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beansprean · 3 months

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oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...

(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."

2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.

3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."

4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"

5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.

6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #lupete #petelucius #mlm #stede bonnet #ed teach #lucius spriggs #black pete #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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general-cheezits · 1 year

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Brick Exterior (Jackson)

#Mid-sized farmhouse white two-story brick gable roof photo concrete frontyard path #beige stone planter #white painted brick hardscape #front yard brick path #beige stacked stone #red brick patio steps #grass in landscaping

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.

it’s beautiful.

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!”

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it.

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.”

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

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thevoidstaredback · 14 days

Text

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

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stevebabey · 1 year

Text

The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.

A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.

The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.

His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.

He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.

Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.

He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.

Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.

And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.

Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.

“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”

Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.

“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.

He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”

Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.

“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.

Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.

“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”

Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”

He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.

#me and steve are like that spider-man meme #pointing at each other #BIRFDAY TWINS!!!#so ofc… havé some steddie loveliness <3 #MWAH #it’s not even technically the 29th for like half of u guys #DONT CARE!!!#have it #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #this is indeed just a wee ficlet #steddie fic #morning cuddles 🥹🥹 when is it MY TURN #as ALWAYS!!!#gay ppl in my phone…. this one is for u

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 24 days

Text

Professor, I didn’t cheat. (PT.2)

Summary: Professor Kennedy takes for you a date after your intimate moment in his office.

Warning: not proofread. smut. oral smut (m receiving) unprotected sex. creampie.

A/N: being an English major is so fun, my only hw is literally just read books and give me opinion on them. and to think I wanted to major in physics 😮

(pt.1) (pt.2)

After that moment you two had in his office, things became different. Stolen glances when you’d walk down the hall, the way he’d stare at you as if you’re the only one in the room. The tension was thick but he knew he shouldn’t indulge into his desires with one of his pupils.

It was ironic because he right now he was making out with you in his office. You sat on his lap as his hands rested on your waist. He gently squeezed the curvature of your waist as you moaned into the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, asking permission to enter your mouth. He sucked on your bottom lip as your tongue danced around with his.

Both of you broke apart, with his gently pulling you away from his face. The two of you remained panting but didn’t move. His hands rested on your body as he looked at you. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman on the planet.

“Let me take you on a date,” he blurted out as his thumbs caressed your skin. You were shocked and stunned for a few seconds before a smile appeared on your face. You nibbled on your bottom lip as you nodded, feeling like a high school girl all over again.

And so here you were. In front of your mirror wearing an elegant and classy red dress. It reached up to your knees. It wasn’t too flashy but it wasn’t too fancy. It was just right. From the waist up, the corset remained tight and hugged your upper body with grace. The skirt hang loosely around your legs, the satin fabric making gentle contact with your freshly shaven skin.

Leon had made reservations to a fancy restaurant. He wanted the best for you so what better way to express that than by taking you the most beautiful place in town.

Leon was a classic man. He texted you around 7:30 that he’d pick you up by 8PM and bring you back home unscathed. In his eyes, you were a goddess. You were the sun shining down on him, you were the moon illuminating his dark path. Your beauty outshined that of the stars covering the night sky. To him, you were his muse. And he wasn’t afraid to show it.

So when you got out of your apartment and stood in front of Leon, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His jaw went slack as his eyes scanned you up and down, slowly memorizing this image of you. He didn’t want to forget the way his muse looked right now.

“You look…beautiful,” his voice was laced with adoration. He stepped up to you and extended his hand to you. Wanting to walk you to his car because why should you walk alone?

The ride to the restaurant wasn’t awkward. There was a comfortable silence that enveloped the two of you. He had to stop himself from staring too much as he was the one driving and he didn’t want to put you in danger.

The restaurant was beyond beautiful. Its structure was one of ancient Italian architecture.

He opened the door for you and walked behind you as you marveled the inside of the establishment. There were paintings on the roof and the windows were decorated with carved sculptures. The music playing was soft classical- not too loud but not too quiet. It was just right. The entire atmosphere screamed rich and classy. Just like him.

