that you had especially loved, hung up by magnets you’d found on patrol on your small white refrigerator.

she remembers the way you burst through the door that day, ecstatic over your find.

—————

“els!!” you shouted as you walked in and kicked off your sneakers. “come here!”

her muffled grumble let you know that she was still asleep before you got there. you take out the hair tie that was holding up your high ponytail and shake your hair out.

“i really need to stop putting those in so tight…” you mumbled to yourself, turning on your heels when you heard the low thumping of ellie walking toward the kitchen.

“hi baby, how was patrol?” she asked as she pulled you into her arms. your heart swelled at the pet name you loved so much.

“really good! i got us something.” you gesture toward your backpack sitting on the counter, “how was your sleep? from the way your hair looks right now i’d say really good.”

you couldn’t contain your giggles as ellie flustered, taking the hair tie off the counter that was once in your hair and tying hers back.

“shut up, show me what you got.”

you notice the topic change but you let it slide, of course you wanted to tease more but you really wanted her to see what you found.

“okay okay… drumroll please!” your grin intensified when ellie made a show of patting on her thighs.

you pull the heaping handful of magnets out of the front pocket on your backpack and drop them on the counter. colorful numbers, letters and even a few symbols scattered on the counter.

“ta daaa! now i know it doesn’t seem like much but they’re… uh.. damn i forgot what jesse called them…” you fiddled with one as you tried to remember.

“magnets.” ellie fills in for you.

“yes! magnets. how’d you know?” you tilt your head, once again forgetting not everyone lived in the complete wilderness until 16.

“i-“

you don’t give her time to respond before your rambling again, eyes lit with joy. “look what they do!!” you stick one onto the fridge, turning and clapping when it sticks.

“isn’t that so fucking cool?? jesse says i can hang things with them, like pictures and shit.” you walk back over to ellie, who’d been quiet apart from when she was answering you.

“..do you like them? s’kinda silly now that i th-“

“they’re great bug,” she pulled you in by the loop on your jeans, kissing your cheek. “look i made our initials.”

she pointed her eyes toward the letter for your initial and an E, with a little plus sign in between. you smiled before picking them up and rushing to put them on the fridge.

“i was thinking.. y’know the drawings that you do? my favorite ones that i keep in our room.. maybe we could put a few up on the fridge?” you suggested timidly.

—————

the wind rattling the shutters pulls her from her trance. she rubs her hand down her face, turning away from the fridge and attempting to find something else to focus on.

her eyes catch the small piece of paper on the counter next. even though she knows what it’s gonna say, she picks it up anyway.

“hi my love! hope you sleep slept well. i don’t have patrol but i’m gonna go out on my own today. not going anywhere far just in the woods around to see if i can find some of the plants from that badass book you got me. i’ll be back before lunch!

- love, your girl.”

you weren’t back before lunch though, or after it. that’s what prompted ellie to go searching for you, immediately thinking the worst as usual. it sucks that this time she was right to do so.

she gently places the note back down on the countertop, rubbing at her chest when she feels the ache there. she stands for a moment before mumbling out into the stagnant air, “promise i’m gonna kill every single one of them for doing this to you, baby..”

when ellie feels the tears swelling in her eyes and the lump in her throat she knows she’s had enough. she takes in the downstairs of your home once more before turning and walking back out of the front door.

she sits down on the small bench on the porch, bringing one of her knees to her chest and resting her chin on it. the harsh wind of the night whips against her cheeks making them that rosy color you loved.

her eyes drifted around, looking at the other houses on the block. a few lights on, some off. her eyes close for a second, savoring the tranquility of the windy but otherwise quiet night. when they open again she looks at the stairs leading to your home and frowns slightly at the flowers beginning to lead up, obviously from the other town members.

the sight makes her think of how social you were compared to her, how you made an effort for everyone to like you (and her). how you went to every gathering, remembered every birthday.

ellie rubs her hands against the rugged cloth of the bench cushion in an attempt to ground herself when her eyes begin to burn again. she was sick of crying. she’s cried enough tears for everyone in the world tonight.

her self-soothing is interrupted by the creak of the wooden stairs as joel walks up, holding something in his hands.

he doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the bench, putting the container down between them. “…maria wants me to make sure you’re eating.”

she glances down at the container of food and lets out a hum of acknowledgment. she lets her gaze wander over to the side of joel’s face for a second before dropping her eyes back down toward the fraying edge of her shoelace.

“…i wanna leave tomorrow.” she breaks the silence with her soft but determined words.

joel glances over at her before sighing, “ellie.. to have the guys that we need, to do this smart- and right, we would be leaving jackson vulnerable.”

the only thing heard was the wind rustling the trees and the occasional hooting from an owl as she processed what was said to her.

“..what? fuck that i don’t need any guys. are they just supposed to- to get away with this??” ellie spits out, confusion and anger coating her words.

“you know i don’t want that, nobody in this town wants that.”

“yeah? well i can’t fucking tell.” she grumbles, picking at a loose thread on the bench.

“..you can’t do this on your own. and my age is starting to affect me, we need guys and jackson can’t spare ‘em. what if we get attacked by hunters again, huh?” he tries to reason, to get ellie to understand.

“oh bull- is this maria? or- or tommy?? who the hell has put that shit in your head? you know if it was me or you or- anyone in this fucking place she would be halfway to seattle by now.” her body is fully turned to him now, with an incredulous look on her face.

“ellie- we aren’t even sure they’re in seattle.”

“Washington Liberation Front,” she smacks her hand between each word, accentuating them. “that’s what the fuck was on those patches-“

“those jackets could be stolen, we’re in the middle of a damn apocalypse-“

“that’s not even-“

“what if the WLF moved? you’re not being smart-“

“what the hell is your angle with this?” ellie’s clenched fist slams against the wooden beam attached to the railing of the home.

her question is met with silence in return. her eyes drop to the ground when a tear starts its path down her cheek, she quickly wipes it away. “i don’t know why you’re doing this.. but i’m leaving tomorrow, whether you’re with me or not. you come, great. you don’t? also fine.”

the wind blows particularly hard once she finishes her statement, blowing strands of her hair out of place.

joel runs his hand over his beard, grimacing slightly before responding, just above a mumble. “you don’t know what we’re walking into. we don’t know how big the group is, how armed-“

“i don’t care. she was my-… i don’t care. you’re not talking me out of this.”

he sighs defeatedly, he knew she wasn’t gonna go for this before he even made the journey here. he knows her better than that, but he tried anyway.

“just- just give me a day- or two okay? i’ll talk to maria, there has to be a few people she can spare. just give me some time, kiddo. i’m not letting you do this on your own.”

“..okay.”

joel hesitantly walks toward ellie, pulling her into a hug when he doesn’t sense any objection on her part. his hand finds its way to back of her head, holding her against him. he holds her when her shoulders shake the tiniest bit, he holds her when her knees seem to wanna give out, mostly he holds her because he knows she needs the comfort and maybe- he does too.

“it’s gonna be okay. i’m sorry.” he mumbles into her auburn hair, comforting the best way he knows how.

the moment doesn’t last for long after that, ellie hating to be vulnerable infront of anyone who wasn’t you.

she wipes at her face, stepping back a bit from joel. “i forgive you.. for.. y’know. she wanted me too. we were supposed to invite you for a movie tomorrow night.”

his heart clenched in his chest at the thought of one more movie night. one more day with just the 3 of you. his girls.

“so yeah.. s’okay. i understand why you did it now. i just- wish you would’ve been honest with me. i wish i didn’t have to find out in any way other than you telling me.”

he hums, hand clenching and unclenching. “i knew you would’ve been pissed. i know how bad you wanted it but i- i couldn’t.”

ellie sighs. she doesn’t wanna talk about it anymore, she doesn’t wanna talk about what could’ve been, she doesn’t wanna talk at all really.

“okay.. well i’m gonna go. i’ll let you know as soon as i get the okay from maria, she can be stubborn but she loved her just as much as we did.” he nods as a form of goodbye before turning and disappearing into the distance.

#mimi writes! ꕥ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #ellie williams fic #joel and ellie #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams x fem!reader #joel miller #tlou hbo #bella ramsey #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #pedro pascal #tlou series #ellie x reader #ellie williams x y/n #joel tlou #joel miller fic #dad joel #joel the last of us #ANGELSWEPT #i hate this #ellie williams smut

[twst-kumi]

Weeping Maiden's dorm part 1

Here we go, the first part of the RSA dorm and its members. I will post the last three dorms and the staff after Chapter 2.

If you have any questions about any characters, feel free to ask. I would be happy to answer it.

Royaldawn Dormitory :

[Name] Yamada, she has similar feature from her brother but is seen as the pretty siblings. She was a child actor in her childhood to middle school.

Flora, she is Royaldawn Dormitory's self designated housekeeper. She love [Name] greatly as she remind her of her godchild Briar rose. She is obsessed with pink.

Apple Red :

Dorm leader

Neige Leblanche

17

Sophomore

Unique magic: True love kiss

Homeland: Shaftland

Vice leader

Ash Blueglass

18

Junior

Unique magic: midnight clock

Homeland: Shaftland

Belle-rose :

Dormleader

Henry Beaumont

19

Senior

Unique magic: Tale as old as time

Homeland: Fleur city

Vice leader

Candle Jr Rocktail

19

Senior

Unique magic: Showtime

Homeland: Fleur city

Dorm members :

Endy Stirling

17

Sophomore

Unique magic: Make-believe

Homeland: Clock town

Aurelius Dreamscape

16

Freshman

Unique magic: Once upon a dream

Homeland: Briar Valley

Whitecourt

Dormleader

Chess White

19

Senior

Unique magic: Wishful thinking

Homeland: Queendom of rose

Vice leader

Mercury Hat

20

Senior

Unique magic: 10/6

Homeland: Queendom of rose

Dorm members:

Jack Rabbit

18

Junior

Unique magic: Tick-tock clock

Homeland: Queendom of rose

Che'nya

18

Junior

Unique magic: Sneaky cat

Homeland: Queendom of rose

Alexis Lewis

16

Freshman

Unique magic: Eat me, drink me

Homeland: Queendom of rose

Kingsword

Dormleader:

Zhen YongWei

19

Senior

Unique magic: For our honor

Homeland: Empire of the Dragon (Far East)

Vice leader:

Mu Chen

215

Senior

Unique magic: Dancing dragon

Homeland: Empire of the Dragon (Far East)

Dorm members:

Heric Jupiter

17

Sophomore

Unique magic: Beyond the distance

Homeland: Island of hope

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #rsa oc #twst rsa #malleus draconia #deuce spade #leona kingscholar #twst x reader #floyd leech #yandere leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi x reader #royal sword academy #ace trappola #divus crewel #diasomnia #twst deuce #twisted wonderland deuce #riddle rosehearts #neige leblanche #chen'ya #disney #sleeping beauty

[traineecryptid]

DMBJ Web Film: Reality Control Unit (Part 2)

Creature data as posted by the official NPSS Weibo account.

DMBJ Web Film: Reality Control Unit (Part 1) Other web films in the works Translated by @traineecryptid Google document with posts in both Part 1 and Part 2

Source

Nanpai Sanshu (+Follow) 23-10-21 Posted from Zhejiang From iPhone 13 Pro Max Where do strange creatures go? Nagas, Flying Night Ghost and subdued creatures have actually been locked up in Xie Yuchen’s secret base—The Reality Control Unit. The function of this secret unit, the people involved in this plan and other layers of mysteries await their resolution, please look forward to it.

(left) Reality Control Unit (right) Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection (bottom middle) RCU, Reality Control Unit

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 16/09/2023 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: W22202 Name: Flying Night Ghost Level: Level 3 Place of birth: Mong[redacted], Gobi Description: A type of nonhuman creature that was created by Jin-era Daoist scholars using [redacted]. It grows quickly. Initially about the size of an eyeball, it can grow to look like a human within a few hours. But it differs from humans with its many heads that have strange childlike faces and a pair of feathered wings. It moves quickly, possesses great strength and has a great ability to [redacted] making it hard to kill.  NO. W22202 Agent: Wu Xie Administrator: Li Cu Control measure: 004 Regular Observation Room Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: [redacted] Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: [C]B1130N Name: Zhu Jiu Yin Level: [redacted] Place of birth: [redacted] Description: A type of extremely large poisonous snake that was born during ancient times. It lives very deep underground and was known as “Candle Dragon” in the olden days. The fat within the Zhu Jiu Yin’s body is highly flammable and was rendered into oils to make candles for light in the Emperor Shun era. The scales of the Zhu Jiu Yin is very small but hardy, making it incredibly impervious to attacks. The Zhu Jiu Yin’s eyes are horizontal and purple in color while its Yin eye is blood red in color. Legend has it that a thousand year old Zhu Jiu Yin’s Yin eye is connected to hell, and a glance from it would cause a person to be possessed by evil spirits. After some time, the person would  become a type of creature with the head of a human but the body of a snake. [C]B113ON Agent: Qi [redacted] Administrator: Yang Hao Control measure: C010 Large Underground Vivarium Cavity Notes: Disclosure of its existence is strictly prohibited. Reality Control Unit Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 11/12/2007 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: B11505 Name: Wild Chicken’s Neck Level: Level 3 Place of birth: Tamutuo Description: Some legends say that this type of snake are “little dragons” that live along the dragon veins in the mountains and rivers. There are also other legends saying that they are snake spirits that occupy the areas above the dragon veins. They are the emperors of snakes, inciting fear in other snake species. Wild Chicken’s Necks are as thick as a person’s wrist and fiery red all over. The snake’s head is sharply triangular in shape with a chicken crest on top. They can [redacted] and would often crow like a rooster. Wild Chicken’s Necks can fly flat on the ground, their movements are swift as lighting and they are extremely poisonous to the extent that no grass would grow where they have been. They are social animals and would enact revenge in groups. NO. B11505 Agent: Zhang Qiling Administrator: Yang Hao Control measure: 012 Isolation Room Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 28/10/2023 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: W22301 Name: Fog Deity Level: Level 2 Place of birth: Wumulei Description: A deity of great fog in the Wumulei mountain region. It wears a two-winged hat guan on its head and a red robe with talisman calligraphy on its body. It is shaped like a red clothed Nuo folk religion god with a ghostly posture and a fierce appearance. It often enters the Stone Room in the Black Gold Ancient Hall and would appear and disappear along with the fog. When it appears, it would plunder and kill people and animals, leaving any area that it has been devoid of life. It [redacted] causing [redacted] and it has a strong ability to propagate, making it indestructible.  NO. W22301 Agent: Wu Xie Administrator: Yang Hao Control measure: 005 Training Room Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 19/07/2017 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: B11801 Name: Miluotuo Level: Level 1 Place of birth: Banai Description: A type of creature that was bred and kept by the Yao people in the ancient times. Its entire body is green like a piece of jade. It is sensitive towards [redacted] and its attacks are very powerful. Miluotuo moves by corroding rocks and consumes any living thing that it can catch as food. It hunts by sealing crevices and caves with its secretions, trapping the prey until they die and consuming the corpses afterwards. It is afraid of volcanic rocks and strong alkali. [redacted] NO. B11801 Agent: Wu Xie Administrator: Zhang Qiling Control measure: 111 Strong Alkali Airtight Cabin Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 02/04/2013 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: B11103 Name: Nine Headed Snake Cypress Level: Level 1 Place of birth: Lu [redacted] Description: A type of huge tree that has countless vines as thick as telephone poles wound around it. Its vines are like little green hands, being very agile. When it hunts, the vines would rear up like snakes, the ends unfurling like ghost hands and can [redacted]. They usually trap their prey to death but do not possess the ability to kill and digest the prey. Thus, it formed a symbiotic relationship with Shi[redacted] and other beetle type insects.  NO. B11103 Agent: Wu Xie Administrator: Li Cu Control measure: Number 101 Tianxin Rock Covered Layer Box Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 01/09/2007 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: B11202 Name: Sea Monkey Level: Level 2 Place of birth: [redacted] Description: A type of human creature that lives in [redacted]. They have an unquellable hostility towards other living beings, attacking viciously and harboring immense sense of revenge. They are very large in size and covered in sharp scales. Their agility and strength far outweighs those of a regular human. Fears [redacted]. Are able to think to a certain extent. NO. B11202 Agent: Wu Xie Administrator: Li Cu Control measure: 003 Regular Observation Room Reality Control Unit Notes: None Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Reality Control Unit, RCU Collected Storage date: 04/11/2022 Activity levels: [redacted] Case file number: W22101 Name: Nagas Level: Level 3 Place of birth: Mumaru Description: Nagas means “a thing that is impossible to exist.’ It is a type of large, soft-bodied creature living in [redacted]. It has many tentacles and is covered in slime all over. Nagas has many tentacles that have suckers on the undersides, allowing them to stick to or trap living beings. The ends of its tentacles are sharp and curl inwards. They will slither like snakes and are good at disguising themselves on land. Nagas primarily identifies its prey’s location by [redacted]. Nagas has a certain level of sentience.  NO. W22101 Agent: Xie Yuchen Administrator: Qi [redacted] Control measure: After Experiment S03, Nagas is able to understand commands. It will be trained to be the protector of this institution. Notes: Special permission has been approved Reality Control Unit Xie Yuchen’s extraordinary collection

