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#this is fun! she did NOT sign up for this! fuck!
leclercstarrs · 15 hours
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the interview.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!interviewer!reader.
warnings: none.
in which the internet notices a certain formula one driver in your instagram likes.
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yourusername 📍 new york city
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liked by zendaya, charles_leclerc, and 274,681 others
yourusername still in shock rn. nyc is beautiful and interviewing the cast of challengers was such a huge moment 🫶🏻 amazing cast and brilliant movie!
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zendaya you’re literally the sweetest 💗 thank you for the interview! such a fun time!
yourusername stop, i am such a fangirl.
user3 girl you always have so much chemistry with the celebrities you interview
user12 deadass 😭 she had both of those boys blushing and down badddd
user36 i NEED to see this movie rn
yourusername you do!! it’s wonderful
user63 any f1 fans here? did yall see charles in the likes?? 👀
user7 omg glad someone else noticed that! i wonder if she’s going to interview some drivers
user4 yesss, do they know each other?
user63 no i don’t think so, he doesn’t follow her, maybe he has a crush 😙😂
yourusername uploaded a story
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charles_leclerc miami, hopefully. 🙃
yourusername 📍 miami
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liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 481,622 others
yourusername i’m out here in miami… 🌴
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user42 iconic caption, you’re iconic
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charles_leclerc i was right, what’s my prize?
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user7 CHARLES?? WHAT? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
user63 huh??? oh my??
f1 excited for this week…😍👀
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user7 y/n l/n in her f1 era?? is she going to do the driver interviews for the miami gp?
user12 i hope so, she’s amazing
user92 miami?? charles in the likes?? charles is in miami?? the miami gp is coming up?? is this a hint y/n??
liked by yourusername
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 538,393 others
yourusername loving miami and the atmosphere. the first round of interviews with the @.f1 drivers is out now, i hope you guys enjoy because i definitely did, such wonderful and inspiring people! see you guys tomorrow 👀🙏
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f1 thank you! you are incredible and we’re honoured to have you joining us this week!
liked by yourusername
mclaren 🧡 thanks for interviewing us
user12 ferrari boys next?!
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maxverstappen1 ❤️👍
lewishamilton it was nice to meet you! 😊
user54 gorgeous as always
lance_stroll ☺️ thank you for the wonderful interview
pierregasly alpine next?
yourusername of course 😗
charles_leclerc i’m ready for my interview y/n
yourusername only if you bring me some lec icecream ngl..
charles_leclerc deal. what flavour?
user7 I AM GOING INSANE WTH IS THIS!!
user63 get a room fr
joaofelix79 when are you going to interview me?!😯
yourusername omg i’d be honoured. name the time and place, i’ll be there 🏃🏼‍♀️⚽️
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 639,219 others
yourusername all of the formula one interviews are officially posted on my youtube channel! hope you all love them and got some new and fun information on your favourite drivers! xx 🏎️💋
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user12 the tension in the charles interview?? insanity
user82 she’s better than me i would’ve been folding and on my knees in seconds with the way charles was acting
charles_leclerc going to miss seeing you around, had fun talking with you
yourusername same here 💗
user7 y’all are fucking with me ik you’re going to film more interviews together…right?
user45 ASK HER OUT CHARLES
user9 petition for more interviews with y/n and charles
user12 signing rn!!
user30 SIGNED
f1 hopefully you’ll be working with us again in the future ☺️ thank you for everything!
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yourusername uploaded a story
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user19 HELLO?? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS CHARLES
user12 OH MY 😨 Y/N & CHARLES??
charles_leclerc ofc, i had to see you again.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername and 2,582,148 others
charles_leclerc first of many dates
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yourusername wow i guess my interviewing skills are 10/10, so good you had to ask me out
charles_leclerc 🙄🙄 i guess
user82 SUCH A CUTE COUPLE
user12 she’s stunning!
liked by charles_leclerc
user9 i knew he wanted her
oscarpiastri ❤️ cute
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Birthday Wish | Jung Wooyoung
-> Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader
-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account.
-> Synopsis: Wooyoung surprises reader on her birthday.
-> Warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff I wrote for my birthday last year.
-> Word Count: 944
-> Requests: Open.
ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 woojoongstreasure - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead
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Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 
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“Happy Birthday, Jagiya!” Wooyoung screamed at the top of his lungs as he enters Y/N’s bedroom, interrupting the video call she is on with her friend who is currently overseas, working abroad for a year.   
Having not heard him come into her room until he screamed, she jumped and spun around quickly to face him and scold him. “What the fuck, Woo?”  
Instead of apologizing, he smiles wide, seeming proud of himself as he holds up the cake decorated with her favorite animal, which just so happens to be foxes, towards her and repeats what he had screamed a moment ago but this time more quietly. “Happy birthday!”   