A waiter walked you two to a table right next to a window. He figured you’d like to see the view of the outside and he was right. As you stared out the window, he stared at you. You really captured this man’s heart and he was falling for you more and more.

First dates are awkward but not with him. Leon was a smooth talker, he was natural at this. So when he ordered for the both of you and you tried to protest, he gave you a stern look, “Don’t worry, I got this.” He said in his confident tone. He wanted to take care of you and he’d do it whether you like it or not.

After getting some appetizers, he began to talk to you. He wanted to get to know you. As he took a sip of his champagne, he looked over at you as you sat across from him, “So, tell me. What are you studying that requires you to take my course?”

“Well…I’m majoring in history,” you replied with a soft smile. Which was then mirrored on Leon’s face, “A history major in our midst. Why history of all things?”

“I just really like to learn about the past. Not just about the wars and everything in between. Rather the history of how society came to be. I just think human history is interesting,” You replied shyly.

Leon chuckled and took another sip of his drink before talking, “That’s good. You should study something that you like.”

As the food arrived, you couldn’t help but be fascinated with his life. He’s got a PhD in Philosophy as well as a Masters degree in Sociology with a Minor in Political Science. He’s old but you didn’t think he’d have time to do all of that.

The date was going well. Leon said a couple of jokes and you laughed at them. Your laugh was like music to his ears and he only wanted to hear more. You guys talked about everything. It was as if there really was no boundary between you two. You talked about everything and anything- your hobbies, your likes and dislikes. That one time your professor from another class caught you hiding behind a student so you wouldn’t have to participate.

“No, it was so embarrassing!” You said as you covered your face with your hands, resulting in Leon cackling.

“I don’t even think that’s ever happened to me with my students, you really do have unique experiences,” he teased as he sipped his champagne.

“To this day, I still get major embarrassment,” you fanned your face as you felt it grow hot from embarrassment to which he only laughed again.

He had a great time and so did you. So when the time marked 11PM, he felt a small twinge of sadness. He didn’t want the date to be over, he wanted to keep talking to you. That was until he felt your heel ride up along his leg.

He raised his brow and looked at you, “What are you doing?” He asked with a small smirk. He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Nothing…” You replied as you gave him your most innocent smile. He chuckled and leaned closer to the table to take your hand. His thumb caressing on your skin, drawing small circles.

“It’s getting late, I should take you home,” he spoke softly.

“Oh yeah, it’s getting late,” you let out a small sigh as the two of you got up from your table. Leon paid, of course, and walked out of the restaurant with his hand on your lower back. His touch was firm but soft.

As he led you to his car, he let you borrow his suit jacket so you wouldn’t be cold. Man, this guy was raising the standard. Once inside the car, he started the engine and began to drive to your apartment.

He brought his hand over to your thigh and gently squeezed. It was supposed to be something between the lines of “thank you for coming on a date with me” and “just you wait until we get back to your place.” The thrill was so enticing, it only made your panties grow a small wet spot from how turned on you were from his touch.

He parked right in front of your apartment and walked you to the front door. As you took out your keys and tried to find the one that opened the door, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder to your ass. God that dress did you justice. He wanted to touch it and grip that ass so hard until you rubbed against his hard erection with dirty noises spilling out of your mouth and-

“Want to come inside?” His thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice. He cleared his throat and looked you in the eyes as he nodded, “Sure, yeah.”

Once he stepped inside and you closed the door, he pinned you against the wall and started to kiss you. His hands gripped your hips as he pressed his body against yours. You could feel his erection through his pants as he pressed up against you. His lips melting with yours as if they were made for each other. Your lipstick staining his lips a soft red as he pulled back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours. “The things I want to do to you,” he growled as he kissed you passionately again. His left hand gripping your hip as his right hand traveled down to grab your ass, squeezing between his fingers. That only caused him to moan as he felt how much you loved how he groped your body.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer to deepen the kiss. His tongue meshing with yours as you could taste the champagne off his mouth. He tasted so delicious and you were hungry for him.

