#will delete later but whenever I see it I wanna call out so bad

[genisflyingkites]

sometimes I see my fellow classmates post about how they have autism and their symptoms and I’m like all for it like find yourself and whatever can help you but I can’t help but remember how mean or just straight up ignore my friend or other classmates who was more in spectrum of autism idk…

#internet likes to romanticize symptoms that are easier to romanticize #like having intense special interest but like #but coughing ticks or being unable to verbalize things properly #idk my school was mean to them I remember #will delete later but whenever I see it I wanna call out so bad #don’t be that person #I’m vague posting like a coward but wanna see anyone else relate Shdhdhhdhd

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 3. Go white boy go

Warnings: like- one swear word?

note: a little longer part but the next part is (hopefully) where things start picking up. but there’s written parts so don’t miss those!

You switched off your phone just in time to see Yuta running up to you. He tossed you his helmet as he climbed up the ramp, taking the spot beside you.

“Took you long enough.” You roll your eyes, pushing the boy off, leaving him to slide back down the damp concrete.

“It was only a few minutes.” Yuta groans, dusting himself off to climb back up again. His sad attempts at trying to reach the ledge almost made you feel bad for him. Almost.

“Holy shit you suck at this.”

Despite wanting to help him, the better part of you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. What else were you supposed to do? You are best friends after all. Laugh first, help after. That’s the universal rule for all best friends.

After getting your entertainment from watching the poor boy fail again and again to get a good grip on the ledge, you finally offered him a hand (which he reluctantly took).

“Don’t worry, I made sure to get all the good angles.” You flashed your phone at him, swiping to the side to show him all the photos you took of him.

As he takes in the images, Yuta’s faces turn into one of absolute terror. “Delete those right now!” He reaches for the device.

“Never! You look cute in them!” You smack his reaching hand away. “These are going into my folder!”

“There’s more?!” He lets out a horrified gasp.

“Obviously!”

As Yuta continues to reach for your phone, your phone buzzes. You sneak a glance at it and see a notification from one of your streaming apps.

‘toginu is live now!’

Yuta also sees the notification and stops trying to take your phone, sitting back up and waiting for you to turn on the livestream.

You immediately click on the notification and your brought to the app, the sounds of keys clicking greeting your ears.

The boy continues typing away on his keyboard, occasionally looking at the chat and thousands of messages flood through every second. Looks like you made it in time to watch.

Yuta leaned onto your shoulder, watching your screen. The two of you had an unspoken agreement to watch livestreams together whenever possible.

You turned the volume up and placed the phone next to Yuta before standing up and grabbing your skateboard.

“Keep you updated.” You pushed yourself forward and through the park.

“Time to go.” Yuta stood up, stretching his limbs.

You let out a disapproving groan, flopping backwards onto the cement and staring up into the sky. The sun was slowly rising in the distance, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

“Don’t wanna do anything today.” You sigh.

Yuta gathered his things and wandered over to you, joining you on the ground and admiring the view. “We should go before our parents realize we’re gone.”

“Yeah…” You sat up, grabbing all of your belongings and stuffing them back into your bag before following Yuta out of the park.

It wasn’t long before you reached your house. Yuta pulled into the back as usual for you to easily be able to sneak back into your room via your window.

You gave the boy a quick hug, promising to text him later before running through your backyard towards your room.

“I’ll see you in class!” He called out to you before he sped off in the direction of his own house.

“What class??” You mumble to yourself as you slide your window open.

As soon as you entered your room, your alarm started going off, telling you to get ready for the day. You look at it in confusion. Your alarm only rings on weekdays.

“Time to get up! You got school!” You hear a voice yelling at you from outside the door, accompanied by a loud banging.

“I’m up!” You yell back.

Now you were not only tired, you had to put up with a whole day of classes. You could’ve sworn it was Sunday.

You had a long day ahead of you.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— you rely heavily on yuta to keep track of the time when you guys go out all night (even though he’s worse at time keeping than you are)

— he always manages to get you home in the morning before your parents notice tho

— you have multiple folders in your photo gallery for silly little pictures and videos for all of your friends (most of them are of yuta)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smau #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #yuta x you #inumaki x you #smau #modern au #strawberri-elixir

[toastytransgal]

Holy fuck, I just purged like over 2/3rds of my followers because they were all just sissy or trans-fetishizing blogs. Went from about 1500 to now less than 350. Cause of this I deleted all the pics if myself I've posted here, and don't intend to upload any more. I'll double check later on my pc if I deleted them all, it'd also be nice if anyone could dm me any that I've missed.

Going through all these blogs has made me feel so gross, I found so many blogs run by people saying they "want to fulfill their trans fetish one day", or sissy blogs that say they aren't interested in men or women, ONLY sissies. Like I don't have any problem with your fetish, UNTIL you start associating yourselves with trans people, or tagging your shit with trans people, or fucking CALLING TRANS PEOPLE SISSIES. I fucking hate it, it makes me so unreasonably angry. I just want them all to go away...

Not to mention, whenever I'd post pics of myself, the amount of unsolicited dick pics I'd receive. Holy fuck it's like I'm on grindr in all the worst ways possible. I even feel bad reblogging other trans peoples' selfies, cause now I just sick my fucking huge following of chasers, sissies and weirdos on people unintentionally.

So, from here on out, no more pics of me, if you see any pics of me please send me the post so I can delete it. I'm tired of blocking these people, tired of having the most unpleasant interactions with them. I'm just fucking tired of this. Why can't I just be on the internet in peace, free from fetishizing fuckers harassing me with pics of their cocks. Leave me the fuck alone.

My blog is just gonna be reblogging stuff I find funny, and probably more pics of my dogs. Feel free to unfollow if you wanna. 🤷‍♀️

#transgender #transfem #transgirl #lgbtq #trans #fuck off and leave me alone 😭 #fed up with this shit #sick and tired of being fetishized

[andivmg]

(big paragraph rant ahead thanks to madison beer’s memoir)

okay so i finished reading The Half of It today and i have a lot of thoughts. but i’m gonna post just the pages that spoke to me the most in regard to online stuff and rant

i remember 2021 as being literally one of the worst years of my life this far because of twitter (obviously a bunch of personal stuff too but yk). to this day i’m mildly afraid of the internet which is very silly but very real. because of the part of the internet i was “famous” in i was forced to see every single thing people wrote about me and at first it was super fun super cool but it very quickly shifted into people picking me apart for everything i did or said. then i started associating myself with my ex and his circle of people and it only got worse. their audience was welcoming at first but after a week i would see people call me annoying and a pick me on a daily basis. and this was before i got “called out” for some stuff i don’t wanna get into now because i feel like it has been discussed enough but iykyk. so when that happened people latched onto that and to this day i still get the one off rude message about it. and when people tried to stick up for me i was reduced to sex. which was so demeaning in so many different ways. like the only reason i would ever be worth defending was because of my “pussy”. like that was the only thing about me that mattered. and as a woman on TWITCH of all places i was already hearing that enough. it was even more infuriating knowing that my male counterparts had done so much worse than me and faced maybe half the backlash. and even then had their mistakes and behaviors excused to the point of them not having to own up to them at all. as a woman of color i was held to a much higher standard than a lot of my peers. i was expected to know everything and to never make a mistake. so yeah, i wish i had been kinder to myself at the time. because no matter how mean the internet was to me, i was meaner. at the time it literally felt like my life was over. i would go online and only read bad things about myself. it was such a small group of people though, but i was so chronically online that it felt like the whole world was against me. and it sounds dumb and self centered but it’s how it felt as a teenage girl whose whole life was centered around twitter, tiktok, and twitch. once a big group of us went to universal and i tried to stay out of as many pictures as possible. whenever a fan would approach us as a group i would always offer to take the picture for them because i didn’t want to be in any of them. my friends told me i was being dramatic but i was trying to avoid what ended up happening anyway. people quote tweeting the pictures and making comments about me. i expected every fan that came up to either not know who i was (ideally), or worse, to know and hate me.

madison also talked a lot about being paranoid about her personal life being leaked online and talked about and i felt that deeply as well. once on stream i accidentally showed my lock screen (a picture of me and my ex) for like half a second. then immediately after, i ended stream and deleted the vod along with most of the clips but people had already had seen it and a week later my ex called me up mad as hell because people were posting screenshots of it on twitter and he was not happy about it. people were speculating on our relationship and making fun etc. and i just felt so powerless. like nothing i could do or say would change their mind. now i realize it literally does not matter what people say.

anyway yeah clearly madison’s book brought back a lot of memories for me. it was honestly oddly comforting to read. i know so many people that have gone through similar things and it’s never handled well by anyone involved. i feel a lot more comfortable talking about it now and especially here because i know it won’t become a huge thing since i’m irrelevant now and this is old drama. it’s just nice to write to the void sometimes (you guys aren’t a void i promise but yk what i mean). but yeah i’m over most of the stuff that happened that year. my therapist is amazing and helped me through it all. and now i can talk about it without feeling any type of way. it is something that happened. and i am okay now.

in conclusion, i love madison beer

#rant #the half of it #madison beer

[burgycreeper405-blog]

a messy rant talk cuz am angy

bruh, osc twitter is so fnckin toxic like, they just gave me extreme trust issues that i just start to not follow or even interact with anyone outside of my friend circle immediately even if they art is cool and chet cuz whenever i interact with anyone (like follow, reply or somthin) they will go and block me bcuz someone tells them that i did something bad without even knowing what it is, yet they believe them like they know me better

and the only thing i did was ship knife and mic, ive known that the siblings hc is everywhere and i asked allot of times why its so popular, yet no one is telling me so i did my own search about it but noooo they be harassing and spamming me in quote retweets and calling me out and chet for an info that a newcomer wouldnt know instead of just dm-ing me,, they fr had to tell the public about it

like bro, i just joined not even a year in, just a month in, yet they harassing me like ive been here since day one

and might i let you know that the “proof” they be spamming me is almost a decade old, like, they didnt even ask the person if theyre still okay with it or not, a friend of mine has to ask them about it and guess what, he doesnt even mind it anymore

and then them saying “we reached out to burgy but they did nothing” like??? did my thread that i did and deleting the microknife art mean nothing?? even if the person said that its not even a big deal anymore?? yall need to get more info than just info that’s decades ago cuz like, you do know people change right?

and just cuz i posted that thread a day late cuz like bro, i was tryna write it as clear as possible yet that is nothing to you???

