#but after more than 20 years the plastic on these is a little yellow

[jwnchstr]

dare you to doubt me pt. 1

title: dare you to doubt me (part 1)

pairings: you/zahara/zara x daniel ricciardo

summary: daniel got into an accident in 2020. he lost the ability to drive. he lost his seat. he lost his career as an f1 driver. ashamed, he hides himself. until he met you at australian grand prix in 2021.

disclaimer: i changed the actual timeline a little bit to match with my storyline.

other f1 fics | masterlists | my wattpad

dare you to doubt me pt. 2

dare you to doubt me pt. 3

*   *   *

i.

the australian grand prix has already started for 20 minutes and yet here you are, at the gate of the main grandstand waiting for the staff to check your ticket. it was not on purpose that you arrived late, but you had a nervous breakdown at the parking lot. you almost bailed the race. you almost drove back home until you heard a familiar voice saying "it's okay" that you hopped out of your car and headed straight towards the main grandstand gate.

    their v6 engines vibrate in your chest, rumbling like thunder as the drivers change a gear before a turn after a straight line. you hear the ferrari fans cheering as their favourite team and drivers woosh pass them. they raise the italian and the familiar red-yellow flag proudly even though some of them are not originally from there. the roars from other fans and supporters too give you goosebump.

    since it is now a ticket with free seating, you are left with no spare seat except the one at the very top of the bleacher, near a railing at the other end. you wonder why no one sits there, at first. then you see a man wearing black from head to toe sitting beside the empty seat. you don't feel comfortable with the thought of him there beside you, but there is another 40 minutes until the race ends and you are not going to watch them on feet.

    you had no choice but you slide inside, apologising to other spectators on the way. a relieved sigh escaps as soon as your bum finally hits the plastic seat. your feet finally finding a rest. you adjust your hat a little upward so that you can see the race from the big screen in front of you clearer. there are another 24 laps. the man beside you doesn't move at all.

    it can be boring watching the race from the main grandstand. it's a start and finish line. it's a straight line with barely any drama except an overtaking with the help of drs, but it can never be boring when your fiance was around. luke would always have something to talk about even without you asking. he would talk about f1 history over and over again and you're always there to listen. sometimes, people beside him would join. sometimes, they'd snark at luke to shut up. sometimes, they would try to appear smarter than him.

    you shifted in your seat. another heavy sigh escape your lips as you tried not to remember that very day when you got a phone call from the police, asking if you are luke's fiance. luke has set your number in his emergency contact list. by the sound of the police's voice, you know it was bad news. luke got involved in a car crash and he died on scene.

    going to watch the f1 race live once a year was luke's idea to celebrate your anniversary so here you are. even though you had a nervous breakdown at the parking lot 30 minutes ago, but you have to pat yourself kudos because that was easier than the last two. you didn't even enter back then even when you paid hundreds.

    there was a roar at turn four and the man beside you shifted in his seat. at the corner of your eye, it seems that he found a more comfortable position. he pushes himself lower into the seat, sitting on just above his back bone. his arms crossed on his chest. his hood falls on top of his nose, just above his face mask. you get that "don't talk to me" vibe coming from him, but when he pulls himself up, sleeve of his long-sleeved hoodie pulls too, you see a rose tattoo on his skin between his index finger and thumb.

    "nice tattoo," you blurt out. blood rush to your face already feeling embarrassed.

    the man quickly pulls his sleeve back down to hide his rose. the tension between you and the man in black is heavy that you can feel them in your head. not a lot of people like it when a stranger comments on their tattoo, but then again, it was not a bad one either. you are preared for a snarky remark. when that didn't come, you think it's fair that he ignored you, but what comes after makes your heart pumps faster.

    "thanks," he whispers.

    "uh... you're welcome... i guess."

    he doesn't say anything say anything else after that so whatever that you were rehearsing at the back of your mind for a few seconds that you thought will come, you shoo them away.

    you continue watching the race, keeping your eyes on the big screen, feeling your heart skips a beat every time a familiar silver car passes in front of you. you cannot see the number written on the car from your seat, but judging from the crowd who are wearing the dark blue polo t-shirt, you know it's car #44. luke's favourite driver. he could talk about hamilton for as long as the night drags and he would blame you for falling asleep.

    another sigh escape and this time, the man beside you chose not to ignore it.

    "would you stop sighing? it's annoying."

    you blink. "what?"

    "i said, stop sighing. it's annoying." he sounds familiar and bitter. "are you disappointed on your life or something? i'm pretty sure no one gives a damn about it."

    "it's nothing of your concern."

    "then maybe you should stop seeking attention."

    your forehead creased as you pull a face. "i am not seeking attention."

    "then don't sigh. people came here to watch the race, not to hear you sighing 24/7."

    angry, you didn't say anything anymore. instead, you keep your mouth shut before nothing good comes out of your mouth. you know you can be the nicest person on earth, but when there's a person who spoils your mood, you can be the meanest bitch.

    "so... which team are you on? is it the mercedes?"

    you specifically hate a person who doesn't feel guilty at all after making you hurt. now, you're the one who doesn't want to talk to anyone. you don't want to talk to him but you did give him a hint with the slight shrug on your shoulders.

    "it's not the mercedes? so it's red bull then?"

    "why people always assume that when you're not a mercedes fan, you're a red bull fan?"

    "because they're rivalries. you cannot like mercedes and red bull at the same time just like how you cannot be friends to your friends' enemy."

    you snort. "that's bullshit."

    "then i guess, you are the ferrari fan."

    "doesn't matter which team. my favourite driver is not racing."

    you can feel his eyebrows rising. "really?" there is a spark of curiosity behind his voice. "who is your favourite driver?" soon after that he quickly adds "if you don't mind me asking."

    "daniel ricciardo."

    "daniel ricc--" his breath catches in his throat. "he's a loser. there is no wonder than he doesn't get a seat this year. maybe not forever."

    "i still have faith in him."

    he doesn't sound like a daniel ricciardo fan, but you expect something more from him especially after what he claimed that ricciardo is. there must be reason why he thinks ricciardo is a loser when it was not his fault for that accident last season. and you wanted to ask him so many questions. you are about to open your mouth to ask one of them when he rises.

    "where are you going?" you find yourself asking. your eyes wild as you watch the man in black starts leaving the main grandstand. "there is another six laps to go. you can't leave."

    you know something is not right. maybe it's your question. maybe it's your answer. but maybe it was his own question that made him leave but either way, he got you curious. the race is finishing. charles leclerc from ferrari is leading. there is no doubt that he is going to finish first. plus, your favourite driver is not here. there is no one else to support so you start to leave too. you chase after the man in black even though you have no right to chase after a stranger.

    "hey, wait!"

    he hears you but doesn't listen to you.

    "wait! stop! hey!" you groan.

    you didn't know you've cooled down from the conversation with him just now at the grandstand. but now that he is ignoring you, you feel a heat rising again in your chest.

    his long legs makes his steps wider and harder to catch up.

    you hear yourself calling him for the third time. but when he still doesn't answer and doesn't want to cooperrate, you stop.

    fine, you thought, about to return to your seat and watch the race until the checkered flag when a memory flashes in front of your eyes.

    you were watching an f1 race on the television with luke when you see exact same tattoo on the man's hand. and it's not only that time when you see it but a lot of times that luke thinks it was nice and he almost got one himself. the familiar voice, though muffled behind the mask, you think you've heard it before during countless of interviews online. the trail of his nose outside the mask helps you connect the dot that he is indeed your favourite driver himself!

     something about emotion is amazing to you. it is amazing (also strange) how an anger you felt towards a stranger for ignoring you changes in a milisecond. once your head registers that it's ricciardo, your body gets excited. the blood that pumps in your body makes you run after him. you don't care that people are watching you. you don't care that you get their attention as long as you didn't lose him.

    by the time you stop right in front of him, you are breathing heavily while he stops abruptly, shocked to see you there. he wonders how you can find him because he thought he'd run far enough from you. he keeps his hands in his black sweatpants, doesn't want to make the same mistake again.

    between remembering what happen to him last season and meeting him in the present, you wonder if you're the lucky bitch to meet him first since after he went rogue.

    "i know who you are," you whisper.

    he pretends he doesn't understand you.

    "i know you don't want to be caught after what happened to you. hence, the black attire and the mask. but i know who you are."

    something in ricciardo (or daniel?) panics. he is on high alert. he looks around to see if there is anyone nearby who caught what you said. but most people (except those who rather have a smoke than watching the race) are still planted beside the track and watch the race. there is one more lap to go, you bet. and by the sound of the sudden loud cheers, you instantly know that the race has ended. the ferrari flag is raised higher.

    but the roar is also a good sign. you see daniel relaxes and sighs before he is on the toes again. as quick as lightning, he grabs your arm, pushes you towards the exit gate. the crowd will be wanting to leave the circuit soon and he doesn't want that.

    "please tell me you didn't tell anyone that you see me," he begs.

    "no. no. i didn't tell anyone, i promise."

    "you promised. tomorrow if i see--"

    "daniel, it's okay." you try to calm him down especially when you see him hypervalenting. "i didn't tell anyone that you're here. no one sees you. you're okay. you're fine. trust me. daniel, listen to me breathing."

    it is exactly what you had in your car at the parking lot few hours prior. you had nervous breakdown that you found it hard to breathe especially when the race had started. the engine gave "this" familiar yet dark memory even when it should be the best thing that ever happened in your life.

    "this is all your fault," daniel says when he's calmed.

    "me? why is it my fault?"

    "because you caused me a panic attack. i swear to god, if you weren't there and didn't find out i was here..."

    "if you don't want to be found out, why were you-- look, this isn't going to go anywhere. i'm sorry for what happened just now, okay. i didn't mean to cause you any trouble. i was just excited when i realised who you are."

    "argh, this is a mistake. i shouldn't come here today. i shouldn't--"

    "hey, hey. calm down. like i said, it's alright. no one knows you're here except me, i promise. now come on. let's get us something to eat. it's pass lunch already."

    daniel doesn't protest. you're a stranger, sure. he should not follow a stranger around and listen to a word you said, sure. but you helped him through his panic attack. you calmed him down. by this far, he is only following his instinct. if it says to trust you, then trust you it seems. and the next thing he knows, he is sitting in front of you in an expensive, private restaurant. his back facing the other tables. the jazz, the romantic yellow light and the cool air from the air-conditioner calms his mind.

    it takes you only a few minutes to skim through the menu and order your favourite meal from the restaurant, meanwhile daniel merely tells the waiter to have what you have. he refused to hold the menu himself. you notice how he keeps his whole arms under the table while yours are free to hold and turn the pages of the menu book.

    "you're rich."

    "and i see you speak the first thing that comes to your mind."

    "sorry." daniel smiles guiltily. "guess that's what happens when you have less communication with people lately."

    "nah, it's okay. if i remember it correctly, that's how daniel ricciardo is." you smile back at daniel, didn't want him feel more guilty. "anyway, i don't think you should think yourself as a loser." you tried to open up a serious conversation. well, what else would you do if your favourite f1 driver is right in front of you.

    "what?"

    "just now. at the race. you said daniel ricciardo is a loser."

    daniel clicks his tongue when he remembers it. "because that's what i am."

    "daniel, you are anything but a loser." your voice is soft and it is not because of the environment of the restaurant.

    "oh, yeah? tell me who said that."

    "everyone."

    "really?" daniel raises his eyebrows at you. "what if after you see this?"

    he brings his hands above the table. he opens his hands, fingers expands wide. there, you see what probably not everyone is lucky enough to see---his trembling hands, scars from the countless of surgeries to fix his broken fingers, charred and burnt skin. the rose is the only area that's not affected. and here you are thinking daniel was shy when he kept his hands under the table and you instantly felt bad. daniel retreats his hands back and hides them under the table before you can touch them.

    you look up at daniel. there are a lot of questions lingering around your mind at once that you find it hard to utter. which one to ask first? is it "how long were him in a coma?" but you knew that already. is it "what was the first thing that came into your mind when the car was rolling?" again, you know exactly the answer.

    "so you see, i get it now. i will never be an f1 driver after this anymore." you hear daniel says even though his eyes are on the empty ceramic plate in front of him.

    "have you tried asking them?"

    "asking?" daniel is digusted at your question. "i begged them. i kneeled in front of them to give me another chance in f1. the fia, renault team boss, f1. all of them. but they wouldn't let me because of health concern. and even worse, after last season, they changed the team's name. said that they don't want the old name to bring another bad luck. they even signed that fucking alonso to join them."

    "i don't get why they didn't want you back," you voice out your opinion. "i'm sure your doctor confimed it, right? that you can get back in the game after a few weeks. i mean, niki lauda took only 39 days to recover." and roman grosjoean took seven months to get back, was what you wanted to add but decided not to.

    "that's what i told them. and he was caught in a fire. i didn't. they fixed my broken bones. i undergone into therapy and finished them amazingly. seriously, even micheal said that."

    the same waiter comes back with your drinks. when he's done serving yours, he strides away to attend other tables before coming back a few minutes after that with your lunch. he puts one meal in front of you before doing the same with daniel. you smile and thank the waiter even though you probably do not have to do that. the waiter smile back at you before he disappears once again.

    you breathe in the smell of the pasta deeply. after what happened at the circuit, it feels like forever since you last had your meal. "bon apetite."

    the man in front of you slowly reaches the spoon and fork on the either side of his plates. the same spoon and fork that are light to your normal hands look heavy on daniel's. you carefully watch as daniel dips his fork into the pasta, curl them. you watch as he carefully brings them into his mouth with a vigurous shake but the fork slips from his hand. the pasta spills onto his shirt and jeans. the fork clutters down to the gound. the clinging sound of the steel causes the employees and other customers to turn their heads.

    you hear daniel groan. but really, it rather sounds like a mixture of annoyance, anger and shame. he bends down to grab the fork that he dropped. but stops when your hand reaches for his other hand on the table. he watches you calling for the same waiter to bring daniel another clean fork. though the waiter looks annoyed, but as you give him your best smile, he nods and obediently brings a new fork.

    daniel comments something on what you did. and he said something about not to do that again for him because he can do it himself even though both of you know that he can't. and you hardly hear him ranting about his life after the accident because in your ear, you are hearing luke's voice saying "you have the prettiest smile i've ever seen." your heart rate speeds up. it has been three years and you can still remember how his voice sounds like.

    both of you eat in silent. daniel is taking his time with his pasta, curling them slowly around his fork with his trembling hands. when you are finished with your pasta way too fast (because you're hungry) you order a desert even though you rarely do that because you don't want daniel to feel pressured. and add one more even though you're already full.

    your patience makes daniel feels like he owes you big time that he pays for your meals at the counter. "please don't tell anyone that i paid our lunch. don't tell anyone that this is a date. i'm not dating anyone. i'm not even in a position to be loved--"

    you laugh at him. "i got it, daniel. but okay. if it makes you feel at ease... i promise i won't tell anyone about today." you sort of make a pledge. "and you have to promise me that you will go out and meet people again."