He pulled back to catch his breath and you gently took his hands to guide him to your room. This time, you were in charge.

You pushed him down the edge of the bed so he could sit down. You sat on his hips as you began to kiss him again. Your lips trailing from his mouth to his neck. Leaving lipstick prints along his skin.

You slowly got off him and kneeled in between his legs. His breath hitches as he knew what you were about to do. Your hands unbuckled his belt and pulled down on his zipper, bringing forth his large erection. God he looked even better than last time.

Precum had been leaking down the side already. You wrapped your fingers gently along his base as you dropped a small drop of saliva down on his tip and spread it down with your finger. Leon leaned back against the bed as he moaned at your touch. He was loving every second of this and he was loving how much you were in control.

As you took his cock in your mouth, he closed his eyes tightly shut and immediately grabbed the top of your hair, tugging your scalp. You swirled your tongue around his head as you rubbed the remaining part of his base that couldn’t fit in your mouth. Bobbing your head as moans and grunts spilled out of him. He bucked his hips against your face, wanting to fuck your throat deeper. When he felt you gag slightly against his cock, he let out a loud growl and spoke lowly, “Fuck y/n… I’m going to cum.”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled your mouth away from his cock. He let out a faint gruff as you stopped him from his orgasm. But what he wasn’t ready for was that you had already taken off your wet panties and began to rub his cock with them.

He’s never seen anyone do this to him. To have someone rub their underwear on his cock only turned him on even more. He could feel that wet spot on the middle part of your panties and only made his cock throb even more. He couldn’t believe he was about to cum from just your panties.

So when his sticky cum shit out of his cock and to your panties, he groaned in pleasure as he saw you lick the cum off your own panties. He felt his cock want more. You’ve completely broken the man.

You pushed his back down on your bed and got on top of him. Your dress rode up to your waist, exposing your cunt to him. His hands immediately traveled to your hips as you aligned your entrance with his cock.

You slowly pushed yourself down on his cock, down to his balls. He stretched you out and he shuddered as he felt your tight pussy pulsate against his needy cock. His mind was clouded with lust and all he wanted right now was for you to fuck him dumb.

You slowly began to move your hips in a forward and backward motion, starting off easy at first so both of you could get used to it. Leon rolled his head back and closed his eyes tightly shut as he felt you ride him.

You slowly began to lift yourself up and then bring yourself down. He also began to buckle his hips to thrust into you, your velvety walls felt so good against his cock and he only wanted more. So, with his strong grip, he began to move you. He picked you up and then brought you back down with force. This time, you were the one being fucked dumb.

Your hands traveled to his shoulders as he fucked into you from under you. Your nails clawing at his dress shirt as you moaned messily. Your whimpers only caused him to go harder and faster. His grip on your hips would sure leave a mark but you didn’t care. He let go with one hand and pulled down the straps of your dress to expose your bouncing breasts. You weren’t wearing any bra or pasties, what a dirty little slut. He smirked as he watched your tits bounce as he moved you up and down on his cock with brute force. His head bruising your cervix and hitting your g-spot all at once. It felt amazing. You rolled your eyes back as you arched your back.

He knew you were close when your moans and whimpers began to cut short by your breaths. You were a mess. Your makeup ran down your face as your hair was disheveled. Sweat running down your body as his own sweaty forehead caused his hair to glue down to his skin. He grunted as he felt your pussy clench and throb against his cock. He had to pause for a moment as he felt you come down on him. Your juices spilling down to his balls to your bedsheets.

Once he gathered his breath, he continued to fuck you. This time, he rolled you over to your back and pressed you in a mating press- pressing your thighs to your chest as he held your legs apart and down to your body. He stuffed his cock in and out harshly as he chased his own release. You rolled your head back and closed your eyes as you felt his fuck you even harder. The headboard of your head clashing against the wall as he used his muscles to fuck you harder and harder.