“Thank you,” She sighs knowing she can’t be mad at the man who had stolen her heart the moment they met during their trainee days.   
He places the cake on her top of her dresser, before wrapping his arms around her and placing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She scrunches up her face feeling the wetness against her cheek. Even though she should be used to his affection, after all the years of knowing him, her cheeks still burn red, heart racing.  
“Who is that?” they hear, reminding Y/N she’s still on a video call with her friend.  
“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath before picking up her phone, still wrapped in Wooyoung’s arms. “Sorry, it was just Wooyoung, coming to surprise me.”  
“That’s Wooyoung?” she questions, causing Y/N’s cheeks to grow hotter as her blush deepens. Her friend on the phone is the one she always goes to when she wants to talk about him and her massive crush on him. She’s one of the two people who know about it. While Yeosang didn’t tease her about it, her only female best friend sure did.  
“Hello,” Wooyoung leans on her shoulder, greeting her friend before she could properly introduce them.   
“Hi,” her friend greets back. “It’s nice to finally meet you but I must go. Just remembered I have a few things to do. Make sure our Y/Nnie has a lot of fun today!”  
“I definitely will!” he assures her.   
“Good,” she smiles. “I’ll talk to you later, Y/Nnie,” she adds before ending the call.  
Once the call is over, Wooyoung snatches her phone out of her hand and slides it into his pocket before picking up the cake and walking out of her bedroom without saying anything.  
“What are you doing?” she asks, following him and sounding a little annoyed. “Give me my phone back.”  
“Ya!” He growls and slaps her hand away when she tries to take it from his pocket. “You can have it back later.”  
“But what if eomma calls me,” she pouts, glaring at him.   
“I’ll talk to her,” he replies as they reach the kitchen. He puts the cake on the kitchen counter and turns to face her. “We both know that she loves me more.”  
“Only because she doesn’t have an actual son,” she scoffs. She’s the eldest of three daughters. It’s her mother who always goes on about having no sons, unlike her sister who has four sons and no daughters. “And I’m pretty sure she loves Yeosang and Yunho more than you.”  
He looks at her like she just offended him by suggesting he isn’t her mother’s favorite. He’d been the second to meet her mother, after Yeosang who’s known Y/N since they were babies, their families being neighbors since before they were born.  
“If she wants an actual son, I’ll just marry you and make it official,” he says as he rummages through one of her kitchen drawers to find the matches she keeps for her candles.  
Y/N freezes, her cheeks burning red even more than before, her heart thumping against her chest and her mind racing with thoughts that she’s unable to speak aloud due to not being able to speak at all in this moment.  
When she doesn’t say anything, he looks at her, his face the most serious she’s ever seen it. “What do you say? Should we get married?”  
“I uh... I,” her brain was malfunctioning as she tried to pull together a sentence that would make sense.  
“I should probably take you on a date first,” he says more to himself as he lights the candle on the cake. He picks it back up and brings it over to her. She’s still standing there looking at him, stunned. “Make a wish,” he adds holding the cake up higher.  
“Are you being serious?” she asks, finally able to speak even though her heart and mind are still racing. “You can’t say stuff like that if you-”  
She’s cut off by Wooyoung crashing his lips to hers, stunning her even more. “I’m being serious. I’ve been in love with you since we met too,” he tells her, his beautiful deep brown eyes boring into hers, letting her know just how serious he’s being. “We won’t get married right away but I want you to know that if we start a relationship, I’m in it for life. That includes marriage, kids, and everything else that comes with it. Now make a wish.”  
“I don’t need to anymore,” she tells him tell him before blowing out the candle. She takes the cake from him, putting it back on the kitchen counter, before pulling him in for another kiss. “I now have everything I could wish for.”  
Before Wooyoung could respond, her phone lets her know she’s got a notification. He takes it out of his pocket and hands it to her. She unlocks her phone and finds a text from Yeosang.  
‘Happy Birthday, Y/Nnie! Enjoy your day with Woo. Thank me later tonight.’ 
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sadlynotthevoid · 2 days
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If I had a nickel for everytime I dreamed that Lily was kidnapped and Og!Cale ran looking out for her, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice.
In the first one, Lily got kidnapped in the Capital and og!Cale instantly started running around, doing detective work but also really in panic. At some point he figured out who could have a hint on Lily's kidnapper, but the person in question was in the castle dungeons. So he went and straight entered in a room where Alberu was having a meeting with other nobles, not caring at all who was there, and asked him to sign a permission.
Og!Cale: *opens the door* Your Highness, sign this! *Slams form on the table*
Alberu, who wasn't expecting a random noble to crash his office: ...
The nobles: *shoked in victorian era* ...
Alberu: how did you got here?
Og!Cale: I flew through the third floor entry. It has my mom's name on it. More important, I'm in a hurry. So could you sign it already?