    "what?" daniel throws his head back laughing hard at your condition. "you do know what happen to me when i meet people, right."

    the image of daniel having a panic attack flashes in front of your eyes.

    "look, thank you for bringing me here. i had a geat lunch. they have nice pasta. but don't look for me anywhere anymore. good-bye."

    "wait!" you stop daniel when he's about to turn and leave again.

    "what again?" daniel sounds annoyed.

    "you haven't promised me to meet people again yet."

    "do i have to?"

    "yes!" you beam. "people miss you a lot, daniel ricciardo. they miss you as much as they miss michael schumacher."

    "i think you're living in your own world, miss."

    "well, i work with people from the media and paparazzi myself so i know it's not that hard to tell them that daniel ricciardo is at australian gp. i'm sure some people have your pictures at the circuit. maybe they just couldn't confirm it."

    "you know, what. fine," daniel finally says though he knows that doesn't mean he has to keep that promise... right? he knows you are no longer with him once you part with him after this so how would you know that he's going out and meeting people?

    "or... wait, i might have a better suggestion."

    the invisible dance he had in him stops as soon as when you said "wait."

    "how about you be a coach?"

    "to whom?"

    "my fi-- adam."

    "adam?"

    "i know a kid. adam. he is a go-kart driver at our local go-kart circuit. he's still young. four. but i know that he has a potential. maybe not yet as an f1 driver. he's still a long way to go, but... c'mon. tell me you're game."

    "and who's going to pay me?"

    "you think i'm offering you a job?"

    daniel raises his eyebrows.

    "well, if you need that money so bad... i will pay you."

    "you?" daniel snorts. "you can't afford me."

    "funny. because looking at you right now? low motivation. love self-esteem. patience as thin as a thread. lost. your rate could be as low as 2% cut from my salary."

    daniel put his hand on his heart. "ouch. that hurts."

    "so. you game?"

*

when you come to pick daniel up from the melbourne park, he was not alone. it seems that daniel is smarter that he looks because he brings one of the person that he trusts the most and that is michael italiano. you know him as daniel's performance coach, someone who was responsible for all his physical trainings but now that he is here with him with you, you can see that michael is much more important to daniel than you think.

    after a brief  greeting, the car is silent for a few minutes. the only noise comes from the music that you put on until michael tells daniel to look at something to their left.

    daniel doesn't stop talking with michael around. it makes your head hurts. your brain is pounding every time his voice hits your eardurm. maybe it's your perk but you'd rather drive in silence. but some part of you are grateful for his extrovertness because he makes the journey less awkward than it originally is. though through the rear-view mirror, you catch a glimpse of michael shaking his head at daniel's silliness. you bet he's used to it.

    the familiar narrow road finally makes its appearance after 45 minutes of drive. you turn off the air-cond off and roll down your window, letting the fresh breeze of the outskirts hits your skin. and you smile. it's only yesterday that you were here yet you missed this place as if you haven't visited it for a long time. wanting to see if you're not feeling this alone, you glance at the person right next to you.

    "wow!" you hear, not only one, but two men mutter.

    "it's pretty isn't it?"

    "yeah," both of them answer you at the same time. again.

    you glance at the rear-view mirror again. the reaction michael has on his face is almost identical to daniel's. it looks as if they're twins instead of friends. you laugh at both of them. you remember luke had a twin even though not his identical twin. adam has adopted many of luke's facial expression and personalities even though he was barely one year old at the time.

    the canopy trees finally welcome you as you enter the main entrance of the go-kart circuit. the sound of motor engine that came from the right side of the circuit tells you that the race already started. but it's still early. maybe they're only three laps in. you slow down your car as you drive straight until the grand building comes into view. there are already a lot of cars at the public parking spaces. finally, you pull your car at a space where it is reserved for "zahara hugh."

    "come on, boys. we have a race to watch," you say as you gather your belongings.

    both michael and daniel are looking at you in surprise. mouths agape.

    "what?"

    "you have your own parking space? reserved for you?" daniel asks.

    "yeah, well. the family who owns this place knows me so."

    "the family who owns this place knows you?" for some reason, it doesn't sound correct to daniel's ears. daniel looks around to find your name that was written on the tarmac. "who are you, zahara hugh?"

    "zahara hugh? that's your name? you're the zahara hugh?" michael's eyes bulge out of its sockets. "oh my god, i can't believe it! miss hugh, i'm a big fan of your work! your writing. your book. they're-- they're amazing!"

    you spontenously take michael's offering hand. it's the second handshake. while the first one was firm and 'made for business' but this one feels funny. but a good kind of funny. like business michael is replaced with a fan michael. the fan michael is more outgoing and fun. you almost feel like he is your friend.

    "wait, wait, wait. what? who is she?"

    "the writer of my favourite book," michael answers proudly and excitedly, letting go of your hand that you quickly retract. "remember the one that i made you read during the winter break? and you said that it makes your feelings haywire but a good kind of haywire. yeah. that's her. that's she."

    "oh... wow..."

    "so if you're zahara hugh--"

    "please just call me zahara."

    "so if you're zahara and you said that the family who owns this place knows you. and that you were once engaged to luke hampshire who died in a car crash and who had a go-kart circuit... that means that this is the hampshire go-kart circuit."

    "bingo," you say.

    michael is overjoyed. like a boy who sees his favourite playground, he hops out of you car and practically runs towards the front entrance of hampshire go-kart circuit. luke was the official owner of the building. his love for f1 didn't stop at his knowledge and the tv screen. he was willing to do anything to make himself close to f1 so he invested his own money to build a go-kart circuit. but after he died, the building is taken over by his family and his cousins.

    you watch as michael disappear into the main building before your eyes snap at daniel's. "what?"

    "why didn't you tell me that you had a fiance?"

    "i don't remember you asked."

    "and he died in a car crash?"

    "it was three years ago, daniel. i've moved on."

    no. you haven't. you haven't moved on from it. not a single step forward. you still remember him in every way possible even though three years has passed. but what you had luke wasn't just a relationship. there were more than just that.

    "that time when you helped me calm down from my panic attack. you experienced that too, didn't you?"

    you nervously laugh at daniel. you heard it everywhere. that people say mental health is important, but no matter how important they make it sound, you never felt comfortable sharing it out loud especially not to a person whom you just met.

    you didn't let daniel ask you any more questions regarding your life so you hop out of the car and walk straight towards the stairs, into the main entrance of the circuit, into the main building. there are already people there, enjoying the race from the air-cond cool breeze. if this wasn't a kid's game, you're sure that there were champagne in their hands. daniel follows you until both of you are back outdoor, standing just outside the track. a stack of tyres up to daniel's waist separated the audience and the track.

    "tell me. which one is adam?"

    it doesn't take you long to recognise which one is luke's nephew even though from afar, these kids look the same. "the one in black helmet with purple stripes."

    "is that hamilton's inspired helmet?"

    adam was only two when luke bought that helmet for him. but the helmet luke bought was too big for adam's two-year-old head so his mother kept it somewhere safe until adam is big enough to fit.

    "and he's at the back?"

    "ever since luke died adam has been struggling to drive."

    "what?"

    you didn't understand what daniel was so confused about because you forgot that it was michael who knew about you and luke hampshire. but once you realise that, you brought daniel elsewhere. somewhere quieter. a place where there are less people to hear a conversation about your family. you cannot risk anyone at the side of the track to hear it. one of them could be your rival.

    you bought two bottles of sprite before you ended up bringing daniel to adam's garage. this little garage where you first met luke years ago. you barely remember which year because everytime you spend the time with luke it feels like forever. you grab two plastic chairs from inside of the garage and set both of them just outside of the garage. here, you can see the race more clearly.

    for some reason, the smell of burning tyres is even sharper from the outside than the inside. and, instead of coughing like what you did, daniel breathes in deeply as if he misses it so much. and you hated the smell of oil when you first came here but you get used to it now. after almost a year, you would think daniel doesn't like the smell of oil and gas, but to your surprise, daniel doesn't look bothered at all. if anything, he looks more relaxed.

    "when adam first got involved in go-kart he was only two years old. luke was always there with him. inside. outside. in the garage. and being two, he learns everything fast. he was very good at karting. seriously. he awed a lot of team managers until eventually one of them signed adam to an academy."

    "at two?"

    "yeap. at two. trust me, i didn't even believe that either. we thought adam was too young but luke makes everything real and easy. until he died later that year where everything changed. adam didn't understand, but we know he missed his uncle so much. that's the reason why he's been performing badly. at first, we thought it's only for a few days or maybe weeks but--"

    "it has been going on for three years..." daniel finishes my sentences. "have you tried to talk to him?"

    "i did everything. just like what you did to get yourself back into f1." you feel daniel tenses, but you choose to ignore it and continue with adam's story. "his family and i even brought him to a vacation. his coach suggested that."

    "did it work?" daniel struggles to take a sip of his sprite, but he manages well.

    "for a few races, yeah. until he understands that luke will not come back and he lost every strength in him. sometimes, we think adam does this only for luke, but we don't know for sure. he might love go-kart personally, but maybe it's difficult without the person you trust the most with you."

    daniel takes another sip of his sprite as he watches the race unfolds in front of him.

    you are back inside the main building, came to meet luke's family who are talking amongst other parents and other guests and visitors who came for fun. the hampshire go-kart circuit is not a private circuit, neither it is a public one. not many people knew the existance of the hgc, but those who came are welcome to mingle to anyone they'd like.

    when adam finishes his race, he quickly rushes out of his car. he doesn't care that he finished last. he takes off his helmet later when he runs out of the track then into the building, searching for you. daniel and michael were reunited somewhere after you excused yourself to meet adam's family. when adam finally found you, hugging your thigh with sweats still running down his forehead, both of the men are there to witness it.

    everyone else are smiling as they watch a kid giggling and hugging an adult's thigh. but daniel's heart warms with the scene. there is a small smile at the end of his lips that he didn't notice he does that himself. it seems that daniel has been watching you and adam playing around for too long that michael nudges daniel's rib to get his attention.

    "you're drooling, man."

    daniel quickly wipes the side of his mouth but confused when his finds out that his hand is dry. "you cunt!"

    and that is one of the reasons why daniel doesn't want to go out yet. it looks like everywhere he goes, he will always attract attention even when he didn't mean to. but out of the things that got people turning heads towards him, why must when he's cursing at his best friend in a place that is full of kids?

    daniel is lost for words. but he particularly more ashamed of himself when he notices that you are looking at him. you have a smile on your face. it looks like you just had a joke with adam or something. and adam is on your hips. your arms around adam's back, holding him so he won't fall. daniel doesn't know where did the image of you holding his (his and yours) kid come from.

    "come on. i want you to meet someone," you tell adam.

*

the meeting with adam was fun. all of you--you, daniel, michael--enjoyed it. what's more surprising is that adam enjoyed it. and you haven't told him that it's daniel ricciardo, one of the f1 drivers. although it weird to see adam having a good time, but you wouldn't ask for anything else if it takes an f1 driver and his coach to make adam smiling again.

    "thank you for today," you thank daniel after michael left your car.

    "no. thank you." daniel smiles. and it doesn't take a psychologist to see that it's a genuine, honest smile. "i had fun today. thanks. again."

    "it feels like forever since we genuinely had fun, isn't it?" you laugh when you remember the struggle daniel is facing and the one that you're facing. both of you might have different reasons to your grieves, but the main core is still the same.

    "but just to be sure, please don't--"

    "the guests at the hgc just now were a bit special today. most of them are invited personally by me. and to be sure that your existance are not to be spoken by anyone out of the circuit and after today, i made them sign an agreement."

    "you really did that?"

    you nod your head. "so don't worry about it, okay? i know what it feels like. and if you still haven't figured out what i do for a living. yes, i'm a writer. not many people know, but it still can get overwhelming when people recognise me in public. and yes, i get some 'i'm sorry your fiance died'. still affects me though."

    "i'm sorry."

    "yeah, it's three--"

    "you cannot lie to me. your face tells me everything i want to know. you haven't moved on. it still affects you. and i'm going to be adam's coach."

    hearing that, your eyes open wide. your jaws hung low. you almost could not believe what you're hearing. "are you serious? you want to be adam's coach? seriously? oh my god-- wait, you're not doing this because you feel bad towards adam, are you?"

    daniel laughs at your reaction. "it's not because of that. no. i do it because i think you're right. that it's time for me face my fears. go out. though rules still apply, but maybe this is a start."

    "oh! thank you much, daniel! thank you! thank you! thank you!" you hug daniel tightly. the tremble on daniel's body is mild but you can still feel them especially when it is pressed tightly against your body.

    daniel tenses. he doesn't move his arms around your torso to hug your back. and that's when you realise what you have done. you're probably the first person he lets himself acquinted with after months in hiding. and you hugging him like he is your long-time friend, breaching his personal space, definitely doesn't help it.

    you quickly pull back. "sorry."

    both of you ended up exchanging phone numbers so that it will be easier for you text daniel adam's karting schedule. though daniel makes it clear that he won't be around all the time and that adam's schedule might need to change so that both of them can make it. either way, you're excited to see adam and daniel working together. and you already see the success daniel brings to the team.

*   *   *

part ii.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciado x you #honey badger #f1 fanfiction #mental health

[slayernina]

iZombie Pilot differences

(Well, the 2nd draft at least XD) 

https://www.scriptslug.com/script/izombie-101-pilot-2015

Just random things that caught my attention:

Olivia “Liv” Moore (27). Rose has the same age as her character while filming season 1.

She’s transitioned from bright, blonde. I wonder why they put Rose McIver natural blonde into a brunette. More contrast with the transition? Ironically, her “human” costume has Rose with her natural hair.

Clive Babinaux (30). Malcolm was 33 while filming.

Think Shaft as channelled through Jordan Peele. He's that rare combination of self-aware and super-fly. Cleavon Little in BLAZING SADDLES. I don’t get these references since I didn’t watch any of this movies, but Clive was much more serious and focused in “our” pilot.

Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti (40s). Wow, Ravi was way older than our Ravi. Rahul was 30 while filming. Thankfully we didn’t have another Hollywoodesque 10 years gap with any of the potential love interests (at this point, on paper Liv or Peyton). Also, since Rahul isn’t into “brown characters casting calls” and the age, I wonder if Ravi was the original name or if they changed the name and background after hiring the actor.

Think Simon Pegg’s “Scotty” in the Star Trek movies. A high energy, enthusiastic nerd, who has a brilliant mind that isn’t equipped with a filter or an off switch. He has an endearing lack of interpersonal skills and a genuine enthusiasm for unknown and unexplained. Conspiracy theories and unsolved mysteries are his porn. I’m glad we didn’t get another Sheldon or House.

Major Lilywhite (28). Robert Buckley was 34 while filming. A bit older than Liv but better than most of media. (Yes. I fucking hate late 30s/40s actors banging twentysomethings, specially since actresses are pretty fucked up when they turn 30).

A former University of Washington strong safety turned environmental engineer. The social worker turned Lord Commander was cooler.

Peyton Charles (26). Aly Michalka was 26 while filming.

They shared a love of lists and plans and predominately socialized while burning calories. Fuuuuuuuuck that. I wouldn’t handle another pretty best friend playing fatshaming into the audience. The deconstruction of using gorgeous Aly instead of “the chick” as the more stable, serious brain of the pair for me was refreshing. Even when she was “the damsel in distress” she was because she was overpowered by far.

That’s why seeing her daughter turn from ambitious super-achiever into zombiefied couch potato. Sorry. I laughed so hard with “zombified couch potato”. I think I’m going to make this my personal motto.

Evan Moore (16). Liv’s 16-year-old brother wants to be the next Dylan which is tough when your mom expects you to be the next Elon Musk. What. I didn’t expect this.

He’s a bit ashamed that he may like his sister Liv a bit better now that she’s changed into this new version that doesn’t remind himself so much of his mother. Screaming into the void forever for all the potential wasted in the Moore family that we never got.

Blaine DeBeers (28). David Ander was 34 while filming.

He’s the wussy, polo shirt with the collar up, selfimportant jerk who makes the jump from run of the mill spoiled asshole to completely evil crime lord. Probably David gives too much of evil lord or dangerous sociopath since the beginning to make him be a frat boy. I mean, the yellow plastic jacket was too much but a polo shirt? What a disgrace.

EXT. LAKE WASHINGTON, SEATTLE - NIGHT CAMERA FLIES ACROSS THE SURFACE OF LAKE WASHINGTON toward a dozen party boats tied together in such a way that people can just step from one boat to the next -- Lake Havasu-style. Wow, that looked so cool. I suppose we didn’t get it for budget reasons. Also no Marcy/Major introductory scene.

SLOW MOTION SHOT of Liv running straight at camera trying to cross the 20 feet that mean a chance at survival, a look of determination on her face. Pilot Liv was braver than Our Liv. And also snarkier.

REVEAL LIV, still hot, but now shockingly pale with nearly white hair. Still hot? Ugh.

Peyton leads her to an EMPTY CHAIR across from where the rest of them are sitting, then takes her seat with the group. The intervention was heavier. Liv’s inner dialogue also changes a bit more during the full original pilot.

DR. RAVI CHAKRABARTI (30s, nebbish, high-energy.). The age change here again. A mistake?

She turns to find BLAINE (late 20s, entitled, wearing a “Hugs Not Drugs” shirt.) He leans in close, his mouth by her ear, pulls plastic vials from his pocket. Blaine “no personal space” DeBeers XD

Liv throws her beer in his face. Blaine takes a menacing step toward Liv when he is tackled by a zombie. Liv shrieks, looks up, and sees the rolling zombie outbreak coming at her. This Blaine is more aggressive and his zombie origin story is different.

We return to the moment of Liv hiding under the boat railing surrounded by zombie chaos. Hid under a boat railing instead a table. I suppose budget again.

The last person she sees is BLAINE who is now a zombie. He’s left a bloody scratch down her arm. Liv wrenches free, but in doing so, bangs her head against the side of the boat and slips into the water. Different than rolling backwards to the water.

Suddenly, the blackness rips open revealing the NIGHT SKY and FLASHING RED LIGHTS. She wakes up in the night instead of the day.

Liv finishes up her story. LIV So, I hung out a while, chatted with the EMT. Made sure he had the correct spelling of my name. (off Ravi’s stare) I’m kidding. I took off. Pilot Liv craked a joke instead of “The EMT was too upset about having accidentally bagged a “living” girl to ponder any other possibilities”.

RAVI So you feel normal after you feed? LIV (smirks) Feed? -- like an animal? RAVI Sorry -- poor word choice. LIV No worries. It’s probably accurate. Truth is... I never feel normal. I don’t think I’ve slept in five months... And trust me, zombie-ism has its side effects. RAVI The Tabasco? LIV Pretty much the only way I can taste anything is if it would have at least six chili peppers next to it on a menu. The Liv-Ravi conversation was different and longer.

As Liv passes the open door of Peyton’s room, she spots a SORORITY MUG FULL OF PENS on a nearby bookshelf. She grabs the pens and continues towards the kitchen. (NOTE: This is the first of several beats of Liv impulsively swiping random objects. We’re not sure why but it will become clear later.). In our pilot Peyton asked where the pens were, here we can see how she steals them.

Too long to put in here, but there’s a full Lillymoore scene deleted in which Liv gets a bit jealous, rambles about a true love relationship and sex with a zombie, another in which the vision is different and another with Liv with concerned Evan scene deleted.

KTAU news. With Roxanna Bull. Tom Vasquez. Bill Sylvester with sports and Johnny Raines with weather. Johnny Frost was Johnny Raines and worked in channel 7 instead of 11.

Ravi and Liv sit at Clive’s desk. Ravi taps away on his phone (...). Ravi was with Liv initially at Clive’s desk scene and during Johnny’s scene. Also the conversation was way longer.

Tatiana was called Paulina Wojcinski and was Polish instead of Romanian.

Some not related with the case dialogue between Liv and Clive reaching to Paulina’s apartment has been cut.

Liv turns to him, her face ashen. This is the moment she loses her Winona Ryder dour/cool/bored affect. Interesting comparison lol

Liv, looking shell-shocked, waits nearby as Clive pounds on the door to Tess’ apartment. Soul-patched neighbour Truman opens his door in a huff.

TRUMAN She’s gone. Whatever you told her, it sent her running. It’s her body, you know. Only a patriarchal society would prevent women from monetizing their own—

CLIVE Did she say where she was going? The scene with the guy was shorter.

Liv steals a wooden apple instead of eyes. There’s two cut scenes, one with Clive, another with Eva. Clive and Eva meet. Also the scene at Paulina’s apartment is translated partially to a hotel room, with a vision involving Paulina and Tess. Another scene is added involving another apartment. Another scene involving the bad guy and Clive is cut too.

Peyton exits. Liv is thrown by Peyton’s show of emotion. She looks over the stolen loot, her slovenly attire, her Cheetostained fingers as she processes Peyton’s speech. LIV - Pathetic. Liv’s awakening is different.

The scene with Johnny is shorter, another scene with Pratt was cut.

The scene with Pratt and the girls was way shorter. There are several scenes of Clive running after Pratt and Liv and Clive interacting with the girls that were cut. Liv almost eats Pratt.

A scene in which Liv gets her zombie makeup applied and wanders through the haunted mansion is cut. Most of the conversation with Major and Peyton is cut.

What are your opinions on this?

My other metas here

La maldición de las cuatro brujas here

Una novela romántica de esas con un macizorro sin camiseta en la portada here

Un romanzo rosa di quelli con un fusto a petto nudo in copertina here

Buy me a ko-fi!

#izombie #izombie pilot #writing #escritura #slayernina writes stuff

[hugsandchaos]

Cosmic Circus

Chapter 1

“Y/n... Y/n...” Oliver shook Y/n over and over again, repeating their name over and over. After a few seconds, Y/n opened their eyes a bit and looked out the window. It was still dark, but they could tell the sun was going to start rising soon. Probably in the next 5 to 20 minutes. To be a bit more detailed, the few stars they could barley see in the city had already left the sky and Y/n could see the dark, yet slightly illuminated blue color they’ve seen whenever they woke up before sunrise. They could barley see the other city buildings, yet it was also easy to differentiate them from the sky since the lights were still on. It was just that Y/n eyes were adjusting and could barley see past the city lights.

Their bed was placed next to the window that was used as a fire escape. If someone were to be looking at the room from the doorway, they’d see a bed on the opposite side of the wall with the head of the frame against the left wall, and a pretty big window that would shine into the room during sunrise. That’s how Y/n likes to wake up, or just by themselves. They can just go back to sleep if they wanted. Actually, more like if they had time. There’s a few drawers inside the right walls that they use for their clothes. Turning to their younger cousin who spent the night with them, Y/n rubbed their eyes one at a time and spoke with a dry throat.”Yeah? Do you need something?” They asked. Oliver held up a plastic cup of water to help with their dry throat. He’s spent enough time at their apartment to know how they wake up with a dry throat. Y/n have him a tired smiled and carefully picked up the cup.”Thank you.” They said. They sat up and drank the water as their little cousin spoke.”You promised we’d go to the circus today. I already have an energy drink right here for you.” He said. Y/n suddenly remembered last night. They had indeed promised that they’d take him to the festival, specifically the circus while they were building a roller coaster in Minecraft.

Y/n finished the water and hopped off their bed, still in their tank top and long pajama pants.”Alright, but let’s get cleaned up real quick and get breakfast.” They said, patting Oliver on the head. They then noticed his hair was kind of wet and ruffled it, trying to figure out what could’ve happened. Noticing one of the towels from their shelf was gone, they quickly figured it out.”You already got a bath, didn’t you? Nice job.” They said. Oliver smiled and handed them the energy drink, which they gladly took. Y/n bent their knees to hug them and patted his back. They should’ve noticed earlier that Oliver was indeed not in his Minecraft pajamas, but wearing a pair of blue jean overalls and a yellow shirt underneath the straps.”You look great.” Y/n said. Oliver smiled and hugged back. His little energy felt very excited and loving, a feeling Y/N’s almost jealous of how often he experiences it. They see it ain him almost all the time, like a sweet light. They remember when they were younger than him, and the family was no better than the way they are now.

They were only 5 when their parents stopped paying attention unless it was to berate them. They were only 5 when they started having to do the chores while their alcoholic mother and neglectful father did whatever they wanted, including cheating on one another. Y/n was in middle school when they started their part-time job and had to pay rent in a house they weren’t legally allowed to move out. As soon as they were, their parents kicked them out and they gladly took off faster than ever before. Years later, Y/n is living a nice life in a cozy apartment complex and babysitting their new little cousin. Well, more like taking care of them, but they were relieved that they got the chance to help him save some of his innocent happiness if not all. They separated the hug and put a hand on his shoulder.”I’ll get a shower and then we’ll eat breakfast. After that, we’ll head to the circus.” They said. Oliver smiled and ran to the next room, a mix of a kitchen and living room with a pretty normal sized TV. Oliver sat on the couch and watched Y/n walk past him after grabbing a towel and set of clothes. Y/n stuck their tongue out in a silly manner as soon as they opened the bathroom door before running in and shutting it.

They heard Oliver giggle on the other side, they’re sure they’re going to get shot by a nerf gun or hit by one of the toy lightsabers. Y/n didn’t like referring to them as toys since the effort put into them was much more than the ones at Walmart or something, so maybe fake is a better term despite its effects being way more realistic than some think. Y/n got undressed and hopped into the shower quickly.

About 30 minutes later, they came out of the shower in some of their regular clothes. Their shirt had a few planets on it and said “Give me some SPACE” and their pants were a bit baggy, but it was clean and comfortable, and they decided to put on some hiking boots since they feel nicer to walk around in, and they knew they’d be doing a lot of that. Y/n had managed to spend only 25 minutes in the shower and the last 5 minutes were spent with their little cousin standing with them while they blow dried their hair, rambling about how excited they were and how they want to do the circus first. There was a point where Y/n turned the blow drier off just turn turn it back on while it’s pointed at him using the lowest heat setting and highest blow setting. Y/n laughed with their little cousin before going back to finishing up their hair. As soon as they were done, Y/n grabbed their energy drink, a quick sandwich, their phone, wallet, and keys.”Alright, let’s go.” They said. Oliver smiled and ran to the door, already waiting on them. They giggled at this and opened the door, both of them ready to go now. Y/n ate their sandwich as they walked down the hall of the apartment while their cousin was bouncing with excitement.

Once they were in the car, Y/n had finished their sandwich and put in Google Maps to the area where the festival was going to be this month. It was pretty far out there, but if it means seeing the biggest smile on their little cousin, it was going to be worth it. Y/n turned their head and saw Oliver buckled in his booster seat, the kind that didn’t have back part and is often used for elementary schoolers.”Are you ready?” Y/n asked. Oliver nodded and moved his arms up and down in front of him with his hands in closed fists.”I’m so excited!” He exclaimed. Y/n smiled and turned on the engine.”I’m very glad to hear that. Let’s get going.” They said. They pulled out of the parking lot and started on their way to the festival.

#au #circus au #moon and sun au x y/n #sun and moon au #fnaf fanfic #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #circus show #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #hugsandchaos #trapeze #cosmic circus #chapter 1

[dustedmagazine]

Overmono — Good Lies (XL)

On a more objective, scientific, world-perpetuating level, you can of course understand why pollen is good: Insects and birds and animals take it and transport it and pollinate other flowers or eat it for sustenance and maintain the delicate balance that is our circle of life. You also know it can directly benefit you via dietary supplements and medicines for everything from PMS to an enlarged prostate. But on a more immediate, visceral, emotional level: It’s not good when it’s everywhere, infesting your clothes, wrecking your allergies, blanketing you and turning the world to a hazardous haze of yellow. It’s irritating, in fact.

Overmono’s debut album Good Lies is pollen. I don’t just mean that figuratively; “Cold Blooded” literally appears on Spotify’s Pollen playlist, an anodyne compilation of assorted tracks that fit a certain history-washing aesthetic and work great functionally as Urban Outfitters background music fit to pass any 20-something’s vibe check. But even without the playlist, you can see the parallel, hear the connection, feel the album title’s perfection in your gut: This is a record that promises so much but delivers, upon repeated listens, so little as to be a strangely vacant experience.