He felt his own cock throb inside you and without notice, he had came inside of you. His sticky essence covering your pink walls, claiming your pussy as his. He pushed himself in as he spurted every last drop into your womb and cervix. He needed to make you understand that no one would fuck you like he would.

He remained inside you for a moment as he stared down at your messy appearance- to which he found hot and felt like he could go for a second round. If only he was younger, because he would’ve fucked you until the morning.

He slowly pulled out of you and watched as his cum ooze slowly out of your clenching pussy to your ass. Cum staining your bedsheets as evidence of what the two of you had done. He dropped down beside you as he stared up at ceiling. He then turned to look at you.

He couldn’t help but admire your beauty. If you’d told him that he would be down bad for one of his students, he would’ve told you that you were crazy. And yet, here he was. Laying next to the girl he’d give everything to.

With a goofy grin, he spoke in a soft and playful tone, “Again?” You chuckled and opened your eyes to look at him,

“Again.”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #di leon #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #smut

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

Chapter 21 - Collision of Worlds

feels like forever since I've updated and I am so sorry for that. I had so many projects but thankfully I passed them all! So little celebration chapter!

I added a bunch of past ideas from you readers as you wanted to see a few more things before the work wraps up (like media day and one of the incorrect quotes from that chapter).

Happy news is that Chapter 22 is already done and written as well so that will be out soon as well!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, messages to my inbox, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

Please enjoy!

Wednesday Afternoon:

You were hunched over laughing as you saw Max walk into the Paddock on Wednesday afternoon. The blond wig was definitely not on correctly, but no one seemed to care as cameras flashed on his figure. A shy grin was displayed on his face as he walked closer.

“Happy media day?” he questioned as he met up with you.

You took one more look and started to wheeze, which in return made him laugh as well – almost making the wig fall off.

“Trying to look like the better Red Bull driver?” you asked, pulling at the blond strands. Max quickly took it off.

He let out a dry laugh, before speaking in a sarcastic tone. “Sure. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“What are we even doing today?” you managed to ask through your giggles.

Max looked around with a questioning look. “Christian told me that we’re have a driving competition.”

Speaking of, Christian suddenly appeared with a team of videographers and other employees. Two of them behind him were pulling contraptions that made you start to laugh even harder.

Somehow, they had gotten their hands on two children’s cars and had painted them in the RB colors. You walked over, slapped the plastic, and started to laugh harder once again. Max could only giggle watching you lose it over something so simple. But, then he guesses that you might not have had a smaller toy car as a kid.

Max stood next to his. He was lucky that his car was opened roofed or he would have never fit inside.

The media worker spoke up once the two of you stood next to the respective cars.

“The game is simple. Just a lap around to that tree.”

He pointed at a tree in the distance. Thankfully the entire way there was paved. Well, you were racing in the paddock.

“The bottom of the cars are cut out so you’ll have to use your feet to get going.”

You gave Max a smirk before sticking one foot in and then the other. It was a tight squeeze, but you weren’t one of the shortest drivers for nothing. You were thankful the floor was cut out or your head would be in between your knees. You looked over at Max and lost it once again.

You couldn’t even see his body, just his head sticking out the open top. You leaned your head against the mini wheel.

Max lifted his hand and called out, “Can I have a head start since she can’t stop laughing?”

You looked over at him. “Be quiet. Not my fault you look like a giraffe.”

Christian was the one to tell you two to go, and it was on. Since you were smaller, your feet had more room to move back and forth. But, you sadly wore sandals for media day, and they didn’t have much traction.

Whereas Max had little room to move his feet, but his tennis shoes were much more grabby on the concrete.

You were able to take the inside of the tree while Max had to go far around the outside. Coming out of the turn, you went a bit wide to cut him off and bumped his car. Max bumped you back and you retaliated with a bigger bump as the finish line was approaching. Well, you never looked back and missed that his car tilted over, with him still in it.