Note: I've translated the text to match the source as closely as possible instead of doing it in a more localised way. Feel free to ask what certain terms mean, I will edit this post to include the explanation and add an explanation section to the gdocs for the answers.

#dmbj #my organisation brain is soothed #long post #some images might be creepy? #the fog deity one creeped me out so much that i had to put like a pop up video of singers over it hahahahahaah

[redpanther23]

second autobiographical essay below

The first sixteen years of my life I spent with my mom, and they were honestly the motherfucking worst.

My mom met my step dad larping when I was about 2, he was 16, and she was 26. She got pregnant, they got married, and he started sexually abusing me right away. When my brother was born, I couldn't stand him and was a complete cunt to him (sorry dude, I was a kid and I didn't know better.)

When I started school, I struggled to focus and did very poorly, and my mom and step dad would beat me and take all my things out of my room except for furniture, and lock me in there except to use the bathroom, for months on end, until they thought my grades were good enough. My step dad would come into my room at night and touch me. He would also jump out at me around corners and "wrestle" with me (pretending to wrestle for fun so he could squeeze my tits.) I would struggle and yell, and bite him as hard as I could, and my mom would punish me for hurting him. Sometimes he would do it in front of her, and when I complained to her, she would call me a liar. (His name again: Rigel Cameron Freeman.)

We moved pretty much every year because my parents struggled to maintain jobs. Mainly we lived in different parts of Gainesville, Florida, but we also briefly lived in Raleigh, North Carolina. At school I was usually the only non Christian kid, and I was a complete asshole because my family life was so horrible, so no one liked me and I was bullied constantly. I spent a lot of time in class, and all my time at recess, drawing and making up imaginary friends, or reading books about talking cats (I was very misanthropic, something I still struggle with.) When I was in late elementary to middle school, I made a few friends I still talk to. That was also the same time as my first suicide attempt (5th grade), and when I started self harming.

When I was 12 I dyed my hair red, and my friend's dad named me Red (their family were Irish and Cherokee.) I had been called lots of other names before that, basically something different by each relative, and the only thing everyone could agree on was that none of them suited me (and no one ever called me my government name.) After I was named Red, I dyed my hair every other color you can think of, but my name has stayed the same.

The same year, I moved to Miami, and that began a new isolated phase in my life that led to me becoming interested in magick. My mom had never lived in a major city before, and we ended up moving to a pretty sketchy neighborhood (gunshots almost every night, drive bys, etc.) In our home country (Mississippi) kids are simply expected to fend for themselves outdoors until supper. Now that I was trapped inside with my incredibly abusive family, I had nothing to turn to but the internet (something I'm sure many of us here can relate to.)

I became interested in magic through mythology. I had always found other pre-Christian cultures fascinating, since I wasn't allowed to learn anything about my own, and I discovered through Wikipedia and Google searches that people still practiced the pagan European religions of my ancestors. Through neopaganism, I began to learn about ceremonial magic extremely quickly, feeling as though it was the one piece of my life I'd been missing, finding that I had an innate understanding of something other than visual art for the first time. It wasn't long before I was ready to try my first invocation. I had always wondered if I had a "spirit animal," or a guide, which I knew must be part of my subconscious, and recognizing immediately that I could use ritual meditation to access this, I crafted my first ritual based on some uninitiated wiccan articles I had been reading, and what implements I had laying around. I set out a circle of stones, invoked the four quadrants with a candle at each cardinal direction, laid out offerings of oil, salt, and water, lit an incense cone, and two additional candles for the Mother and Father. My practice is very different now, but my results at the time were extraordinarily intense. When I closed my eyes, this is what I saw:

Dense forest, high on the mountain. It's foggy and overcast, but it's summertime. The rocks are covered with moss, thick and green. I look down at my sandy brown forepaws and know that I am a panther. I begin to stroll, and I can feel the power in my muscles. I'm strong and free.

I opened my eyes, and was back in my bedroom, surrounded by rocks and candles. Shortly afterward, my mom mentioned Scott Panther to me for the first time (I didn't remember meeting him as a baby.) I'm sure it will confuse some that my first experience with a native archetype, my family animal, was through a European style ritual. Hey, think how I feel! I should have been able to take peyote and meet a mountain lion face to face to earn my name, like any decent person. Unfortunately, since I was so isolated, I didn't have the privilage. My connection to the panther is extremely deep - some of my first dreams were of being a cat, and the first time I prayed (age 8) it was to "StarClan," which, for the uninitiated, is the clan of dead cats who live in the sky in the children's book series Warrior Cats (I still like to think my cat ancestors are up there watching.) I've always studied cat behavior and embodied cat energy, even before I had any vision, but in my life that was treated as something annoying and strange by the people around me, rather than the sacred mystical practice it was. When I had cats in my life, I prioritized them, often over my own health and safety. Even though I only have a dog now, I still consider cats to be my teachers. I can't say whether my conceptualization of reality and my experiences is native, or European, but I would guess it's a mix of both, like me.

I started high school at MAST Academy in Miami, a school for "future scientists." My family always discouraged me from drawing or playing music, often my instruments would be taken away or sold, or I would have nothing but lined notebook paper to draw on (I would only get things I needed for school.) Since all I had to decide a "career" on was my passion for non-human animals, I thought I might be a zoologist. It was a lot less horrible than most other high schools in a lot of ways, and a few of the teachers even treated me like a person (cheers.) I started visiting my dad a little during this period, he began teaching me about Jewish mysticism and Kaballah, what little I could understand, and I began to read from his collection of books on magick and the occult.

During my second year of high school, my mom and step dad moved to the Netherlands, and brought me with them. I was too young and shy (scared) to have any fun, and I just thought about suicide constantly. My mom would never stop yelling at me about everything, telling me how l worthless I am. I caught my step dad taking pictures of me as I got out of the shower, and my little brother told me he caught him watching me sleep through the window over my bedroom door (you could stand at the top of the stairs and look right through it.) I became paranoid he was going to start raping me again, like he did when I was younger, and slept with a knife beside me, when I could sleep. (Again, his name is Rigel Cameron Freeman, and he is a computer programmer who works in the video game industry.)

The only positive part of my life during this period was an online death cult I joined, called Les Fleurs de la Mort. I can't talk about our practices in detail, but it lead me to get really into gardening, which was probably the healthiest possible pastime for me. I don't think I've spoken to any of my fellow Fleurists in years, but if any y'all are reading this, meow.

After I turned 16, I got the chance to visit my dad back in Miami (court ordered), and I refused to return to my mom. I haven't heard from my mom or step dad since then, except for a handful of extremely rude emails from my mom before covid, and I hope that's the end of it.

Rigel Cameron Freeman, the pedophile who made my life hell and molested me constantly throughout my childhood, currently has sole custody of my youngest sibling, who's 9. (He was born after I left, and we've never met.)

#red panther speaks

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 28

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Thalina POV

Words: 1646

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

Thalina always lit a candle for (y/n) as she was carried in the gentle arms of sleep. The flicker that accompanied the playful shadows behind it would surely keep her safe from harm.

“Sweet dreams, (y/n).” Thalina smiled and with a delicate touch closed the door. Behind her was the disapproving mug of the septa that Queen Rhaella had employed for the young (y/n). “Is something wrong?”

“You should put out that candle. What if caught on something and lit the whole room aflame? Prince Rhaegar would be sure that your punishment is severe for such a thing.”

Such a hooked nose, this one has. Thalina thought to herself all the while Septa Agostina spieled on about the dangers of fire as if she didn’t know already.

Continuing to keep her smile of honey and dew, Thalina nods. “I hear your concerns. But you don’t have to worry.”

That seemed to irritate the old crone even more but as she was about to spit something out, a maid scurries to push the septa ahead. Septa Agostina grumbled and shook her head.

They weren’t completely out of Thalina’s ear shot when they began to whisper.

“She is from Volantis. They have different customs than us.” the maid tries to soothe the red cheeked septa.

“Bunch of heathens they are worshipping false gods.”

Ah. Didn’t everyone believe their god was the one true god? And how did they know if she worshipped the Westerosi gods or not. Small minds, Thalina had to remind herself, are afraid of what they have not experienced out of the comfortability of their cages. More than likely neither of them had ever traveled to the beautiful land of Essos and visited Volantis. It was true that crime was rampant through the slums but what major society didn’t have such?

All she could do was sigh and continue to her room.

She missed home.

The beautiful sunrises and sunsets that she could see from her narrow window were so vibrant. Most days on Dragonstone consisted of clouds and gray. A chill prevalent in the air that had made (y/n) catch a cold many times. There was no beauty to the small island of Dragonstone. No matter. Thalina wasn’t there for the beautiful landscapes. She had an important duty ahead of her.

Once in her room she makes sure to snap the lock shut. Normally the doors of servants didn’t have locks. Faster access to them if there was an emergency. Thalina installed one herself. She possessed such items that could not be seen by anyone else.

Bed frame pulled out a few centimeters, she thrust her arm into the space between bed and wall. Fingers wiggled and searched desperately for a latch that opened a trapdoor below. The latch was in the most inconvenient place she could think of. Somewhere no one would immediately guess. Thalina bit her lip until finally finger tips bumped into cold metal. Strained grin, she tugs it then rolls off her bed and onto the floor. Belly pressed firmly against the floor panels, she crawls underneath her bed and slides open the now unlocked trapdoor. So much effort for a seemingly normal box. Soon, it would contain the most precious thing in the world.

She slipped a few times on her way up to Dragonmont. The ancient volcano which gave rise to the island of Dragonstone was still active as was evident by the lazy, pale, gray smoke that danced upward.

“Dovodedha hae mirre.” Clumsy as ever. Thalina laughed tiredly to herself. The hike up was tiresome and her knee still ached from her most recent fall. The rotten smell of sulfur stung her nose and she knew her hair would be reeking of it when she returned.

Hopefully her efforts wouldn’t be in vain. Even now she still doubted her visions she saw in the flames. What if they were wrong?

“No!” Thalina hisses and stops to literally shake her head free of such thoughts. She couldn’t think like that. Times like that she wished Rhiannon had been allowed to go at her to Westeros. Rhiannon was always so confident. As a child Thalina had hated that about her. It made her that much harder to get under control. In those early days, Thalina was both mother and sister to Rhiannon. Often the two roles clashed and caused Thalina to constantly doubt herself on how she was raising Rhiannon. A daunting task for any young child. She wouldn’t have had it any other way though. There were times before finding the Red Temple where both would be aching from hunger, Thalina had contemplated on sending little Rhiannon to an orphanage. Perhaps she would have a better chance there than out in the street. Uncomfortable with the idea of anyone else raising her sister it was a thought that was easily discarded. They would be together through thick and thin.

Except for now.

Panting, Thalina gazes up at the looming volcano. “Rhiannon, lend me your strength little sister.”

And as if somewhere in Essos Rhiannon did indeed hear her older sister’s plea, Thalina felt her body revitalized. Off to the side of Dragonmont was a hardly used path that led to the other side of the volcano base. In the legends that Queen Rhaella told (y/n) and Viserys that was where the dragons bred and protected their eggs.

And she knew from having scouted the volcano before of the entrance on the other side that leads inside. The walls of the inside were black and shimmered when the light of her torch touched them. Dragonglass. Thalina had yet to explore the rest of the volcanic cave’s various tunnels. Now that she had completed her puzzle box, there was no more excuse for not investigating them.

An opal she had seen in her marigold visions in the flames. Large with scales etched into it.

“I know you’re in here.” Her whisper bounces back to her as she steps inside of the cave. Eerily quiet it offers her a strange sense of calm that settled her beating heart. When she had searched every nook and cranny of Dragonstone, discouragement often found her. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. As clumsy as she was, Thalina was shockingly stealthy and able to get into any room without being seen. She left no clues of her clandestine visits. Still she had found nothing. One would think that with Aerys’ new fervor of trying to hatch a dragon that there would be at least some locked up in secret. From cellar to dungeons, from Sea Dragon Tower to the Windwyrm. Only dragon statues could be found with open mouths in mocking. After months of nothing, Thalina found her answer during a session of fire reading. It seemed so simple, how had she not thought of the volcano before? Not many people travel that way. A tough terrain, it proves difficult to reach the top let alone proceed to the other side. The only other way would be to travel by boat. Remote with no one having interest in it. A perfect place to search next.