like yeah, i blocked some people but they were spamming and harrassing the frick out of me and chet like dude, i get it, your proof is a decade old, try and see if its still accurate sheesh, shut up, i have never blocked anyone unless theyre being annoying, and thats what i did, i unblocked them a few days later

and now its about the GKGG au??? like bro, it’s an au, obviously its different from canon, and now bcuz of that, my friend has to do an explanation about it here even if it’s so obviously obvious (they even explained there on twitter that the backstory is different from canon, but i guess they don’t know how to read)

haysst

i am so glad that i decide to just keave twitter, ive been wanting to leave twitter since a long time ago cuz i dont even know what to do with it than just like my friends’ & brother’s post and funny retweets and CoryxKenshin says to follow him on twitter/hj

and now, i finally dumped that bird app on the trash cuz, my dash was so full of osc people that i dont even want to interact cuz my gosh, every week is just full of callouts and stuff,and like, they just be bringing up old drama, like even if the person theyre calling out is trying to change and chet or just even the drama was like months or years ago, they be bringing it up like its nothing, like the person didnt apologized and stuff, and what’s worse, people believes the one who did the callout post, they didnt look if what theyre saying is true or not like dude, whats worse is if it’s a fresh wound and the person is trying to change, but i guess the osc twitter doesnt understand the word “sorry” even if you did a whole essay about how sorry you are, it’s like they dont even wait for the other half side of the story bro

two months in knowing and drawing ii and the osc twitter was so toxic like bro, i dont think i can handle years being there, let alone just a month like sheesh

aight

here’s a old random sketch of Katie and a oc named Erick from my tlm superhero au as a, i dunno, a thank you i guess? if you took the time to read all dat, i dunno

i wanna draw more of them,,

#burgy talks

[snapbackslide]

Ranting about my time at the Skills Competition and the boys cause I love this team so much 🫶

I've been trying to write this all day but tumblr keeps deleting parts of my drafts for some reason?? and I'm way too sleep deprived for this negative energy rn so imma just go off of what I remember 😭

Right off the bat... KOVACEVIC?? Star of the day. The guy pulled incredible moves in the shootout, hyped up the crowd, and was just having the best time. AND he speaks French now. Like solid French. I’m so proud. He’s the winner of the day in my book 🫡

Harris? Angel. A whole cute ass angel. I love him so much. He is the nicest dude ever… after the initial warmup, he stayed out for a while talking to fans and signing merch… last guy out. Just an incredible kid, he’s made his way into my heart quickly. I fell in love with the way he played first, getting to know the person was just the cherry on top 🫶 really happy I was able to get some nice pictures of him

One of my favourite parts of the day was any time we saw Suzuki, or whenever it was his turn to participate, we would cheer so loud. And it makes me so damn emotional, having watched him grow into the man he is today, and having always believed in him. Still can't believe I got to meet him a few years back. I will never get sick of seeing him or cheering for him. So proud and thankful to call him my captain.

Idk if this is.. funny or mean I'm sorry, but when Michel Lacroix would call the names of the players, we'd always cheer/clap like AT LEAST a little bit, but from where I was sitting when he called Dadonov's name, it was a deafening silence 💀 I couldn't help but laugh... we're the worst fr

Danick is so made for hosting events like this, I can't believe this dude just went from making meme songs on youtube about the habs to this?! freakin wild for real but he was a really good entertainer today

And um... sorry y'all had to watch me freak out over not getting to see Arber today when he got injured, cause this man showed up anyway 👉👈 it was such a good feeling, the dude next to me was talking to his kid like "look, Caufield is sitting on the bench, with the other injured players!" and bro I looked at that bench so quick and the fact I saw him right away was like. Yeah. You wouldn't let me down 🫶 with his happy camper cap, laughing it out with Slaf. Yeah. Scratched at the game I went to earlier this year, and then injured a week before this... nah. The arm sling was a bad sight but his smile was heartwarming <3 thank you for being there

When they played the Original 1 video at the beginning and they showed him, I swear I got chills for just that one second. And when the DJ played "Xhekaj's song" my heart skipped a beat. I knew I had to be content with just that. I didn't know he'd be at the event, and I didn't know he'd stick around. I thought of going by their parking at the end but I figured he'd probably leave since he's injured. I find out later that 10 minutes after I left he was there, hanging out with fans, signing merch, taking pictures. Should have listened to my gut 💔

Sitting front row was amazing. Now I don't wanna sit anywhere else again 😭 haha it's like seeing the guys' facial expressions in real time, & lip reading adds that extra fun to the in-person events 😂 one thing about the BC & this city is that we put on a show guaranteed

#rants #sorry i just love writing too much... #and depression has made my memory really bad over the years #so i don't wanna forget anything #i didn't take as many pictures as i'd have liked unfortunately #so this is what the paragraphs are for 🫶 #live from the bc

[seokjinsonlyone]

What are your thoughts on Jungkook for the open discussion topic??? I’m working my thoughts out and I’ll send it to you later but I wanna know yours as well 🤪

ahhh jungkookie… this guy is like…. first of all we don’t even need visual aids for him like we’ve all seen the my time performance we know that the inner slut exists but the manifestation is so… he has this duality about him bc he’s like the cutest person ever wrapped in one of the sexiest bodies ever so whenever he taps into how he looks physically…… it’s bad for us

i haven’t got the facilities to think in a linear fashion so i hope y’all are able to connect the dots of the scatter plot i’m about to make but listen follow me idk quite where we bout to end up but follow me red flag 🚩 popped up when they were doing the mbti lab thing and he was the only one who said they wouldn’t mind if someone unexpectedly brought another person along to their plans so like if you were that unexpected friend brought along i can just imagine him not so subtly checking you out upon arrival and then all throughout the dinner or whatever just asking you questions about yourself tryna get to know you better which is like… let’s be honest one of the sluttiest things a man can do is be curious about you and then at the end he’d ask for your number and he would randomly text you like a week later but he would do the thing where he would respond like an hour minimum in between texts even tho he was the one who started messaging you first

and then i can see y’all running into each other at some party or something and he’ll see you from across the room and after like two drinks he’s finally gonna pluck up the courage to go over to you and he’ll be like i know you and you’re just gonna nod and roll your eyes bc he basically ghosted you and you’ll call him out for it and then he’ll apologize and tell you he’s a bad texter but also a switch gon get flipped and he’ll turn real playful and be like “so… you were waiting for my call huh?” and then from there it’s just a whole lot of banter the whole night and he’s clinging to you heavy like wherever you go he goes and depending on how much he’s really feeling you he may be actually clingy too

like okay i feel like if he can see something real coming from your relationship he’s gonna be less touchy than if he just tryna smash u feel me like if you really checking off his boxes like he’s gonna have his arm around your shoulders at most but if he tryna hit it’s gon be around your waist if he tryna make you his girl he may groove with you a lil bit on the floor but if he tryna take you home you’re straight up grinding like he finna get nasty wit it fr get lost in you either way the nights at least ending up with his tongue down your throat like you’re definitely making out whether you get plowed into the mattress or not tho depends on how much potential he sees in you if he sees it he’s leaving it with just the kiss and the promise of more and he’s adding a little heart to your contact and if he doesn’t you’re gonna get a mind blowing night in bed but that’s the last you’re hearing from him like he’s deleting your number entirely 💀

#open discussion #ask of interest

[bemylord]

being their girlfriend/dating them

or they're as your boyfriend

character: sukuna, itadori, nanami, satoru, megumi.

warnings: fluff to smut hdc, curse words, kinda rough and soft boys + sukuna.

note: or they're as your boyfriend/dating them

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ

i don't think he'd call it relationship or love. just the bond that binding you're together. he also doesn't talkative a lot, he prefers to show you his feelings in actions.

as long as itadori is searching fingers, you'll exist in his domain, being the slave and queen in one time. he'd praising and teach you new techniques, but also may use your body as he wants it.

praising to the degradation - generally, nothing new. if you had been bad either you did something on purpose, there will be no mercy for your body and throat - the king knows the way to punish you.

the cute thing is when you are exhausted from the little practice sukuna does in his small domain: breath had been taken away and your body is sweating. all you want is a little break to catch your breath. despite his selfish and demolished nature, he gives you some time in his lap to debilitate your sluggish body. your arms are wrapping around sukuna's neck by accident - it may seem he doesn't give a damn about it, but he pulls you by the waist, put your head on his athletic chest, and have you in arms 'till you'll wake up.

'you are too weak, brat, more energy, put more fury on me, or did you forgotten that i'm the fucking king of this world?' he laughed, knocking off your attacks. he's got a god complex and perfection. 'i'm getting stronger each second, sukuna, don't make yourself as a god'

you are the one he lets talk like that. being tremendously gentle with you is hard for him - he still being rough and could inflict damage, although, after pain, the king will take affection aftercare. but don't think he would murmur some sweat stuff in your ears, just spooning you is enough.

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

master of the aftercare. sensei of the smooch and teacher of how to cuddle a person. he's good at those things. you never complain of how warm and strong satoru's arms wrapping your waist and his lips are kissing the back of your neck. after rough sex gojo would make an apology with soft kisses all over your figure.

cute fights in the kitchen while cooking. satoru is very needy and sometimes, he could be clingy for your attention, trying to get it whenever he wants to feel your body. even fight doesn't stop him - gojo would fight back and hitting on you.

show everyone that you're taken by him by marks he left on your soft skin last night. satoru would give you an order to dressing a shirt which will show his label on your body - wanna get a punishment? disobey the order; sure, later, you will regret it. however, it will be somewhere in the future, so you do mind disobey him?

whisper on his ear how long you've been craving for his fat dick in your dripping pussy and satoru would stop everything he did later, just to bury his cock deep into you, feeling the outlining of his member in your stomach. it's driving him insane when his fat dick rearranging your insides. no words could describe emotions in his soul when you're scratching his back whilst satoru is doing the pulsative movements inside you. 'does it feel good, kitten, doesn't it? feeling my cock in your little tummy, my god.. put your hand on the lower abs to perceive it' 'satoru~, i-i won't take any longer, give me that~' how could he disobey the order of his little angel?

gojo would degrade you only you've got the bad attitude. at other times - you may hear as he repeats the words 'you're so fucking amazing, kitten' he's hazing at the throbbing feeling in his cock you've been giving him.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴊɪ

he's so much loves to play games and dancing with you when he has the time to do that - you'll play all games he bought for those evenings when both of you are playing fools and being kids. he may act like a kid around you, but trust me, he isn't good while railing you.