Once you crossed the finish line, you got out and finally turned to see him still knocked over. You crouched as you began to wheeze once again. Christian had to go over to him and set the Dutchman upright.

The video people swarmed around Max once he got out.

One of the men smirked as he pointed a microphone at Max.

“Max, what happened with the race?”

Max looked over at you still hunched over and smirked.

“Ah it’s so unfair. I’m leading, she pushed me, I push her back, and after she pushed me off the track. It’s unfair?”

Everyone around him was giggling into their hands at his statement. Even before you had bumped him, Charles had somehow gotten close to watch it. He was also hunched over with hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.

You had stood upright and were wiping off tears from your eyes. The man who “interviewed” Max had come over to you as you stepped closer.

“Y/n what happened with Max?”

You quickly pulled your hair over your eyes a bit before speaking.

“Nothing. It was just an inchident…on the race.”

That did it and everyone started to laugh out loud.

Now it was time for Charles to walk over to the duo. He had somehow gotten a hold of the blond wig as well, and it was sitting on his head.

You looked over and tried to compose yourself. “Why is everyone trying to be me today?”

Charles had a sassy look on his face. “Well, if you can be me – I can be you.”

Your eyebrows raised before you yanked the wig off.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing just an inchident...

tagged: maxverstappen1, y/n.89, and charles_leclerc

liked by redbullusa, landonorris, box_box_express, and 205,204 others

y/n.nation the entire video had me rolling

lestappenlove not y/n pulling out "the inchident" - had me in stitches

y/n.89 I wanna know why everyone was trying to be me today, obviously I'm the best blond here

maxverstappen1 do you not see the pictures? I'm pretty sure I look best charles_leclerc back away peasants, we all know who looks best here landonorris I hope you're not meaning you and your ramen noodle hair

formula1fan where did Red Bull even get the cars (are they available for purchase?)

redbullcan no fr I want one

best_rookie89 Silverstone always brings out the best in everyone

Thankfully after that you were done with any games. Yet, to yours and Max’s chagrin, you had lots of interviews to go to.

Max gave you a thankful look when you took the podcast while he took the live interview. You knew that he really did have a distain for podcasts. You made him promise though that he’d bring you a can of Red Bull after you were done. It was easy enough.

You were led to a small room with the host already sat down. He stood when you entered and shook your hand.

“I’m so glad that we’re able to do this today. My name is Sam and I’ll be asking you a few questions today,” his British accent rang out. It was a nice comfort as it was the Silverstone Grand Prix this weekend.

You sat down and put the headphones on.

Sam pulled out a few note cards and then did the intro.

“Hey everyone, it’s Sam back with the ‘Stay In The Box-Box Podcast’ and I am graciously joined by who everyone is dubbing the greatest rookie to every enter Formula 1, Y/n L/n.”

He gave you a cue to speak into the mic.

“Hello everyone! I’m glad to be here today!”

The questions were simple enough. How has Red Bull been treating you? What are your aspirations for the team? What is it like having Max Verstappen as a teammate? And so on.

A question though, caught you by surprise.

“I know that you, along with anyone who watches F1, have been waiting for your first win. What track would you love to win at and why?’

You thought for a moment before you gave an answer.

“Well, to be honest, I’d be happy with anything. But, if I had to pick anything, I’d go with Monza or Las Vegas.”

Sam leaned into his mic. “Wow, the home of the Tifosi. You really have your ambitions.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t everyone? Winning at Monza, especially winning in my godfather’s country, would be a privilege. I know that Ferrari fans would love to see Charles or Carlos win there, but that track seems to be an open door for a lot of racers. Take Pierre for example. Monza was his first race win. Daniel won there in his first year at McLaren and gave Zac Brown his first win as a Team Principle.”

You took a sip of the water that they had given you.

“And then you go back to Charles who won his second ever race there, earning him the nickname of Il Predestinato. It seems to be a track that likes the underdogs. It’s fast and relatively shorter. They don’t call it the Temple of Speed for nothing. It’s a track that you have to earn respect for.”