Hours of weaving in and out of tunnels, at least that’s how long Thalina thought it was, Thalina had been able to make a rough rudimentary map of the caves. Her job was done at least for the night. She gathered up her red string that she had been using to prevent her from getting lost.

Sweat had become tacky on her face when she finally got back to the castle. She reached for one of her braids and inhaled. As she had feared it held the faint smell of smoke and sulfur. Grimacing, she would have to sleep with that smell until the morning. It would be too odd if someone were to encounter her that late.

On her path back to her room, Thalina had an itch that she should at least poke her head into (y/n)’s room to see how her little lady was doing. The sweet girl had a tendency to suffer from them. She never spoke about them though. Not even when they reduced her to searching out her maid for comfort. Thalina wished she could look into (y/n)’s nightmares the same way she did with flames.

The little candle had probably gone out some time ago, leaving a small wax stub. Blue moonbeams offer her an even more pleasant source of light.

She hadn’t meant to wake her up when she stepped a foot inside, making a floorboard creek. She had just wanted to see if (y/n) was sleeping peacefully for when she did her face was the purest thing in the world.

Her drowsy head twirls up in a sleepy haze but her eyes cleared up in moments and she realized who it was. “Thalina?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, my lady. I just wanted to check on you.”

“It’s okay.” She said in mid-yawn. Her head plopped back down to her pillow. “But since you’re here. . . Can you tell me another story so I can go back to bed?”

“Of course.” Softly chirped the maid and made the rest of her way to (y/n)’s bedside. Perfectly perched, her hand drifts over (y/n)’s bangs that were splayed on her forehead. “What story should I tell you? Another one of the ancient Targaryen rulers?” (y/n) shook her head. “No? What about the Age of Heroes?” Again, (y/n) shook her head. For (y/n), Thalina put on a fake hard-thinking face. “Alright, I’ll tell you a story that has not yet happened.”

“Not yet happened?”

She nods. “I will tell you the story of a champion that will one day stop an evil force that wreaks havoc on our world. She will bring fire to a land of ice and snow.” In a conspirating manner, she leans in close to (y/n)’s ear. “With the help of dragons.”

Taglist:@boywivlove@esposadomd@domoron@yentroucnagol@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan@bregarc

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fandom #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfic #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones reader insert #asoiaf fic #asoiaf reader insert #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #a song of ice and fire x you #a song of ice and fire x reader #a song of ice and fire

[sugar-petals]

sub!𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 🌹║ 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠  𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 

↳ smut A-Z / 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】› smut/angst/fluff + monaco gp au

【 ♥ pairing.】charles x reader

words. 🍒 16k — bc 16 is a good number :)

WARNINGS/TAGS. ⚠️ 18+ (mdni), pwp, sub charles oh là là, bondage, femdom + vanilla dynamics, face sitting, suits kink, protected sex, pegging, anal play, masochism, oral, multiple sex partners mention, alcohol mention, French language kink who knew

↳ [ // 🍓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] i like my alphabets long with feelings and sub plots: pun intended 😂 you’ll find parts that are romantic, sad & horny, the rest is fun, now let’s get into it. 🍌

posted: july 7, 2022

【 read it on AO3 】

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

One of the best parts of sex, he’s one sucker for you. Charles loves getting aftercare so much, ending up lost in your eyes because he can’t help it. Jeez, his cuddliness. And god, he smells so good. Charles is blushy, and he’s and clingy, and he talks so much. Face buried in your hoodie kind of affectionate. It always has you wondering, why does Charles love me so much, why does he act this way, like a literal puppy. But he just likes being looked after this way after he satisfied you. Behind all those layers of ambition and stress, there is only needy and dependent Charles left — he won’t lie about it.

In contrast to him, you keep it efficient. And relatively short, never exceeding 20 minutes, but it’s oh so vital. Less is more sometimes. A glass of water for Charles and he feels refreshed: „Merci beaucoup, mon rêve.“ — he calls you `my dream´ very often. A little lotion on his back and legs is just as quick, and he’s ready to sleep. Lighting some incense, candles, or bringing him a big cup of tea. Putting on a vintage movie on a beamer and just embracing to snuggle, barely listening to the dialogue in the background since you turned down the volume deliberately. If you denied your darling pillow prince his orgasm earlier, you will gently suck him off now, sloppy enough for little bubbles to start forming around your lips. You make sure your favorite blue-white cotton duvet is within reach just like towels. Gotta stay warm and covered afterwards.

On other days, you like to go the extra mile. You switch on the big red popcorn machine or make some light pink cotton candy. Cherry flavored, of course. His mom always gifts him these fancy kitchen machines for fun, but she’s right: More delicious things for Charles. His secret sweet tooth is actually adorable. Ferrari’s dietician comes for Charles, but not for you, so this is the ultimate loophole. Charles and his cotton candy have become inseparable. He just loves to pull those fuzzy strings out of the `main cloud´ as he calls it. Or, laughs his ass off when his lashes get caught in it. They’re so long, how can he blame `em.

Dose of head pats, lots of water chugging — no coffee, rule of the house. As a wise British prophet (King Lewis the 44th) once said: Coffee is disgusting! You’re keeping it healthy, Charles he wants to sleep tight in your arms later, after all. Instead, sweat wiping. Forehead kisses. Snack bars. Charles needs a quick fix here and there. But he’s very relieved of some heavy stress, and very smiley. You feel content and proud, but usually not with a weight off your shoulders since there was hardly any to begin with. You’re with Charles, your everything. Your angel and treasure, and your beauty. Just looking at his friendly face once can suffice to destress for three days in a row. If you do the math: Looking at him ten times equals one month without tribulations. That’s the energy.

What’s absolutely expected: He appreciates your idea to run a bath after sex recently. This man might as well live in the tub permanently. „Grown any gills yet?“ — a frequent favorite quip of yours. Maybe he should pin wheels to the whole thing, paint it red, and roll up at the starting grid with this next-generation Ferrari. Nickname: The Merman of Maranello. Nothing else on but some yellow trunks and shiny designer shades. He’s gonna win a Championship with that in no time. New Ferrari Masterplan unlocked: Charles drives his bathtub to P1. But anyway, we digress. Aftercare.

Charles loves to be bathed and lathered in jasmine shampoo. You like to shave him when he’s covered in foam like that. His axilla, chest, or neck, just because the sound is satisfying and Charles enjoys this type of personal attention. Aftercare with Charles Leclerc can turn anyone into a soft domme or service top. You take your extra time to towel him down bit by bit, and make him feel luxurious in a way that even his salary can’t. You will admit to Charles that you like to pamper him, and that makes him give you a very sheepish look. Is he flustered? Yes, he is.

Aftercare is filled with conversation. You know how he can suddenly talk like a waterfall, lots of exclamations and dramatique expressions? That’s exactly the atmosphere. Free-flowing chats. Charles talks about himself in 3rd person pretty often, which is cute. Little spoon all the way, too, this guy is like a human kitten. Likes to suck on your fingers with a cheeky, blissed-out expression. It’s a go-to favorite to calm himself a little and to have his lips busy on you. Definitely an aftercare hugger rather than a direct kisser. He wants to breathe deeply now. And be softly tickled, it’s perfect to make him laugh. The sweet bun, no wonder his name rhymes with éclair.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As far as you observed him at the bathroom sink, Charles is super into his hair recently. He’s trying out new products, often things you bought him as a casual gift to spoil your honey boy. It’s the personalized things that make Charles feel special to you. Since last month, he talks about how much shine and definition he can achieve. The helmet ruins his whole effort in one go, but he’s trying. Even consulting his barber on it. Always learning from the professionals.

As for his body as a whole. He’s still not admitting to his height, but at one point you said, silence bottom. You look good. You look nice. You’re a cutie pie. Head to toe. The whole world likes you. And you’re serious, because the entirety of your boyfriend is more important than whether he towers over you or not. He’s compact and huggable, what’s not to like. He got everything to hold on to, the arms, the shoulders. Even his pecs are growing nowadays, those tight white shirts look damn good on him. Wet t-shirt contest when? Father, son, and the house of Ferrari: That sight would be mindblowing.

People think his appeal is mysterious. To you, Charles’ handsomeness can be explained in simple terms. Everything about him is pleasant. That photogenic masterpiece, look at him. The Orlando Bloom of Formula 1. Any angle does him good. His way of coming across, his speaking, his gaze, his humor, his smile. All pleasant. Nothing upsets the ear, the eye. He is polite, he is pretty, with the exact amount of being gorgeously sexy on top. His face is banging, his body is shapely, what more does anyone need. That he’s often a little confused without even intending to just adds to his overall charm.

Being good with people is the cherry on top. Charles having a hundred social graces and winning people over with a simple „could you please repeat the question, sorry“ — I mean come on. The thing is. If you put him next to a Men’s Health magazine cover, he probably won’t meet whatever white guy beauty standards of the time, in whatever circles, whatever trend it is now. He’s not carrying around a 10-pack, he’s not a 6’3 spaghetti noodle, and doesn’t crank out an itty bitty waist either. Your man’s neck looks like he got it from a different person. And yet— Charles is the ultimate magnet. What is it?

Oh honey… it’s the demeanor. People so crucially forget his ways of expression factoring in. Charles’ body language. Why does nobody ever mention that. It’s very readable. That makes someone so easy to approach and like. You love his mannerisms and point them out often. Charles is always surprised he’s even doing these things. This guy even shifts from one foot to the other like he’s dancing 24/7, so. Even more attractiveness points.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Plays with it using the tips of his godly fingers when he gets you off in the evening — “Oh my god. You’re incredibly wet.” His job is all about working with his hands all day, every day, after all, finding the right buttons. So, Charles got that down, rest assured.

Loves the sounds, loves to make you cum slowly but surely, calling you oh mon amour while doing so. Prepare for his hooded bedroom eyes and him licking off his fingers like it’s icing. His hand coordination… it’s criminally insane what this guy can do with your clit. I believe it’s magic. Charles is an epicure but also a loverboy, he does all of this without expecting you to do anything in return. Just lean back and enjoy.

Meanwhile. Brace yourself, Monsieur. You have some other plans when the mood is right. Charles is definitely up against a caliber here. Your latest fantasy is ruining one of his ultra-expensive Italian suits with some crazy debauchery. Jacking him off in all directions, no mercy. And squatting down naked on top of a very clothed him, Charles wearing a silky blindfold for good measure. His suits make you turned-on beyond all reason. It’s custom, the cut clings to his million-dollar body like satin. The material of his clothing somehow gets drenched in your spit and drool as well — I wonder how that could happen.

To make it worse, you deliciously eat slices of watermelon while sitting on his face. Choking him out by pulling at his black tie, all without a care in the world where the melon juice will drip and dry. Feeding him with another slice is step two, just to see it all flow down his cheeks and chin. Charles can clearly feel his collar being soaked, but there’s only so much he can do. The blindfold is perfect because not only deprives it Charles from knowing what you do, but it also makes for a good reaction face once he sees the result.

Yeah, I know. This poor `innocent´ guy getting a full 69 treatment. Although you have to say, Charles is definitely rising up to a challenge here. Who of these other drivers currently has his face full of pussy, does breath play level expert, gets waterboarded by a sticky summer fruit, and tries not to cum from getting his dick French kissed and drooled across. Sounds fun, but from a sub’s perspective, that’s actually demanding. Multi-task legend.

Part of your fantasy is Charles whining about the ruin of said suit until it is born again after a thorough laundry. The next day, as per your text decree, he has to wear the whole thing on the paddock. No excuses. Distinctly Italian shoes with laces and glossy coating included, even if it’s not the red carpet. Charles rises to the occasion, he keeps his promise. Time to strut some golden pinstripes down the runway, baby. Wearing a slutty turtleneck underneath the tux, which almost explodes at the seams because his neck just won’t fit. Even Mister classic suits king George Russell will have to pick up his jaw from the concrete when Charles will walk, no, float along.

Jesus is the whole thing fitted. Literally so tight around the ass and shoulders. Gotta raise the fashion morale among the younger drivers and inspire more men to be a suits hoe. And the best thing? You like the fact that he’ll only think about last night while wearing it, constantly checking his body as if the evidence was still there. He concurs you have him beat with outrageous ideas, and managed to successfully corrupt him. Just to be sure, though: His racing suit is off-limits. But yep. The media will go wild and Charles’ beauty will break the F1 Internet. Nobody suspects what happened before the detergent.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This cute lil’ mouse really is one of the most toppable drivers on the grid. Yes, I hear the crowd: Besides Mister Norris (Formula 1’s undisputed HSIC — Head Sub In Charge) and Monsieur Gasly. Gotta be precise and honor Charles’ contemporaries. An absolute dark horse sub is none other than Valtteri, but the world is not ready for that discussion yet. Maybe his booty portrait will pave the way among a 30+ audience. In any case. Charles got a certain hard sub flavor to him. That’s right. His luxury twink face and cotton candy antics deceive. He likes a strong grip on him. His dirty secret really is how far he is willing to go to submit.

He’s not as easy as Pierre on his own soft limits. Pierre is more playful and loves a good niche fetish that nobody heard of. Charles, completely different. What on earth is a soft limit! He doesn’t want to put anything on a `try…maybe…´ list. Too tentative. He either goes for it or not. „I can do it“ is a frequent agreement. Aftercare is mellow, but your man definitely has a streak of wanting to be steadfast and likes your topping more abrasive and immediate than not.

Really letting go is his unspoken sexual dream. It’s something every good driver wishes to achieve in their car, so of course, he wants to know how that applies to him in bed. Charles’ secret desire is to be tenacious when he’s in pain. No half-assed domination on your part. The real fucking deal. Red stripes on skin, everything. Charles is the quintessential masochist, you can smell that from across the Shanghai straight. And that straight is long as hell.

Charles has no intent of taking his frustrations out on you. He puts a lot of his stress into neck training, and his stamina, but he would feel bad using his strength to dominate you to the bone and make you writhe. He just can’t. Sure, Charles knows what he wants (…for the most part), but that doesn’t entail hanging you from the ceiling by one ankle. Vice versa, if you talk to him about trying a bondage suspension, however— You might awaken a curiosity. When it comes down to it, he has no qualms.

After thinking about it a lot, you realized there was a convincing reason for his secret. In his life of racing and competing, being steadfast? That’s often impossible for him. Racing is messy, sudden, direct, and fleeting. In bed, Charles can surrender and endure as much as he like. On the one hand, he can prove that he can take it all. On the other hand, he does not have to worry about getting things under his control. Subbing is his unexpected perfect match, even if he might only be half-aware, or not confident enough to go full BDSM at the beginning of your relationship. He still needs and wants to be taught.