Alberu, confused as fuck because 'wdym by third floor entry? That's just a window': *reads the paper* permission to visit the dungeons? Why do—
Og!Cale, too worried to even keep his trash act and also practically a mind reader (not really): My sister was kidnapped and that guy may know where she could be. As I said, I'm in a hurry.
Alberu: That's terrible. *About to sign it* Is there any other way I can help?
Random noble: Excuse me?! Your Highness, this is not according to the protocol. I had to wait for months after my solicitude was sent to have this meeting. Why does he get a special treatment?!
Og!Cale, without paying an eye: Aren't you that Viscount that keeps wasting big sums on gifts for a mistress? *To Alberu* I guess he's asking money "for his territory". I bet he spent all his budget and is trying to hide it from his wife.
The noble: *pales* That— you— Your Highness, I can explain *faints*
Alberu: *sighs* I'll have someone investigate it. *Signs the form* Is there anything else I need to know?
Og!Cale, already exiting the room with the permission at hand: *tilts head* I've heard that people had been dissapearing in the Southwest region. *Narrows eyes* Huh. It's near the Gyerre territory now that I think about it.
Og!Cale: Anyways, goodbye. *Leaves*
Alberu, absentmindedly: So that's what father meant when he said redheads are "a crazy force of nature that could destroy a little country without force".
Antonio, who happened to be in the meeting: *silently having an existential crisis*
It turned out that the culprit was Og!Cale's past teacher (yes, that guy) who was working with traffickers. He wanted to see whether Og!Cale would resolve his "little game" or he would "lose" (have Lily sold before someone finds them). He also kinda hates her because "he lost his student by her fault" (no, it wasn't her fault. He's just crazy).
Og!Cale found out where Lily was being held and he, along with a pair of knights, went for her. All of them had a fun time beating the creepy bastard.
Then Og!Cale walked to their house carrying Lily on his arms.
In the second one, a monster-like creature broke into Lily's room, took her and flew away. Og!Cale was sitting on his bedroom's window and saw his little sister being taken away by a blurr of mass. He jumped out of the window to follow, of course. Then the knights saw a thing flying over their heads and the young master speedruning after it.
Og!Cale: Come back here!
Hillsman: Young master Cale?!
Og!Cale: What are you doing?! Stop that thing! It has Lily!
Knights: Ah! *Start chasing the thing too*
I don't know what happened next because I woke up.
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leporellian · 2 days
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OH FUCK I DIDN'T THINK THERE WERE PEOPLE ON TUMBLE WHO CARED ABT OPERA HI!!!
im like. i feel like im quite opera stupid compared to Opera People(tm) but i grew up with it so ive seen a whole lot of em
my parents both work in the biz in the way where like. a normal person doesn't know who the fuck they are but i am trying to be vague bc it's extremely possible you would?
anyway point being i am SO used to this being an extremely lame secret i can't tell anyone abt (i got to be a super once and had to literally BEG my friends to come see me even tho it was a comp ticket and even now they joke abt how the fact they still speak to me after sitting through it is a sign they must REALLY like me </3) so it's SO VERY COOL seeing someone else who likes it out here in the wild blue yonder hi hi hi hi hi
hello!!! there are a great deal many of us who love opera here!!! :)
if you'd like to see more opera blogs like myself the trick is usually to go either to the tags of individual operas or to '#opera tag'- '#opera' is a bit too general and gets overrun with aesthetic blogs and the like, haha. a lot of the blogs i interact w/ are also opera blogs too so feel free to check them out
also the 'opera being this weird thing everyone makes fun of' thing is SO REAL. for much of my life, barring my late grandmother, i was the only person i knew irl who loved opera on the level i did. it was at the level that, before she saw for herself, my mom thought papageno and figaro and the rest of them were imaginary friends or original characters i came up with LMFAO. i was often bullied for it as a kid and it was seen as that Weird Stupid Thing only i liked... the fact i was visibly autistic did not help matters either. for so long i was the only one, and it was only here on tumblr that i found people who liked it the way i did- it was only really after my high school graduation that i found people like myself in person.
and don't worry about feeling Opera Stupid- i regularly feel quite Opera Stupid and i am at a theatre college working towards a career in opera dramaturgy. i think everyone feels Opera Stupid at some point (and people that never do are they actually 'opera stupid' ones...)
i hope you enjoy your stay!! welcome to opera tumblr :)
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kevin
kevin was a familiar sort of man for annie, as a therapist. he was a well-off businessman, powerful in his own kingdom, good at navigating life with a hot and crazy wife, and who had a hard time making sense of his teenage daughter.
she liked talking to him. he was a good talker, funny, and more than willing to share lots of explicit details. he told her about realizing early in his marriage he had to make time to really pound the shit out of his wife in bed every morning to keep her in a good mood all day. he told her he'd learned that his wife would always ask for him to cum inside her, but in reality she preferred it when he came all over her, making a mess of her that she had to take some time to clean up. annie could tell that kevin clocked the way annie was shifting in her seat as he told her this -- she was wet and he knew it. but he didn't comment on it. he told her he and his wife rarely had sex at night when their daughter was young, but how he'd learned to notice when she'd trimmed her pubic hair down to almost nothing it was a signal she wanted to make time to have an evening fuck, too.