It’s not like you couldn’t see it coming if you were paying any attention, though. Russell brothers Ed (aka Tessela) and Tom (Truss) have been veering steadily away from their engaging, more demanding early productions on crucial labels like Perc Trax, Poly Kicks, R&S and Whities (now AD 93) toward a kind of hands-aloft big room festival sound that’s been smoothed over and played out live to the point that they only need hit the button that plays Tirzah’s vocal from “Gladly” over the “Is U” beat to get crowds going wild. From personal experience, I can tell you a big room goes off when the drop in “So U Kno” happens. People lose their minds. It should feel monumental, and there’s no shortage of people out there that’ll be only too happy to tell you how transcendent it feels.

That it doesn’t isn’t strictly a problem with yours truly reporting from the field; it’s also indicative of the listening experience Good Lies presents, which feels like a less creatively ambitious, more sonically conservative rendition of Water the Planets. That concise 25-minute mix from late 2016, when the duo was still trying to figure their big room sound out, remains one of the best arguments for why Overmono was so great for years: You’d get a stretch of rhythms that had you invariably nodding your head along to gently evolving and mutating melodies that could get stuck in your head for days after the fact. Think of the muscular “Powder Dry” or the Nintendo pop of “Catapult” or the song that made me a believer, the simple and soaring “U-Plastics.”

Little such surprises exist here, and that’s not because followers of the group had already heard half the tracks present before the full-length appeared. Even St. Panther, the only official collaborator on the album, has her vocals pitched into a homogenous blur at a deliberate emotional remove, submerged behind percolating synths and carefully programmed percussion. From Slowthai to Smerz to Miraa May to Kelly Erez to Casisdead, the template of “evocative” vocal snippets floating disconnectedly above the music is established immediately, a death grip maintained that suffocates out the creative spark that could’ve been here instead. Of that gaggle of tracks, “Calling Out” does the best in a vacuum, a massive track that stands out even in the context of the album and one that’d be immediately noticeable in any DJ’s set.

Only “Vermonly” really feels like it breaks free from the shackles of the established template here. A drumless drift late in the tracklist that feels like a breath of fresh air for its reliance on the army of synths Overmono relies upon rather than the cheap gesture of yet another sampled vocal feels novel in context. It’s a brief moment of respite from the relentless yet strangely underwhelming monotony of the rest of the record. Naturally, first-week sales were through the roof and it’s evident the group has never been bigger; that such success should happen to these guys is ultimately good, probably, but that it should happen via a record so devoid of personality it automatically assumes the role of background music isn’t. It’s irritating, in fact.

#overmono #good lies #xl #patrick masterson #albumreview #dusted magazine #pollen #bromley

[mccarthyflood80]

hermes mini kelly 18

Kelly Vs Birkin We’re no stranger to the splendid confines of Kylie Jenner’s luxury designer-filled purse closet containing uncommon items from labels like Chanel, Fendi, and Balenciaga. Talking concerning the rarer styles… In addition to multiple sizes of the Kelly bag, Hermes carries on to provide limited version versions of the type yr after yr. The most desired limited version Kelly, is without a doubt, the Himalaya Kelly. The bag is manufactured from the pores and skin of the Nilo crocodile, rendered in a subtle coloration that resembles the pictures of the magnificent Himalayan mountains. Initially founded as a saddlery and equestrian items maker over one hundred eighty years ago, Hermes has developed into a fully-fledged luxury powerhouse. Continuing to take care of its heritage, practically the entire designer’s present day objects function a delicate equestrian nod in a method or another. This authentic Hermès Special Edition 20 cm Epsom Mini Kelly is in pristine unworn situation with the protecting plastic intact on the hardware, 2021 assortment. Mightychic provides a guaranteed authentic Hermes Kelly 20 Mini Sellier bag featured in wheat coloured Foin yellow. Mightychic offers a guaranteed genuine Hermes Kelly 20 Mini Sellier bag featured in beautiful Blue Brume. wikipedia handbags Mightychic provides a assured authentic Hermes Kelly HSS 20 Mini Sellier bag featured in coveted Craie and Blue Indigo. As somebody whose daily bag is 25 cm, the Mini Kelly seems exponentially smaller. I’ve seen people use this for journey and once more, that’s fantastic if you’re just carrying your cellphone, cash and room card. mini kelly bag The weight of what is contained in the bag is positioned solely on the turnlock although, so it’s not an excellent idea to do this frequently in case you are carrying a regular-sized Kelly by the handle. Find a variety of vintage Hermès handbags, day attire, shoes and more on 1stDibs. The interior is lined with Etoupe lambskin leather-based and has one open pocket... This Kelly, within the Sellier style, is in Bubblegum 5p epsom leather-based with palladium hardware and has contrast stitching, entrance flap, two straps with middle toggle closure, single rolled deal with and detachable shoulder strap. The inside is lined with Bubblegum 5p lambskin leather-based and has... Hermes is among the most sought-after manufacturers within the resale market, with the Constance, Birkin and Kelly baggage being in limited stock and only available exclusively via physical shops. The inside is lined with Rose Sakura lambskin leather and has one open... If you're looking for a stunning Hermes handbag however your pockets doesn't love the idea of buying new, then look no additional than our second hand luxury baggage and accessories at Luxe.It.Fwd. As the home of the long-lasting Birkin bag and Kelly bag, the style home of Hermes wants little introduction. To this present day, the Contour line for the Kelly bag extends only to Bleu Marine Epsom exterior and Rouge H casing, and Rouge H Epsom leather to Bleu Marine casing. The “Picnic Kelly” first made headlines within the Hermès Spring/Summer 2011 show, actually being a reference to the classic woven picnic basket that has been round for centuries. Incorporating a bit of casual flair to the more formal Kelly design, the bag was launched in very small batches, making what may have been a ubiquitous addition to the road, a much rarer merchandise than one would assume. Each are done in Hermès’s staple Barénia leather-based and customary from Osier wicker. For Spring/Summer 2013, Hermès produced a line of bags that took its inspiration from the maritime baggage tags of sea voyagers traversing the Atlantic Ocean. Done both in Birkin and Kelly kinds, this collection is especially distinct for the Kelly model. It has been designed and processed to mimic the snowy mountain caps and dark, earthy mountain sides of the world-renowned mountain vary. For Fall/Winter 2011, Hermès launched the Ghillies line, inspired by broguing. The broguing technique native to the basic shoes of the identical name, is used in the Kelly bag line for the trims, giving a dressy look to the bag. The first, of the two bags on the scene, was the Kelly bag. Nora has a Louis Vuitton Petite Boite Chapeau Bag that comes with a steep value of a whopping Rs 3,08,189.28! The dancer had styled it with a one-shouldered top and pants. I'm not ready to purchase a designer bag currently however it is on my bucket list. I know if I ever do I will take your whole experiences into consideration. Here’s your alternative to purchase the item at a lower cost. Basically, we offer free delivery no matter where you buy, and you can also ask us about our warranty for top value objects. Please take a look at the descriptions and the images above to examine the situation of the item before the acquisition. Guaranteed genuine Hermes Kelly 20 Sellier Mini ll bag. That apart, there could be nothing fundamental about my Saint Laurent boots. These are even in my Best Boot Trends for 2020 blog post. The different plus point would be its worth, after all, coming in at SGD690 in comparability to the KDT which now begins fromSGD840 each. The replica handbag world is fraught with myths, vital quality information, and extra that I can’t wait to share with you. That’s why I wrote up this enjoyable, little information for my blog.

#hermes mini kelly #mini kelly bag #mini kelly #mini kelly 2 #mini kelly ii

[junkautoacquiringservice]

We Buy Scrap Cars

If you want some quick cash money for your scrap auto, you can offer it to a junkyard. This is a wonderful option since junkyards generate income by recycling pre-owned vehicles and parts. Many cars and trucks have a huge amount of steel and also can be utilized once more. In fact, one-quarter of the steel utilized in new autos is recycled steel. However, some junkyards might require that you remove your automobile down prior to marketing it. They will certainly additionally need you to eliminate all plastic parts, vacant the fluids, and get rid of the seats. All junk cars new jersey junkyards have actually certified ranges to establish the weight of the automobile. 

Before marketing your scrap vehicle, make sure to gather all the documentation, such as the car background report and service records. Discover neighborhood junkyards as well as utilized car firms, as well as make deals to buy the automobile. If you're not comfy selling your vehicle to a junkyard or made use of cars and truck company, you can likewise promote for "We Acquire Scrap Car" ads in regional newspapers and yellow pages. Alternatively, you can merely take your auto to a junkyard personally as well as make money in money. You can likewise offer your scrap auto to specified suppliers.

There are several reliable dealers in the U.S. that pay leading dollar for vehicles. If you're offering a scrap vehicle, make sure to get an auto mechanic's quote. The technician's cost will identify how much you'll get for your cars and truck. If you're offering an old car, it is probably worth greater than you originally spent for it. After that, you can use the cash for a brand-new cars and truck or various other crucial jobs. The price that you will certainly get for your scrap cars and truck will vary substantially depending on the place where you sell your junk automobile. 

Salvage worths are between 20 percent as well as thirty percent of its current value. Of course, the amount you're offered depends upon several factors, such as the level of mechanical problems, and also the existing market value for scrap steel. Some automobiles, specifically those that are older than 10 years, will not cost the same quantity as a more recent model. Others drop somewhere in the center, where they deserve a little bit greater than others. Along with junk steel, you can sell your junk cars and truck for scraps or parts. If you're trying to find cash money for your scrap auto, you can market it online via CarBrain. It fasts and also easy, as well as you can be out of the mess in as little as 90 minutes. Check out this homepage to find more information about this topic.

As soon as you've obtained the cash money, CarBrain will certainly send you the money you require to remove your scrap auto. It is a terrific means to make some extra cash money for your auto and also liberate some area on your property. Once you have actually picked the scrap cars and truck customer, it's time to make an inquiry through the internet site. Submit the type as well as give information about your scrap auto. Generally, you'll receive a first quote with a reference number. You can accept or decline the deal and coordinate the pick-up and drop-off dates. Once you have actually gotten an offer, the junker will certainly arrange to get your junk cars and truck on a convenient date.

To understand more about this subject, see this related post: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Car.

[idealcataracteyesurgery]

Is Cataract Surgical Procedure Right For You?

You might have to undertake cataract surgical procedure if you are experiencing blurry vision. Nevertheless, it is not essential for you to go through the treatment if your vision is excellent. You ought to consider having the procedure if you are experiencing other signs such as light spreading or various other vision problems. In some cases, the problem can be taken care of for years without surgical treatment. To figure out if cataract surgery is right for you, arrange a consultation with a professional. Cataract surgical procedure usually lasts much less than an hour. Throughout this cataract treatment, your surgeon will certainly make a little cut in front of your eye, put a tool, and break up the cataract. They will then very carefully get rid of the cataract as well as place a new lens, typically plastic, silicone, or acrylic. Later on, your eye will certainly heal and you will have the ability to drive. 

You might additionally require cataract surgical treatment on both eyes. You can choose to have one eye operated on each time, or both. One of the most usual type of cataract surgery is phacoemulsification, also known as 'Phaco'. It is quick, just taking around 30 minutes to complete, and requires very little sedation. The cosmetic surgeon makes a tiny surgical incision around your eye and also opens up the membrane bordering the lens. After breaking the over cast lens right into small fragments, a cosmetic surgeon will certainly utilize an add-on on the tip of the probe to suck the debris from the eye. Depending on your private circumstance, you might be able to drive today after the surgical treatment. After a few days, you need to avoid swimming as well as get in touch with sports, but you can normally go back to normal activities. Generally, you can drive and see number plates plainly from about 20 yards. Later, you may be restricted in activities for a few weeks. Learn more here on lasik surgery on this page now.

If you do not mind these restrictions, you need to go on and also arrange your surgical treatment. You will likely see a noticeable enhancement in your vision. After going through cataract surgical procedure, you ought to use glasses or get in touch with lenses. You may likewise be recommended special eye decreases and safety masks. During the very first couple of days after surgery, your vision will improve. You may notice a mild yellow or brownish tint in your vision. After cataract surgery, you should anticipate to go to the doctor a day or more complying with the surgery and after a week or two to check on the healing. It is regular to experience some discomfort, so you should prevent rubbing your eyes excessively. Your medical professional will certainly place a fabricated lens dental implant in your eye. 

This lens is made of an artificial material called acrylic. Once in position, the lens will continue to be in your eye. This substitute lens can deal with nearsightedness, farsightedness, astigmatism, or presbyopia. While lots of people report no pain during the procedure, some might experience small pain and also scratchiness. Many people are able to return to typical tasks after cataract surgical procedure. Find out more details in relation to this topic here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_surgery.

[hotwaterandmilk]

Series: Shoujo Kakumei Utena Artist: Saitou Chiho Publication: Ciao Magazine (06/1997) Details: Puku Puku Doubutsu Seal (Utena items only) Source: Scanned from personal collection

#shoujo kakumei utena #revolutionary girl utena #sku #himemiya anthy #chuchu #saitou chiho #chiho saito #scan: hotwaterandmilk #furoku #ciao magazine #90s manga #shoujo manga #classic manga #mangaedit #sorry for the off-yellow background #but after more than 20 years the plastic on these is a little yellow #still super cute though

[nappingwithyuuji]

headcanon idea: yuuji as a dad would be a mix of gojo & nanami. he's a responsible dad but not a super responsible adult. lol.

Okay listen, i think i can't do short drabbles so this is whatchu get lol (it's got more of a gojo vibe than nanami srryyy) (ps: aki means bright & i felt like it was fitting for our sunshine's child) I title it:

SPUD || dad!yuuji x fem!reader (1k, fluff) masterlist - taglist “Daddy, look!” A little voice chirps out excitedly, as their little feet stomp back towards the circular couch where Yuuji was watching. He held out his hand out and received an adorably soft high five.

“Good job, baby!” Words of encouragement left his mouth like second nature. He helped his five year old child up onto the plastic covered cushions of the couch that separated their lane from the other ones in the bowling alley. Aki reached out to grab one of the french fries on the table and smashed it into his mouth hungryly.

Yuuji chuckled at the child’s eagerness and passed him a tissue so they could clean themselves up before he offered them a sip from their boxed apple juice. Aki comfortably sipped their juice while with one hand gesturing for his father to go play.

The brightest and happiest cry joined the crashing sound of pins a few feet away, making Yuuji turn around and give his supportive child a funny face. He stuck out his tongue and closed his eyes while Aki giggled at his father’s antics. 80’s themed lighting and decor made Aki’s round face and pink curly hair lit up with shades of purple and blue.