One of his dream scenarios is this. Your kitty cat, classy but nasty he is, wants to be groped while he’s playing the piano. The bench is elongated enough for two people. His thighs and crotch are right there. So, while he’s playing you a little piece, Charles’ expression is kind of like „just do something really inappropriate“. And aggressive, not just feather-light. Your hand between his legs, making him go insane through the fabric of his black pants? That fantasy is his eternal cause for morning wood. Likes being groped while driving, too. Neither case needs a handjob to top it off. Charles just wants to feel aroused and then rub his dick against your thighs if possible. Until you get annoyed with the sensation and tell the naughty garçon how he can touch himself. And he can drive with one hand.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While you were on holiday in a lodge, he conceded something to you in a bittersweet recount of his earlier years in Monaco. Charles hooked up pretty quickly when he was still sleeping around, getting lost in whirlwind emotions. If he had the time, any excitement-promising approach was considered. And: Put to practice fast enough to match the pace of the racing world, if not on the spot. He couldn’t really say no, his vice. If somebody cute asked him kindly, please sleep with me, Charles: He replied where and how.

Charles almost went too far liking to please, offering his body, and his default answer being „so what do you like me to do“. Rather than „what do we like to do together“. He regrets he didn’t decline more often. For a myriad of reasons, Charles has a difficult time telling you that. Sex was taking over his life and didn’t fit into his natural flow. He was careful with his partners, but it was just as lustful as one would expect. That in and of itself didn’t impact him as strongly as the confusion of feelings. And, the fact that he had an easier time saying yes to someone who wanted a ten-minute romp than actually approaching somebody he had a crush on. Small talk, sure. He’s good at it. Offering a hot lap and driving them around track? Sure. But asking that person on a real date? He was terrible.

He’d only manage to drop hints he was throwing a party at best. Charles ended up surrounded by flirty people before he could even spot his crush in the crowd. On to the next circuit after sunrise: The opportunity gone. No number, no nothing. Charles’ trust into his own feelings for somebody corroded time and again that way. There was no event where he could develop his own infatuation or any reciprocity. The people he liked didn’t think they had a chance, and those who liked him wanted fast relief from their obsession, disappointed at how normal, frustrated, or half-hearted he came across.

The vicious cycle continued with distractions and more attractive people that gave him a blitz hormone rush that almost felt like being in love. Some of them — those who essentially invited themselves into his sheets — were really good in bed, which increased the satisfaction and had an addictive shock value. But after getting them off and then himself, in an almost medical and hyperfocused, stoic way, he still went to the bathroom with a deep existential sigh in his mind which he had no idea how to label. It might have been a feeling of being dragged along into something too messy to get out of.

Meanwhile, people who thought themselves less attractive came back for validation and wanted to pry Charles into daddying and husbanding them back and forth. He almost fell for the incentive and toxicity of that power trip he was offered. Which doubled the people on his lap, his fatigue, the let-down, and mistakes while driving. Wanting to try things out harmlessly became a stream of forgotten names which Charles thought was a mutual pity, all done just for the sake of a tiny glimpse of feel-good body motions. Which he could deliver, he was great, which complicated things even more, and gave him nudges to repeat himself.

That irresistible seduction swallowed up countless hobbies and friendships before he even noticed. The hookups went by faster and faster. Charles was no longer cocky, but numb. Which put his already inundated and clueless brain through a blender and confounded him even more. Knowing he had so much responsibility in this cycle was just as stalling. His notorious Achilles’ heel of not being able to do quick problem-shooting was the last straw. What Charles said to you about this will haunt you forever: “When I make a mistake, when I try to fix it, it just becomes a second one.“

All of this results in Charles’ body count easily exceeding the two figures. He feels paralyzing guilt in retrospect, mixed with positive emotions of remembered pleasure, which is an awkward blend. Charles overthinks how he got passed around so much to distract himself from an empty inner space. He cries about his memories on the couch and doesn’t really seem to stop being preoccupied for weeks after he revealed those things to you. That he apologizes for being `used up´ rubs you the wrong way since he has so much love to give. But you get why Charles got himself into these situations. He had always been stunning, and people thought: Sharin’ the joy.

Good for them, and his drive is arguably high, he wanted relief. Charles did get something out of it. He satisfied many people who deserved some Charles Leclerc in their lives, even if it was just for an hour. But still, you can imagine the chaos and heartbreaks. Many people Charles hooked up with gaze at your boyfriend in a peculiar way when passing by and seeing you. Charles can’t look up, even if you have nothing against these persons and they seem to be cool people.

It’s his body, he did what he wanted to do with it. Charles could try himself out as he should have, and he’s the master of fanservice. Truth be told, who wouldn’t like it when their idol was making out with them. Nothing more understandable than the massive collective excitement for Charles Leclerc. Of course you’re flattered he settled with you, and you can build this from the ground up. He protected well, having a baby is quickly done indeed. Last thing he wants to do is spread STIs or race with a toddler at the back of his mind. Who Mommy has to explain to what dad does for a living. Everything but that.

He’s talked a lot about it to you which you think is courageous. You don’t resent Charles having done things like taking two people with him to his hotel every time there was some palpable sensual chemistry. And there was, and it was good to live in the moment. Some dates weren’t draining or disappointing. Who’s mad people had a good time with Charles: That’s a thousand times more preferable than any opposite of that. And no way to wind back the clock — he knows that best. It happened, and he is honest to you about it, risking the whole relationship by doing so.

Your stance is this. If Charles slept around, that’s what he did. Nothing to complicate there. He’s done his thing. A lot of people had a lot of late-night fun, and there were two or three emergency pills. Which gladly turned out fine. He figured all the other safety stuff out, too. He really learned the essentials, but in person, not in a textbook. Charles thinks he’s a dummy, but you disagree. It shows in his way of showing worry and saying the right words, and he knows not to cause someone he slept with physical concerns. That he’s not a wild-ass sadistic zaddy dominant adds to the overall image. He could not slap someone across their face for a hundred million plus.

All that amounts to a pile of experience. What about it? It’s not like Charles is craving eighty people on him every Sunday night. Come on, King Lewis could outdo your boy on any given evening in one of his local vegan gangbangs where the Sir indulges anyone who shows up with a smoothie, Sebastian merch, or a pride flag. With a big cheeky smile, you know it. Charles was more on the other side of the spectrum wanting fewer people involved. Keeping the overview and staying focused on good sensations and at least a little romanticism, which usually failed. Which is why he also wants a monogamous future for himself. A partner he can worship but also eat greasy takeout with, somewhere in an empty American diner at 3 AM looking like you both just survived all ten Biblical plagues.  

His experience helps him know what feels good to both partners and what to avoid. But he also has some remaining mental baggage from the exhaustion, the stigma, and rapid socializing. He got fucked half-drunk pretty often which was not a good thing, and he hates that the most. That’s why it’s important to Charles that you’re sober, you’re in control, and he’s glad he has you. His health is checked. He’s well aware what a French Letter is and keeps on using it. Although Charles thinks he is undeserving of a stable relationship regardless of his wish for exactly that, you don’t falter. After a `second mistake´ can always come a right choice.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

By far that’s face to face, lying down on your favored sides. Your leg over his hip. A comfy pillow under your heads. The room nice and warm. Need I say more. Charles enjoys the angle and way of accommodating so much. He can penetrate you while kissing and feel your legs and hug. It’s the position you had your very vanilla first time in, so you keep repeating it for nostalgic value. You love being centimeters short of your lashes touching his, nose next to nose, and seeing his eyebrows arch in pleasure: Priceless. That position is called The Rocker, and it does have a nice rocking motion.  

It was — and how else would it be, Charles is a wonderboy — a kind first time. Charles was not a klutz and knew how to arrange his body perfectly. He put a lot of sweat into making this a great starting point. That way of having sex on your sides is actually not so easy from the guy’s perspective, it speaks of Charles’ dexterity even if he is not extremely bendy Yuki-style. You like it because it feels so stable and is close to a regular hug. Charles really did the opposite of walking up to you saying „okay madame, missionary?“. He’s generally open-minded and makes less popular positions feel easy instead of awkward. This particular position is also useful to transition into many others, which is why it’s a bedroom staple.

Charles can make love in any reasonable way, though. You on top of him. Prone, super relaxed. Doggy over the backrest of his sofa. And those are just the classics. He’s not gonna throw you around or put you in a piledriver, and most standing positions are weird to him, but the rest is fair game. There’s no shame he feels in the moment, although he may be shy. Just because he had a lot of partners, doesn’t mean he won’t be bashful. But also don’t forget: Behind those dimples is a lot of resolve. He wants to be flawless. You always look forward to Charles taking the whole thing so damn seriously. You don’t mind him being so accurate. Like anything, it shows his natural will to please and be good rather than not caring at all.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In a puzzling contrast to his rigid perfectionism, Charles `I sing in the shower´ LeBean is a hilarious goofball incarnate. He’s insane, he’s strange, he can’t stay straight-faced at all, ironically. People are far too distracted by his appearance and Monéygasque attitude. He constantly makes little jokes during foreplay — he once acted like he handed you a toothpaste instead of a lube bottle — and won’t stop randomly squirming or making weird-ass moves. Body language again: He’s his own universe. He can create the greatest atmosphere with that dripping chocolate honey marshmallow strawberry ice cream French, too, even if he said the biggest ever nonsense. It’s a miracle language.

His PDA is just as unconventional. Recently, he gave you a hand kiss and curtsy. Basically on the paddock, where you arrived to work, see him, and bully some team principles as a side quest. You simply got bored once Charles was told to warm up indoors. So there’s that, a nice hand kiss. Charles seems to consider you Monte Carlo royalty, but maybe that’s because he’s such a pretty prince himself. Although, he does not behave like some kind of monarch as soon as the occasion calls for him to be a meme, and that includes right in the act. Charles is the type to verbatim say „oops, I actually came! What happened!“ As always, one of a kind. You’ll never stop laughing with this guy.

He’s so sorry about making all these unintended jokes. He just can’t see the puns cumming, can he. As mentioned earlier, Charles prefers a whole bit of orgasm denial anyway. Tell him he can’t climax until you say so, and he’ll gulp, and stick it out with his teeth clenching. You’re gonna make this man explode harder than the night race fireworks, that shit got nothing on him. You’ll have him a sweaty wreck by the time you’re done with him, he’ll talk in at least two languages at once. Charles’ trilingual lifestyle is a warranty for plenty of verbal mix-ups. „You are so `otte…“ — „Haute? Like haute couture?“ — „No, `ot! Like temperature!“ — „Oh, hot!“

h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trés chic! Charles is a chameleon: Closely trimmed, then all-natural. To give a more orderly impression, he likes to take care of his cleavage and especially the happy trail to give you a nice view in general. That spot’s gotta be smooth. When you lick across his chest, that’s gotta be sleek, too. He experiments with how to groom his pits and puts a scented conditioner on his leg hair in the shower sometimes.

To rave about the obvious: Charles has that lovely and consistent dark hair. Spectacular, amazing, stupendous. That beard awakens something in you. Don’t get me wrong. There are some pretty cool beards on the grid. But Charles has one that is stylish, versatile, fitting, and unobtrusive. It’s complimentary and gives him yet another touch of elegance. He has quite the beauty regimen in the morning. Knows how to tweeze his eyebrows, but doesn’t overdo it in the outer corners.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Charles is so sensual. If not the number one driver on the grid who understands what `erotic´ really means and looks like, next to Monsier Gasly of course. Erotic, that’s giving no discomfort, but a smile. Your first guess was that he might be a bitchy brat who gave his top a dramatic display — I mean he puts the winky face smoochy heart emoji into his captions — but little did you know he’s very focused on your experience and snuggly. Charles needs that downtime. Babe can’t expend all his energy smiling through the pain all day, or distract himself on his phone, can he. Charles has an expected soft side that comes out even more in complete privacy. On an intimacy scale to 10, he’s an 8.

Sure… Charles has a tiny bit of attitude: „That turns you on, doesn’t it?“ Because he knows exactly what you like, and his way of speaking English can make it sound bolder than it is. It will sound way different in French. But his nature as a pleaser who looks for signals in return rather than someone who thrives on one-sided romance does come out pretty quickly. He’s talked to you about those awkward past scenarios of being in that unrequited position, and how that ended up like. Charles is careful looking up to someone although he wants to do that so much, and it’s a huge part of defining intimacy to him. That’s why romance has to feel light and airy to him. He values fooling around rather than classic date nights sometimes, but is also the type to say „You feel amazing“ a lot during sex since he likes to give revering compliments.

His most candid intimate thoughts will only exist in written form: A diary. Yes, Charles will sit down and journal. If he finds time to write stuff into his Ferrari burn book, he will find time to write something in his journal at home or the hotel. Facts. You don’t pester him to show you. Charles can keep secrets or talk about it however he likes. He’d not touch your phone ever, either. Not once. He is more wary than jealous. He figures his mind out by himself and trusts you. One of the things he’s written down and actually dared to put forward in a conversation is that he has a fantasy of you acting more possessive over him.  Physically, psychologically. In less of a romantic way. Who knew.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’d never eat his own cum directly. The rest? Free reign. Charles treats his dick like. What to even compare it to. Lando vibrating and squealing and jumping around in his gaming chair. Weird analogy, but you get the idea. He’s going ballistic. Traction control off. Among the whole grid, Charles would win a speed contest. Always masturbates like it’s his first time doing it. Usually on all fours, winding left and right when no one watches, throwing himself around. This guy is fucking desperate, you don’t even know. His post-nut regrets are three times worse than the average guy’s. His wrist hurts while steering later, so Charles will masturbate the most at the beginning of the week. Saturday night? Not a chance.

Since he jacks off like a madman to destress, it makes him even more like a human pressure cooker. Ironically, since he thought it would blow off steam big time. You often have to remind him that he better not detach his dick from himself with all that heavy tugging. Charles realizes that a gentler approach will be better at prolonging his pleasure and finding the right moment for release. „The more deliberate you are, the less regret you’ll feel“ — especially if you get kisses all over your face while doing so. Guided masturbation is his perfect match. „Keep it clean. Only this direction.“ He listens to you since Charles knows you make sense. The more he gets into that, the more he likes that form of indirect domination. Just how much can he arch his back? Come in and find out. Allez, Charles.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

The thing is. Your bébé has not really tried full-on submission beforehand. He’s played around with handcuffs, blindfolds… but never dared to go all the way. And neither was he encouraged, even if he’s really interested in those things. That’s probably why he was bouncing from one hook-up to the other, hoping for something spicier to occur, without actually communicating that, which set him up for being disheartened. Vanilla sex is great, but still far away from his full potential.

Those thighs and ass can handle it, Charles is ready for a whipping. He’s ready for the strap, he’s ready for the slaps, he’s ready for the feathers tracing over his body. Bring on the adrenaline. And oh boy, he’s already among the top 20+ drivers in the world doing adrenaline as a full profession. You gotta hit it out of the park. His fascination with BDSM has a reason: Charles thinks he missed out on exploring his submissive side, like there’s a gap in his sexuality. From your side, it goes much further. From your observation, you have a masochistic diamond on your hands. Still raw, but soon to be sculpted in full.