Sam looked genuinely happy with your answer, and moved on to the second track you mentioned.

“Ah Vegas. I don’t know. There I drove the RB19 for the first time and was introduced as part of the Red Bull family there. It would be like a homecoming for me if I was able to win there. And it’s Vegas, who wouldn’t want to win. I know that Danny would be sad to lose.”

Sam nodded, taking your answers in. There were a few more questions before he announced a game – guess that tune.

The first tune came and you immediately pressed the button.

You leaned into the mic. “August by Taylor Swift.”

A ding sounded, letting you know you got it right.

The next was also almost immediate.

“Monaco by Bad Bunny.”

A few of the songs you didn’t know, but most of them were immediate.

You shrugged when Sam asked how you knew so many. The answer was simple.

“I listen to a lot of genres and I’m chronically on TikTok. Other than like hard rock or heavy metal, I’ll listen to it.”

A few more sounded.

“As it Was by Harry Styles.”

“In the Kitchen by Rene Rap.”

“Feather by Sabrina Carpenter.”

“Beautiful Things by Benson Boone.”

The last song, you knew it but didn’t know the artist.

Your eyebrow raised. “I know it’s the credit song from Cars 2. Uhhhhh, Collision of Worlds?”

Sam smirked at your hesitation. “Do you know who it is by?”

You shook your head.

“It’s by Brad Paisley and Robbie Williams.”

You threw your hands up before pointing at Sam. “I’ve been trying to tell Logan that it is legit the song that perfectly sums up his and Oscar’s friendship.”

Sam leaned back for one more question.

“Who do you think will win this weekend?”

Your head tilted.

“Lando Norris. The McLaren’s have been super-fast the past couple of races. I have a feeling about this one. Place your bets now, Lando is going to get pole.”

“Thank you so much for your time today.” Sam stood up to shake your hand. He also gave you some sheet of papers. You thought they were just pre-scripted questions for captions.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing ah, nothing like finishing media day with a can from our stocked fridge

liked by stayinthe_boxboxpod, redbullcan, y/n.nation, and 248,029 others

y/n_updates the middle is a live picture from inside y/n's house. girl was drinking it like water before she even signed

verSTOPpen max looked so uncomfortable, glad he didn't get signed to the podcast lol

maxmaxmax_super he always looks miserable on media day

y/n.89 how did a picture of my apartment get in here?

arthur_leclerc and where is your water? y/n.89 no comment.

stayinthe_boxboxpod it was lovely having you on the show! hope that our notes are sufficient :)

y/nxarthur did the host know that she's a TAKEN woman yn/&co I know right? she honestly looked uncomfy when the dude wouldn't take a hint

silverstonecircuit see you all on sunday!

You shook his hand and left to meet up with Max, who was waiting for you in the garage with two cans of Red Bull. You graciously took one and snapped the can open. Max took the papers from you and looked through them.

“What are these?” he questioned.

You shrugged, not fully involved in the conversation as you had your phone out, texting Arthur who couldn’t make it this race.

Max suddenly started laughing, making you look at him.

“What is it?”

He turned the papers around. There, on the top of the second page was a phone number with a note and badly drawn winky face. The note said, “Call me if you need a break from your ‘boyfriend’.”

Your mouth was wide open as Max kept laughing. You grumbled to yourself as you plucked that note from the stack and walked into Christian’s office, not knowing that Toto was in there for a meeting.

You didn’t even look at the two bewildered men as you looked around the floor.

“Where’s your paper shredder?” you questioned, walking around to the back of his desk.

Christian gulped before answering, “To the left.”

A soft ‘ah’ left your lips as you finally found it. It left out a weird noise as you booted it up, still completely oblivious to the other team principal in the room.

You had a fire in your eyes as you watched the number be ripped to shreds by the machine. You would have let out an evil laugh, but you didn’t want to bother Christian more than you already were (even though you completely missed that he was in a meeting).

Once you were done, you stood up and left. As you walked out the door you simply said, “Thanks dad,” and shut the door.