there's no door named exit while he's eating your out. yuji will apologize for not being close when you want to cuddle him or smack your lips against his. his apologies are mostly his head between your legs and his fingers in your cunt, stretching your walls, preparing you for the night. he makes sure you're enough dripping for his throbbing cock. it gives me a vibe that he'll overstimulated your little clit only with his tongue.

having you in missionary position, leaving the half-moon on your hips, unquenchably fucking your overdose cunt filled up with your juices. but you know itadori adores when you're squirting on his dick, shuddering while giving the huge release. 'that's right, beautiful, give your daddy all juices you've got' his words make you squirt one more time when he's finishing on your chest. quick series of spanking on your cunt and you're melting definitively by him.

but most of the time, you're both doing silly stuff that bothering megumi a lot. actually, you've got a game 'who's bothered megumi first'. it's fun to watch how he's activating shikigami dogs. you're idiots, although happy idiots.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

daddy issues. daddy vibes and daddy chill. you've got no choice but to obey every order he told you to do. no way to escape and no way not being fucked to him if you did have time to do his tasks. his big and strong hands pulling your hair back, so you arch your back, feeling his breath in your ear. scream as loud as you can, 'till you reach the high note you could - he won't stop it.

sweat aftercare in the shower where nanami is washing your hair for you, also massaging your shoulders and kissing your stomach sort of excuses for being too extremely rough with you. but you knew he won't be soft, the language of his sex life is rough and painful. but the aftercare is worth having bruises the next morning around your neck.

nanami is an obsessive and dominant lover, he would mark you as his baby girl, his property, and the woman he's seeing his future with. even if you've got powerful and strong abilities nanami still doesn't allow you to battle the curse. think whatever you want to - he doesn't like the thought of having your dead body in his arms. he doesn't like the thought his small girl would have injuries from the demon.

nanami will show his love in action rather than words. you've got an unspoken rule to kiss your partner when they're tired of the work or giving a good morning/goodnight kiss. even if you're sleeping, nanami kisses your forehead before going to work. nothing could stop him from the morning kiss. you baked warm goods before he returns from the office or battle tired and having no strength. he fucking loves your baked bun.

after work, you make a warm bath for him, where he can loosen his body, burying his face in your hair. 'sweetie, i love you so much, so-so-so much. with you i can enervate myself and get lost in your smell, wrapping arms around your waist, feeling like it's my private heaven'

ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ

i've got a feeling he'd be an overprotective boyfriend. doesn't leave you alone with itadori for the reason he's a vessel for sukuna - don't treat him weird, he trusts itadori, but not sukuna. doesn't like when you interrupting his battle using your abilities because it's making him think about implications.

doesn't show his affection among other students because doesn't like being called a clingy or needy puppy. nevertheless, pulling you closer by your waist to show everyone to fuck away from you. megumi would not hesitate to kiss you with a tongue in front of the students to show them you're taken and your man is crazy.

megumi is more like a homeboy. every time you're alone or having time to spend together, you'll be stuck in his arms 'till you both need to go back to the sorcerer-life. cuddling and smooching are his life - in the bathroom, while you're cooking, watching tv-shows, he's arms around your body, therefore megumi is telling sweet nothings in your ear.

sex life with megumi? complicated question. would be bad and good simultaneously. i still have a thought he'd tied you up and use a flogger on your booty for spanking and preparing your pussy for his dick - it was passed on by his genes [wtf his father omg]. makes you squirt a couple of times, also makes you beg for his fat cock before pull it inside unexpectedly. using a collar with a chain to arch your back 'till it crunches and you moaned because megumi literally choking you.

only god knows how much megumi has kinks for you. how much energy he has to rail you all night and be able to continue that after the sun is illumining the room. 'you're dirty little slut, the rays of the sun in our room, and you still have the energy to squirt' degrading you during coitus and praising you in his muscular arms after.

//~~//

fuck. i was planning to post kuroo x reader x kenma but i deleted my work [by fucking accident i hate myself] that i had been writing since morning. sooo, I'll post it tomorrow. so sorry for the grammar mistake i was writing it on my phone.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #itadori yuji smut #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #megumi smut #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut

[storiesforallfandoms]

pose ~ pete davidson

word count: 1418

request?: yes!

“Hello!! Could you do a Pete fic where the reader is a photographer, they are doing a photoshoot and Pete keeps flirting with her throughout the photoshoot. She brushes this off and continues as normal, but after the shoot they keep running into each other and one day he asks her out on a date and she says yes. Please? Sorry if this doesn't make sense”

description: in which her flirtiest subject runs into her weeks later and decides to finally make a move

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The interviewer kept trying to ask Pete questions, but he kept getting distracted by the photographer who was taking his picture for the article. She was a beautiful young woman who was so engrossed in her work that it made her ten times more attractive to Pete.

“Mr. Davidson,” the interviewer said, the annoyed edge evident in her voice.

Pete dragged his attention from the photographer, a dopey smile on his face that he knew no one could be upset at. Seeing a fantastic photograph opportunity in this, the photographer quickly snapped another shot.

“What was the question?” Pete asked.

The interviewer sighed and shook her head. “Let’s just finish the photographs and finish the interview back in my office.”

“I think we should be good on photographs, actually,” the photographer said. “I got a lot of good ones if you two want to look at them.”

“Wait, I have a great one to finish with,” Pete said.

He turned his back to the photographer and dramatically stuck his butt out. He twitched towards the camera and made a pouty face, putting his finger to his lips. The photographer giggled and took a snap of Pete’s ridiculous pose.

“(Y/N),” the interviewer snapped, “don’t take a picture, that’s unprofessional.”

“I’m not seriously sending it to be used,” (Y/N) said. “It’s just a funny picture.”

“I don’t care, delete it.”

The interviewer stood and walked back to her office, not even asking Pete to follow her. He looked back to (Y/N) to see her face was flushed and she looked a mixture of upset and angry.

“Don’t actually delete it,” Pete said. “I want to see it.”

(Y/N) brought the picture up on her camera and showed it to Pete. “It’s just the rough copy so it’s sort of lame. With the fancy magazine editing it would look really cool.”

“I think it looks great as it is,” Pete assured her. “I’d love to have a copy sent to me.”

“My boss would freak if I did.” Her eyes flicked to the door where the interviewer had just walked away. Pete could see the frustration in her eyes and guessed that this wasn’t the first time (Y/N) had been verbally berated by her.

“I’m sorry you go through that,” Pete said.

She shook her head and waved away Pete’s apology. “Don’t be. I’ve gotten used to it. Doesn’t make it any less infuriating whenever she gets angry for stupid reasons, but it happens.”

“You don’t deserve to be talked to like that, though. You seem very professional, and even that goofy picture you took of me looks incredible.”

(Y/N) smiled and shyly looked down at her camera, unsure how to respond to his compliment.

“You’re also extremely beautiful, but that’s neither here nor there in regards to photography.”

(Y/N) giggled at this.

“You should go finish the interview. Her royal bitch will be waiting for you,” she told him.