Pegging as a first step, it’s a wild ride in all meanings of the word. You have to be careful to guide him. Charles is easily sensitive. Paradoxically, he doesn’t want gentle prep. Go big or go home. That goes for strap size, too. Using smaller toys to dilate is simply not his thing. He cleans himself up in the bathroom to get ready, but that’s it. This man is gonna talk nonstop. „Like this? What do I do? Is this okay like that? This feels crazy! But in a good way! What do I do with my hips?! Where do I put my leg? What’s this feeling?“

You have to talk your cherry boy through it like an instruction video. Charles’ ass is twitching like hell, which makes you wonder how on earth did this man not get properly dominated by anyone yet. Well, there’s always a first time, and who knew there was still a way to take his virginity. Like wow. And so abruptly, he just wants you to push it in from behind, no fingers first. Good evening to his prostate. This guy’s eyes will be falling out. He’s never been this touchy-feely.

Charles is going to be stunned out of his mind for hours after. You’ll see reactions he never did before. It hurts a lot, like a lot lot, but… he gets excited from that; his heart beats faster than at the start of a race. Charles had no idea that being split in half was that much of a big deal, and you spanking him as a little treat makes it even better. He’s gonna do a little yelp anytime something happens, and seriously. Sure you’ve heard him gaming, but Charles is a different kind of screamer when you pull his hair. The ultimate stress relief.

If that already keeps him on his toes and gives him an existential crisis (which, to be fair, is his primary mode of living these days), wait until you break out the long gloves. Charles will think you’ve gone insane, but it turns him on. He likes being confronted with extremes as is his driver nature. Oh, to get his face slammed down into a pillow and just getting ravaged, and this time not a piece of plastic. And again: He does not like it tender. Charles has the guts to enter an F1 car, you can rearrange these guts without a worry. No „Mommy mommy please take your time“ — he’s not that kinda sub. His name ain’t Lando. It needs to be at the limit until he can’t take it anymore. Lube is your best friend.

In vanilla, he’s a romantic, but for subbing, this guy is not for the faint of heart. You’re doing those things on Monday, not Friday evening. Maybe Charles doesn’t feel the car bouncing because his ass is already numb. That would explain a lot. You’re leaving is in literal shambles. Just how often have you blown his back out? Charles will avoid soft subbing, he enjoys you being brutal, sometimes a bit too much, in fact.

Sure, you can give it to him strongly. Why not have a little hate sex. You saw how much he likes being choked with his own tie. It’s nice if things get red-hot. But the calm and subtle side is missing, which is why you sometimes just rope him in while on his knees for an hour or two. Believe it or not, for some softer couple time. Bondage is the best and most patient way to explore Charles’ body in full and to develop your rigging skills along the way. This is an art, and pretty red ropes (what else) fit a pretty boy well, don’t they.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

First off. You know the drill. His racing car is taboo. Some… other drivers would pull this. But not your very mannered guy. The garage, same thing. Charles behaves. Come on, that damn car. You wouldn’t squeeze in there either, who are we kidding. Keeping it classy, and if there’s nastiness, it is calculated or just in his head. Like Charles’ fantasy to have sex in the car while competing at Le Mans. He’s insane for this, but he will constrain that idea in his head for obvious safety reasons.

That he likes being pinned against a wall though, that can be arranged. Yuki would be proud of your expert kabedon. And not just the light version. Charles wants to get pushed against the surface ruthlessly, have you ripping at his shirt and collar, and he wants to get scolded. Quite submissive of you, Monsieur Leclerc. Some like it wild.

The superior place though? His yacht has a nice interior. The perfect spot. Superb privacy. It’s not just for sex, though. Charles has an open ear for your thoughts while it’s cuddle time or you’re having pasta there. He’s your bestie, you are giggling about a random Youtube video you’ve seen. Once you go on land, still laughing, you will look crazy to outsiders, but you are free. PS: Has long joined the mile high club with you. That’s been one of the first things you did together and oh boy, was it enjoyable. One of the horniest days in your history as a couple. You’ve done it again a dozen times after.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Would never admit simping over you, even if he’ll often say „Je t’aime“ in broad daylight. But he wears his mirror glasses for a reason. Nobody will notice how often he looks in your direction. Charles is in a precarious mindset about you very often. He knows it could all be over by the dawn of tomorrow, whatever the unforeseen event or split may be. Hoping that the odds are in his favor and in yours, but knowing all the ways of misfortune and endings all too well, Charles often tries to tweak his thoughts to be more shallow when looking at you: But in all cases, he fails. He’s a relationship guy, he can’t help it. He’s turned on by by thinking „I am her boyfriend.“

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Mind games. Someone with zero brain cells. And: Classical music. Or mainstream rap. Those stay off the sex playlist. Either would disturb his creative flow. Being, in essence, either too cheesy and epic, or too much in your face with mumbled punchlines. 90s rap, he would say yes. But with modern music, Charles needs a way more sensual way to color the room with background atmosphere… and puts on cringe tracks that you will promptly roast. Who listens to Vampire Weekend while fucking. It’s not like you’re slamming his taste, you’re just um putting on your own playlist and he’s gonna like it. Easy.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Let’s start with receiving. So. He doesn’t have a desperate preference, but he sure enjoys himself to the rare maximum. Like, really letting go. Which is a feeling Charles does not usually experience without any roadblocks. This man is violently cursed from experiencing pure joy. So naturally, you like to spoil him rotten. Charles is terribly weak for that. He’s a lips enthusiast. And he knows his dick is nice, he’s clean, so he got a nice pastime to offer in return.  

What’s in his mind about it? That he has been blessed. When does life ever give this man a break except for a damn blowjob. He feels pathetic and never begs you to do it, but he’s also grateful. Charles is feeling very much alive again. His sexy hands are surely busy on you, too. It’s all big serotonin for Charles. Which is a concept you like. Something simple within ten minutes can paint a relaxed smile on his face. He sleeps like a baby afterward, and probably cooks you breakfast while dancing in the kitchen the morning after.

You do pay attention not to give him pleasure as a `substitute´. It’s not supposed to be a drug. And it can’t obscure the fact that he’s often faced with strife that needs to be overcome directly, by himself. Then again, you do like to comfort him by sucking him off. You can’t help wanting to do it, even if it contradicts your wish for Charles to come home from the circuit with a smile on his lips already. Since a big famous racing team is responsible for either fucking him over and ruining his mood, it’s a little complicated, though.

Whatever you do: Charles considers you an oral sex goddess, and even scorns himself for thinking he falls short vice versa. He works hard to reciprocate. You put dedication into it and really bother with techniques. Hands-free and shallow and deeper and twisting and tongue work and rubbing the sweet spots underneath, everything. It’s the passion that counts the most though, and you have it. Charles can’t like it enough. You can suck his dick until it falls off like a 2020 Mercedes tire. Fuck, does he taste good. Champagne bottles do pop differently when they’re from Monaco.

He likes the more energetic style of fellatio even if he is otherwise quite the sensualist. Some timid licks won’t do here, nor does a languid double-handed twist. He stays true to his endurance motto. And you’re similar to him. You wanna eat him up, you’re eager to see him tremble. Plus, you’re aware he’s a wanted man. You want Charles all for yourself. His moans, his dick, his body, his smiling. Charles asked you to be possessive. This is one of your ways of showing it.

Charles is pretty vocal with his back against any horizontal surface stable enough. He wants both of you to have plenty of cushion support. He typically rests his hands on your shoulders, or loosely palms your hair. What’s interesting to you is that Charles has actually been pretty stingy with blowjobs in his past. This is something special to him. He wants the lips wrapped around his dick to also say loving, encouraging words to him in other situations. Charles wants to deeply like you rather than just wait until you put him in your mouth and he won’t care about the rest. That he’s okay with you giving him head says a lot about what Charles thinks about you.

Saved the best for last: Giving. At first — Charles is actually a bit insecure, but in a way that you can work with. What steps to do? Where to look? How to move? He prefers it when your hands guide his head and put some gentle pressure on it. Teach him all the spots and directions, teach him all your ways. Initially, you wonder why a person who slept with a gazillion people is so not confident with eating you out. But you realize, Charles always needs a little push. He wants to please you the way you want it with an immense exactitude. His mindlessly horny encounters were… less ceremonious, and as you saw, not that heavy on the oral component from both sides.

That stuff was like. Hop on my dick, I give you a hot lap. Let me heat that engine, big finish, chequered flag, let’s kiss, goodnight, it was very good. I’m flying to another continent in two hours, you were amazing. Charles wants a bit more indulgence and deliberation this time, and a more correct technique. Giving head to party girls was like: So here we have Charles Leclerc and his aimless tongue finding random spots, making superficial 8s, and it’s all under time pressure! Going down on a complete stranger and figuring it all out in a minute, and the same applies to a blowjob, that’s just weird as hell. Charles’ opinion is, you have to know what they like in detail.

He regrets not having put more effort and education into it back then. Although, and that’s obvious to you but not him, his former slut life was clearly facilitated by his already far above-average sex talent. But yes: Now he can make up for lost knowledge. Which are more like, mere finishing touches. He’s quite proactive to catch up. And as you know, Sharl is a bit of a social butterfly. After getting advice from the number one sex coach in town, things are wildly different. You’ll hear sentences like „just cum on my face sweetie ♡“ and immediately know it’s the voice of Sir Lewis Hamilton speaking through him. You’re not surprised that Charles asked Lewis out of all people to level up. After all: No surprise, eating pussy is completely vegan. Instead of meat, I eat veggies and y/n — Eurovision fans will get it.

But you also raise a little brow at Charles’ loose lips. He really did kiss and tell there, huh. You’ll make him sign an NDA if he continues to consult people who so happen to frequently chat with Sebastian #TheGossipMan Vettel. Who will then spill the tea at a press conference for the world to hear. Instead of Charles just researching on the plain ole Internet and calling it a day. Your boyfriend apologizes profusely and realizes just how fast this intel could spread. Regardless, you compliment him on his choice of expert and are sure that Lewis will not pass on the information lest he wants his avocado toast stolen.

Instead of learning complicated tongue swirls, Charles has an easier time when you just sit on that Orlando Bloom of Formula 1 face and just ride on. Like properly. On your knees, facing his feet. Charles’ feet are fucking top tier. Did I mention his feet are great? Elegant, beautiful, aesthetic. Like the man himself. And no worries. He preps his beard so you won’t get hurt. Charles is now confronted with your ass doing all the work, but his horse neck can handle it, zero doubts there. In other words: At the beginning, he’s better at being passive than active. Gotta make that mattress squeak. You can drive it home on that glorious face. That will enter his mind permanently, just like what you did to his sexy suit.

But then again, he won’t give up on improving himself. At dinner, Charles has recently confessed to having a lot of sexual fantasies where he sees himself in 3rd person, pleasing you with his tongue like a pro. He thinks it’s a shame his lips aren’t very big and plump, but he does his best, zealously, to stimulate the right spots. Sometimes, you need to urge him to concentrate, he’s really trying and trying everything at once. Charles enjoys the effort to lick you up well. If he loves someone, he likes to figure them out.

„I wish I was a natural“ is his constant motto. He really makes no excuse. No wonder, because you’re so delectable. Your labia are so tasty to suck on, and the dripping wetness in the middle is his undisputed favorite thing. No wonder you are Miss Éclair. People with a bump on their nose simply are the best pussy eaters. Sorry, I make the rules. Charles will ruin his face in the best way possible by swiping his nose base to tip, upwards, making you gasp out loud. Somebody is getting the hang of it. Just imagine feeling his lashes on the insides of your thighs. Lucky you, lucky you. And him doing the thumb-tongue combo. He really goes for the podium in your heart, does he. Instant win.

If you are the goddess of oral, Charles feels very inspired to be the matching god. Standards, baby. You hold him back from pushing himself, but it’s clear he is a gifted student at almost everything, as is typical of him. In other words: Learning curve. Charles has you heated up like the comment section of George’s topless pics when he talks that extra sultry, heavy fucking French. „Mon rêve, how do you feel?“ Goodbye, man. Good fucking bye. Charles will cater to your voice kink until you’ve cum twice in a row. He is really starting to play to his strength these days, keep that guy.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

To be enjoyed with care. Charles’ brain is imploding when the speed picks up, and he’s turning into a messy hoe. Mind that he’s extremely strong by virtue of his job — Charles doesn’t want to hurt you or himself by acting out. He’ll have to hold his body back to match you, but he’s okay with it. Subbing clearly helps with that, too. He’s not at the risk of doing something disproportionate when he’s tied down. Charles can control his physique really well, but he still wants to be safe, fearing his arms could crush or sweep you in a wrong direction by accident. As always, he is paranoid of mistakes. That’s why Charles is comfortable being on the receiving and passive end especially, and will rather use his muscles for simply looking good laying there (hell yeah), and enduring rather than going on to dole something out.

At a certain point, he loses his usual athletic coordination and just closes his eyes. He will peak in no time and cry out loud. A mid-range speed is always the best way to go. Anything that will match a sped-up breathing pattern. Charles thought going steady is not his thing, because he’s a racing driver. But he does feel proven wrong with time and embraces it. Which adds to his sensual style, and that’s fucking hot.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

How does one even find time and inspiration for that. In the high-paced circus shitshow that is Formula 1? Well, easy: Charles has driven the 2020 car. He knows what it’s like to slow down and create his own lane. A little sex on the side, absolutely his thing. Charles is a quickie enthusiast of the highest order. He doesn’t call it quickies, though. He always refers to it as `little fun´.

But it’s more than fun. He could make out with you all day, even if he turns delirious. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, night. For example, he fantasizes about standing behind you at the kitchen counter in the afternoon. With his shorts a little pulled down. You eat together while you’re feeling him from behind. And the whole thing becomes more and more passionate, and, and— The oven goes up in flames.

Charles’ fantasies are always interrupted by an element of demise, added to the fact that he is already terrifyingly booked on weekends and in the factory. Which is why he has a mentality of improvising quickies rather than modeling them after what goes on in his head. His eagerness tends to backfire there. On some days, Charles might not even manage to get out of his own trousers by virtue of his dick situation, fumbling around aimlessly while kissing. Uncoordinated Charles and the helping hand of his domme — a match made in heaven. Admit it: You baby Charles too much and you enjoy it. But really: He needs that bit of extra TLC. And he’s on all fours to repay you, he’s fair.