Yuuji wished he could snip a quick picture of his child in all his cheerful and innocent glory, he palmed the pockets of his jeans only to be met with disappointment. Instead, he decided to keep making funny faces as he slowly walked towards their booth, just so he could elicit more gleeful cries from Aki and try to commit them to memory.

Both father and child sat with their legs touching enjoying the hectic ambiance of their favorite bowling alley for a few more seconds, their game having ended after Yuuji’s last turn. One of his hands moved to bring the child to sit on his lap for a quick cuddle.

Aki snuggled up against his father and Yuuji desperately craved the power to freeze time just so that he could enjoy the peace his kid brought to him. Even though these father-child dates happened once a week (or at least Yuuji tried), he felt like they weren’t enough. With his line of work, missions could keep him away from you and his child for days on end, but no amount of sleep deprivation or injuries could keep him from coming home and taking Aki for a play date.

“Hey, don’t you go snoozing on me, kid.” He said, moving one of his hands to tickle underneath the bright yellow tutu Aki had decided to wear over his black leggings. “You gotta stay up just a bit longer so that you can say hi to mommy when she comes to pick us up, okay?”

His child nodded, and like a know-it-all being that Yuuji joked around that you were, the phone in Yuuji’s fannypack started to vibrate. “Hello, who’s speaking?” He put on a serious face and looked at Aki with an eyebrow quirked upwards in an exaggerated gesture. “Well, I don’t know who you are but I must let you know that I have my own wife picking me and my kid up and she won’t like seeing me with another woman so, good night.” After saying that, Yuuji faked an indigned huff and ended the phone call.

Hushed giggles left the small body in his lap as Aki hid his laughter by smothering his face in Yuuji’s red hoodie. After ruffling Aki’s hair and wrapping his strong arms around their small frame, Yuuji stood up, lifting his little kid with no effort whatsoever. “Can I have your jacket, daddy?” Aki’s voice was quiet and almost shy.

Yuuji gently placed the kid on the ground and grabbed his own black denim jacket on top of their little shoulders. Even though the jacket was meant for someone 20 years older and with much more muscle than them, they started twirling around as they tried to get their tiny arms to fit inside the jacket’s armholes. “Will you be cold?” They asked, looking up with a small frown on their face.

Instead of answering, once Yuuji had crossed the belt of his lime green corduroy fanny pack across one arm and his neck, he simply picked up the child sized purple hoodie and tied its arms around his neck. “What do you mean? I’ve got this lovely hoodie to keep me warm and toasty,” Aki’s frown disappeared instantly and they reached for their father’s hand, “Now let’s go meet mom outside, yeah?”

Once outside, Yuuji sat down on the curb of the street while he looked at his child as they ran around the parking lot with his jacket. After a few demonstrations of what they had learned at their dance class this week, a pair of headlights came to a stop a few feet away and a honk made Yuuji’s head snap in its direction.

“Looking for a ride, handsome man?” Your voice jokingly purred as you opened your door and climbed out of the car, not really caring about not having even parked. Yuuji got up so quickly that his head spinned from being too tall, but he pushed that aside and walked slowly towards you. With a hand on his pockets, he swayed his hips as if he were John Travolta in Grease and you were his Sandy.

Once you were in his reach, he looped one finger on your belt loop and brought you in for a kiss. The warmth on your lips made him break out into a big smile, which, consequently, made you copy him. You teased his lower lip with your tongue and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. The slow and languid kiss was interrupted by a small body collapsing against the side of your thighs.

Yuuji broke the kiss and looked downwards to see Aki wrapping their short denim covered arms around your legs, “Whatchu’ think, spud? Do you want this lady to be your mommy?” You snorted at his comment, only to let another chuckle as you saw Aki’s confused face.

#yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #jjk x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #jjk fluff

[prettyboykatsuki]

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

__

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,”  he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

__

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning  on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart  in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

__

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You  cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

[spicykitteh]

Chill

Photo credit: Evgeny Karandaev

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x fem!Reader, Sasha x Connie

Rating: 18+ NSFW, MDNI!

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: Modern college AU, characters are aged up to early 20s, established relationship.

CW: Ice play, slightly rough sex -- more vigorous than rough, hint of edging, switch Jeanbo

Summary: On the hottest day of the year, Jean and his girlfriend try to find a way to cool off.

Jean sighed heavily as he punched the disconnect bubble on his phone. “Looks like we’re going to be sweating this weekend.”

“Are you kidding me? We pay this landlord a fortune every month and he can’t even bother to get over here and fix the air conditioner on the hottest week this year?!” YN plopped down on the threadbare brown sofa.

Jean had mentioned last week he had a bad feeling about the rattling the window unit had been making, shaking itself hard enough to sprinkle yellowed plastic shards and dust on the floor underneath it. This morning as the temperature climbed it seized with a deafening shriek. The four roommates tried poking and prodding at the thing though they all knew they had not a shred of mechanical aptitude. Jean spent nearly an hour arguing with the landlord but in this heatwave every repair service in town was booked completely.

“I guess the good news is Mr. Bozado said he wouldn’t charge us for the repair,” Jean offered weakly as he gulped lemonade. He swiped a hand across the sweat beading on his forehead.

“He better fuckin’ not,” Connie growled from the floor where he was sprawled out fanning himself with a hastily folded paper fan. “We didn’t break that junky thing, it was already half gone when we moved in.”

“I’m going to take a nap in the basement, it’s at least a little cooler down there,” Sasha said as she started opening windows for a cross breeze on her way to the basement steps. Connie tossed his makeshift fan on the coffee table and stomped heavily down the stairs in her wake.

YN glanced over to Jean who was draining the last of his now watery lemonade from the glass. “My room in the attic is way too hot. Is it ok if I stay in your room this weekend?”

Jean smiled over the rim of the glass and his honey eyes sparkled. “Sunshine, I don’t remember the last time you slept up there on your own since we came back from the beach.”

“Well, ok, that’s fair,” YN conceded with a wave of her hand. “It’s not like you’d let me sleep alone anyway, Little Spoon.” He set the glass on the coffee table where condensation pooled around the base and soaked the cork coaster. His knee nudged into hers as he sat down next to her and kissed her temple, tasting the salty sweat trickling from her brow.

“Just admit you can’t keep your hands off me, babe.”

“I can’t,” she turned her head to meet his lips as he bent to kiss her again. “Right now, though, it’s too hot for that.”

Jean agreed, leaning forward to peel his sweat-drenched t-shirt off. “Damnit, it’s like a furnace in here.” He scooped up his empty glass and motioned to hers with it. “Do you want another glass of lemonade?”

“Sure,” she exhaled and leaned back into the sofa. Jean strode through the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and scooped ice cubes from the container in the freezer. YN snatched Connie’s paper fan from the table as she watched Jean filling the glasses with ice and lemonade, admiring his bare torso and amused by the way his lips curled into a wicked grin and his eyes flicked over to her, roaming shamelessly over her body. He chugged his glass until it was empty, then filled it again with only ice. He brought her cup to her and grasped her hand to pull her up from the sofa.

“I have an idea, c’mere,” he squeezed her hand as he led her to his bedroom and shut the door behind them. “It’s a few degrees cooler here since it’s on the north side of the house. Besides that, I thought you might like to get out of those clothes and try something with me.” He took her glass and set it on the nightstand next to his.

“Mmm, what have you got planned for me?” she smiled as she slipped out of her cotton t-shirt and denim cutoffs, revealing the black lace bra and panties underneath. He flashed that damned adorable crooked grin as she unclasped his belt and let it dangle to focus on unbuttoning his jeans, the soft blue denim whispering through her fingers and dropping to the floor. Despite the stifling heat in the room her core felt hotter when she palmed his hardness through his boxers. He laced his fingers into the soft strands of her hair and tilted her head back to press his soft lips to hers, sucking gently on her bottom lip, her jawline, her earlobe.

“You’re a bit overdressed for what I have in mind, madame.” He hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her thighs. She shimmied out of the material and Jean swept her into his arms and lowered her onto the bed. His touch on her skin was like fire rushing through her veins that the breeze from the ceiling fan did little to cool off. He strode over to the window, propped it open and flicked on the small fan on his nightstand. His long fingers reached into his glass and deftly plucked out an ice cube. “Can I try cooling you down?”

She nodded and he stretched out beside her, nibbling at her flushed skin, letting the ice cube melting rapidly in his palm drip down the delicate skin of her throat, onto her collarbone, pooling in the valley between her breasts. His tongue chased the droplets, leaving a trail of goosebumps raised on her flesh and confusing her nervous system with the alternating chill of icy water and the heat of Jean’s mouth dragging against her skin. She arched her back against him, crying out when his chilled fingers slipped underneath her to unhook her bra and felt a light nip against her shoulder as he dragged the strap down her arm with his teeth. She shivered as his soft lips pressed kisses into the curve of her breast, her nipple brushing against the scruff of his jawline. He licked over the pink peak, sighing as he enveloped it with his lips and suckled hungrily.

YN’s fingers threaded through his strands, pulled him closer as she thrust her hips into him. His cock had already breached the fly of his boxers and pressed against her bare leg, the heat of him like a brand against her thigh. She traced a finger up the length of his shaft, her fingertip circling his sensitive tip and tracing over his slit. An airy moan broke the seal of his lips around her nipple.

“Oh fuck, honey,” was all Jean could manage between pants, mouth open, jaw jutting forward. His weakness ignited a primal urge in her to pounce on him, and she did. He easily rolled to his back with the press of her hand against his chest, watching her through heavily lidded eyes.

“Aren’t you hot with so much clothing on, baby?” she smirked and teased her forefinger under his waistband. He quickly discarded his boxers over the side of the bed. “That’s better. My turn now.”

She scooped an ice cube from his glass, tilting her head back but maintaining eye contact with him as she dropped the ice into her mouth, allowing the melt to trickle down her parched throat. She leaned over and kissed his neck lightly, then parted her lips just enough to blow chilled air over the sensitive skin behind his ear. Jean closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp, quavering gasp. “God, that feels good.”

She continued her trail of kisses down his throat, pausing to lick at the hollow just above the center of his collarbone and relishing in the salty tang of his skin. She pushed what remained of the ice cube along with her tongue until it had melted into a small pool on his chest. With one finger she pushed the droplets over his burning skin to scrawl in lazy arcs, her art punctuated with a kiss to his nipple. A whispery breeze through the window sighed in tandem with Jean, followed by the low rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance. YN pursed her lips and blew lightly across the pooling liquid, fascinated with the way his skin responded in goosebumps and how he gasped at the temperature change. She continued mapping every inch of him, the ridges and valleys of his abdomen, his sensitive navel, the smooth valley where his hip joined his pelvis so tantalizingly close to his tower of a cock.

“Please,’ he panted, “baby, I can’t take any more teasing, please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please, please fuck me,” he tossed his head side to side on the pillow, his soft hair damp with sweat now mussed and sticking up at wild angles.

“You started this game, are you giving in so soon?” she sat back in amusement, enjoying how worked up Jean was for her.

“You’re driving me wild, babe, I need you,” he huffed impatiently.

She grinned and dropped to all fours, straddling his thighs and grazing her nipples up his torso until she was face to face with him. “Then come get me.”

Jean lost no time bucking up into her at a frenzied pace, his hands grasping desperately for her bouncing tits, her waist, her hips rocking in rhythm with his.

“Jean! Jean! Oh fuck baby,” she cried out with each powerful thrust of his hips.

He was too lost in his lust-clouded mind and could only respond with a whine, his long eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. She was at his mercy now, hanging on helplessly to his shoulders while he fucked her through wave after wave of powerful orgasms until he came deep inside her with a roar. A peal of thunder rattled the pane in the open window, followed by the steady patter of raindrops subsiding into a gentle thunderstorm. A cool breeze, heavy with petrichor, billowed through the curtains, much to the relief of the sweltering lovers.

Jean pulled her to his chest, tenderly rubbing her hips that were bound to be bruised under his desperate grip. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, babe.” She snuggled into his arms with a satisfied sigh.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” she giggled, “more than ok.”

The rain pattered steadily outside, answered occasionally by a soft murmur of thunder. The heat from earlier in the day finally subsided into a cool summer evening, perfect for sleeping through the night in each other’s arms.

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein smut

[bearriebelliejam]

"Hit One Where One Lives"

Summary ↳ Atsumu has had feelings for you since the day you've met, and he's always had trouble controlling his urges.

Words ↳ 1,566

Tags ↳ 18+, NSFW, characters above legal age, descriptions of NSFW fantasies, no actual fucking, atsumu is horny, mentions of high school days, angst but only like a couple sentences

A/N ↳ ahh I'm so sorry this is short and got cut off, but if you guys like it and want more please lmk!!

hit one where one lives

hit (one) where (one) lives

To affect one on a personal or intimate level.

People by nature only care about an issue if it hits them where they live.

Atsumu Miya was good at a lot of things.

Setting, spiking, serving, receiving, and bargaining for discounts on fatty tuna.

But one thing that Atsumu could never, ever bring himself to perfect was the art of conveying his feelings properly. It was something Osamu had confronted him about during their early high school years, recognizing his twin’s coping mechanism to protect him from his own self-destructive thoughts. A strained smile and bottles of bright yellow hair dye could only do so much for the rather eccentric Miya twin, something his brother had warned him would lead to burnout by his early 20’s. Atsumu, at the time, would only laugh it off, claiming that his inquisitive behavior was more stalkerish than affectionate.

This was until Atsumu had cost Inarazaki their spot in the nationals during his first year. He had never considered himself to be someone with butter fingers, in fact, he prided himself in his setting skill. Too much sometimes. Atsumu’s scalp felt raw from how his fingers dug into his hair, pulling at the obnoxiously dyed strands as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt juvenile. He was in high school now, he had no reason to be mourning over such a stupid mistake.

Atsumu flinched lightly when the cool condensation of a plastic water bottle hit his calf, feeling the Air Conditioning in the now almost empty stadium blowing against the wet spot on his leg. Maybe he was dreaming, he thought, looking into the slightly glossy eyes that bore back into his. Yep, definitely dreaming. Little did he know those eyes would be the focus of his J/O sessions for the rest of his life.