Pete didn’t want to leave. He wanted to keep talking to (Y/N), and he really wanted to ask her out on a date. In a very uncharacteristic way for Pete, he found himself too nervous to do so and instead left with a lame “See you around”. The minute he walked out the doors of the studio they had been taking pictures in, he regretted his decision, but continued to the office of the interviewer so he could finally get it done and over with.

~~~~~~

A few weeks later, the article had been published and, unsurprisingly, had blown up massively. It was one of the first interviews that Pete had done that got really deep, and he had talked about a lot of things he had never really publicly discussed before. He fans were eating it up and talking about it non-stop. Pete was happy it had gained such positive traction, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the photographer.

He was in his favorite coffee spot, waiting for his order before running off to work, when the bell over the door rang to signal someone had walked in. Pete glanced up from his phone a moment before looking back down, but then did a quick double take when he realized he recognized the woman who had just walked in.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

(Y/N), who had also been distracted by something on her phone, looked up to see Pete approaching her. She smiled as she pulled out the one headphone she had in her hear.

“Hey Pete!” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you?”

“Doing great! I have a job offer with a bigger photography company than the one I was working for. I’m heading there after here actually.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well I kinda have you to thank for that. They were impressed with the pictures I took for your article and reached out to offer me the job.”

“That must’ve been a saving grace from the wrath that was your boss. When I saw you had included the goofy picture I could only imagine how angry she must’ve been.”

(Y/N) smirked, the memory of her boss’ face, tomato red with anger, after seeing the silly picture taken of Pete in her “very serious” article.

“It was actually the editor’s choice,” she told him. “When I submitted the pictures I had taken, I had included that one by mistake. But the editor loved it. He said that it showcased more of your personality than just your super serious side. He was so insistent on having the picture in the article that he even threatened to take my boss’ name out of the credits if she continued to throw her hissy fit.”

Pete whistled. “That’s brutal. She must’ve loved that.”

“She practically had steam coming out of her ears for a week. She tried to punish me by having one of our other photographers follow her for her next article, but my editor just paired me up with another of our journalists who is much nicer. And now I have this job offer anyways, so there’s really no lose here for me.”

“Well I’m really happy for you. You deserve a place that’s really going to understand your talent and appreciate you for all you do.”

(Y/N) smiled warmly at Pete. She had also been thinking about him a lot since their first encounter. There had been a few times where she almost asked her boss if she know how (Y/N) could get in contact with Pete, but realized that would likely be a bad idea considering her boss basically already hated her.

The cashier called for the next person in line, which was (Y/N). As she stepped forward to place an order, Pete’s name (or rather his fake name as not to be recognized when out in public) was called. He went to collect his coffee and turned back to (Y/N), who had stepped aside to wait for her own. She was looking up at him, almost expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, Pete blurted, “Do you wanna go out some time?”

(Y/N) nearly sighed with relief when he finally said the words. She nodded quickly and took Pete’s hand in her own. She pulled a pen from her bag and wrote her number on his hand.

“Very middle school of you,” Pete teased.

“That’s what makes it so adorable,” (Y/N) responded. “Text me later, we can figure out a time and date. Preferably sometime soon if you’d like.”

“If it were up to me I’d be taking you out right now.”

(Y/N) giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her shoes. “Tempting, but I do have to go for that job interview.”

“How about after that? We can go out to celebrate you getting that super awesome job that you deserve.”

“What if I don’t get it?”

“Impossible, but if that happens then we’ll go out and get fucked up so you forget about the interview instead.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Okay, sounds like a plan.”

Her name was called before Pete could say anything else. She grabbed her coffee and waved goodbye to Pete, calling, “See you later, Pete!” over her shoulder as she walked out the coffee shop door.

Pete had to stop himself from happy dancing in the middle of the shop in front of so many people, but inside he was already celebrating his own little win.

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #requests #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

#michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs smut #cody fern imagines #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon smut #duncan shepherd smut #american horror story 9 #xavier plympton imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagines

[authornina]

Chiniyah “Chi” Cassidy-Porter

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

“Chi you just look like the sun frenched kissed you, hoe!” her hairdresser Jennice said. “I know y’all had a ball, I saw all the pictures on IG.” 

“We did, it was so nice, I wish we could’ve stayed longer.” 

“Y’all came back last night?” 

“Mhm…” 

“So we puttin’ a unit on today?” Jennice asked, playing in her big bush. 

“Yea, I’m tired of this natural shit, I want to feel like me again.” 

“What color?” 

“You got any thirty inches? Ion care about the color. As long as it’s not black.” 

“I got one, it’s yellow though.”

“Ooh, that might be cute, let me see…” While Chi was waiting, she checked her phone. Kierra sent her a text saying that there were no hard feelings and apologizing. Sav was wrong too but at the end of the day, she wasn’t leaving him so there was nothing she could do. “I know this bitch don’t think we gon’ be cool again just like that.” She didn’t reply, instead calling Ivy. “Ew, don’t answer if y’all was being nasty!” 

“Hoe, what do you want?” Ivy asked. She could hear Vant telling her to get off the phone. Chi totally forgot they were on their honeymoon that fast; she was so used to calling Ivy up and talking every day. 

“Tell your friend I don’t accept her apology and she can kiss my ass.” 

“Which one?” 

“Kierra.” 

“Come on, Chi, just let it go.” 

“I have but me and her not cool no more. She coulda kept that energy where it belonged but no, she wanna come at my neck cause Mumu got her feelings hurt. Ion fuck with shit like that.”

“Did you forgive Sav?” 

“No! But that’s my husband and we gon’ work it out whenever I feel like it.” 

“Y’all get on my damn nerves. I will talk to you about it when I get back, let me and my husband enjoy our alone time, bye hoe!” Ivy hung up on her.

“Ard,” Jennice popped her tongue, coming back running a comb through the long bright yellow wig. “What you think?” 

“I think I’m bout to stunt on these bitches. Let’s get it!” Chi was excited. She loved color hair ever since she was a teenager. 

After four hours, getting her lashes done and eyebrows tinted, Chi felt like a new bitch. She couldn’t stay out of the mirror taking pictures. She posted one to Instagram and already had two thousand likes. Sav commented delete this and Chi laughed calling him. He didn’t answer but called back three seconds later from a random number. 

“Why the fuck you got them little ass shorts on?” 

“Sav, bye! I look good! Your nasty cheatin’ ass can’t even give me a compliment.” 

“For what? You got all them lame ass niggas on there thirsty as fuck telling you how bad you are already, and I told you I ain’t fuck her after we got married.”

“I want my husband to tell me,” she responded ignoring his second statement because Chi knew his ass was lying. 

“You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you!” Chi popped her tongue. “Where you at?” 

“I’m around,” Sav responded and Chi knew what that meant. He was probably doing some illegal shit with one of his brothers. “Text me when you get home.” 

“K, love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

It probably wasn’t a good thing that cheating was glossed over the way it was in their relationship, but they’d done it so much to each other, at that point neither could tell the truth from a lie. 

“Girl you gon’ stop traffic! Matter fact fuck that! You are the yellow light, tell the niggas and hatin’ ass bitches to slow they lil hoopties down when a bad bitch strollin’!” Jennice shouted, admiring her handiwork. “Tell me my hands don’t go brazy!”  

“Nah, you that bitch! I look like a million dawlars.” 

“Sure the fuck do! And you better had tagged me.” 

“I did! Bye hoe!” 

Chi walked out of the shop and sure enough the horns were honking, and bitches eyes were rolling. Jennice’s hair salon was located in her old neighborhood so most of the girls around there did not like Chi because their niggas did. Day and Savannah were at Avery’s house with all the other kids, so she decided to stop by her mother’s since she was in the area. 

Martha lived on the same block as she did when Chi was a child. She was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette talking on the phone. 

“Hold on Tressa, let me call you back, my hot in the ass daughter just popped up on me. Ard girl.” Marth pursed her lips as Chi came up the steps. Her child was nothing but her when she was that age. “Look at you, that hair cute.”

“Thank you,” Chi said, kissing her cheek and sitting down. “You ard?” 

“Chiniyah, I am fine…where is my grandbaby?” 

“At Avery’s house.” 

“So that’s your family now?” 

“Why do you have to be like that? They are Sav’s family which makes them mine.” 

“I don’t like his ass. Now all our past family issues is a problem. Soon as you get with that nigga you wanna act all different and shit.” 

“How?”

“You think you too good to be around us now? You too rich?”

“Now I’m never like that and stayed with my own money before I even met Sav. You should be happy for me! I actually married the father of my child.” 

“Yea yea, Chiniyah, congrats to you,” Martha said, sarcastically. “Father of your second child,” she laughed, and Chi bit her tongue not wanting to go off on her mother. 

Over the years she’d realized that Martha wouldn’t change no matter what she did. She and Ivy had a talk once and they both came to the fact that their mothers shared a lot of the same characteristics. Like Ebony, Martha displayed jealousy towards her daughter. 

“Like why you even goin’ there?!”

“You gettin’ smart lil girl?” Martha said, putting her cigarette out. “You ain’t too old to get your ass kicked.” 

Chi mumbled under her breath going in the house. Sometimes she wanted to knock her own mom out. Martha always made everything ten times worst. When she was a teenager, she couldn’t wait to get away from her. The moment she turned eighteen, Chi got a job and moved out on her own. 

Chi stopped in the living room at the big picture of her brother over the mantle whom she loss at a young age. He was her everything back then. He saved her from a life of young motherhood and sadly not only was he taken away but so was the child she thought giving up was the best decision at the time.

“Chiniyah!” her uncle Ivan popped out of the kitchen and she gave him a long hug. “Look at my baby! What that bitch done said to you now?” he asked already knowing how his sister Martha could be.

“Nothing, I just hate when she act like that. Like I did something to her personally.” 

“She won’t let old demons die. Her ass know better than to start in front of me though because I’ll fuck her up behind you.” 

Ivan was Chi’s favorite person in her entire family. He was a surprise baby, so they were only three years apart. Teenage motherhood ran rapid through her family. Her grandmother, mother, aunts and several cousins were youngs moms. But nobody knew her better or tried to understand her more than her uncle. He always took her side when everyone ganged up on her and was there when she’d get into trouble and Martha or her grandmother refused to bail her out. He even supported her career as a stripper. Plenty nights he’d come and party with her at the club. 

“Where is my babies?” 

“At Sav’s brother house. I’m going to get them after this, I had to get my hair done.” 

“I see, my niece a bad bitch.” 

“You seeeee meeeee,” Chi said, flipping her hair. “Grandma not here?” she asked, lifting the tops on the pans. Ivan could cook his ass off, and she wished for Sav she had the patience to learn a thing or two because her poor husband never got a home cooked meal out of her. 

“She went on the bus trip to AC. Her ass gon’ spend all that SSI check then come back mad as hell and broke.” 

“Well if she need anything tell her to call me.” 

“Cause my baby got it like that now, huh?” Ivan smirked.