"is your wife a naked around the house kind of woman?"
"yes," he said, smiling. "i wouldn't have it any other way. of course, now my daughter is that way too."
"really?" annie said. "she doesn't cover herself up around you?"
"no," he said. "i see everything."
"that's a sign of trust," annie said. "trust and confidence."
"it's funny though," he said. "you know, when my wife is all trimmed up that's a good sign. but i like it when the opposite is true with sienna."
"you like when she's not shaved because that means she's not having sex with anyone?"
he laughed. "yeah. is that awful? patriarchal and awful?"
"no," annie said. "i mean, most girls sort of like a sense of possessiveness."
"even from their fathers?"
"especially," annie said. "but also, it doesn't mean she's having sex for sure."
"what else would it be for?" he asked.
"just being horny," she said. "you know, we tend to focus on that part of ourselves when we're using it a lot. even just by ourselves."
"do women do that a lot?" he asked. "i mean, seriously. i know my wife does it but she never admits to it."
"that's funny," annie said. "i always thought that was a stereotype."
"women who don't admit to masturbating?"
"yeah," annie said. "i have always been upfront with my partners about it."
"i'm sure men like that," he said.
"especially when you tell them you jerked off before a date so you wouldn't immediately jump their bones," she said.
kevin grinned. "you're way more fun than the average therapist," he said. "and prettier." he coughed nervously. "sorry."
"it's fine," annie said. "i mean, i don't mind being told i'm pretty."
"how often do women jerk off then?" he asked.
"i do it every day," annie said. "sometimes a few times. i did it this morning in bed, and i have an hour before my next session, and i will probably do it again."
"in here?" he said.
"on that couch," annie grinned.
"you have touched yourself on this couch?"
"i've had sex on that couch," she said.
he patted the couch appreciatively. "nice."
annie laughed.
"people talk about sex in here a lot," he observed.
"yes," she said.
"how often do you get turned on during sessions?"
annie laughed. "pretty often."
"that's not only exciting but just kind of... it feels like proof that you're listening."
"i'm glad you see it that way," annie said.
as they wound down their session, kevin said, "i guess you want to get me out of here so you can... you know."
"do a little DJing?" annie joked.
he laughed. "yes," he said. "i mean, i'd gladly stick around..."
"you can," she said.
"really?" he said, surprised that his joking-but-not-joking cover had actually worked.
"sure," annie said. "we're off the clock. you want to watch me touch myself?"
"very much," he said.
annie decided to be fairly reserved -- she took off her skirt but left on her panties, which were here fairly standard white cotton bikini briefs, and sat in her chair and reached in and started touching herself. kevin stared.
"do you like to be watched?" he asked.
"yes," she moaned.
"will you take off your panties for me?" he asked.
"okay," she said. she slipped them off and tossed them toward her desk. he looked at her bald pussy and grinned. "perfect," he said.
annie was working herself up pretty rapidly. "i'm gonna cum," she told him.
"good girl," he said.
annie yelped as she climaxed. she convulsed a little in her chair and then collapsed and licked her fingers.
"will you think of me differently now?" she asked him.
he thought about it. "no," he said. "as soon as i met you, i pictured you doing that kind of thing. and worse."
"like what?" she asked, smiling.
"like taking my cock up your ass."
annie grinned. "straight up my ass huh? not even gonna lick a girl's pussy first?"
"nope," he said, "right up your ass whether you like it or not."
annie held her tongue. she was going to ask for it, but thought she might better enjoy the road where she didn't give permission.
"you should get out of my office before you do something you regret," she said.
she got up and walked toward her desk to get her underwear. he followed her, and bent her over the desk. annie gasped as she hit the wood.
"shut the fuck up," he told her, pulling out his cock and pushing it into her.
she wasn't ready of course. she liked that she wasn't ready. it fucking hurt. he pounded her ass for 30 exquisitely brutal seconds, cumming somewhere in the middle of it. then he pulled out and pulled his cock away. annie never even saw it. she fell to the floor. he left her office immediately.