His breath caught in his throat as your rosy cheeks swelled with your smile, although empathetic. It was too much of a foreign feeling to him. You were just doing your job, being the one and the only manager of a team as arduous as Inaraziki- in the same grade as him, no less- meaning that you had to sniff out each and every demanding member. Atsumu didn’t think he could ever forget how you sat next to him that day, softly rubbing the area between his shoulder blades and whispering soft words of encouragement as you helped him pop the lid on his bottle. You admitted to him about how even though you barely knew shit about volleyball, you could tell from the way his teammates and captain regarded him after the match that it wasn’t his fault. That night, after walking you home and waving you off down your driveway, Atsumu felt a foreign feeling rising in his chest.

This feeling would only continue to grow over the next four years.

Whether it be the way you had to clutch your knees every time he made you laugh too hard, the way you’d sneak a pudding to him during the mornings where your classes lined up, or the way that you’d both pull some sort of immature prank on his disgruntled brother. It was safe to say that you two were super close. But not in the way that Atsumu wanted you to be. Alongside every little detail that made you a great friend, there were way too many details that made you desirable. That time during the summer when it got so hot that you stripped yourself of your short sleeve for a tank top that accentuated every one of your curves still keeps him up at night. Not to mention the form-fitting elastic shorts that hugged your ass so right that even the newbies on the team couldn’t help themselves from trying to sneak a peak.

This would continue up until graduation, where Atsumu opened the door to your very teary-eyed and very emotional-looking self. Your eyes were brimming with tears, and he didn’t think those delectable swollen cheeks of yours could puff out any more than they already were. With shaky hands, you lifted the slightly crumpled piece of paper up to your chest. The thick black letters of ‘MSBY’ must have grown fists and hit him in the gut because before he knew it, he was lifting you a foot off the ground with an enthusiastic spin.

--

Fluffy white cotton surrounded Atsumu’s vision as he dried his hair from the shower, letting out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of his muscles relaxing after such a long practice session. It was the off-season, and the MSBY Black Jackals were taking the time off doing what they always did. Play volleyball. Obviously not to the extent as they would during the actual season, but every moment spent not doing something productive was a second basically submitting victory to the other team. That’s how Bokuto put it at least, before ultimately spraining his wrist from going too hard on the dumbbells. Safe to say both Coach and Akaashi were not happy.

“Hey, Omi-om, you should totally let me borrow that body spray you got.” Atsumu didn’t typically wear any sort of cologne, but the way you had him bend down to your level to smell his shirt collar after Kiyoomi’s scent wafted onto him was the result of a long sleepless night for him.

“Get your own, Miya.” Kiyoomi scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw on his MSBY brand sweater. Atsumu pouted, quickly forgetting about every single one of his surroundings as he saw his phone light up with your contact name, your photo staring back at him expectantly. He had taken the photo when you had dragged him to the mall with you once, having slid a 20-yen coin into the slot of a mechanical bull riding machine. He had found it amusing at first, the way you had desperately grasped at the horns of the animal as it began to speed up, but his laughter was caught short. His eyes had trailed down your back that was arched suggestively off the saddle, hips moving with the steady bucking of the machine-

“Shit-” Snapping himself out of his erotic memory, he quickly clicked the green ‘answer call’ button. “Hello?” “Atsumu, are you almost done getting ready yet?” Your voice alone was enough to ease the tension building inside of him, shoulders relaxing as he let out a low chuckle.

“Why, missing my pretty face?” He could at least acknowledge that he only flirted with you to try and ease the urges growing inside him, he wasn’t that stupid. It was also partially because of the way the tips of your ears would redden at his sly comments, but you would always brush it off as being part of his play-boy-like personality. If only you knew how much he wanted to change that.

“I’m missing that your pretty face isn’t hurrying the hell up and getting in my goddamn car.” The teasing lilt to your voice did nothing to prevent the way his chest swelled when you called him pretty, a stupid, joyous smile spreading on his lips.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses. I’ll be right out.” You blew a raspberry into your phone, Atsumu giving one of his own before hanging up and grabbing his gym bag.

Nudging open the locker room door with his side, Atsumu had to force his dick from twitching in his shorts as he witnessed the sight in front of him. You were bent over the reception desk of the college gym, talking to the lady behind the desk as you fiddled with the heel of your stiletto. His eyes traced the way the fabric of your skirt hugged down your thighs. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. Discreetly making his way up behind you he shot the desk lady a wink with a finger over his lips, receiving a gulp and small nod from her before turning back to you.

“And that’s when I told Coach, we need to stop letting Bokuto near the equipment when he’s having one of his emo-” A dramatic squeal ended up finishing your little rant as Atsumu’s muscled arms hooked under your shoulders and yanked you off the floor. In the midst of your flailing, you caught a glimpse of bleached blonde hair in your peripherals. “Atsumu Miya set me down this instant!” Although your face was contorted in frustration, the laughter that slipped between your words disclosed your amusement.

The specific position that Atsumu had you in reminded him of one of the fantasies he had of you once. Your breath hot against his cheek as he plowed into you from behind, strong hands caressing the bulge that appeared in your stomach whenever he bottomed out. He would feel the sweaty slap of your ass against his pelvis with every harsh thrust, cries escaping your lips at the feeling.

“Atsumu?” You looked over your shoulder at the athlete in confusion. Realizing that he had spaced out, Atsumu mentally slapped himself as he smirked and set you down. “Sorry, sweetheart, got lost in thought.” He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to act casual, which was not missed by the reception lady as she grabbed her jacket and left the office, clearly sick of the flirting. A familiar smile spread across your cheeks, ears tinting in the way that made his cock twitch in his shorts, this time failing to conceal it. “Your place tonight, right?”

“You know it.” You giggled. This was going to be a long night for him.

dm/send an ask to be added to my @ list!! currently empty <3

#bearriebelliefics #atsumu miya smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu #miya #atsumu smut #osamu #osamu smut #miya twins #miya twins smut #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut #haikyuu smut fic #inarizaki #inarizaki haikyuu #inarizaki smut #kita #aran #suna #my adhd was so bad while writing this

[julie-thefatones]

THERES NO ONE LIKE YOU || BILLY HARGROVE X READER||

A/N : I just wanted to thank @i-thought-i-knew-what-love-was​ for helping me with the idea of this story for I was having a block lol!!! Also im sorry if i didnt catch all the typos or mistakes, i tried my best lol! anyway i hope you guys like it :)

WORD COUNT: 5290

WARNINGS: 16+ (Kissing, Rude Language)

It was Summer 1985, it was unbelievably hot in Hawkins, IN this time of year.. but this year was different, it was hotter than any summer before that I could remember, so that only meant one thing.......Everybody and I do mean everybody was at the public pool. It was the only public pool in town and no on really thought or maybe they just didn't bother to get a pool of their own.

As I made my way to the pool just like every other day this summer, I felt different. I wasn't sure if it was because I did my hair different than usual, Instead of my usual half up half down action, I decided to do it to the side and crimped, it made me feel like I was in Teen Beat under the 'Your New Summer Doo' Section.... Or maybe it was my new swim suit that was all the rage this year with the coolest Neon Yellow and Hot Pink color block, sure it made me feel somewhat like a glass of strawberry lemonade but if i'm gonna be a glass of strawberry lemonade i'm gonna be the hottest glass of strawberry lemonade there is.

Well whatever, Im not going to let this strange feeling ruin my day at the pool, no way, nothing is going to ruin this day unless its an overly packed swimming pool with no room to breath...... as I walked through the gates of the public pool, I looked around, took a deep breath, and sighed "Ruined" I whispered to my self while closing my eyes. I walked over to my usual pool chair dodging kids left and right as i made my way, blocking out the parents yelling across the way for 'TOMMY STOP PUSHING YOUR BROTHER UNDERWATER!' I mean you think Tommy would know by now that when he tries to drown his younger brother, he's going to get yelled at. Taking deep breaths the whole way to my chair trying not to let anyone get to me, I laid my towel down and took my seat. I laid there for maybe 10 minutes before i heard Mrs. Fowl yelling once more "TOMMY STO-" but this time she was cut off *WHISTLE NOISE* "TOMMY! STOP DROWNING YOUR TWARP OF A BROTHER BEFORE I DROWN YOU! YOU KNOW THE RULES! YOU LITTLE DOUCHE" I heard a male voice call across the pool, I tilted my sunglasses down to see what was going down, first I saw Mrs. Fowl rolling her eyes at what the mysterious male just yelled, I scanned over to discover who this mysterious male was... He made his way down the side of the pool greeting a group of middle aged women who gawked at him. He was slowly getting closer to the Life Guard tower and thats when I realized who it was that was calling orders and greeting people across the pool...... It was Billy Hargrove, the new, but well known bad boy of Hawkins High School. Girls went Ga Ga over him, he was hot sure but I never really understood why these girls threw themselves at him, he was just a guy, I mean not to mention he was a major douche, didn't show respect to anyone he talked too, also I couldn't stand how loud his freaking car is!! like dude, not necessary, especially not necessary when its 3:00 in the morning!! did i mention he lived down the street from me. I was deep in thought, not realizing i was still staring at Billy, but now he was sitting at the top of the Life Guard tower, I didn't realize i was staring until he stared back at me and winked "Oh my gosh" I whispered to my self in embarrassment, I rolled over pushing my sunglasses back up feeling completely mortified, Maybe he would forget about it... I mean he has girls staring at him all the time.

I laid there for about 2 hours, forgetting about my slight interaction with Billy across the pool. I didn't feel bothered the last 2 hours until i felt a large presence blocking my sun, with out opening my eyes for not wanting to get out of my zen "Hey! Sasquatch, who ever you are, your mama wasn't a glass maker, so if you would kindly move out of my sun I would deeply appreciate it, thanks" I heard a cocky chuckle above me, as much i didn't want to, I opened my eyes, and there he was right above me... Billy "Ya know, its not polite to call people Sasquatch... and for your information my mom could be a glass maker... so you making assumptions .. well thats just plain rude" He said, licking his lips before continuing "But, i'm a very forgiving person so i guess ill let it pass" He said with a big cocky smile, I couldn't help but feel flustered, even though he was being so overly confident and cocky... he just had this charm about him ... but i wouldn't let him know that, I rolled my eyes in response and kept a straight expression laying still "Oh, Hey Billy.... I didn't know you worked here" I said with as little emotion as I could express "Now, I don't think that is true Y/N, I saw you checking me out earlier" He said with the same cocky but teasing tone, I scoffed "Oh please Hargrove, you wish i was checking you out" I felt him shift behind me before he answered "Ya know, usually when someone is just staring at another .. it means your checking them out" After hearing his words I tilted my sunglasses down to look at him "You flatter yourself sir" I said with a teasing smile, he scoffed and looked off and then back to me "hmmm alright Y/L/N, well my mistake" I rolled my eyes once more and pushed my glasses back up "Alright, you've blocked my sun for long enough, now move along Sasquatch" I said, back to no emotion, He chuckled "Yes Ma'am, I would hate to deprive you of your sun" He winked before walking away. I couldn't help but stare after him as he walked away..... I quickly looked away, realizing what i was doing ... What was I doing... I don't like Billy.

The next day rolled around, and I was feeling slightly more excited then usual to get ready to go to the pool. I know what you're thinking... NOO it had nothing to do with Billy... I just was excited to cool off in the water...... and lay in the sun again.... and maaaybe it had something to do with Billy, but its nothing big... I just like to give him a hard time, that is all... that. is. all.

I walked into the pool area, same as yesterday, but today I wore my red swimsuit that had little frills on the straps with a red Scrunchy to match. I laid my towel down, again like yesterday and just like clockwork I heard the same male voice as yesterday "TOMMY! DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS EVERYDAY! NOW STOP DROWNING YOUR BROTHER SO I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHERS TERRIBLY SHRILL VOICE YELL AT YOU TO STOP! IT IS LITERALLY THE WORST PART OF MY SHIFT!" I looked behind me to see Billy finish walking to his place at the Life Guard tower, I couldn't help but chuckle at Mrs. Fowl's face, mouth wide open in offense to what Billy said.

The afternoon flew by and Billy paid absolutely no mind to me, he just say on his tower and every now and then yelled at Tommy.... But other than that.. nothing. I Hate to say i was slightly disappointed, yesterdays banter was not only fun but the most entertainment i have had this summer, all my friends were away for the summer leaving me alone ... hence the coming to the pool by my self everyday. The past week went by the exact same way, I would show up to the pool looking the cutest i can look interchanging the 3 swimsuits i own, and the 3 different hairstyles i knew how to do. But nothing, he would yell at Tommy, sit and do nothing... except when he would flirt with bimbo mcBarbie or wanna be Farrah Fawcett, it made me have a pit in my stomach... not that i was jealous... absolutely not, I was just bored.

The next day, I showed up, the same way as I had been for the past week.. except today i had no expectations except to mock the plastic Phoebe Cates wanna be that would flirt with Billy endlessly today. Today I wore my red swimsuit once again, with the same matching scrunchy... I sat and prepared to be disappointed again. I sat for about 20 mins, and just like a week before.... someone was blocking my sun, I couldn't help but grow a small smile on my face, I tilted my sunglasses and looked right at mr. Billy Hargrove with his cocky smile in front of me "You're blocking my sun Sasquatch" I said with a teasing tone "Oh my apologies ma'am" he said right before walking away. Really that was it .... no banter nothing.... I sighed aloud before sinking into my chair, what was gonna do .... and as I heard Mrs. Fowl and Billy yell at Tommy, thats when it came to me.