“You know…” Chi pursed her lips. “I’m holdin’ a lil sum sum.” 

“Bu been by here lookin’ for you. That nigga don’t know when to throw in the towel.” 

“I wish he would stop, I had to beg Sav not to make his ass disappear. You know my nigga not right in the head over me.”  

“Does he know y’all history?” 

“Yea, and it make him not like Bu even more. I hate that I had to choose.” 

“Girl, Sav should’ve been the easiest choice you ever made. You said the nigga can fuck and he got money. Plus, you had his baby bitch. Fuck Bu! He had years to make you his number one. Mr. Sav came along and put a ring on that bitch immediately! That’s the energy you need not Bu slow ass.” 

“It’s more than that, I miss our friendship.” 

“You miss what kept y’all together for so long in the first place. You feel like it’s becoming a distant memory and you don’t want to forget but Chi, you gotta leave that shit in the past.” 

“I did, Ion sweat Bu no more and I wish he would get off me.” 

“That’s how you feel?” the voice caused Ivan and Chi to snap their necks towards the kitchen entrance. Martha must’ve let his ass in. She was only team Bu because she didn’t like Sav.

Bu was so damn fine to Chi. He wasn’t sexier than Sav, but he still could give him a run for his money. He was her height however all tattoos on his tan skin, the way he wore his fitted, the saggy jeans, it turned Chi on. She was a sucker for body ink. Something about it made a nigga look mean and dangerous even though Bu was not that at all, Sav however was another story. 

Chi compared them a lot and most of the time Sav came out on top because he was the father of her child. That trumped everything for Chi. She didn’t want to be with somebody else and have to raise her baby with a stepfather. It didn’t seem right to her and she knew for damn sure Sav wouldn’t allow no shit like that anyway. 

“Bu, what the fuck are you doin’ here?” 

“Your mom let me in, give me a hug, Chiniyah.” 

“No!” Chi backed up. “Do you want my husband to whip your ass again?” 

“Ain’t nobody scared of fuckin’ Sav.” 

“Yea okay, just leave Bu, damn! Everywhere I turn you stalkin’ me.” 

“I know he better take that shit on somewhere,” Ivan said, gripping a pot. “I’ll give your ass a massive headache.”

“But when that nigga beatin’ ya ass or out here fuckin’ every bitch on you, then that’s when you sweatin’ me though.”

“Sav put his hands on you?! Oh hell no!”

“Bu is lyin’, Uncle. He a fuckin’ hater and mad I don’t want his ass.” 

Chi and Bu had been friends since they were little. They lived on the same block and just like back then, he was still in love with Chi. She’d outgrown him but appreciated him as a friend. They went through something very traumatic with one another and it attached them for life. Sav didn’t like the friendship because Chi turned into a liar whenever his name was brought up and he knew they were more than just friends at some point. 

Bu seen Chi through plenty relationships, mostly short term so it surprised him when Sav lasted longer than three months. Even more shocking when out of nowhere she just up and married the nigga. He knew all about the violent relationship they had and didn’t understand why someone Chi expressed hate for at times, she’d give her hand in marriage.

“You’ll want me, when Sav cheat on you again, bust your fuckin’ lips, bruise your ribs, yea,” Bu nodded. “You’ll come crawling right back like you always do.” 

“Chiniyah Cassidy…well…” Ivan thought for a second. “What’s your new last name again?” 

“Porter.” 

“Chiniyah Porter, you better tell me something. Is this nigga tellin’ the truth?” 

“No!” 

“Yes!” Bu said, and Chi wanted to punch him in the face. 

“Uncle, I’m bout to go,” Chi kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later and this weekend we can do a girls day.” 

“Ard, and your fresh ass better call me!” 

Chi pushed Bu out of the kitchen towards the front door while he laughed. He knew he blew up her spot, but he didn’t care. He was tired of her using him whenever she was mad at Sav.

“You think everything is so funny,” Chi said, not in the slightest amused.

“I miss you,” Bu wrapped his arms around her. “Can I have a kiss?” 

“No!” Chi turned her head and his lips landed on her neck making her giggle. “Get off, Bu!” 

“Come chill with me.” 

“Nope, I gotta go home to my children and husband,” Chi flashed her ring. 

“Fuck that nigga.” 

“You really bold,” Chi laughed. “Say something else about my man and I’ma fuck you up myself.” 

“I had you first. I mean first first. You was my bitch.” 

“What that mean to me?” Chi asked, not bothering to move him out of her personal space. Maybe the game she and Bu played was fun. “I’m his bitch now, you need to get the fuck outta here with that before he really kill you this time.” 

“Fuck. Sav.” Bu slid his hands up her shirt, squeezing her braless breasts. Chi wanted to slap herself when a moan escaped against her will. It was history that kept her from setting boundaries with Bu. Like her body spoke to Sav it did the same for him. She couldn’t help it.

“Don’t…” Chi shuddered when his mouth touched her skin. “Disrespect my man.” 

“What is goin’ on in here?” Martha snatched the screen door back and Chi pushed Bu away.

“Nothing, Mommy, Bu was just leaving,” Chi glared at him. 

“Yea I’m out, Ms. M, take care,” he said kissing her cheek. 

“Come by anytime, Bernard,” Martha said, calling him by his real name. 

“Yea Bernard,” Chi teased, and Bu discreetly stuck his middle finger up at her. When he pulled off, she didn’t realize she was still staring in the same place.

“If you love that one, why you marry the other one?” Martha asked, bringing Chi out of her daze.

“Mom, what are you talkin’ bout? I do love Sav.” 

“Yea, sure you do. But Bu got a piece of you too.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“It mean Sav ain’t the only one whose sperm work on your lil fast tail ass!” 

“Ard, I’m out,” Chi said with her nose turned up. Martha always ruined shit with the past. Something she felt like wasn’t her fault, but her mother would never let her live it down.

“You go ahead back on to your lil fancy ass castle,” Martha yelled after her. “You remember where everybody is that really love you!” 

“It ain’t you!” Chi shouted back with more courage since she was outside, and her mother was behind the screen.

“Little girl,” Martha shoved the door open with her shoe in her hand. 

Chi laughed running to the car and speeding off. She stopped at a red light, looking to her left and of course Bu was sitting there smiling. He nodded for her to follow him and Chi shook her head no. Bu shrugged then turned once the light changed. Chi fought with the angels and demons before going the same way.

#Onus #authornina #nina

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

#oh man i loved writing this chapter #pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly one shot #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #mine #pierre gasly fanfiction #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf

[thisissirius]

for @capseycartwright​ who CONSTANTLY screams about fic with me and is my pillar of support in the trying times of europe timezones and watching the episodes.

nothing left to lose but everything i have [ao3 link] eddie/buck, buck begins spoilers, buck emotions and best friend feels.

If that’s how you feel, you have every right to say something. 

Sometimes, Eddie needs to take his own advice. 

Watching Buck’s anger, the casual way he said hit things like neither of them had a personal reminder of why that was a bad idea, it hurt. Buck was suffering in ways he refused to talk about, ways that Eddie couldn’t understand.

“You can talk to me,” he says, to what might as well be a brick wall. 

“You can come over,” though he knows Buck won’t. 

“I don’t want to see you hurting,” that he only ever says when he’s alone. 

Then. 

“Defective parts,” and Eddie feels adrift, unable to parse Buck with the idea that he’s only ever been spare parts. 

“That’s not on you,” Eddie says, because how could Buck think— 

When Buck says, “I doubt they would agree,” Eddie wants to scream. Or find the Buckleys and tell them— 

Buck’s everything. 

______

Later, when Buck’s on his way to the hospital, Eddie stays behind. 

He’s there when the Buckleys show up and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but for them to be so kind and polite is not it. Eddie leans against the balcony as they listen to kind words about Buck from those filtering through. Chim, Hen, a couple of other guys. Eddie stays silent from most of it, avoiding the looks Chim and Hen throw him. 

When he thinks about just walking away—he refuses to talk to them as if everything’s normal—Margaret turns to him. “Do you—”

“Margaret,” Chim starts, because he knows. 

“I know Buck,” Eddie says casually. “Better than anyone else in this room.”

Margaret looks taken aback, and Philip opens his mouth, but Eddie doesn’t let him get a word out. 

“I’m his best friend,” Eddie continues, pushing himself up. He’s not an overly tall guy, but he knows he can look intimidating when he wants to. He doesn’t want to, he just needs them to understand. “I almost watched him die today.”

“What,” Margaret starts, pressing a hand to her mouth. 

Philip looks shocked. “What happened?”

“A fire,” Eddie says calmly. 

“He’s okay,” Chim says quickly, throwing Eddie a dark look. 

“Yeah, he is,” Eddie agrees. 

Chim shakes his head. “So why bring it up?”

“Do you think they care?” Eddie asks. There’s a silence in the room he hates. “If they cared, they’d have been here after the fire truck. After the blood clots, or the tsunami.”

“You have no idea,” Margaret starts. 

“What it’s like to lose a kid?” Eddie sees the way they close down, offended, and he sighs. “No, you’re right, I don’t. But I did abandon my kid. I went to war and was treated like a hero for abandoning my kid. But you know what? I fixed it. He was six, and I fixed it. I came home and I loved him and I still love him. You can tell me you love Buck,” he continues, when Philip opens his mouth, “but if Buck doesn’t feel it? I don’t give a shit, and he’s never talked about you beyond a sentence or two.”

Hen stands. “Eddie.”

“No, Hen,” he says, and wonders why he’s not angrier about this. He’s just exhausted for Buck, wonders how he’s come out the way he has with parents like this. “I’ve listened to everything he’s screamed at me,” he continues, addressing Margaret and Philip once again. “He doesn’t tell me, but I can see it anyway. And right now? He thinks he’s defective parts.” Again, a flinch. “Buck deserves so much better than you’ve given him.”

“We lost a son,” Margaret says, and Eddie hates the pain in her voice. He can remember too clearly Buck standing in front of him, that split second he thought he’d lost Chris for good. 

Eddie nods. “You did. But you had another son. Buck, who I’m grateful for every day, who probably wouldn’t be here if you’d been decent parents, but I can’t even thank you for that. Because you hurt Buck, time and again. Made him think he wasn’t good enough, and I can tell you from personal experience that it sucks.”

Silence. 

“I love him,” Eddie says, and doesn’t care what they infer from that. “My son loves him. He’s a good parent,” he adds, because it’ll hurt and some vicious part of him wants it to. “I think he learned it from Maddie.”

______

Downstairs, Eddie takes a moment. Cap’s on his way back with Buck and he needs to get his shit together because Buck needs him to. 

Knuckles rap on the doorframe and Eddie sighs. “I’m not sorry.”

Hen makes a noise in the back of her throat. “I didn’t expect you would be.”

They lapse into a calm silence, and Eddie breathes out, in, out. “They needed to hear it.”

“Perhaps.” Hen crosses the room, standing in front of him, but Eddie doesn’t look at her. “You’re hurting.”

"Buck needs me to be strong," Eddie says, staring down at his hands and ignoring the implication.

Hen sits opposite him, resting a hand on his knee. Eddie looks up, meets her eyes. "Who's strong for you?"

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it.

"Eddie, you're allowed help, too."

"I know," Eddie says, because he does. "I don't wanna put that on anyone."

Hen nods, and he's grateful she gets it. "I'll take it." Eddie shakes his head, but Hen's hand squeezes his leg gently. "Eddie, I'm not asking."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, feels the burning in his eyes. "Thanks, Hen."

_______

“I know you did,” Eddie says, and means I love you. 

Watching Buck walk away, knowing the things he’ll probably hear— 

“They’re hearing more stories,” Hen assured him. 

Eddie doubts that’ll distract from the things he said. Cap tells him to go home. Chim doesn’t seem to know what to say to him. Hen watches him. Eddie waits. He needs Buck to know he’s not gonna just walk out when shit’s going down in his life.

“Eddie,” Buck says, coming down the stairs. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah.” Eddie feels his stomach swoop, and he leads them out onto the main drive. “Buck, I—”