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1moreoffkeyanthem · 2 days
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Begging for you to talk about OJV Stans and Marj’s friendship. Mari coming out to Stan first and whenever she is having a meltdown him always zooming to find Kenny or Kyle is so wholesome. I always head cannon that Stan would view Marj like a little sister so your interpretation of their friendship makes me so happy. I would love to hear more facts/head cannns about them :3
Oh my god first of all HELL YES OJV Marj and Stan, their friendship slays so hard and I love that you’re asking abt it!
One of the things about OJV Stan is that he IS the Dad Friend. By which I mean he’s extremely protective but also unequipped for actual crises, and is prone to inadvertently indulging in shenanigans. The way this extends to Marj? Lemme get goin.
So when she came out to him, bro was CONFUSED like “uhhhh why am I the first person you’re talking about this with? Why not, I dunno, Kenny or something” like Stan fully isnt the person to go to for advice but he IS the person to confide in (plus he gives really good hugs if u need them) and he actually cried when her answer was “I just felt like I could trust you is all” this sweet boy, if he doesn’t know what to do in a situation he’s GONNA find someone who will, so he went “what about talking to Kyle? He might know more about this than me?” And she read him for absolute filth lmao all “well speakin of, that’s why I came to you. You have your own little secret that you’ve been scared to bring up, dontcha��� AGDGJKLH
Nah but seriously, their friendship is so wholesome, she frequently scolds Stan for indulging Kenny’s recklessness, he’s out here like “dude Marj that’s a pyramid scheme don’t fuck with that shit” (she winds up running it lmfao) and may not always be the most observant person, but he knows his friends and ALWAYS recognizes the signs of Marj starting to shut down, and she knows that. She says the word and Stan is finding her someone with the emotional tools to help. I also like to think that Stan COULD be one of those people. OrangeJuiceVerse Stan Marsh is actually very emotionally intelligent, but he isn’t confident enough in that to think he has any room to help others. It’s the same reason that later down the line he wrestles with taking on a sponsee.
A more fun note: in that first year of college, the trio of Marj Stan and Cartman are THE musical theatre gang. I’m talking they are DESTROYING karaoke. I don’t know why I have this headcanon but I do and I love it. Another is that when Stan gets in trouble with her he gets so guilty for disappointing her lmfao like out here looking like a sad puppy all “I’m sorry Marj Ken and I thought hanging off the roof was the best way to get the top piece of his sculpture attached” smh “don’t tell Kyle” “don’t tell me what?” Lmao
And Stan is SUPER protective of anyone in his group, plus he’s kind of a social justice warrior lol he isn’t confrontational as Kyle and Cartman are but he’s GONNA go “hey dude that’s not cool” call someone out for being a dick and he’s intimidating when he gets mad! Like OJV Stan is a BIG BOY he’s a gentle giant for sure but fuck with someone he loves and suddenly the golden retriever boy is SCARY. karaoke trio nights someone says something transphobic and he is there all “the fuck did you just say to her?” Now Marj and Stan are both the ‘muscle’ of their group. Both are tall and strong and could definitely fuck someone up. They don’t, but they could. Both are pretty gentle in nature which is super sweet, but they could do some damage if they had to. They’re a slay duo tbh
That’s what I got rn dude, thank u for the ask I love the OJV homies!!!
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monty-glasses-roxy · 3 months
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Thinking about Roxy and my Plex Mangle meeting in a way that somewhat mirrors how Mangle met the original Roxy and Mangle just having to deal with that I guess
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ilonacho · 1 year
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highlights from today nwn
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freakurodani · 1 year
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thinking about hinata trying SO HARD to be a polite young man augsjshs like he throws around a "damn" and a "bastard" like everyone else, but those are like, barely cuss words
also thinking about in the dub when hes talking to ukai and he says "dude-- im mean sir!" hes just so funny
truly, the only one stopping shoyo from saying fuck is shoyo
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pipskippy · 1 year
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beast infodump i like them a lot
#BEAST tag#the story so far basically flax & nina are a part of this experiment to create bioweapons & its something about the weapon (in this case#bear) has to have high compatibility to the subject (in this case NINA which is the name of the project specific to her and stands for#nuclear interface neurologic audioweapon or something you get it. anyways before all that nina & flax undergo surgery to test & connect them#to a creature or whatever and nina wakes up ~1 year before flax successfully binded to bear#flax (protagonist) eventually wakes up to find the lab abandoned and all the scientists/doctors are gone and his surgery is unfinished#nina doesn’t remember what happened & since she and bear are kind of unstable (dangerous new weapon etc) flax suspects maybe bear did some#thing (he doesn’t trust bear and is freaked out by her. welll understandably) but ninas like noo she is my bestie and they can talk#telepathically which is how nina controls bear but anyways flax had an interest in mechanical and electrical engineering etc so he tries to#keep bear in working order but well it’s so complicated for an 11 year old and theres no one to show him how so he just has to scrounge toge#ther based on whats left behind. anyways it’s like a mystery thriller & they are trying to find out what happened and flax is trying to keep#nina safe and ninas like ^_^)/ with her deadly beast. who is also like ʕ•=ᴥ=•ʔ/ but cant rly express it well#also bear/nina’s weapon is attacking using sound waves like. sends a fucking distortion beam at you. nina is deaf so shes unaffected#ill have to figure something out for flax maybe he will find some noise canceling headphones or something. but yeah communication btwn the#three is fun because the siblings communicate via sign and nina to bear communication is through a wireless link and then bear to flax#communication is like mostly not existent at least at first and flax csnt be sure how accurate nina’s relaying is bc he’s also like halfway#skeptical that this bear can even talk since nina is 8 and all. flax to bear communication flax just yells at it. lol.#pip speaks#my ocs#btw if it was a thing like a game or an short or comic or something id call it BEAST all caps but im calling it beast because#well theres no need to yell </3#btw its set in nevada zero escape reference ✌️