I approached the edge of the swimming pool, took a deep breath, was i really gonna do this... just to get Billy's attention? I rolled my eyes at myself, before stepping into the pool. I carefully walked closer and closer to the middle of the pool, looking around at all the kids around me, they looked like they were having so much fun. I started to rethink my plan, I didn't want to scare any of these kids just to get a stupid guys attention... a guy i don't even like! 'this is so stupid' i thought to my self before starting my way out of the pool, but thats when i heard the most annoying high pitched laugh coming from the Life Guard tower, and thats when I saw the Bimbo Phoebe Cates wanna be standing beneath Billy at the tower, and with out thinking I went for it. I started flailing and putting my own head under water to mimic drowning "HELP! HELP!" I screamed each time i came up for breath "HELP! I NEED HELP" I continued to scream, Thats when Billy just casually climbed down from his tower like nothing was going on and walked at a normal pace over to the edge of the pool before getting in. Billy swam effortlessly to me, and before i even knew it he swooped me up into his arms bridal style, carrying me out like i weighed nothing.... as we were exiting the pool, I had to admit, the way the water dripped off his hair and down his chest, Billy Hargrove was insanely hot.... I couldn't help but just stare at him, his face was not only hot, but it was .... Beautiful .. i mean his complexion was flawless... his eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue, and his smile was brilliantly white.. and thats when i realized he was smiling at me, I slightly shook my head in order to leave the trance i was in "Wow Y/L/N, that was quite the scene you made there.... you alright?" Billy asked in his teasingly cocky tone he always had, with his big smile, I rolled my eyes "Gosh Hargrove, please excuse me for making a scene by almost dying .... how rude of me!" I scoffed, he licked his lips with a chuckle "Oh almost dying? My bad ma lady, you did in fact almost die" he glanced at the pool and then back at me "In the 4ft end of the pool" he said with a huge smile looking straight into my eyes, with embarrassment i glanced at the pool and back at him "I was not in the 4ft end! i was at least AT LEAST!!! in the 8ft end!" I exclaimed in defense to myself, I hated lying, not only did it make me feel terrible but i was bad at it!! I noticed Billy was still holding me, and I only noticed because Bimbo Barbie and Wanna be Plastic Phoebe Cates was staring at me with murder in their eyes. Billys grip tightened around my thighs and arm as he effortlessly held me "Y/N, I had to train in this pool for 5 hours everyday for week before the pool opened to get this job..... I think i know where the 4ft end is" He said to me with confidence, I was at a loss for words, I had no comeback except for "Well, they must have painted to numbers wrong on the pool" Great one Y/N, stellar... they totally painted the numbers wrong on the pool, especially since you stood just fine where you 'Drowned' .. it was totally the 8ft end ... I wanted to face palm so badly but i didn't wanna give myself away that easy, my thought was interrupted by Billys laughter "Ya know! I bet they did paint them wrong.... My bad Y/N" He said in a sarcastic tone, I rolled my eyes in response "Well Billy, Thank you for helping me ... now if you would please let me down" I said, even though I didn't mind him holding me.... it sure was fun pissing The bimbo twins off. He smiled and nodded his head and gently let me down "It was a pleasure saving you Y/N" and as he started to walk away he turned back to me "Ya know, i teach swim lessons... I could teach you a couple things" He said with a wink "Yeah! maybe! Don't want to drown again" I said while wringing out my hair "Good! wouldn't want your fellow swim team to know that you forgot how to swim over the summer" He said winking before walking away "Yeah!!! that would be embarrassing!!!" I called after him, once he was not looking my face hit the palm

of

my

hand so hard it's like they were magnets.

Before leaving, with all my pride gone anyway, I walked up to Billy "Hey!" I exclaimed up in order for him to hear me up there on the tower, He looked down at me and smiled "Oh Hey Y/N!" He responded "Billy, did you mean it?" he squinted his eyes like he couldn't understand me, I sighed "Did you mean it!!" I exclaimed a little louder, but he still squinted with confusion "Ya know! why don't you just climb up here and tell me" He exclaimed to me, I sighed and looked around "Why don't you come down here!!" I yelled back, and again he squinted, I rolled my eyes and started up the ladder "Was this really necessary Hargrove, I see you talking to the barbie twins all the time with out having them climb up here" I said exasperated, he just smiled propping him self up on his chair "Yes, but you see... Im not actually listening to them.. its the same thing every time" he says before he start " 'Oh Billy, you look so strong, please take me out for a ride sometime' 'Oh Billy, I bet you could bench me with ease' " He said in his best girl impression and then went back to his normal voice "and yadda yadda yadda, but you! if you're talking to me... it must be something worth hearing! so how can i help ya Y/N?" I couldn't help but chuckle "well, i was just wondering if you meant it, when you said you would give me swimming lessons?" I said, looking down at my hands that were clasping the edge of Billys seat to keep my balance, I could feel his eyes on me, but i refused to look at him until i heard his answer "Well, That depends.... are you asking?" He asked, with pure joy in his voice out of amusement, I mustered up my confidence to look at him "Maybe!" I said, he was smiling the largest, cockiest smile, placing his whistle in between his teeth, not breaking his eye contact with me and then *WHISTLE NOISE* "TOMMY! IM GONNA COUNT TO 3 AND IF YOU ARE STILL BEING A LITTLE DICK IM GONNA COME DOWN THERE AND TIE YOU TO A TREE ..... BET YOU WOULDN'T LIKE THAT KID!" He yelled, still not breaking contact , I again couldn't help but chuckle, he opened his mouth so slightly so that the whistle would just fall out with ease, his mouth still open he grew a sheepish smile "Yeah Y/N, It would be an honor to teach you to swim" I smiled "Good!! thanks" I said as I started to climb down the ladder "Hows 10pm tonight?" He said, and I popped back up to level with him to make sure i heard him right "Huh?" he chuckled "I said how about 10pm tonight?" I just sat there for a minute, no knowing what to say.... I would have to sneak out in order to do that but before i could stop myself i said "Yeah sure!! that works for me" He smiled even bigger "Great!! Ill see ya then Y/L/N" I started down the Ladder again "Great!!!" I exclaimed.

I ran home and did the usual, eat dinner with the family, go to my room and read whatever book i'm reading until my parents go to bed, in which i usually go to bed or sneak down to watch some TV to myself, but not tonight.... tonight i was sneaking out.... I've never snuck out before ... let alone sneak out to be with a boy.... and not only that .. the town bad boy ..... ugh! what am I doing.

As soon as I heard my parents bedroom door shut I finished prepping my hair and slipped on some shorts over my swimsuit. I ran down the stairs and snuck out the door, making sure to close the door very slowly in order to not make a sound, clicking it shut ever so slightly, as soon as it shut i sighed in relief and turned running into someone behind me causing me to scream "WHAAAA!" I screamed "Geesh Y/N!! Ya want the whole neighborhood let alone your parents to know your sneaking out" I heard Billy whisper to me as he clasped his hand over my mouth, I let out a huge breath happy it was just him and not some criminal, I licked his hand to get it off my face, he laughed before removing his hand "Excuse me Hargrove, you almost gave me a heart attack" he chuckled "You know this is your second brush with death today, I don't know if me being around you is good for your health" I smiled to myself, Oh no... You definitely are not Hargrove. I looked at him and then realized "Hey!! why are you here, i thought i was meeting you at the pool?" we continued to walk down to his car "You really think i was going to let you walk to the pool, by your self, at 10:00 at night" he said as he held the passenger door to his car open, I rolled my eyes "Im not getting in there" I said crossing my arms, he scrunched his eyebrows confused "and why not?" he asked "Because i hate your car" I said without thinking, he laughed, now leaning on his open car door, looking at me with an amused smile "Oh really? You hate my car!!! you have never been in my car, my car is offended" He said teasingly, I rolled my eyes once more "Why do you hate my car?" He asked, I sighed a big sigh "Because!! it's entirely too loud, which usually wouldn't bother me, but when its waking me up at 3:00 in the morning and i am having a really good dream... yeah that would make me hate a car." He just looks at me with disbelief before bursting into laughter "Well, we're gonna change that" he said winking at me and opening the door wider "Now please get in the car" he said gesturing to the car "No! i'm not getting in the car." I stood my ground, I was not getting in that- My thought was interrupted by strong arms scooping me off the ground and before i knew it I was in Billys arms "Billy!! what are -" he set me in the passenger seat of his car and closed the door before i could finish my sentence. Billy effortlessly swung into the driver seat and within seconds we were zooming down the street, in usual Billy fashion... I had to admit, it was exhilarating going this fast with the music blasting this loud I couldn't help but belt the lyrics along "THERES NO ONE LIKE YOUUUUUU! I CANT WAIT FOR THE NIGHTS WITH YOUU! I IMAGINE THE THE THINGS WE DOOO" I belted, Billy smiled at me in awe, I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks and Billy started belting the song, hitting his steering wheel to the music, nudging me with his elbow to join back in, so I did. We belted songs all the way to the swimming pool, it wasn't a super long drive... but it was probably the most fun I have ever had in a 5 minute drive. As we pulled up to the pool Billy turned off the car and within seconds he was at my door helping me out. "Soooo are you even allowed to be here this late?" I asked looking around for security cameras, Billy chuckled "ummm thats up for debate, but for tonight.. yes" I nodded along "Alright.... why tonight but not other nights? did you bribe the security camera guy" Billy looked at me as he unlocked the gate to the pool "Not exactly" He said with one of his famous Billy winks, I have received more winks from billy in the last 12 hours then i have received in the past year its self.... but I didn't mind. He finally got the lock undone and we walked in, out of habit i started walking toward my usual chair "Ha, where you going Y/L/N?" I stopped in my tracks and realized what i was doing, I started back to Billy, but being flustered I tripped over my feet causing me to fall right into Billys arms, I couldn't tell if he moved to come catch me or I was just falling in

his

direction and caught me... either way, I liked the feeling of his arms around me "You know, you're a real dork" He said with a chuckle, and in a moment we just stared into each others eyes, until me being me had to sneeze, I faced away and sneezed into my arm, Billy helped me gain my balance before letting go of me "ehem.... well i'm gonna get the pool cover off and then we will start the lesson" I watch as Billy hastily got the cover off, I felt bad letting him do it alone, so I started helping him, he looked up at me and laughed "What are you doing Y/L/N" He said with a chuckle, I smiled at him "What!!! I wasn't gonna let you do it by yourself!!" He just smiled at me and then shrugged as we continued to get the cover off. We were now standing in the middle of the pool "Okay, Y/L/N, let start with basics.... Floating" He said looking at me as if to say 'Come closer' "Y/N You're gonna have to get closer to me" he said smiling grabbing my hand a pulling me closer to him, I looked up and our face's weren't even an inch away with how close we were, I could feel his breath on my cheek "you're gonna want to get on your back" He said in almost a whisper, not moving from how close he was to my face, I blinked a slightly turned to look into his eyes "Excuse me?" he chuckled "To float.... you're going to want to get on your back to float" He said smiling, all of a sudden his face was gone away from mine and i felt one hand on my legs and the other on my lower back as lifted up my Legs and balanced me out ... I was now on my back floating in a pool with Billy Hargrove "Alright, Im gonna let go" he said, he actually sounded kind of nervous, which i have never heard from Billy, as i felt his hands start to move away from me I couldn't help stop my self "No" I whispered, not wanting his hands to leave from me, he smiled and moved closer "If i don't let go, you wont learn" He said, i felt his fingers lightly graze my lower back "Well, I also wont learn if you leave me on my own too soon... ill sink" I said trying have a teasing tone but it was slightly ruined by my heavy breathing, i couldn't help i was filled with all kinds of emotions right now. Billy leaned down closer to my face "Thats true, good job" He said with just as heavy breathing as me. We focused on my floating for about 15 minutes before we went on to other things, we swam all together for about an hour or so until it started to get pretty cold, I could help but shiver "You need to stop Y/L/N?" Billy asked making his way back over to me "Im just a little cold, i'm okay though" I said through chattered teeth, he chuckled and ducked lower in the water and came over to me the rest of the way "C'mon, get down here" He said pushing my shoulder so that I would be in the water as deep as him, he moved closer where his arms were now around mine, and once again our faces weren't even an inch apart "better?" he whispered, all I could do was nod my head, I really was getting warmer.... "You smell good" I said, Did i really just say that...... 'you smell good' ? really??? ugh! ... Billy laughed "Thank you, I take pride in that." he said, moving a little bit closer "As you should, smelling good is something you should take pride in" man i am one with the words, i'm surprised he is even still here, with my stellar flirting..... A week ago I didn't even like looking in Billys direction, and now..... Now i wanted nothing more then to feel him closer not only physically but personally... He was a lot different than i thought he would be. I felt him start to lean in closer to my face, I didn't know why but i back away, which made me really mad at myself.... why did I do that "Im sorry I-" as he apologized I moved back to where I was and closer, inviting him to continue what he was gonna do, he smiled and then moved in, before i knew it his lips were on mine with out thinking I started moving my lips with his, our motion so fluid, he was good at this, his hands were now on my back moving me closer, and there we were ... me and Billy Hargrove.. making out in the middle of Hawkins Public

Pool at

11:45 at night. We both pulled away by the sight of lights passing down the street, cautious of getting caught, we both looked back at each other and laughed "You're good at that" I said catching my breath, once again feeling the blood rush to my cheeks "You're very honest ya know that" he said, rubbing my back now "Ya wanna know something though.... You're good at it too" He said looking down and quickly licking his lips and then looking back up at me "How do you do that?" I asked, he scrunched his brows confused "How do i do what?" I sighed "Get me from hating you to ... to... this! in less than a week" I exclaimed in a slight whisper "Its my super power" he chuckled "Now, c'mon... I better get you home" and before I could blink his hands were off my back and he was effortlessly hopping out of the pool. totally disregarding the stairs, he held his hand out to help me out the same way "I think, Im gonna use the stairs... ya know because ... thats why they are there" I said teasingly, he rolled his eyes "But where is the fun in that" he scoffed as he walked over to the stairs to meet me, and as soon as I reached the top he had me slung over his shoulder "Aaahh!!! Billy, I know that events today may prove other wise, but I do know how to walk on my own" I said in protest "Sure! but what if i let you down and all of a sudden a eagle comes down and swoops you away and i wont be able to stop him" I rolled my eyes at his comment "The likely hood of that happening, is about as good as me winning the lottery 3 times in 2 days" I said still hanging upside down on his shoulder "Well, maybe i just like holding you" and then ladies and gentleman .... butterflies happened... oh boy.

We had a good 5 minute ride back to my house, where he held my hand, in which I tried to protest just to mess with him but inevitably gave in... I like it. When we pulled up, just like before Billy quickly got out of the car and had my door open in second, helping me out and walking me to my door with our fingers interlocked, I started for my door until i felt a tug of Billy pulling me back to him, I knew he was strong, but just one tug i was flying back to him, he had to catch me, in which our faces were once again within millimeters from each other "We gotta stop meeting like this" He said teasingly with his famous smile "I gotta tell you something" I slipped out "I know how to swim and I wasn't really drowning, I pretended to get your attention" I said entirely too fast, he chuckled "I know" I paused at what he said "You know?" I asked confused "Ya know Y/N, You are a terrible liar..... First off no one drowns in the 4ft end of a pool unless your 3, and second we may not have talked too often in school... but that doesn't mean I didn't notice you, You're the captain of the swim team, which is why i brought it up earlier today, so of course you know how to swim... I offered the swim lessons as joke.. and then you came and asked and..... I couldn't be happier you did" He said still holding me, I smiled and did a little excited hop "You noticed me?" I said a little too eager, he chuckled and looked away and then looked back "Theres no one like you Y/L/N" he said right before taking my chin lightly with his fingers and bringing me in for gentle but passionate kiss goodnight.