Buck presses a hand to Eddie’s chest and Eddie’s mouth shuts so abruptly he almost bites his tongue. There’s a quiet devastation to Buck that hurts like a knife through Eddie’s chest. “Chim just said—Maddie—I need to go and see Maddie.”

It’s not what Eddie’s expecting. “Okay.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, and he looks confused, hurt. Eddie reaches up, curls his fingers around Buck’s wrist. “She let Doug—”

“Come over later,” Eddie says quietly, before he can change his mind. “After you speak to Maddie?”

Buck hesitates. “Yeah?”

“Please,” Eddie says, and hates himself for begging. He doesn’t know how to continue, but he can see Buck needs him to. Maybe parts of him are still unsure, but Eddie thinks it’s the confusion, complete life-changing information he’s had thrown at him. “Chris will wanna see you.”

“And you?” Buck asks tentatively. 

Eddie nods, decides to be honest. “Always.”

_____

Time stretches. 

Eddie doesn’t remember much of what happens between leaving the station and the key in his door. Chris is getting ready for bed, excited for Buck to come over, and Eddie closes his eyes, tries to dig for the strength he needs. 

Call me whenever you need, Hen texts, just after dinner. 

Buck’s not the only person who’s found family in LA. 

“Hey,” Buck says quietly. “Is Chris—”

“Just getting ready for bed,” Eddie assures him. “Are you okay?”

Buck opens his mouth to answer.

“Buck,” Chris says, over whatever Buck might reveal. “You came!”

Everything about Buck changes. It’s not a front; Eddie knows Buck well enough to see. The love shining out of every part of Buck, the way he’ll always get on Christopher’s level, the affection in his expression and voice when he says, “of course I did. I always keep my promises.”

Chris comes over for a goodnight hug and kiss, and then he and Buck disappear down the hall. Eddie concentrates on breathing in and out, doesn’t know why he feels so untethered when it’s Buck’s life on a spiral. Again, time slips away from him, and he startles when a hand touches his face.

“Hey,” Buck says.

“Sorry,” Eddie says quickly, sitting up. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I can’t handle this,” Buck says, talking quickly, “if you treat me like I’m gonna break.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t think that. Buck, you’re the strongest person I know.”

Buck doesn’t seem to know what to say. He moves around Eddie’s legs, dropping onto the couch next to him. He rubs his hands on his jeans, and Eddie reaches over, takes the one closest to him and squeezes. Buck nods to himself. “I forgave them.”

“Okay,” Eddie says quietly, waiting to follow Buck’s lead. 

“I thought it would be harder,” Buck continues. He smiles, but there’s nothing funny about it. “But you know why it wasn’t?”

This one Eddie does know. “You don’t care enough for it to matter.”

Buck nods, swallowing, and dragging Eddie’s hand closer, holding it against his stomach. Eddie’s glad he can be whatever Buck needs him to be. “Yeah. You always understand me. Apparently my parents know that too.”

Eddie refuses to be ashamed about it. “I hate that they’re so—they think their grief entitles them to treat you the way they have and it doesn’t.”

“Eddie—”

“I wish you’d had better,” Eddie admits carefully, meeting Buck’s eyes. “You deserve better.”

There’s a shine to Buck’s eyes, and he squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I don’t want to see them again.”

Good. “Okay.”

“I need you to—keep me straight on it, okay, because I might cave because I always you do.”

“No, you don’t,” Eddie says, shifting so that he can look at Buck properly. He leans in a little, needs Buck to understand. “You wanted to be loved, Buck, but you don’t need them for that. You have me. Us,” he amends, not because he’s ashamed, because he needs Buck to know there’s more than just Eddie for him. “All of us.”

“I know,” Buck whispers, and there’s truth in his words, his expression. 

“You can do this.” Eddie nods. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Buck uses his free hand to pull out his phone, seemingly reluctant to let go of Eddie’s had. “Can you,” he says, “delete their numbers for me?”

Eddie would do anything for Buck, and Buck knows it. This, though, he won’t do. “No,” he says, but holds tightly to Buck in case he tries to pull away. “I would do anything,” he continues, catching Buck’s gaze and holding it, “but this you need to do for yourself. I can forget them about as easily as I’ve known them, but this is yours to let go of.”

“You’ll be there?”

“Whenever you need me to be.” Eddie sees Buck’s finger hover over his phone. “It doesn’t have to be now.”

“I want it to be,” Buck says honestly, looking up. “I want to do it now, with you. Like this.”

“Alright,” Eddie allows. He watches, rubbing a thumb over Buck’s hand as Buck deletes them from his phone contacts, from his emails. He even sends a text to Maddie to let her know what he’s done. Buck puts the phone face down on the arm of the couch and Eddie says, “I’m proud of you.”

Buck sounds wrecked when he says, “Eddie.”

Eddie waits.

“I think I need a hug.”

“I said whatever you need,” Eddie says, “and I meant it.”

Buck hesitates a fraction of a second and then all but falls into Eddie. Eddie wraps his arms around Buck, tucks Buck’s head under his chin and waits for the flood. It comes slowly; a steady trembling of Buck’s body, a hand fisting into his shirt, a sob, and then tears. 

“I’ve got you,” Eddie whispers gently. He brushes a kiss to the top of Buck’s head. “I’ve got you.”

______

Eddie doesn’t want to let go. 

Buck doesn’t want him to let go.

Eddie shifts until they’re stretched out on the couch, Buck against the back, Eddie on the edge, still curled around him. They need to invest in a new couch if they’re going to keep doing this, but for now, Eddie wraps around Buck and whispers, “I’ve got you,” once more into his hair.

“I know,” Buck says gently. “You always have, Eddie.”

“Just like you’ve always got me.” Eddie knows what a gift that is, to be loved by Buck. Someone who’s had precious little love in his life. Except Maddie. Eddie whispers a private thanks for Maddie in the back of his head. Running his fingers through Buck’s hair, he swipes a thumb over Buck’s cheek, wiping away stray tears. 

Buck nods, sliding a hand up Eddie’s waist, forehead pressing into the crook of Eddie’s neck. “I don’t know where to go from here.”

Eddie doesn’t either. “We’ll find out together.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks, because they both know where they’re headed, but it feels too new to break with definitions or certainties. 

Leaning in, ghosting a kiss over Buck’s lips, his cheek, Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Buck says, and he reaches up, fingers warm against Eddie’s neck. “Together.”

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #otp: i forgive you #911 spoilers #fic by me #i'm not over it #hahaha it's here #oop

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue [teaser]

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: ~20k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

❀ coming 1/19 at 7 P.M. PST;

❀ a/n: yes, i posted a teaser half a year ago but here’s a little snippet that i finally got around to writing!

POSTED AS OF 1/19

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush texture of his lips. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would think you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifetime commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

#jin x reader #bts scenarios #jin scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #jin angst #jin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #jin x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #bts au #bts fic #jin fic #seokjin fic #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bangtan fic #scriptaed

[daveeddiggsit]

No Return

Note: so this is not a new fic. i actually posted it back in 2017 (but deleted all my smut from this blog about a year afterwards haha we love being impulsive). but i’m over myself now, so i’m reposting! a lot of you have been asking about it, so... here you go. posted for all of y’all to enjoy again.

Word Count: 4.7k

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: smut. cursing.

Summary: Diggs loses a bet which results in him owing you a lap dance.

Parties at Rafa’s place were always the best; the drinks were great, the music was amazing, the atmosphere was never dull, but the best part about them were the incredible people that made up each one; you were never bored. There was always something to do whether you were talking to people, dancing, playing drinking games, or just drinking in general. And that’s why whenever you were told that there was going to be a party at Rafael Casal’s apartment, you never turned it down...even if you ended up showing up late.

“Well, look at who finally decided to show up.” You heard a familiar voice say as you walked through the door to Rafa’s place. Daveed grinned widely at you before he slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him as you walked deeper into the apartment. “My favorite!”

Daveed was one of your closest friends and if you were being honest, it would have been a lie if you said you didn’t want him to become something more than that. The two of you often flirted and were constantly together (these occurrences happened so often that there were many times people believed you were dating), but neither of you had made a real move. You knew how you felt toward him, and he was giving you signs that he felt the same way, but no true actions were made by either party. So that’s why it stayed the way it was between you two: just close friends who often flirted with each other.

“Aw, I’m your favorite?” You asked, raising your voice so he could hear you over the loud music that was pumping through Rafa’s speakers.

“Uh, yeah,” he stated as if it was obvious, “but don’t tell anyone else. It’s a secret between you and me.” He whispered in your ear as you entered the kitchen.

Yeah, he had definitely downed a few drinks before you got here.

“Diggs, I’m pretty sure everyone heard you when you shouted it.” You laughed as you plucked the cup half-full of alcohol from his grasp, draining it of its contents. He pouted at you once you handed him back an empty cup.

“Y/N, hey! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” Adrienne said from beside Rafa who was pouring out a few drinks.

“Hey!” You pulled away from Daveed’s grasp to give her a hug. She’d been away in Canada for the last few weeks shooting for a new project she was working on. “I’ve missed you! Why’d you have to leave me alone to deal with these boys for so long?”

Adrienne laughed while Rafael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, so you didn’t miss me? I see how it is, Y/N, I see how it is.” He feigned hurt, before pushing a couple of newly filled cups towards you and Daveed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “We had lunch a few days ago, Cash, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen you.”

“But so much has changed since then.”

You chuckled before taking a sip. “Like what? Did you finally finish that song you’ve been working on?”

“No.” Rafael replied before he smiled at Adrienne beside him. “Unlike Diggs, I am no longer a single and lonely Bay Boy.”

Daveed’s eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head. “Yo, who said I was lone—?”

“You guys are finally together? Oh my god, congrats!” You cut in with widened eyes.

They both grinned at each other before Rafa leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Aww,” you gushed, “you two are couple goals already.”

A few seconds passed before you felt Daveed’s arm drape around your shoulders again.

“You know, we could be couple goals too.” He said, looking down at you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away. “Ha, you wish, Diggs.”

You laughed it off because you knew he was too tipsy to be serious. He always flirted with you like this, but why did this time feel so different?

A few drinks later, you were beginning to feel the familiar light-hearted, buzzing feeling course throughout your body, giving you a boost of energy. You had drifted away from Daveed and Rafa to roam through the house and catch up with people you hadn’t seen since your Hamilton days. You were talking with Adrienne and Ari when you heard your name being called from behind you.

“Aye, Y/L/N!”

You turned your head to see Daveed standing next to a table a few feet away. 

“Diggs!” You responded in the same playful tone.

He grinned at you before waving you over. “Come play Flip Cup with me.”

“Really?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You lose every time you play against me, D.”

“I’m feeling confident today. I’ve been practicing.”

You tried not to laugh as you rose from your seat and approached him. “Practicing?”

“Bruh,” Rafa snickered at his friend from the other end of the table. “You played a few games before this and won two in a row. That ain’t practicing.”

You let a smug grin show up on your face as you glanced back up at your best friend. “Daveed, I am the queen of Flip Cup, okay? You can’t beat me. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. That’s a fact.”