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viiridiangreen · 2 years
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Pintor, nacido en mi tierra Painter, born in my country Con el pincel extranjero With the foreign paintbrush Pintor, que sigues el rumbo Painter, following the path De tantos pintores viejos Of so many old painters
Aunque la virgen sea blanca Even if the virgin is white Píntame angelitos negros Paint little black angels for me Que también se van al cielo Because all of us who are good Todos los que somos buenos Can reach heaven too
Pintor, si pintas con amor Painter, if you paint with love Por qué desprecias su color Why do you despise their colour Si sabes que en el cielo If you know that in heaven También los quiere Dios God loves them too
Pintor de santos de alcoba Painter of bedroom saints Si tienes alma en el cuerpo If there's a soul in your body Por qué al pintar en tus cuadros Why have you in painting your paintings Te olvidaste de los negros Forgotten black people
Siempre que pintas iglesias Every time you paint churches Pintas angelitos bellos You paint beautiful angels Pero nunca te acordaste But you never remembered De pintar un ángel negro To paint a black angel Siempre que pintas iglesias Every time you paint churches Pintas angelitos bellos You paint beautiful angels Pero nunca te acordaste But you never remembered De pintar un ángel negro To paint a black angel
#THERE'S AN EARTHA KITT VERSION TOO#she was fluent in 4 languages apparently#also i bet this song is like. common knowledge here the most widely known version is by fucking Pedro Infante#but altho my family is mexican they're also very white and racist and hate fun so music was. limited. back then#but like GOD. i've spent the past few days (very unwisely) verbally wrestling with idiots on facebook over 'forced inclusion'#bc of rings of power & the little mermaid & such#but like PEOPLE HAVE KNOWN EXCLUSION & WHITE SUPREMACISTS ARE REAL AND FUCKED UP FOR FOREVER#the poem they adapted the lyrics from is by a venezuelan poet who wrote it before 1940#im just. head in hands. why are they so fucking obtuse#so many of the people arguing that 'black little mermaid = evil' are racialised themselves too :////////////////#like WOW internalised hatred is a hell of a thing#like The Mouse™ isn't radical at all the execs are just signing off on inclusive projects now bc other people did the hard work of-#making that acceptable and profitable first#but like. that doesn't make it HORRIBLE and an OFFENSE to the FANS and DISRESPECTFUL to the ORIGINAL to cast a black actress as a princess#who was white in the previous adaptation#which was itself the furthest thing from faithful to Andersen's original Little Mermaid#which is itself based on Undine from a few years prior#which is also based on previous stuff all the way back to grecorroman water nymphs and THOSE were also surely inspired by earlier shit#like. stories change. that's what they've always done#your childhood isn't ruined by diverse adaptations#you're just an aging racist & terrified of newer generations being better at *checks notes*-#not losing their shit over how other humans are slightly different from them#OR you're young & aping older racists for approval which is sadder#they're the worstttttt#viitalks#ñposting#lindo y jodido#oh also there are Religious Trauma Feelings Here. just. as a note lmao
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iamjessemccartney · 2 years
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🙃
#im gonna lose my mind and unfortunately not in a fun way#teacher im interning with texted me earlier telling me not to go in to school today bc she has covid#because ive been with her all week and she hasnt been wearing a mask at all i've been hella exposed#i had to drive to target to get tests because i took the One we'd had left in the pantry. and THEN found out it was expired#soon as i get in my car. turn it on. light that tells me i need air in my tires is on and i mean Immediately#i LITERALLY put air in my tires just under a month ago. i remember this because it was the first day of metro con.#and i did it on the way to the con. dressed as a fucking anime girl.#i decide i dont give enough of a shit about my tires because of that and bc i need to go fucking covid test myself so i drive to target#i park. as i pull into a space i FEEL my car do some fucking stupid shit. i go into the store. i come out.#i get to the first stop sign on my way out of the parking lot and i can tell my car is Sinking down on the front left tire#quarter of the way home my tire is completely flat#i get less than 2 minutes from the house. my car sounds like it's going to explode because im practically driving on my fuckin rims#and i have to call my mom to tail me the rest of the way in case my fucking car blows up or some shit#there was a HUGE fucking tear in my tire.#i take one of my new covid tests. comes back negative. go to sams club (masked) with my parents to get a new tire#i fucking get home and i get reminded of the fact that covid may not be detectable within the first few days :)#which means the plans i'd made for saturday had to be cancelled :) and while they have since been resolved i am Still#Upset#because today has just been BULLSHIT#by FAR i have had worse. but im having this day Right Now. and right now. i am upset.