So. It’s you who’s guiding his hands. Charles hesitating or not knowing how to move sometimes doesn’t mean he wants to safeword. His insecurities don’t root in you. You’re out of that equation. He definitely wants to sleep with his mon amour, out of question. He just needs some minutes to catch up and switch into off-the-paddock mode. It all works best when you indulge his inner romantic rather than fucking like rabid beasts. Being tender and focusing on the waves of pleasure will grant you a much better 15 minutes of little fun in the kitchen — without the oven on. Charles is already hot enough, aye.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s the kind of sub that sees something on the Internet says „Oh my god! Who would do that!“ and proceeds to ask for doing it five minutes later. Jesus fucking Christ, Charles. „But I guess we can try it out!“ is his battle cry. Needless to say: He needs a wise and circumspect partner who at the same time is very open-minded and resolute. It’s a lot to ask, but his best partner is an all-rounder domme. A lady who knows how to lead, but also strokes his cheeks and gives due praise. That way, it works out considering Charles often changes his mind and wants to go more extreme, more immersed. Roleplay, and the like.

There’s a negative side that you noticed, though. Charles infuses a lot of it with personal topics that he normally pushes to the side. He really wants to act and feel like you hate him sometimes, giving him severe punishments, stepping on him a lot more brutally, hitting him in the face hard with no regard to the consequence, and talking to him from behind a callous emotional barrier. In short, really mistreating him.

You’re not 100% okay with that and actually tell him off. You feel like Charles will end up misusing this dynamic without even noticing. To castigate his conscience, to grant himself a proxy to express the buried feeling of being really beaten down. Since his self-hate has terrible effects, he believes someone else hating him could free him of it: But it has to be someone who actually likes him, so that the situation is not real. Roleplaying seems to look like Charles’ coping. You understand the point of relief through a fantasy, but you still don’t agree that his reasoning is healthy or in any way effective for his career.

Even if they appear like immovable mountains, you animate him to rather face those problems outside of bed. He clearly has the zeal, that’s absolutely obvious to you. Charles can’t fix what happened, but he can think about the present day. Getting a sexual punishment won’t really let him move on. Guess why he likes bondage so much: It mirrors his feelings of constriction (alongside the burden of being il predestinato) and gives him the relief of being unbound after a session. Real-life doesn’t unbind him, which is why he keeps wanting to do it in kink, symbolically, and he asks you to do it again and again.

Even if you really enjoy tying him up and roleplaying — these types of Dom/sub play consume enormous time already, and with Charles, it feels like an emergency remedy. You can see where this is going: BDSM ain’t therapy. Especially since he’s a sub who tends to be on the receiving end of some pretty intense practices, you explain to Charles that it’s better to pursue sexuality for physical and spontaneous mental pleasure. Rather than, say to compensate for a larger life crisis that weighs too heavy on him to confront outside of sex. Or so he believes. Easier said than done, but you want to point it out to be sure.

It’s a bitter truth to swallow. And a criticism often unheard of. But it’s part of safe-sane-consensual that a partner will slam the breaks on any deeper issues that creep up. Dominating him should be no all-purpose sugar pill. It should be leisure that so happens to bring some extra dopamine. And if somebody agrees that being light-hearted is a hundred times more beneficial than compensating into a bottomless pit, it’s Charles. Hands down. This guy knows what you’re really talking about. There’s a reason why he thinks back positively to his karting days since that environment was more cheerful, not as serious and quickly punishing as being among the best drivers in the whole world.

He’s gladly aware and won’t deny it, which makes the situation easier. Charles has well observed that he’s not the most unbothered person out there. Somebody who refuses to be conscious of that is simply nerve-wracking to deal with. That mentality can shatter relationships. You are relieved that Charles listens. He asks to think about the concern for a while because he sees the point.

Charles misses a lot of people who took care of him. So, he’s swinging to one extreme of accepting his abandonment by asking his partner to act highly dismissive and degradingly towards him. Or, the other end of the pendulum: Of wanting to be doted on nonstop, reassured he won’t be left alone. You thought about it, and it told you something extremely important. That Charles is largely clueless about balancing his need for an authority figure. He either wants full distance or too much love, all to mitigate his perpetual inner turmoil. It really is what it boils down to. And it must be extremely painful. You understand why he wants a quick fix and can’t find the golden mean.

That’s also the reason why he could and would not attach in his hook-up days. Because these people just wanted good dick from a smoking hot guy (understandable), and then they took off. Abandonment. People showed up for his body, an orgasm, and the brief experience of the famous Charles Leclerc, the celebrity him. And now he’s with you, permanently, and it’s suddenly an elaborate power dynamic where he is the actual submitting party. Being taught discipline, and having somebody stand above him. Do you finally see why Charles is so interested in you now?  

It takes a week until he sorts himself out, and you don’t really have sex until then. The breakfast table glances are extremely loaded with thoughts. Charles feels guilty for things digging so deep where you should be having a blast and enjoying life, especially with the amount of money and travel opportunities at his disposal. Coming to terms with his burdens on your sex life and this risk for your connection is already half the path to go, though. He values that you confronted him and want to know what really drives his actions. To Charles, that’s a testament to caring and sincerity.

He returns to sleeping with you after clearly stating that he’ll try his best to focus on being more moderate. Although he also says he’s afraid he can’t eradicate his submissive side, and moreover, and most importantly, he really needs you. You’re taken aback since that’s not really been a question to you. In your eyes, he can take your respect for these things for granted. Charles needing you is okay, and his interest in freaky stuff is okay when it’s done for the right reasons. Wanting to look up to someone is not a bad thing. Nor are you going anywhere anytime soon.

You’re here to chill out on red flamingo floaties in the pool and goof off, and bond in the sheets with your petit beau. And Lord knows who doesn’t love a subby Charles. You just don’t want him to fall into a further downward spiral of loathing, anger, compulsion, or rapid mood swings because of his grief. You’re literally right there for him. Which unburdens him a lot when he hears that from you, although he realizes that it’s a given when he looks at how you behave. And you depend on Charles a lot, too. You want him, badly, you can no longer deny it to yourself.

Charles goes on to promise that he won’t expect you to heal his losses, or give him an excuse to open up solely through kink stuff. As, he puts it like this, some kind of cover-up. While at the same time neglecting your needs and not centering his attention around you. „It was too selfish of me even if I had my reasons. I was drawing too much energy from you. That can’t be justified.“

Knowing that he’s not the only one who likes sweet stuff, Charles frequents a top-class confectioner to get an expensive, personalized chocolate basket as an apology. There are all kinds of treats in there, in fantastical flavors. He buys it not for showing off, but to show you the meaning of wanting you to be satisfied, and reassured. He doesn’t want to use you as therapy, forget your side of the coin, or please himself only, just to alleviate what spins around in his mind as an issue that should not slowly undermine your love life.

His grief is important. But it should not disturb the affection you’re sharing, even make you despise or control each other, or cause wreckage. What he does want is for you to stick around and be his anchor, or someone he can learn from to some extent. That’s what he really desires. Well, at the end of the day, you did teach him something there already, further proving his point. So, you don’t really have to do anything to assure Charles. You’re doing it naturally.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His abilities: Jawdropping. Charles is very invested in being able to go a lil’ longer than a meek two minutes. Charles is excited, but deliberating. He knows about the common irony that when he doesn’t focus on stamina, and just directs his pleasing to you, stamina is no longer a thing. Seeing a random homo sapiens naked does not send him into a wild frenzy. Charles has seen it all. He feels like that’s a plus, but also an obstacle.

You did notice that he is a bit desensitized, physically. His job is defined by pushing himself beyond all limits. He knows how to show his appreciation for you, but he’s also scarred by his former sex life which was endlessly repetitive. Being stuck in that rut kind of fried his brain, as do the constant fuckups in Ferrari’s racing strategy. Double whammy. There’s a reason why Charles wanted a permanent partner who had a different approach. What Charles dreams of is spicing it up with things he’s not done yet, conversations he’s not had yet, with somebody who’s the clever to match his stupid. Sapiosexual detected. „Ah, it’s like this? You’re a genius!“ — classic Charles phrase directed at you.

What’s not surprising and an advantage: He doesn’t really bother with picture-perfect appearances anymore. Someone being beautiful, extra-groomed and well-formed is amazing to him, but the result of having sex is always the same. Everybody wants a positive feeling out of it. The most otherworldly and rich sex partners he’s had were some of the most stress-laden personalities. Who had, pray tell, uncanny baggage in life and really suffered with no seeming way out. Copy-paste to Charles. Not so wholesome, and a natural relationship slash libido killer.

He’s aware of how jet set attractiveness is hard to create and maintain to begin with. Attractive people with by a thousand bees buzzing around them are just like him. Birds of a feather, a great spark at the beginning, common ground of popularity, but also twice the exact same issues combined. He already considers himself hard to date due to his fame, schedule, and a mountain of horrible things swirling around in his brain. A person who might look extraordinary but has as much pressure as he has? They’d barely hang out or find some opportunity for creating happiness. Dwelling on a deserving mentality, waiting for outside luck, doing chronic complaining, and overwork. Charles knows the drill. Even more detriments to stamina.

Double the extreme beauty in a couple might be common in his circles — doesn’t mean it’s beneficial. The paparazzi would tear the relationship apart, and Charles can’t just do his thing in peace from all the hype and envy. His partner’s looks will wind up irrelevant down the line. Only someone witty gets this guy off his phone, someone outrageous, a bon vivant who provokes him. Not a fellow celebrity who’s just clocking in for two minutes facetime, too busy making themselves presentable, smiling, posing, strutting around, pretending the world is happy and they are sexy, all that rotten phony Instagram delusion.

Chances are they have zero muse for talking passionately about racing or his mental health, and if they do listen for a second, it’s meant to gain approval points. Actually taking Charles’ circumstances to heart is more than just an `understanding´ hum on the phone. Imagine someone having that audacity and then going on to promote their own stuff online. In your words to him: Shrugging off your partner is a fucking insult. You have to get your hands dirty — in private — to really really show what you’re there for. Them. Not just yourself.

Charles doesn’t want to wait three hours until he can cuddle you. Every hair and lash in place, still insecure how you come across? Please no. His lifestyle does not allow for waiting. Everything has to be on the spot, and he wants a partner who has kick-ass swag five thousand. Not someone who caves as soon as Charles is struggling. They have to be strong! An iron will under the surface. He’s not Lewis finding time to fly to every fashion show within a radius of 24.901 miles aka the whole earth, nor a poker-faced Scandinavian driver with indestructible patience. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to peel you out of ten layers of whatever fabrics. Corsetry, tons of jewelry, complicated itchy hairstyles going all over the place and whatnot. Makeup caking in the heat of Bahrain, or sky-high shoes he can’t take you anywhere with for a getaway. Turn-off. Pragmatism is sexy.

PJ and athleisure: Just right. So comfy. And don’t say you’d rather go through all that dolling up forever rather than being in his arms right away. If you’re horny for Charles, you won’t postpone it. Everything else messes with your natural instinct. He gives zero fucks. Only being fresh out of the shower is a good idea, obviously. The same goes for the often sweat-drenched, stressed-out him. No double standards. Charles is a bubble bath hoe anyway, he smells like a rose garden. But yes — the guy’s not as superficial as his origin suggests. Which results in an interesting dynamic.

The psychological `glue´ between people is more impressive to Charles. He’s turned on by a person’s way of acting. He’s well-versed with body stuff. He’s in a contact sport, to understate it. On the other hand, if we’re talking D/s. Since he’s new to submitting, Charles is easily overstimulated. You can tell that he had lots of conventional sex that didn’t really target much of the body as a whole. BDSM, in a lot of disciplines, is a little more distinct and takes into account every nook and cranny. Which Charles is very enticed by. Imagine the effect of a single nipple clamp on this strong-ass Italian stallion.

Body endurance-wise, and that goes for the entire grid: High, of course. This guy’s job is doing a 2-hour Grand Prix almost every other week. Driving front of the grid, at immense speeds, with crazy focus. Steering and talking and drinking and pushing buttons and memorizing the track and racing the Top 10 and adhering (unfortunately) to strategy and… the list just goes on and on. Imagine the chemicals on fire inside this body. What an athlete.

So: Charles has the resilience. Sex is pretty easy on his circulation, it’s not a crazy cardio workout for him. He trains much harder stuff. Don’t mistake his lack of breaking a sweat fast for a lack of feeling, though. You’ll be able to sense it in his touch. I don’t have to tell you he’s courteous and affectionate and the cutest, you already know it. But also remember that Charles is careful to attach himself 100%, and not because he’s a player. This guy can’t even wink properly.

You know the reason why he’s hesitant to confide in somebody. And that his profession is an enormous hazard. He often has no clue whether to go the extra mile feeling-wise or not. If he does, that makes it so much harder to watch the race for you. If you can bring yourself to do that at all, after an especially spectacular night with him. It’s the price to pay. Keeping it lighthearted versus YOLO-ing the whole thing is the bane of your relationship. Charles wants to be emotionally available, but also no let-down or a tragic figure. You tell him, „Charles. That already shows you care so much.“ He’s loving regardless, no matter what he decides. He’s already invested, so why not go all the way and make it a relationship that lives life to the fullest?

Charles, knowing that entire emotional backdrop, gives the whole dynamic a touch of good friendship rather than aiming for Romeo and Juliet. And he doesn’t have to. Charles suffers from the invisible break on his romantic nature that wants to prepare you a candlelight dinner instead of doing an extra track walk. It’s the Sebastian Vettel effect: Either full power on the circuit, or full throttle at home: Choose one. The amount of times he asked another trusted driver about improving his thinking with those things, being vague enough about you but still desperately trying to find a solution, you would not believe it. Pierre has tried everything so Charles would not feel so conflicted.

Your boyfriend talks a lot to you about being in the mood for love and wishing he could pour rose petals to your feet every weekend when you woke up rather than being on the grid. But — if that’s not romantic in and of itself. Charles didn’t realize how words could be enough to tell you what he means. A thought can be priceless, much better than making something reality sometimes. Doesn’t mean a big candlelight dinners won’t take place when the season’s over. You are patient for Charles. That is also important stamina in relationships.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Aside from straps? The absolute minimalist. Not the type to ask being collared and put on a leash like a puppy: That’s Lando and Lewis territory. Charles is pretty reserved, he would not mass buy toys or experiment much. Anything that vibrates? Freaks him out. Your theory is that his phobia has to do with being a driver for Ferrari in particular. When something goes brrrrrrhh he automatically thinks he needs to box box immediately to get his car reconstructed from the ground up mid-race.

And whether that’s toys used on him or yourself, he’d also get a heart attack when the battery starts dying on him and the toy makes irregular noises. You know which ones I mean. As if it’s staggering. His driver mind goes like `Oh my god. The engine! What’s happening?!´ while you are already busy switching batteries like it’s no big deal. Anything that’s too high on the tech component and needs a whole-ass instruction manual makes Charles question his life choices. How would Charles spend his time stretching condoms over a Hitachi. That’s your thing, not the unsuspecting kitty’s. This man is far too traumatized by vibrating noises. So, please spare Charles of the toy mania unless you buy him a nipple pump for fun and plenty of laughter. Nipple stuff is fine. But nothing too fancy.