Only when the door shut completely, you realized what you had said. Your cheeks heated as you quickly walked back to Max.

Behind the door, Toto was staring straight at the Briton. Christian had a shocked face as Toto smirked at him.

Christian breathed out. “Wouldn’t be the first time a driver to do that.”

“Tell me about it. George just started.”

“I need to tell Geri.”

Your face was buried in Max’s chest as you poured out your sorrows to him. He smirked as he rubbed your back, knowing that he’s done the same multiple times before.

“And I called him dad.”

Toto had left and Christian was talking to Geri.

“And she called me dad!”

y/n.jpg has posted

y/n.jpg his

liked by kellypiquet, francisca.gomez, arthur_leclerc, and 403,295 others

ynsfav UHHHHHHHHH HELLO??? NOT A GOOD MORNING??

y/n&co baby girl has to show that she's taken

rookies_secretbf I bet he makes her feel so good

olliebearman mom, there are children on this app btw

y/n.jpg sorry son, but boys need to know that mom has a man

maxverstappen1 I would say take it down

y/n.jpg but? maxverstappen1 GAGGED HIM (did I do it right?) y/n.jpg perfect

francisca.gomez hot

y/n.jpg learned it all from you

y/n.nation that middle picture tho

Sunday Afternoon:

You basically tried to ignore Christian for the rest of the weekend, but he eventually pulled you to the side to talk to you.

“Kid, I couldn’t count the amount of times that Max has called me dad on my two hands and feet. I’m more than fine with it.”

“Promise?” you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. He gave you a kiss on your forehead (in place of Arthur because he knew you missed him).

“I promise. Not get in your car. It’s race time.”

Starting Grid:

Lando Norris

Max Verstappen

Y/n L/n

Oscar Piastri

Carlos Sainz

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Pierre Gasly

George Russell

Daniel Ricciardo

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Esteban Ocon

Logan Sargeant

Valtteri Bottas

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Lance Stroll

Turns out Lando did get pole and you and Max were basically a McLaren sandwich. You knew that every move had to be strategically done. The McLarens were on another level. And with Oscar’s defensive moves and Lando’s overtaking skills, you and Max were in a pickle.

Throughout the race, it was like a dance. You’d be overtaken, or Max would overtake – and then you’d switch. Along the way, someone spun out, scrunching everyone up during a safety car.

You were on fresh tyres while Max went in to pit.

Mitch came over your radio. “So they’re cleaning up the mess that is Daniel Ricciardo and Logan Sargeant. You’re on new tyres and ahead of Max. Keep position.”

“There’s only like 10 laps left right? Do you think I could get around Lando?”

“Negative. We’re just going for a 2-3. This is plan 2-1.”

Your heart raced at the thought of having a pit of priority over Max.

David Croft voiced his opinions.

“Looks like Red Bull has given their drivers the 2-1 plan with rookie Y/n L/n having priority for a P2 position. In just under 10 laps left, Max Verstappen needs to gain 2 positions to be on the podium. And there goes the safety car with just 10 laps to go.”

You kept your head straight as you defended against Oscar. Max had Charles to go around and then the Australian.

Lando was slowly pulling away from you, so you needed to keep pressing. It wasn’t the photo finish like in Austria, but it was close.

“AFTER 5 SEASONS, 2 POLE POSITIONS, 6 FASTEST LAPS, 13 PODIUMS, 633 CARRIER POINTS, LANDO NORRIS IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 BRITISH GRAND PRIX. WITH FASTEST LAP AND POLE POSITION, HE MAKES IT A GRAND SLAM AT HIS HOME RACE. HE’S SHOWING MCLAREN THAT THEY DID THE RIGHT THING BY KEEPING HIM AND PUTTING TIME INTO HIS CARRIER.

Y/n L/n comes in with her 8th podium finish of the season. Max Verstappen follows her in to make it a Red Bull 2-3 and completes the podium for Silverstone 2024.”