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yo9urt · 5 hours
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Baldur
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agztsuma · 8 months
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BG3 CONTINUES!!!
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gutsby · 1 month
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Abstaining Game
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.
Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.
Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’
Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)
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October 26, 2024
Dear Joel,
Roses are red,
We’re a couple of sluts,
Abstinence camp is awful,
I miss you rearranging my guts.
You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.
“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”
You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.
Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.
It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.
What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.
Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.
He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.
That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.
Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.
Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:
Dear Tommy,
Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Sincerely,
Joel
You grinned again just thinking about it.
If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.
For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?
Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.
The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.
You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.
Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:
“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”
The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.
Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.
Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.
“On your feet, skank.”
You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.
Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.
“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.
“How kind.”
“Yeah? Certain death?”
“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.
Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.
“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.
“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”
“Oh?”
Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.
“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.
Stupidly.
“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”
That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.
“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.
“Not my brother,” you hissed.
“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.
“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”
Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.
“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.
“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.
“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.
Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.
Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.
“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
“I am not.”
“Then explain, Cersei!”
Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.
“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.
“Uh-huh.”
“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”
“Dangerous combo.”
“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”
“Right.”
“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”
Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:
“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”
“Oh shit.”
“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”
“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”
“As you should.”
“—hold that breath in right there—”
“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”
This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.
“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.
“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”
You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.
“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”
Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:
“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”
You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,
“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”
You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,
“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”
You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.
Then you felt hands.
Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.
You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.
“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.
Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?
About damn time.
Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.
“Fucker,” you hissed.
Fucker said nothing.
Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.
“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”
You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.
In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.
“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”
A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.
“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.
Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.
“Pack your shit.”
Dude.
You spun on your heels.
“DUDE!”
Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.
It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.
“Sweetheart—”
He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.
The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?
You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.
His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.
“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”
You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.
“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”
Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.
“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”
He was seriously trying to break you out?
You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.
“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.
Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.
“Joel?” You raised a brow.
“Mm?”
The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.
His gaze was alarmingly sedate.
“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”
“Just a quickie, Miller—”
“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”
The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.
Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.
It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.
“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”
Shit.
Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.
“Joel—”
“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”
Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.
But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.
“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.
“Joel, I just—”
“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”
The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.
“It was a joke.”
No time to mince words now.
“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.
He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.
“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”
“No!”
“No?”
“No.”
For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.
Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.
“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”
When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”
With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.
“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”
You needed time to think.
“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.
But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.
“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”
His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.
Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?
You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.
“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”
You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.
“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.
“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.
You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.
At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.
His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.
Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.
“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.
This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.
Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.
But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.
You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.
You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.
Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.
Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.
Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”
Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.
The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.
Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.
Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.
Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.
“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.
You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.
Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.
“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.
Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.
Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.
“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”
When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.
“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”
Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.
“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.
But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.
You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.
“Another,” you pleaded.
“Nuh-uh.”
“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.
Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.
“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’
Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.
His expression was hard.
“Fuck my hand,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.
Fuck my hand.
Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.
“Like that,” he murmured.
All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.
It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.
“Need more,” you keened.
“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.
“Yeah.”
A beat, then:
“Tough shit.”
But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.
“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.
“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.
Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”
That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.
And pleasure.
The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.
Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.
“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.
Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,
“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”
Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.
Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.
He nodded again.
Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.
After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.
“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.
“Too much?” he returned.
You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.
“Too soon?” he tried again.
“I—”
“Too fast?”
“N—”
“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.
There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.
You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.
“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.
“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”
Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.
“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.
Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.
“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”
Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.
“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.
“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.
When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.
“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.
Joel watched you with careful eyes.
“Yeah? And Tess?”
“Joel—”
“Or Tommy.”
“I don’t—”
“Everyone else?”
Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.
Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.
In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?
You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.
Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.
“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.
“But you did,” you panted.
Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.
Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.
He was a lot like you in that way.
You kept kissing him anyway.
The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.
All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.
“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.
You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.
In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.
“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.
“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”
Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’
You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.
Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.
Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.
“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”
Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’
Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.
He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.
Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.
“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His face softened.
“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”
He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.
“Say that you’re mine.”
No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.
Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?
The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.
The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.