His blissful ignorance is amazing. He has no idea how a vibrating constriction ring works and what that even is. Charles can tell you what a Hockenheim Ring is, a Hungaro Ring, a Nürburg Ring, and a Red Bull Ring, but some super specific toys? He’s too confused and doesn’t want to find out. This dude has enough electronics to deal with on the regular. Like. Charles thinks anal beads are a home decoration. Okay, he’s not that naïve. But you get the point. In his mind, brrrrrrhh equals red alert.

Obviously, he doesn’t mind if you have your own little collection to masturbate by yourself, it’s just not his cup of tea to use as a couple. He also doesn’t like watching you in a weird way. He’s more likely to offer helping you himself, or he listens to some music in another room, or he’s gaming. He’s not gonna disturb you doing what you like doing. He might enjoy seeing you please yourself with your fingers, just laying there half relaxed half on edge, but even then, he can’t stop stroking your thighs. It’s either no contact or full contact.

In the same vein: Those sexy black harnesses you bought for him to try on make his dorito body tingle in the oddest ways. Tip: Mail them to the Mercedes and McLaren garage instead. It will be highly appreciated. Sir Lewis, Prince George, and Mister Ricciardo will slay the house down on their social media with those. Lando will use them um, privately. Charles, and this is very chic and extra of him, prefers a nice homemade rope harness that’s specifically crafted by you. It’s just more intimate and beautiful because it’s temporary.

You tie it in front of two mirrors so he can see what you do in the back and front, and you always see his face, too. He prefers the more complicated stuff rather than just beginner’s bondage. Shibari is right up his alley. So, if ropes count as toys rather than accessories or tools, then this is it, this is the one. And I mean. This is no surprise. At all. It’s the nature of the sport. Every Formula 1 driver has the strongest safety belts and trains their body with harnesses on strings, you know the ones. That crazy painful G-Force neck and shoulder workout. If that’s not high-end BDSM, I don’t know. The creepy torture machines F1 drivers have in their gyms? Gives any dominatrix a run for her money. And tell me what kind of utensil Charles uses to warm up? A jump rope. Bingo. He has such a thing for that stuff.

Ropes aside. If we’re talking classic masturbation helpers: Charles’ skeptical gaze says miss me with that Jurassic Park stuff. Because that’s what toys look like to him. Would never use even the most basic toy on himself if his life depended on it. He might be curious, but Charles thinks it’s really embarrassing and gross to clean it all up. He doesn’t have time for that. The same goes for using anything on you, he just thinks his hands and thighs do a better job than „creepy dinosaur toes and purple plastic snails“ as he puts it. What on earth does he mean by purple snails, what has he seen? He refuses to elaborate. It’s probably better that way.

Besides, and he is honest here. This sinnamon roll had so much Quali traffic in his early years before he got to the main GP in this relationship — and he notoriously masturbates like a jackhammer, careful Charles don’t hurt yourself — he needed no fleshlight ever. That all amounts to Sharlie being on the fence with toys. Except, and we summarize: For nip stuff and bondage supplies. See the positives: No extra cupboard needed. And: That Charles is not a big tech enthusiast speaks volumes of his confidence to make you climax.

By the way: He thought lube is a lame alibi, while spit or being extremely horny are the answers. Fair enough, you can spit on his dick or in his mouth any day of the week. Essential skill. And you have no problems getting the hots for Charles. We’re talking wetter than Monaco 2022, and it has really been pouring down there. Meanwhile, your approach is the exact opposite. Tops see the whole thing from a different perspective. You would literally bathe in lube with Charles, swim in it, and: Roll out the big bottle on him when his ass is about to get destroyed. He will thank you on his knees and realize the value of a good lubricant. Charles is soon returning from the groceries with new stock.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s always the one who catches your eye by looking so good and tasty. Charles being so pretty and delicious really is a way of teasing. That logic cannot be argued with. But yes. You womanhandle the living shit out of him. Charles walking around with blue balls is the best thing ever. This shit will have him melting down because he tries to control himself so much. Which spurs him into even fiercer masturbation minutes later. You have some very sexy solo videos of him on your phone, with good lighting and sound quality.

Fairness as a whole? You do something good and caring for him, it goes on his mental list to make sure you feel reciprocated on the right occasion. Although he knows some people wouldn’t like that style of relationship, he sees a need for a certain back and forth. If you come home and give him the biggest hug ever, he will come home and give you the best back massage ever on the exact day where you feel tense. It’s not always reciprocating with the same thing, but with what’s appropriate.

I know: He’s the most blatant Libra ever. This man is ruled by Venus, baby. Mutual uplifting, he reveres his lady. Charles always nails the presents for you. As if his face was not the gift already, but that’s beside the point. He also creates proper quality time as often as he can, jet ski dates beloved. And there’s so much more, he never runs out of ideas. Charles’ thought process: „So many things to do with her!“

Amusement park rides at night, food buffets, motorboat cruises for two. Bowling. Pool billiards. Going to a swimming pool with artificial waves (so much fun). Baking you pizza with exquisite ingredients he bought with great care. Going to a top-class barber together. And the like. All presented to you with a wink. Not boring stuff like golfing — ugh — and blah, although he does flex his legs and silhouette there so props to that. If we’re talking fairness, he’s always more than that. Cash can’t buy love, but it can embellish it by making memories when it’s already there. Charles is using his money wisely.

This man rolls out the red carpet under your feet or throws himself into the puddle you walk across — and he is the celebrity. Let that sink in. Charles is fucking humble. Rather than thinking of himself as a walking piggy bank, a reason he won’t disclose is that he’s aware how his good pay when there’s a good reserve and you have that privileged opportunity, needs to be used for the present moment to do what it’s supposed to do. He has an actual reason to consider that there might be nobody who could eat a big pasta plate with you anymore by tomorrow. Carpe diem, baby.  

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Medium volume. At first. Guy doesn’t even know he can and will go much louder when it comes to… some type of pain play. Before he has to show up in the adjacent hotel rooms to go „Um excusez-moi“, it’s all constricted to your personal estates. So, he screams his lungs out at home for the most part („Oh, my ass—!“), and just breathes really hard everywhere else. Charles is any dom’s wet dream when he gets loud and responsive, and really creative with his expression. Makes you wanna say, good job, baby. He’s such a talker, too. Even mouth gags cannot stop him. And, as before. He is pleasant in every facet, so Charles’ sexy time noises are no different. Especially when he receives praise.  Oh my goodness me. The praise kink is real. He will cum in five seconds if the compliment hits right.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the person)

Your first time meeting? How else could it be, just days before a Grand Prix. And which GP? You guessed it. Miami. You got a free paddock pass for being an influencer and bumped into Charles at the fake marina just minutes before Free Practice: In your super skimpy bikini. And then you just made out with him after the race. Party in the city when the heat is on— No I’m just kidding. Of course you met in Monaco.

Alerted by some very strange noise outside, you scooped up this wet poodle of misery with your bare hands. From a random edgy premise at 4 AM, an empty low-rise socialite building you sort of lived next to. He crashed at this place after an unhinged party and really didn’t know why. A hungry as hell Charles floated in the water with swollen eyes, making the pool close to overflow with his tears. He was actually about to open an XXL flask of absinthe he got from a house bar to top it off. Yeah, fuck.

You were like, what’s going on there! You went down, squatted at the pool and said, put this bottle of poison away and come out, you need something to eat, man. Just because you can cleanse a wound with that liquid doesn’t mean it works on your soul. Thank God this house is vacant because I think you’re trespassing. And Charles went „oh mon Dieu I’m such a loser I’m the worst“ and you were like „no you’re just naked in cold water, let’s go upstairs“. And Charles was like „okay“ and reluctantly put the alcohol aside, even he didn’t have an idea where and who he was anymore at that point. Hell, he was already extremely drunk. You gave him your jacket to cover up down below, then helped him climb nothing short of 80 stairs with wet feet.

An XXL American-style deep-frozen pizza with extra pineapple later (to shock his Italian brain back to reality), Charles was rambling and rambling. With a mere towel around his hips, saying „guess I just give up and see what happens“. Eventually collapsing on the table face down, Charles ended up dragged into your bed. 69 kilogram and his legs were still on autopilot, so that was doable. Your couch was nice and comfy so you moved there after checking if you had anything toxic that Charles could drink in your flat while sleepwalking or waking up earlier than you. Just to be sure.

Months later, Charles said he thanks you for „not taking advantage“ of him then and there. It would have been easy to just take off the towel, or just do whatever thing with him. You say man, what the fuck Charles. You were a sobbing mess. This guy has really been surrounded by psychopaths, leeches, betrayers, and manipulators everywhere. Hell, Charles almost forgot his own name from all that crying. He needed a damn shelter, bed, and something warm to drink.

Back there, you felt like Edna Mode from the Incredibles giving her big speech on how to stand up and fight. You wound up driving Charles to the track the next day after getting hangover sushi for lunch. He asked for your number, and you said Charles, I work right here in the paddock. You’ll see me walk around, now eat this chocolate bar and put your chest out walking with pride. He said what, are you a good Samaritan, and you said no I just move some Formula 2 Pirellis around. Now get to work, there’s a title to win! Veni, vidi, vici! And off he goes.

So you just kept on rolling stuff around as always and saw Charles’ helmet turning whenever he passed you. You did wave at each other. Later in the afternoon, you saw the Ferrari team, soulless faces all around, in shambles during a routine stop. You came along and grumbled, why is everything so uncoordinated and untidy here. Step aside horse hoes, I will rearrange your tires, this is a safety hazard. The team said who the hell are you and Charles said wait she’s my friend. Okay so that’s how you’re rolling and rearranging things around for Ferrari, including Charles’ baby step confidence, but it’s not like he didn’t need it. Your logic is simple:

His iconic booty is already racing around at 300 kilometers per hour. In an oddly-shaped circle. He can steppy step on some pedestals and steery steer this little expensive computer wheel. He has sexy balaclava lines, great feet, and nice eyebrows. How could someone not win a championship like that. He just needs a team that can roll the tires correctly at the right point in time, that’s all. Bewildered, the Scuderia tells you mamma mia there is so much more to it, like what about this and that DRS issue and other teams and— but you insist, no folks. Stick to the basics first.

Busted suspension? Who the hell cares, duct tape is a thing, takes a good mechanic three seconds. Charles is just as fast regardless! He doesn’t even need the car, the car needs him. Corroded engine? Duct tape again. Rival teams are acting shady? Nobody cares! Just check if you have enough duct tape with you! Gotta focus on one damn goal! Just let Charles be good-looking and press some buttons and everything will be alright. Blend out the others, he should just be careful not to hurt himself or someone else. Just drive round and round and get tires when you think you need `em. That’s it. The motto has stuck with him since, actually.

Charles qualified third and won on Sunday. Big party, spell break celebrations, everything. He was crying right in front of you again. You agreed to meet for pizza without pineapple the next day. At your’s, because it’s cozier. This time, Charles — without a hangover — brought the pizza along and it was perfectly soppy in the middle, with crisp edges like his jawline, oh duh. Guess who was the happiest man on earth and got a little kiss on the nose goodbye.

Charles stumbled into the new race week a little love drunk which some mechanics noticed, but they were also too busy rolling around the tires the way you told them to. Since Charles suggested you travel to the next GP instead of working in F2, you packed your stuff and did as you always did next Sunday in Baku. Charles followed the exact guidelines and just sat there looking good, steering his Sharliemobile in a circle, the whole shebang, and earned P2. The curse truly was dissolved by the power of pineapple on pizza. It was like a reset for his neurons.

Charles had a new philosophy. Rule #1, if he made a mistake, he just shrugged and pressed another button. On it went, there was always another chance to slay. Rule #2, if somebody wronged him, he was unfazed, too fast to linger. After all, racing was nothing more than a hobby, and he knew what he was doing. The more Scandinavian the approach, the better. Charles didn’t need rehab or new team staff. He needed some Hygge in his life. On track, and with a partner. Ease in his body, ease in his mind.

Five weeks later, Charles asked if you could be his girlfriend because he had one big fat crush on you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Look at my horse, my horse is amazing. So we’re talking car equipment of the number one Monégasque Megawhore (trademarked). Now this Ferrari doesn’t have an engine failure nor faulty smokin’ breaks, believe me. And I mean. Look at this lil’ freak. His way of walking is the weirdest way of human movement. Charles’ shorts are always sitting suspiciously low. He constantly tweaks and pinches at his racing suit, it’s so painfully tight. Somebody save him.

He’s literally wearing swim trunks that say ICONIC on them, in bright neon so everyone will know and the competition can sashay away. Charles also has to spread his legs sluttishly wide when he sits down not to get super uncomfy. Come on man, pick up some loose trousers and close your legs instead of wearing fabric that holds everything in place and— Oh. Hum, what could that mean. Not one clue. But science tells. How on earth could he have had a rendezvous with every possible single his age if Charles had no one-size-fits-all dick. Seriously. It really has a bit of everything. An enviable universal appeal.

Very slight upward curve, but it’s well-aligned. No slant to the side. Mister Charles Leclerc junior stays off the track limits, baby. A proper tip, but it’s not disturbingly formed. Some sleek thickness to it, but he’s not too heavy nor just — awkwardly flops around. Yikes. Nothing like that here. He’s not really huge, and he’s not really small. Because he’s Charles, he has lied about his inches total, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s nice and meaty the way he is. You’re particular about this, but you like your hand wrapped around him. Charles holds his breath when you do that. He’s just on edge, don’t make fun of him.

He’s not too flexible either, but also not one thrust away from his dick breaking in half. Doesn’t look cut, but he’s also not uncut. Not veiny, but it’s also flushed and light. Yes, I know — It’s still hard to picture it. So let’s just say it looks very good like everything on his man. No big news. You’ll make it clear to him, nothing to be insecure about. After all these phone numbers he got, Charles is still not happy and finds flaws? Damn. To raise his esteem, what do you do? Well, not what has failed to lift his esteem in the past: More sex. Instead, you’re doodling cute NSFW caricatures into his burn book to make him laugh. Laughing is the best medicine. Who knew silly drawings could make him feel better about himself, but it works.

And last but not least. Pubic hair. Of course, as dark as his legendary eyebrows. It’s the Italiano in him, va bene. Even a close shave will not get rid of the shadow underneath the skin. It’s not too messy, not too stubbly. All in all, class act.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Charles is on fire. Boy started wilding topless since the year began. If the season is shit, he can at least be down bad. By the sheer power of languages, Charles has French, Spanish, and Italian style libido combined. He could not keep this up without an equally horny partner. They need to have an obsessive craving for his body. Your guy does not leave the house without condoms. He is ready anytime there is relative privacy, and you are dying to rip his pants down. Charles gets hard pretty fast.

