𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

Lewis Hamilton on Charles Leclerc:

“Of all in the grid, he’s the one I want to race alongside the most. It doesn’t matter how bad your team is, coming from the back of a title or not. If the opportunity to race alongside Charles comes up, you say yes. You tell me: what if it doesn’t work out? I tell you: what if it does?”

me. me when a poem says something ive felt before

“Who cares if I’m pretty if I fail my finals?”

now someone tell me why i wrote about his fucking ugly scarf back in april

since some people (AHEM) have decided to torture me tonight, i’ll share some quick stuff from my notes

after the show alex is very in the mood and he asks you to let him do something and you trust him enough to let him do anything he wants to you.

he takes off his scarf that was tied round his neck the whole show and wraps it around your eyes, blindfolding you essentially.

he then takes all your clothes off until you’re only wearing his scarf, and the fact that you could only feel him, his fingertips tracing your skin, not knowing what he would do next, was getting you off so much, feeling wet already.

he flips you so he can grind his clothed erection into your ass and you gasp but he asks you to be good and stay quiet so people won’t hear. he mutters something like “you’re dripping all over my trousers, wanna ruin them, huh?”

he just takes his cock out not bothering to undress himself, needing to be inside you as soon as possible. and he starts fucking you from behind, your tits pressing up against the wall with every thrust but you can’t stop yourself from moaning as his dick slides so deliciously in and out of you, not being able to see anything only adding more to it, making all you’re feeling more intense, and you’re way too loud for his liking.

so he moves the scarf, but doesn’t take it off completely, instead he settles it lower on your face as a gag and orders you to not make any more sounds. he has a hard time himself keeping it down, he settles on biting your shoulder harshly to muffle his grunts, to stop himself from making too much noise.

and instead of letting out a cry, the only thing you can do is drool around the silk, feeling it drip down your chin and sticking to the wall, staining it, as your face presses against it when alex’s hips start rutting into you harder and harder.

he cums all over your back, painting you with his warm release.

he removes the patterned fabric from your mouth, wiping off the drool from your face and then he uses it to wipe his seed from your back aswell, stuffing it into his jacket once he’s done.

I want to be so disgustingly over educated that the second anyone has a question they automatically know I have the answer to it

me: finds intelligence hot

also me: unconditionally and furiously despises anyone who is even slightly better than me at anything

I return to myself. I drown in my solitude, literature, learning, languages, late night studies, and unhealthy amounts of coffee.