“I’m pretty sure I can beat you today, Y/N.” He said bluntly. Wow, he was forward when he was drunk. “I have a good feeling about this.”

“Ha,” you huffed out a laugh, “wanna bet?"

“What do you propose, oh mighty Queen of Flip Cup?”

You thought for a second. What was something you knew would make him think twice about challenging you? Something that would make him step down from this newfound cockiness he embodied.

When the idea formed in your head, you sent him a sly grin. “Winner gets a lap dance from the loser.”

You distinctly remembered an earlier conversation with him where he stated that he couldn’t dance. You knew it was untrue due to the times you’d seen him dance at the club or during some of the numbers in Hamilton, but you also knew that the wager wasn’t something he’d necessarily jump on (despite the confidence boost the alcohol had supplied him).

Rafa led the mini crowd that had formed around you in a chorus of “ooo”s.

“Deal.”

You looked up at Daveed in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to agree to the terms so easily.

“Diggs, that means if you lose— sorry, when you lose, you have to give me a lap dance.”

“I know.” He said seriously.

“And you’re good with that?”

“If it happens, which it won’t because I’m gonna win, then yes.” He stated, his mouth forming into a confident smile. “I’m good with that.”

Fine, he wanted a challenge? You were going to give him one.

“Alright, then.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Game on."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Daveed lost. Badly.

So badly, in fact, that you actually felt bad for him. So you tweaked it so it was the best out of five games...and even then, he still lost.

Oh well, it’s not like you didn’t warn him.

When the third game ended and Daveed realized his defeat, he threw his head back and groaned.

“Aww, don’t be such a sore loser. You lost fair and square, Diggs. ” You teased with a smile, wrapping your arms around his torso to hug him from behind. “I warned you. I told you I was the queen of Flip Cup, but you didn’t listen.”

“Those cups were rigged, Y/N.” He stated, turning around in your grasp so he could hug you back.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Say whatever you want to make yourself feel better. Nothing’s gonna change the fact that you owe me a lap dance.”

He was quiet for a moment before he murmured something. “You know I can’t dance, right?”

“First of all, yes you can. And secondly, lap dances are different, Diggs.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes they are. And if you don’t think they’re different, you dance at parties all the fucking time. You should be able to handle an easy lap dance.”

He lifted his head back up from your shoulder to look down at you. “But Y/N...”

You let out a laugh before you patted his cheek lightly. “You dug yourself into this hole, loser. Guess you’re just gonna have to figure it out because you’re not getting out of this one.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next day you woke up to someone knocking on your door. In sweats and an old t-shirt, you made your way over to unlock it, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light. The slight hangover you had wasn’t really helping you get out of your groggy state.

“Daveed?” You asked, realizing who your visitor was once your vision adjusted. “What are you doing here so early?”

He was dressed in a yellow Oaklandish tank top that showed off his toned arms/shoulders and dark blue jeans with a brown belt buckled just enough to let them sit loosely on his hips. You also noticed that he decided to rock his glasses today.

You snapped your eyes up to his and away from his figure that left you breathless. You totally had not just checked him out.

“If your definition of early is 2 o’clock in the afternoon, I think you may need to reevaluate some things and consider fixing that sleep schedule of yours.” He replied with his lips turning up into an amused grin.

“Shut up, I had a late night last night.” You mumbled, turning around to walk away, leaving the door open so he could let himself into your apartment. “And you did too. I’m surprised you’re not asleep right now.” You glanced back at him to see him shrug.

“I had to meet Bill and Jon at the studio at 10. I’ve been up since, like, 9:30.”

“Damn, Diggs, you’re gonna have to teach me your ways.”

“Caffeine.” He chuckled, putting on his signature grin. “It works miracles.”

You returned the smile, before sending him a curious look. “So, why are you here? Not that I mind or anything, it’s good to see you, but you haven’t been over in like a month and a half.”

“Exactly! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out alone, so I thought it’d be dope if we chilled and watched movies or something.” He replied before he went to ramble on. “I mean— only if you want to. If you’re really tired, I can leave so you can get some more sl—”

“No, no, it’s fine! That sounds great.” You cut him off and placed a hand on one of his toned arms to reassure him. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah!” You responded. “Just let me take a quick shower and we can start in like 20ish minutes.”

“A 20 minute shower counts as a quick shower?” He questioned with a teasing look.

“Yes,” you said, “or would you rather it be 45ish minutes?”

“20ish minutes is good. Have fun with your quick shower. Though, I think it would be more fun if I joined.” A tiny but noticeable smirk made its way onto Daveed’s face.

You laughed when he sent you a playful wink, dropping your hand from his arm to walk towards your room. “You wish, Daveed Diggs.”

“You have no idea.” He mumbled under his breath (inaudible to your ears) before he let his eyes follow your retreating figure.

“Maybe you could set up the movie in the meantime? It’s your turn to choose. The remote’s on the coffee table and you know where the popcorn and shit is in the kitchen. I’ll be out soon. If you need anything, yell.” You said before closing the door to your room.

Daveed sent a thumbs up in your direction even though he knew you couldn’t see it before he made his way to your living room.

Little did you know, Daveed had something else planned.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you emerged from your shower, you quickly dried yourself and combed through your now damp hair. After that, you exited your room and entered your living room to see that it was completely dark. Confused, you surveyed the room to look for your best friend, but there was no sign of him at all.

Did he leave? If he did, he didn’t text you or anything to let you know.

“D?” You called out, walking further into the room.

With each step you took, the more you realized how this seemed like a scene from a horror film. You weren’t a fan of them, but a few months back Daveed and Rafael had pretty much forced you to have a scary movie marathon with them.

“Daveed Diggs, I swear to God. If you’re trying to scare me right now, I will—”

You squeaked when a pair of arms snaked their way around your waist from behind. Daveed’s voice had come seemingly from out of nowhere. “You’ll what?”

“Kick your ass.” You glared at him, quickly turning around to push him away. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He laughed, smiling brightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re not.” You grumbled, moving to sit on your couch. Daveed followed you.

“You right. It was so worth it.” He grinned at you, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You tried to stay mad at him, but it was damn near impossible when he was looking at you like that.

“We’re not friends anymore.” You stated, crossing your arms.

“What, why?” He asked, his grin dropping into a pout.

“You were mean to me, Diggs! How dare you scare me in my own home!” You were laughing internally.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry for real this time. What can I do to make it up to you?”

When he asked, you contemplated it for a few moments before you looked up at him with a smirk.

“What?” He asked.

“Well, you still owe me that lap dance…”

He groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the couch. “I thought you forgot about that.”

“Nope.” You said, your smirk forming into a smug grin. You had the upper hand now. “How could I forget you losing a bet against me, resulting in a lap dance from the great Daveed Diggs himself?”

After a couple of seconds, he sighed, opening his eyes and tilting his face towards you. “If I do this now, will I win back your friendship?”

“I’ll think about it.” You said, causing him to give you a deadpanned look. You laughed before you spoke again. “Yeah, I guess we could be friends again. But it has to be good.”

Daveed sighed again before he straightened himself up. “I don’t even know how to give a good lap dance, Y/N.”

“Improvise. C’mon, D, you’re great at improv. Treat it like you treat a freestyle. Just go with the flow.” You smiled widely at him.

“Fine.” He said, getting up from his spot next to you. “But I’m only pulling through with this because I like you.”

“Aww, you like me?” You asked teasingly to mask the actual feeling that was coursing through you. You continued to grin at him as he pulled out his phone to scroll through his music library. When he finally settled on a song by The Weeknd, he turned to you once he pressed play.

“Do I start now?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “C’mon, you know how a lap dance works. You’re not a novice when it comes to these things, stop fucking around.”

You could see him smile and rub his arm before he looked away for a second. When he started to slowly sway to the beat of the song, it was extremely hard for you to stifle your laugh. Your best friend was about to give you a lap dance and you could not take him seriously.

He continued to dance to the beat for a bit as he stared you down with a smirk. He was doing this shit on purpose. He was joking around until you couldn’t contain your laughter any longer.

“Diggs, I can’t take you seriously like this. I can—” You wheezed. “I just can’t.”

Your laughter and the slow, sexy beats of the music were the only audible things in your apartment until Daveed spoke again. 

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?” His smooth, low voice washed over you.

You let out yet another giggle. “Don’t make it sound so sexual.”

“It's supposed to sound sexual, Y/N, it’s a fucking lap dance.” He chuckled, now standing directly in front of you.

“Alright, show me what you got, Bay Boy.”

You continued to laugh at him as you watched him, but the moment he straddled your lap, you stopped. His arms were on each side of your head, using the couch to steady himself over you as his hips began to slowly grind against you. That’s when the atmosphere in the room completely changed.

Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him bite his bottom lip in concentration. When you envisioned Daveed giving you a lap dance the night prior, you didn’t think it would be like this...it was flustering you more than you thought it would. Before you knew it, you were struggling to control your movements. Your fists were clenching and unclenching as you so desperately tried to keep them anchored to your sides.

As if he had read your mind, Daveed murmured, “You can touch me, Y/N. Don’t be afraid.”

If you weren’t turned on before, you definitely were now. His gravelly voice paired with his hot breath right next to your ear caused you to shiver, making goosebumps appear across your entire body.

Then, you finally let your hands wander. They traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulders, then back down again to move under the hem of his tank top so you could feel his bare and strong torso. Sure it was a bold move, but the more and more Daveed grinded on you, the less and less you cared. When his tank top rode up to the point where you could see all of his abs, he paused to stand up and quickly get rid of the article of clothing before he came back to straddle you again. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you looked up at your best friend. He looked undeniably attractive when he was on top of you shirtless and with his glasses on. Every feeling you had ever felt for him came crashing down on you at that moment and that’s when you just about lost your self-control. Part of your brain was screaming at you, saying that you were about to cross a line that you could never cross again...but at the same time, all of your cares had disappeared.

You used your newfound courage to cup Daveed’s face in both of your hands and pull him into a deep kiss. He gasped softly, surprised at the sudden contact, but quickly eased into it. 

You had just passed the point of no return.

You didn’t know what to expect when you decided to kiss him, but it was better than you could have imagined. When you pulled back, his mouth was slightly dropped in awe and one of the sides slowly twitched up into a soft smile. (It was kind of adorable.)

“Daveed, I like you.” You blurted, short of breath.

His face broke out into a full grin. “I like you too, Y/N.” 