What kills his yearning is a bad day at work, and that has consequences. Seeing Charles struggle has the same effect on you. It doesn’t comfort either of you to just postpone your vexation and replace it with an orgasm. Nor is it a good idea to fuck Charles if his body had to deal with the enormous impact of thudding against a track wall. When he is worn out and depressed, it’s no good to milk him for attention or pleasure. Fatigue is extremely tough to alleviate with sex, whether that be vanilla or not. Charles has no other solution for that than time. You feel for him when he’s retiring the car or missing crucial points. In fact, you cannot comprehend how Charles can bear this inhumane level of constant misfortune and mishandling of his career.

In the same vein, and exactly because Charles cannot stand you looking as ruffled as him, your boyfriend caters to your every need when you have cramps and feel no libido at all. When you feel sick, this stuff is constantly in his head. He thinks, she must feel so uneasy. Or, I hope I wasn’t too loud in the morning making breakfast. Recently, Pierre has given Charles an instructive TED talk on how to mend cramps and body aches. So that advice will be in action, although Charles has to text Pierre to repeat bits and pieces sometimes. „Je suis désolé. My brain is a sieve.“

Charles adds his own touch by cheering you up with his prettiness (very effective) and cuddly body heat, which is the perfect mix. During those days, he seems to be obsessed with peppering your head with countless kisses, and you actually switch positions for once, he big-spoons you. So his hands can go rub rub and say „sorry that you are hurt, mon coeur“. Charles can’t stop kissing and kissing and putting his face in your hair, too. He’s touchier than usual without even being conscious of it, and he doesn’t celebrate a pole for longer than an hour when you’re at a hotel, tucked into bed nauseous.

You didn’t expect him to hurry back to the place you’re staying at, but it’s a pleasant surprise. He brought a ton of your favorite snacks from the groceries. Bébé spent a  fucking fortune. Big ass sandwich, pastries, choco cake, muffins, that one ramen that just never fails to taste amazing, tangy cookies, a mango, paprika crisps, brioche, croissants, and strawberries. Express pain killers and pads your size on top. Boom.

Could he be a better boyfriend? Except for the fruit, he can’t eat any of it because of his diet, but he’s happy to see you eat. He admits it… since Charles doesn’t want to cheat his food plan too much, he lives vicariously through you a little there. You can literally pick from the whole store and stock up without going there. Charles, you legend. He’s so nonchalant about it and just goes to order you some tea from the hotel kitchen, serving it like a butler at the bed. You are the queen of Monaco. Charles also calls you a cute little hamster, though. Hamster mom to be exact, and he is hamster papa, fluffy as he is with that hair.

His recent specialty is helping you shower, picture this pup with a big ole sponge asking „is this okay“ every other second. He genuinely helps. Sometimes, it makes your heart sink that Charles extends more endless concern towards your painful days than toward himself, and you do tell him that. Charles realizes that he could inspire himself from the acts of service he does for you because some driver self-care never hurt anyone. It’s okay to eat a little snack for the soul every now and then.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Before sex, he tends to keep himself awake and ready by doing some light exercises. Warms up his muscles, warms up his torso, which gives off a snuggly heat when you make love. His favorite time of the day to have sex is in the evening. After all that hustle and bustle is long faded, he’s slacking off, he’s showered and shaved again. Only so many hours in a race week — Charles can enter the twilight zone in ten minutes after. Until then, you make sure everything’s cleaned up and dressed up and wound down and switched off. It all follows a certain regimen.

Sleep becomes extremely valuable when you’re on the move. You are 24/7 adventurers and travel enthusiasts, dwelling at a new quay every week to watch the water. Charles and you always look for interesting protected places to go. Charles has his arm across your shoulders often because he is just so huggy. You sometimes fall asleep in a different country than where you wake up, the jet lag is real here. Which also means, you don’t just go all night and forget the rest of the day. Resting as a couple is your number one hobby more than you assumed. It's good to chill with your honey to recharge. The best place to sleep is on your bébé’s chest to hear and feel him breathe.

Charles can’t sleep without you laying down on top of him. More often than not, he gets pretty bizarre dreams otherwise. If you can call it dreams. All kinds of unsolicited graphic nightmares, and that’s a far better description, can drive him into a 4 AM scare, and a gut-wrenching discomfort until he rolls over to you, gladly thinking „everything’s fine, everything still there as it always is“. He often plays with your hair in his sleep to calm himself down. You do the same, he tells you, when you’re the one being exhausted. Who can blame ya. Charles Leclerc… Sleeping beauty right there. Caressing each other is a natural antidote to a bad night.

read charles a-z on ao3

✿ FINAL NOTE. ⇢ i just wanted to post something sexy and instead i’ve been writing and crying my heart out 😔 thanks for reading, i hope this hit home and made y’all laugh. look at my horse, my horse is amazing 🙌 reblogs and esp comments always welcome 💞

© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

#charles leclerc #f1 smut #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc scenario #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc hc #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 scenario #smut a-z #smut alphabet #formula 1 drivers #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc headcanon #f1 headcanon #sub!charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine

[jadedxhearts]

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

You and Law decide to take your relationship to the next level, despite both being new to sex. It’s a new experience for the two of you, together.

originally posted on Dec 16, 2022

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

With the Polar Tang submerged fully into the ocean, late in the night, it was rather quiet. The crew was either already asleep or doing the night shift of monitoring the control room.

The room which you were currently within was dimly lit, only a few candles to illuminate the space around you.

You laid in bed with Law, who’d been placing light kisses along your neck. He slowly trailed up to your lips, this time placing a more firm kiss onto you. A much more passionate one. One that felt so heavy and not innocent in the slightest.

Law didn’t typically take things too far with you. While it had been close to a year that you’d officially been dating, Law was a reserved man who was afraid of being vulnerable. Hence why things hadn’t progressed much as far as intimacy goes.

But tonight was different. Law had been hinting at wanting to go further; all the way in with you. While nervous, you honestly felt the same. You knew that the both of you were incredibly inexperienced in that field, but it was honestly comforting to know you’d be learning with him. You didn’t need to somehow impress Law. And on top of that, he’s a doctor and knows the body well. That was most comforting to know.

But as Law placed a heavy, wet kiss onto your neck, you felt that tonight was going to be the night. And by the way Law was nibbling at your skin, leaving marks, you knew that he felt the same.

“Law, do you… think we’re ready?” You asked, a hint of worry in your voice.

Law froze, removing his lips from your skin and moving to lean on his elbows so that he could look directly at you. He seemed to ponder over it for just a moment, before nodding. “Yeah.”

So now the awkward part, how did you even get started with it? You’d never gotten this far with any past lover, and you were Law’s first partner altogether.

After a moment of hesitation from the both of you, Law finally sat up onto his knees, hovering over you. “Lay on your back,” he instructed.

And you listened, leaning back into the plush pillows behind you. Law then moved closer, lowering himself to rest on top of you, and resumed his kisses from before. Only this time, they were even more hot and wet.

When he bit down on your bottom lip, you unwillingly let out a soft moan. Your eyes went wide and your face turned red immediately.

Law paused too, but he seemed… turned on.

“…Law?”

“Fuck, y/n-ya. I- I want to hear you again,” he stuttered.

His reaction now had you feeling hot too, and so you decided to be a little bold and slip off your shirt, revealing your bra. It wasn’t that Law had never seen you in it, but he’d never seen you in it in this type of context.

With shaky, hesitant hands, Law placed them onto the skin just under your breasts, feeling your soft skin. But you wanted more. You grabbed his hands with your own and guided them up and under your bra, allowing him to feel the plushness of your chest.

Despite him trying to hide it, you could see Law’s face was red too. He seemed incredibly flustered. You only hoped he wouldn’t back out, now.

Letting go of his hands, you reached around to unhook the garment and slip it off of yourself, leaving your top half entirely bare with Law’s tattooed hands the only thing covering you.

As he began moving his hands, you realized only then how cold they were, and you let out a soft gasp when he brushed his palm over your nipple.

Law noticed your reaction, and decided to see if he could get any more out of you. Gently, he squeezed the skin, groping at your breasts. You brought a hand to your lips to try and cover any noises, but they began slipping through nonetheless. And when Law decided to pinch one of your buds between his fingers, you moaned again.

“Your reactions are so cute,” he mused, smirking down at you with newfound confidence. He pinched harder.

“Mmh-! Law…”

He seemed to get another idea, and you watched as he lowered his head to your chest, licking a stripe down your breast and taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it.

“Oh, Law- mmm,” you whined, biting down on your lip.

He removed his face with a pop, and pulled away from you to start undoing his jeans.

He only pulled them down just enough to get the job done, but stopped for a moment. Placing his hands onto the hem of your shorts, he looked into your eyes.

“Can I undress you?” He asked, with sincere concern on his expression. You knew he was afraid to hurt you.

But you could only nod, words not seeming to form for you anymore. With your approval, Law slipped your shorts off, leaving you in just your panties now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he admired your form underneath him, placing loving grasps along your thighs, rubbing the soft skin.

You only wanted to hide more, but there was nowhere to go. All you could do was put your arms over your face.

“No,” he suddenly snapped.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just want to see your face. Every expression you make.”

“Oh,” you said, moving your arms away, folding them over your stomach.

But then you gasped again, louder this time, as you felt Law’s fingers rubbing at your heat through your panties, getting them wet from all he was doing to you. His fingers traced up and down along your folds, and he only stopped when you suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Take them off, Law… fuck, I need to feel your fingers,” you whined, face turning even more red at the way you were talking. It felt so foreign and filthy to you.

Law nodded, hooking his fingers at the bands and pulling them down, lifting your legs just enough to slide them off. He observed the wetness left on them before tossing them off to the side.

Then, his focus was back on you… onto your cunt, now. You knew he’d never seen a real one. Just whatever was in medical books. Law seemed… mesmerized.

“It’s interesting how wet you can get, just from that,” he spoke, placing his fingers back onto you, barely dipping them between your folds to collect some of your juices onto his fingers. He pulled his hand away to get a closer look.

What you didn’t expect was for him to bring his fingers to his lips, licking the juices off.

“Hmm,” was all he said, before bringing his hand back to your soaked heat.

Using both hands now, he poked and prodded, just trying to get a feel of you. He ran his fingers back between you, lathering up more of your wetness onto his fingers, before pulling his fingers up to graze your clit.

When his fingers made contact with the sensitive bud, you let out the loudest moan yet. The most embarrassing one, too.

“I thought that might happen,” Law said, smirking once again.

So, he went back in, sliding his fingers between your folds and then rubbing your clit. You whined more, already feeling over-sensitive to his touches.

But that feeling only grew stronger when he finally slid a finger into your cunt, getting a feel at the inside before inserting another finger. You writhed and squirmed at the way his fingers rubbed against your walls, feeling every little bump or ridge, the way you felt warm on the inside.

“Law, f-fuck, I’m gonna-“

He pulled his fingers out as soon as you spoke.

“No. Not without me,” he decided.

So, Law slipped his jeans down a little bit more and freed himself, revealing his cock to you.

You knew Law would be… larger, but it was simply intimidating to you. Maybe it was simply because you’d never even seen one before.

You wanted to look away, but couldn’t. You just kept looking, half in awe and half in horror.

“H-how is that meant to fit in me?!” You blurted out, starting to panic a little.

Law’s hands gently grabbed your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be okay, y/n. I would never hurt you.”

He then moved his hands under your hips to bring them closer to him, positioning you underneath him. Leaving one hand on your hip, he brought the other one to your right hand, taking it into his own and resting them beside your head.

“Just tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you confirmed.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you took in a deep breath as Law slid himself into you, with much ease due to how wet he’d gotten you beforehand. You hissed, squeezing his hand and gripping at the sheets beneath you at the stretch of his cock. He felt so big, like he was splitting you into two. But somehow, you found yourself wanting more.

Law didn’t move, but he groaned and threw his head down into the pillows just beside your own head, now squeezing your hand in return.

“F-fuck, y/n… you’re squeezing me so well, so… fucking… tight, shit-“

Law couldn’t help but jerk his hips a little, the feeling of your walls clamping down onto his cock nearly sending him over, and he hadn’t even begun moving.

“You’re so… big,” you told him with tears in your eyes, “it… hurts but- almost, fuck, feels… good.”

Law let go of your hip to bring his other hand to your face, wiping the tears away from your eyes and cupping your cheek to kiss you deeply. “I won’t move until you ask,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”

You moved your hand away from the sheets and to his back, clinging onto him to try and ground yourself. You stayed like this for a few more moments before nodding, “you can move.”

Law slowly moved his hips back before pushing them forward. He repeated this motion until you fully eased into the stretch, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Fuck, I… I want more,” you moaned.

“But, y/n-ya. What if you get hurt?” Law questioned, worry evident on his face.

“I won’t,” you reassured him, “I want to make you feel good, I wanna please you, Law. I… I love you.”

Law swore he could’ve cum alone from your words. His cock twitched a little, hips shaking. He felt overwhelmed, but it felt good.

“I… love you too,” he grunted, “but are you sure, though? I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back if I start.”

“I’m… certain,”another whine slipped out, “I’m sure I’ll be begging for more, anyway,” you said with a giggle.

“Okay,” Law said. But he still seemed hesitant.

“I trust you, Law.”

That was all he needed to hear before he began thrusting at a steady pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. You began moaning and whining loudly, nails digging into his back.

“Harder, Law, please,” you cried.

Law groaned at the way you egged him on, speeding up his pace and hitting into you at a deeper angle, filling you up to the core. The harder he went, the louder your moans grew. Eventually, Law’s hand slipped out of yours to grasp at your hips, getting a tight grip on you before gently slamming into you, getting lost in his pleasure.

You moans were nearly screams, and he was certain the whole ship would know what you two were doing if you continued on. But that didn’t stop him. Law kept going, groaning and biting at his lip the whole time.

“Fuck, Law, you’re filling me so well, feels so good, baby, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, blabbing on and saying things you’d never thought could come out of your mouth.

“F-fuck,” was all Law could mutter before spilling his hot cum into you, barely processing what was going on anymore.

You whined some more as you came around him, your juices mixing with his seed, spilling out of your cunt as he slowed down, shaking with every slower thrust.

Eventually, Law came to a full stop inside you, and let go of your hips to collapse partially on top of you. He leaned on a forearm, bringing his other hand to brush some hair out of your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you panted, “it… felt so good.”

Law let out a breathy chuckle, placing an open mouthed kiss onto your opened lips.

“I told you I’d want more,” you giggled. “In fact, I think… as soon as we’re rested-“

“How about we take a shower, and then we’ll see?” Law suggested, kissing your cheek.

“Mhm, sounds good,” you kissed him back and wrapped your arms around him, holding him close and smiling to yourself at how careful and sweet your boyfriend was being. This night only made you fall deeper in love with him, and for him it was all the same.

#law x reader #law x reader smut