It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.
Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.
His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.
He kissed your hairline and hummed.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”
His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.
“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.
He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,
“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”
“But—”
“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”
His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.
“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.
You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.
“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.
You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.
Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.
Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:
“Joel!”
“That’s right.”
Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.
“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.
You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’
Oh.
Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.
Your legs were wet.
The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.
You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.
You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.
Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?
“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.
You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.
In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.
Where was that wetness coming from?
You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—
“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.
Your first instinct was to make a face.
That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?
“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.
Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.
“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”
Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.
Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.
“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”
You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.
And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.
Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.
“‘M’sorry,” he said.
Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,
“You did great.”
He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“So good.”
When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.
“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”
“What?”
Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.
“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”
At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.
He didn’t.
The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.
“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”
You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.
“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”
Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.
“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”
Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.
Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.
You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.
But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.
“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.
“No!”
“I’m not—”
“He’s from the other camp.”
“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”
You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.
“I’m—we’re—” he started.
“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”
She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.
But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.
Then laugh.
Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.
Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.
“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.
Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.
“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:
“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”
Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.
And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.
“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
Text
The Video (LN4)
Summary: Y/n and Lando’s club dancing sends the F1 world into a frenzy.
Warnings: sexual innuendos, sexual conversations, its short im sorry, if you want something more to this storyline lmk in the requests ill prob do it lol
Note: IVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD LONG BEFORE I EVEN STARTED WRITING
TWITTER
ln4andop81 how yall feeling after that leaked vid?
- mclarensgirly FIGHTING. FOR. MY. LIFE.
- f1fan2 if i speak.
- ln4andop81 what shall we address first.
- mclarensgirly maybe the GRINDING????
- f1fan2 PLZ I SCREAMED THE WAY HIS HANDS GUIDED HER HIPS 😫😫😫😫
- ln4andop81 THE WHISPERING IN THE EAR???
- mclarensgirly BRUH I JUST KNOW LANDO SAID SOMETHING SO GODDAMN QUESTIONABLE BY THE LOOK OF Y/N’S FACE
- f1fan2 bro literally moved his hands up to the bottom of her boobs and down and then whispered some crazed shit in her ear and i died. THE PERSON WHO FILMED THAT VIDEO I LOVE YOU 😋😋
- ln4andop81 yeah i think its safe to say that lando norizz is definitely a myth.
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y/nnn so about last night.
Comments:
mclarensgirly ABOUT LAST NIGHT MY ASS
ln4andop81 girly had a whole video of her grinding on her bf leaked and her response is “about last night”. icon.
landonorris i had fun 😙
- mclarensgirly BYE
- ln4andop81 MANS IS INSANE
- f1fan2 so moral of the story lando basically fucked his gf in public and said “i had fun” NO SHIT
- mclaren dont think you understand the pr situation at hand 😀
- mclarensgirly NOW IM DONE FOR
- ln4andop81 MCLAREN ADMIN IS FIGHTING ON THE FRONT LINES RN
maxverstappen this is why i said to not drink too much
- y/nnn YOU PUT THE DRINKS IN. MY. HAND.
- landonorris i think your exact words were “next round on me?”
- kellypiquet i am afraid babe that you did in fact do and say both of those things
TWITTER
Mclarenfan22 its the way lando pushes y/ns hips into him so she can be as CLOSE as possible
- circledriving-racers plz when i first saw that vid i rlly didnt think by the end of it i would know what lando looked like when he was clearly feeling some type of way
- ln4andop81 yeah bc the way he threw his head back when she started circling her hips against his spoke VOLUMES
- papayafan it had ME feelin some typa way and i wasnt even the one getting danced on
- ln4andop81 i feel like its prob for the best the vid ended before we could see them separate bc i feel like we wouldve seen LANDO and not lando if yk what i mean 😟
- papayafan a bone-
- mclarenfan22 we would rlly know EVERYTHING abt him at that point
- ln4andop81 im willing to bet a large sum of money (im broke) that hes big
- y/nnn is this where im supposed to “enter the chat”?
- ln4andop81 MAAM.
- mclarensgirly YES. SPILL THE TEA.
- f1fan2 YEAH DO THE PUBLIC A SERVICE AND TELL US ‼️‼️‼️
- y/nnn i think i would like to gatekeep this one girlies 💋💋
-mclarensgirly wow.
- ln4andop81 ill never get over how it girl she is.
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landonorris it was a great night and thats all i have to say abt it
Comments:
oscarpiastri UHHHHHHH
mclaren we cant catch a break ever
y/nnn BABE THE SIGN 😭😭
- landonorris i thought it really translated my thoughts 🙏🏻
- mclarensgirly BRO DOESNT GIVE A FUCK GAHDAMN
ln4andop81 so i guess the question rlly is: did the sign become reality?
- landonorris what do you think 🤭
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