“No,” you shook your head, moving your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders. “I mean like— like like you.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “I mean, I figured given what just happened a few seconds ago. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact with him. You subconsciously traced one of your thumbs across his collarbone. “I was afraid of rejection, I guess.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?” You asked, sounding offended.

Daveed caught your gaze again, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N, I’ve had like the biggest fuckin’ crush on you since Ari introduced us.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I’m actually really surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your crush earlier, Diggs?” You voiced, giving him a pointed look.

He gave you a shy smile when he moved off of you to sit beside you, still facing you. “Same reason as you.”

“You know what? I’m not even mad about not knowing sooner.” You said. “I’m glad we found out like this.”

“You’re just happy I gave you a lap dance with my amazing skills.” He teased with a laugh of his own.

You laughed again, and pushed at his chest so he could lay on his back and let you crawl on top of him to straddle his waist. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think you had it in you, Diggs.”

His jaw dropped completely as he looked up at you. “But you said that I could do a lap dance when even I said I couldn’t!”

“That’s true, but to be fair, I never said you couldn’t do a lap dance. I just didn’t think you’d do as well as you did.”

Your response brought yet another smile to his face as you leaned closer to him. “I’mma take that as a compliment.” He said softly.

At this point, the song Daveed had chosen had ended a while ago and the lap dance was long over.

“Good.” You responded before you kissed him again.

This one was different from the first. It started off soft, but quickly turned passionate and heated. As your mouths moved against each other, Daveed’s hands moved from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The only word you could use to describe this feeling was just complete bliss.

When you reached down to Daveed’s belt buckle, he shivered, causing you to smile against his lips.

Then he pulled away, panting. “Y/N…” he breathed. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to— fuck.” He cursed as you pulled back completely to unbuckle his pants. “I don’t wanna push y—” 

“Daveed,” You said, before pausing quickly to put a hand on his scruff, tenderly moving your thumb to caress his cheek. “I’m absolutely sure about this. Now please, shut the hell up so I can blow you.”

You smirked when you saw his eyes widen and when you crawled off of him to go in between his legs, you heard a quiet, “Okay.”

Wasting no more time, you removed his jeans and boxers to free his erection. You could see Daveed’s chest begin to rise and fall quicker when you took his length into your hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of it.

“Oh, shiiit.” He drawled softly when your mouth wrapped around him, slowly sucking your way down as far as you could. As you began to bob your head up and down, Daveed’s breathing increased with each suck and occasional flick of your tongue.

Now, he was fully panting. He lifted his head up to look down at you, causing him to groan. After a minute or two, he brought a hand down to move some strands of hair out of your face.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he babbled, “I...I shouldn’t...oh God, I shouldn’t be this fucking close.”

You slowly pulled off of him and he brought you back up to kiss him again.

“You,” Daveed breathed against your lips, “are way too fucking good at that.”

You grinned.

“And,” he continued, “this clothing situation is a bit unbalanced, don’t you think?” 

His thumbs grazed the waistband of your sweatpants. When you nodded, you pulled them down along with your underwear. You moved off of him to take them off completely and remove your shirt and bra, leaving you just as bare as he was.

You climbed back on top of him, straddling his washboard abs, when he ushered you to move up. You obeyed, moving forward an inch or two, but Daveed shook his head and grabbed your thighs, moving you himself.

“Daveed, what are you doing?”

“Returning the favor.” He said simply, bringing you over to his face.

“Oh,” you breathed when you felt his tongue lightly touch your clit.

The man’s mouth worked miracles from between your thighs. Daveed kept you still above his skilled tongue, occasionally giving your ass a squeeze.

“D-Daveed,” you gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as his tongue lightly circled your clit before he brought fully into his mouth to suck gently.

This was the best head you’d gotten...well ever, actually. He wanted you to feel the best you’d ever felt and he definitely achieved that.

Before you knew it, you were reaching your high, climaxing as you shouted Daveed’s name, not caring how loud it echoed throughout your apartment. When you crawled back down Daveed’s body, the two of you shared a sloppy kiss as you both breathed heavily.

Although you just came, you weren’t completely satisfied. You still wanted him... needed to feel him inside you.

You moved to position yourself above his cock, but he made you pause before you could do so.

“Y/N, stop,” Daveed panted. “Condom.”

“Don’t need it.” You replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”

“Oh, fuck yes.” He replied, releasing you so you could resume what you were about to do.

You breathed out a laugh before you slowly sank down onto his length, making both you and him release a groan. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he gasped. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

Your fingers ghosted along his stubble-ridden jaw. “I think I have an idea.”

When you adjusted to his size, you began to bounce and he helped you, meeting each of your thrusts as he guided your hips onto him.

Your lips met Daveed’s yet again and you captured every moan that fell from his mouth, he did the same for you. As your pace quickened, so did each grunt, pant, and moan. You felt your pussy begin to clench again like it had when you came before.

“I’m gonna come,” Daveed said quickly against your mouth.

“Fuck.” You groaned. “Me too, D.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He breathed, bringing a hand up from your hip to cup your cheek. “You can do it.”

And you did.

Your walls clenched around him and you gasped, letting your orgasm wash over you in waves. Daveed came shortly after you, and continued to thrust, riding the both of you through your highs.

As you came down and pulled yourself off him, you collapsed, exhausted, halfway leaning on him and halfway laying on your couch. You moved a hand up to rest on his chest again, closing your eyes in bliss as you relaxed against him.

After a minute or two of silence, Daveed broke it.

“Wait, so...does this mean we’re friends again?” 

You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. He was still on that? Wow, what a dork. “After this? Everything that just happened?” You asked bewildered. “God, I hope not.”

“Fine,” he said letting his signature bright smile show up on his face, still breathing heavily. “More than friends?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you grinned widely back at him. You leaned up to softly kiss his jaw before you gave him your answer.

“Way more than just friends, D.”

#daveed diggs x reader #daveed x reader #hamilcast x reader #daveed diggs fanfiction #smut

[bvckleydiaz]

400 Follower Celebration 🍾

I’m finally getting around to do this post (hold for the applause 👏🏼 ) I’m currently at 423 ha. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say and what to post about this.. I mean it’s taken me almost a week to finish it. That being said, I think I’m going to take a page out of @burzekbrettsey’s book and share some of my favorite blogs who’ve helped me get to where I am and ones that you should be following too!

@kelly-severide: Nikki! Oh my sweet sunshine. I could go on and on for hours talking about her. You are the definition of a soulmate best friend. She’s been such a supportive person from the very beginning. She doesn’t believe it, but she’s an artist is every aspect of the word. The content she makes continues to blow me away every time something new gets put out. She’s legit one of my favorite people on this planet. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you🧡

@loveyourownsmiilee: Juju! Oh lord where do i even start. I swear you are my other half. She has the “oliver sense” that comes into play whenever Oliver posts something and deletes it. I mean she snatches those ig stories like it’s her job! We constantly talk about Oli and Ryan. Those are our boys and no one can say any different. She has one of the most positive blogs out there! She has such a bright, beautiful, and kind soul. I’m so glad we found each other 🤍

@burzekbrettsey: Sky! My bestie. We haven’t known each other for long, but I feel like it’s been ages! You are my favorite person to freak out with over Jay Halstead and his thigh holster. I mean that’s such a beautiful sight! Secondly, you are an AMAZING baker!! Have y’all seen the things she can make?!! When she opens her own bakery later in life I’m going to be her number one supporter! I have a feeling it’s always going to be you, nikki and I against the world. Forever homies 🧁

@matan4il: Alice! First off, if you aren’t following her, you are MISSING OUT! Her stories are everything! Since day one I’ve called her the smut queen and she has never disappointed. Her friendship is something I cherish so much in life. She’s the absolute sweetest. If I’m ever having a bad day, she somehow knows it, and helps talk me through it. I’m so grateful for you! ❤️

@fernnette: Fern! We go WAY back! You’ve seen me at my worst (aka the twitter fandom) and yet you still wanna be friends with me.. I don’t know why, but I’m grateful! I can’t even put into words how awesome you are. I’m so glad you made the discord when you did. I feel we’ve grown closer and we’ve made some amazing friends out of it. You are SUCH A TALENTED WRITER. I’m forever stuck on you and your writings. legit the first thing that comes to my mind when i think of you is #horny-jail. Also, as I’m typing this up you are in the discord writing your ass off and it’s v inspirational. like i wanna hop on over and write some. i can’t wait to see what’s coming up next from you 💛

@kenroczen: Jamie! My twin. Eddie Diaz simps unite! Although we get sad when we get someone new in the discord and we lose them to the evan buckley simps, Im glad we got each other! I love being able to talk all things ryan and eddie with you. Oh and don’t even get me started on the big bird gif! I die of laughter every single time someone is talking eddie/ryan with me and you come in out of nowhere. You are the best! ❣️

@doctornineandthreequarters: Jaime! My GGG buddy!! I never would’ve thought I’d bond with someone over buddie and that lead me to bonding over Guy’s Grocery Games. You’re writings are phenomenal! I don’t know how you do it, but you get those fics out so easily. You put so much into your fics and it shows! You’re such a talent! 🖤

@ineedapuppyandsomevodka: Mikayla! I truly didn’t think I’d ever find someone else who has the same inappropriate mindset like me, but here you are! You are relatable in every aspect. Your writings are some of my absolute favorite! Even the same drabbles have me weak. You’re so supportive of me in the discords and I hope I’m at least half as helpful as you are. I’m super grateful for you 💙

@buddie-buddie: Ella! First off, if you don’t know Ella, she’s the mastermind behind the White House AU universe!! She’s BRILLIANT! Whenever I see you in my notifications I can’t believe it. I’m sorry but this amazing writer and human being is in my notifs?!! What even? I know we’ve only become mutuals recently, but I’ve been following your writings since the beginning. I can’t tell you how excited I get when I see an email saying you updated. You are the absolute best! I hope we get to know each other more in the future! 💗

@sneetchestoo: You are so freaking supportive! I can always count on you to be in my notifications. You give me opinions, advice, and help me through hard time. You’re such a sweetheart 💚

@woodchoc-magnum: Felicity! We don’t get to interact very often, but let me tell you when you followed me?!! OH MY LORD I WENT OFF THE WALL. You are in my top 3 favorite writers of all time. You are such a glorious writer. Like all props to you my love! I swear I fangirl a tad bit whenever I see you in my notifs. Thank you for sharing your talents with us 🤎

and the honorable mentions: there’s so many others that I’m grateful for. I say it often, but i don’t know how I have this many followers! Thank you all for being so kind and supporting this, all over the place, blog 💝

@maygrant @trkstrnd @sixringss @siriuslyjamie @seik-o @shameless-aquarius @sometimesimfandomtrash @princessfbi @javachik @imaginebuck @captaincasey @gins-potter @thisissirius @hotchsbabygirl @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @blakestrand126 @selenaurrr @sunshinestrand @tkandbuck

Cheers 🥂

#400 followers #bvckleydiaz #mutuals