Race Results

Lando Norris – 26 points (+fastest lap)

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Max Verstappen - 15 points

Oscar Piastri – 12 points

Charles Leclerc – 10 points

Lewis Hamilton – 8 points

Carlos Sainz – 6 points

Alex Albon – 4 points

George Russell – 2 points

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Pierre Gasly

Nico Hulkenberg

Fernando Alonso

Lance Stoll

Esteban Ocon

Daniel Ricciardo – DNF

Logan Sargeant – DNF

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 259 points

Charles Leclerc – 212

Lando Norris – 181 points

Y/n L/n – 142 points

Carlos Sainz – 97 points

Oscar Piastri – 80 points

Lewis Hamilton – 79 points

Alex Albon – 43 points

George Russell – 38 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points

Logan Sargeant – 29 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 401 points

Ferrari – 309 points

McLaren – 261 points

Mercedes – 117 points

Williams – 66 points

Aston Martin – 50 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo – 1 point

HAAS – 0 points

You watched as Lando climbed out of his car and just stood on the nose, hands outstretched and pointing at the crowds. Your eye caught the Union Jack and you raced over to grab it. You lifted it high as you tapped Lando’s leg before handing it to him. You could see his blue-green eyes lighten up at the prospect of waving his country’s flag.

You took a couple of steps back and went to congratulate your own teammate.

Your hands met in a clasp.

“Glad to see you made it to the party.” You grinned as you slid your helmet off. Max followed in suit.

The Dutch driver’s hands started to wave around. “Yeah. Didn’t think I had it but then Oscar left just the right amount of space,” his fingers nearly pinched together. Your head leaded back as you laughed.

Max watched as Lando jumped into the arms of the McLaren team but then watched you watched them as well. He nudged your shoulder.

“It’ll be you soon enough.” He heard a huff, but he knew you were listening.

You took one last look at Lando before heading to the cool down room. Your water bottle was immediately in your hand and brought to your mouth. Lando and Max walked in a few moments later. You gave Lando a side hug as he stood next to you.

Whispering, you told him, “You drove so well today. Knew you could do it.”

“Thanks bug.”

When the three of you were called to go to the podium, Max told the Briton, “I’ll try not to break your trophy.”

Lando’s head leaded back as he let out a groan.

“It was one time! One time Max!”

landonorris has posted

landonorris words cannot express the feelings that I have right now. I've been waiting for this moment to arrive and I never thought that it would be at my home race of all places. thank you to the team and to Oscar who held off two of the strongest drivers I have ever raced against. and thank you max for not breaking my trophy

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 703,204 others

lnfour THAT'S OUR BOY

mclarenfan silverstone 2024 winners merch when??

lanno_norris I knew this day would come!!

lando.norizz lando win before gta 6 and before the next ferrari champion ferrari&mclaren_fan that was harsh bro

carlossainz55 congrats cabron, sorry I couldn't be up there with you

carlando MY CARLANDO HEART CANT TAKE THIS STOP

y/n.89 great job lanno! so so proud of you :D

landonorris thanks bug

lewishamilton congrats mate!

lanoscar I needed this today

redbullracing has posted *guys pretend that the third picture is reader ok???*

redbullracing from past to present, lando has been there. congrats landonorris - we'll get you next time

liked by y/n.89, mclaren, papaya_fan, bothshades_oforange, and 503,204 others

redbullcan stop stop stop not a post making me sob

y/n.nation no way that is y/n - look how much younger she is

y/n_on_top what the heck? she knew lando??

redbull+mclaren what in the? my favs on the podium and they all were connected some how??

y/nand_taylor some might say...invisible string? y/nxarthur yeah he is not the boyfriend, but keep dreaming tho :D

y/n.89 ohhhh so you're the one that spooked my horse

landonorris so you're the one that hit me coming off the elevator y/n.89 I plead the fifth maxverstappen1 he just needs to admit that he's our biggest fan

bestrookie89 this weekend was a whirlwind - what even

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