#Billy Hargrove #Dacre Montgomery #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic #Stranger things fic #Marys Fanfic #Marys Fic #Stranger things #🥰

[beatleszeppelin]

If I asked you to stay, would you?

Summary: After a tough case, Reid stays home from work. You have to check on him. He looks sick, so you take him to the doctor, and it’s your job to take care of him.

Category: Sick Fic

Warnings/Includes: First couple paragraphs are sad criminal minds things, but feel free to skip that, and mention of puke

Word count: 4k

Written in (gender neutral) second person.

The piercing cold, and slight drizzle falling out of the dark sky around, adding insult to injury. Spirits were low, as rain washed a child's blood from the dirt. The case had not gone ideally; two lives lost, and the team just had to walk away.

 A somber walk back to the cars freezing water hitting, stinging his face. Reid’s nose was red, clothes and hair sopping wet, freezing. He got to the back seat of the car, he pulled his knees up, and let his head fall onto his hands. Morgan and JJ waited outside the car, giving the kid a minute alone. 

The drive back was quiet, JJ glanced back ever so often hoping Reid had fallen asleep, but every time she’d look back she would see his head pressed against the window, eyes darting with every opposing car. The street lights passed over, illuminating his face, and a shine lingering in his eyes. She’d put a comforting hand on Reid’s knee, like a mother would on a long car ride.

In damp clothes he finished his reports, and finally left the office at two. 

He entered the subway tunnels, light coming out as a path marker. The eerie feeling that comes with two a.m. is in the lingering, on the streets, in tiled subway tunnels, and definitely present in anything the moonlight touches. There is a surprising amount of people on the subway for being so early. A man in the corner, held a bag with paper towels in it. A little farther along was an old bag lady. Finding someone normal to sit near was going to be too much to ask for, until he saw a woman, sleeping and seemingly destitute, a baby squirming on her lap. He waved. And she returned it.

So he sat. He was talking to her, and playing with her. Doing magic has always gotten him far with kids, except when he was one. She squealed as he pulled a coin from behind her ear and he laughed along. She laughed at the look of him smiling, and when he leaned in to make funny faces at her, her giggle turned into a cough. He patted her back a little bit, to quiet her barking cough, trying to not wake the baby’s mother. If you’re tired enough to fall asleep on those plastic seats, then any sleep you could get must be a blessing.

His stop neared, and he pulled 20 dollars from his wallet and slipped it into the woman's purse. He also shook her shoulder to wake her up, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave the baby unattended.

“Sorry for waking you, I just thought…” He said nervously, and awkwardly smiled and waved goodbye to the baby.

“Thank you,” she whispered. And she started to pat the back of her daughter.

He got off the metro happy, and walked the rest of the way to his apartment, the yellow glowing street lights making the falling rain sparkle as it fell to the earth.

He got home and wanted to get some sleep before he had to get up and go to work at nine. He didn’t want to shower and change, he could do that in the morning. He threw a soft blanket across the couch. He sat down, and kicked his converses off of his heels. He laid down, wet hair hitting the pillow. 

***

You walked up the stairs to his apartment. You have twenty minutes until your lunch break is over, but when Garcia told you to check on Reid you knew you had to.  He has a tendency to shut everyone out; say he’s fine when he’s actually far from. He would say he’s fine until he literally exploded. 

You walked past apartment #19, #20, past an empty coffee cup on the floor, #21, then you ran back, picked up the coffee cup, and threw it away at the end of the hall. Apartment #23, you knocked. “Hey Reid, you there?” You tried knocking harder. “Hey kid let me in!” You were about to pound the door down like you were the cops, but you heard a click. Reid unlocked the door, and squinted at you.

“Why,” he cleared his throat a little, “Why are you here?” 

“Hi, it’s 1 in the afternoon, you didn’t show up to work today, and apparently you guys 

had a particularly bad case last night.”

“It’s one?” he said walking back into his apartment, to go find a clock.

You walked in, and straight to his kitchen, to wash your hands after touching that coffee cup. 

“You didn’t purposely not come in today?” 

“No, you’re insistent knocking woke me up.”

“So, you’re wearing your clothes from yesterday?”

“Yeah, I’d gotten home late last night, or actually early this morning, I guess.”

“Are you feeling okay?” You looked at his hair that was sweaty and stuck to his forehead.

“Kinda tired, I guess, but I’m fine.” He said staring off, trying to focus on how he actually felt.

“Here let me feel your forehead.” You reached up and pressed your hand to his face. You couldn’t tell, because you had just washed your hands rendering them cold. You ran your hand through his hair, and kissed his forehead. It was warm. His face turned red, and it came in splotches.

“I think you’re a bit warm. Would you like to try to get to the doctor before they close walk-ins?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then I’m going to go back to the library. I hope you find a good excuse for not going to work today,”  You said, but couldn’t make a move for the door.

“If I don’t go, will you leave?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You look really red, your face felt pretty warm, you slept in your wet clothes last night, and you may try to mask the fact that chills have been making you vibrate in front of me, but there is no way your not sick, no matter how many times you tell me you’re fine.”

“Okay, but I am fine.” He said, arms crossed, before heading to his bedroom to get dressed.

You waited in his apartment, absentmindedly flipped through some of his books. There were stacks of books everywhere; every spot you could fit a book, there was one. Two stacks of books were towered on his coffee table. On top of one was The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath, you hadn’t read it since high school, but you remember it being forward, and a bit unnerving.

Reid’s door opened, startling you. He walked out wearing a striped shirt and a sweater, with his signature mismatched socks and Converse. He looked comfortable, and very childlike.

“Are you ready?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I’ll grab my keys.”

“You drive?” You ask, never having seen him drive, you just assumed he didn’t or didn’t know how. How could you assume there was something that Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t know how to do.

You followed him down stairs to the parking garage, to a 65’ Volvo. “This is your car?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“It’s so cool, I did not picture you driving something like this.” You didn’t picture him driving a cool older car, but you also didn’t picture him wearing mismatched socks, or dressing up for Halloween every year without fail. At this point nothing he did would surprise you.

“You didn’t picture me driving something cool? So, you don’t think I’m cool?”

“Well now I think you're cool, I mean after seeing this car.”

He pressed the volume button to turn on the radio, Tchaikovsky, the universe is restored. It was a ten minute-ish drive to the doctors. He signed in at the front desk, and you went to sit down. There were two seats under a window that you chose. The dark green vinyl was hot from the sun, but it was the only two isolated seats that you could see, other than the two girls that had the seats leaning on the wall. One of the girls had her hand under the other's skirt, and were kissing, very passionately. Hope one of them isn’t sick. You picked up one of the magazines next to you to avert your eyes. Home decorating, not the best option, but the bright colors and Pinterest mom’s will definitely keep you occupied.

Reid walked over to you and sat down, you could see him looking at the girls in the corner, and his face had bright red splotches on his cheeks. “Hey, are you into this?”

“What? No!” he said in a high pitched voice, like that of one of the chipmunks in Alvin and the Chipmunks. “Then why is your face bright red?”

“Maybe because the seats under the window are hot, and you shouldn’t be touching those magazines. They are one of the grossest things in here. Actually, the pen used at the front desk is, it has 46000 times more germs than the average toilet seat. That’s why I bring my own.”

You set the magazine down. “Hey is your face warm, you're still bright red?”

He looked over at you, shrugged at you and did his little awkward smile, and looked back down at the ground, head resting on his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

“Spencer, Spencer Reid!” A woman yelled from the doorway. 

Reid smiled and waved as he stood up.

“Wait, do I come in with you, or should I stay out here and see if I can join a thruple with those two?” He grabbed your wrist, seeing as to not touch your contaminated magazine hand, and helped you up to follow him in.

You guys walked back and the NP asked him to take his shoes off to step on the scale, he stepped up, a lime green sock and one purple striped sock now showing. “153 pounds,” the nurse said.

“Now stand over here so we can get your height,” You picked up his shoes for him, as she guided you across the hall to mark his height. He stood, back against the wall, “Okay, stand up straight.” He rolled his shoulders back and tilted his chin up. “6 foot 1 and ¼ inches”.

You passed his shoes back to him, following the nurse to one of the rooms in the back. You got to sit in one of the chairs that mom’s would sit in and talk for their kids. He hopped up on the bench, with a crinkle of the paper.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said, right before the nurse left the room.

Reid scooted back against the wall, letting his head fall back. You looked over at him, his face still looking flush, and his eyes were closed as he sat there. 

A knock on the door interrupted your observation, but made Reid sit up, attention now focused on the man. “Hi, I’m Dr. Bradman. What brings you in today?”

“I don’t…” Reid said looking over to you.

“His face has been a bit flushed, and he may have a low fever,” You said for him. “Oh, and he was out in the rain and cold last night, I don’t know if that would do anything.”

Reid piped up to say “Actually, being in the rain and cold doesn’t affect whether you will get sick or not. Being exhausted, stressed, under emotional duress, and having allergies with symptoms pertaining to nose and throat are the main reasons people get sick. Other than catching if from someone who is contagious.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” The doctor said, sitting down on a chair with wheels. 

Reid awkwardly smiled, looking down at his hands.

The doctor took Reid’s temperature, asked him a couple questions, and left for a couple minutes. 

You and Spencer sat in the room for a couple moments in silence, he was looking sicker by the moment. And after a while of silence, his head resting on the wall, eyes shut, the doctor walked back in.

“It looks like you are sick, your temperature was raised a bit, and the redness on your nose and cheeks is a common symptom of sixth disease.”

“Wait, that’s roseola, right?” You asked.

“No, that’s only for children under the age of three.” Reid said, slightly perplexed.

“Well yes, but it can occasionally affect adults who’ve never contracted it as a child.”

Reid’s shoulders dropped, “How long will it last?”

“It should clear up in the next three to five days.”

“Okay.”

“You can take medicine to reduce the fever, and stay hydrated.”

You two left the office, but not without teasing him on the way out. “I once babysat a kid that had sixth disease. He was up all night crying, do you need me to babysit you?”

“No! Just because I have a baby disease doesn’t mean I’m a baby” He crossed his arms on the walk back to the car.

“Do you want me to drive, so you can get some rest?” You asked, holding a hand out for his keys.

“Is this another joke?” He pushed his eyebrows together, and cocked his head slightly.

“No; no it’s not.”

“Can you drive a stick?” 

“Uh yeah, actually. I had a truck that was manual in high school.”

He gave an impressed nod and passed his keys over.

On the way home he laid his head against the cool glass of the window. His breath, making water bead up and fall. You walked him up to his apartment, but before you left you wanted to make sure he’d be okay.

“Do you have a thermometer? I just want to see what your temperature is before I leave you.” 

He walked away to his bathroom and came back with a thermometer sticking out of the side of his mouth. He was pouting, you don’t know if it was because you made him check his temperature or if he just felt sick. You pulled the stick out of his mouth after hearing the beep.

“100.3” You put your hands on his face, burning. “Do you want me to stay here for a little bit?”

“You don’t have to…” He said and raised his shoulders to shrug. “I know I don’t have to, but do you want me to? It would be no trouble.” You said walking to his kitchen to wash the thermometer.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“I would like you to stay, please.”

“Okay, why don’t you go to bed and try to rest, and I’ll run to the store and get some food for dinner.”

He nodded, “How long will you be gone?” Reid’s voice broke.

“Not too long, I should be back before you wake up, but if you need me just call me.”

“M’kay.”

You walked out of his apartment, down the stairs, running your fingers across the banister. Should you grab some clothes in case you need to spend the night? Yeah, might as well run home and get the car before going to the grocery store.

At the store you pick up some soup, popcorn to eat while watching a movie, cough medicine, ibuprofen (for the fever), and you couldn’t find any Gatorade, so you bought Pedialyte (I mean it’s the same stuff, and this is a baby disease). You also got a few other things you weren’t sure he had, and headed back.

When you twisted the key into the lock is when you started to hear some slight coughing and some whines in between. So, you put the soup on the stove, and went in to check on him. His face was covered in little red spots that trailed down into his shirt; he was asleep and his hands were balled up into fists by his face. Sweat stuck his bangs to his face, and every cough made him subconsciously whimper. 

Reid was asleep in front of you, looking like a baby. If people didn’t think he was a baby before, if only they saw him now. It’s hard not being able to help him, other than just letting him sleep, but when he wakes up he’ll feel a whole lot worse, so why not prolong the contentment here. 

You decided to go tend to the food, while he slept. In a few minutes though, you heard him get up out of bed and a door slam. You walked over to his couch, leaning on the arm rest waiting for him to come out. A couple moments went by and you were still standing there. If he came out now, it would be like you were just standing there staring at his door waiting for him, which is exactly what you are doing. You went around the couch and sat down, moving the pillows from how he had slept on them that morning. You picked up a book from the top of one stack, and opened it, but his door swung open. Reid stood there, in the doorframe, the sleeves of his shirt pulled down over his hands, his head hung low, and tear streaks down his face. His voice wobbled when he said “I threw up.”

“Are you okay, what do you need?” You asked, looking toward the giant toddler.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Let me check your fever.”

He nodded. You walked over to the kitchen to where you had left the thermometer, and while you’re in there you turn the heat off of the soup. You don’t think he wants it right now.

He puts the thermometer in his mouth and stares at you with puppy dog eyes until it beeps. He takes it out and hands it to you without reading it. “102.4!” You rush over to get some medicine, and a mug to put water in. “Here take this, baby. You must be miserable.”

He closed his eyes and gave a labored smile. Taking the medicine made him wince as he swallowed.

“Why don’t I run you a cool bath, to see if we can get your fever down faster?”

“‘Kay,” he started walking back to his room, stopping to brace himself on the wall.

You wrapped your arm around him, guiding him to his bathroom. You two stood awkwardly for a couple seconds not knowing what the first move was gonna be, but you sat him down on the toilet to wait for the water to fill. You ran the bath with lukewarm water, not hot, but not uncomfortably cold. Reid sat on his toilet, knees hugged to his chest, and his face and body were sweaty. 

You turned off the tap and looked at him quizzically. Reid quickly stood up to usher you out, but got a head rush and had to lean against a wall. You walked to the doorway and waited for his next move. He tried taking his shirt off, but only got one arm out; on the second arm his wrist got stuck on the sleeve. He flailed his arm for a second, before giving up and frustratedly slumping against the wall. You walked over to him, pulled his shirt over his head, and helped pick him up. You put your arms around his waist and pulled him up with little to no help from him. You two stood there for a second, holding Spencer; all of his weight leaned into you as you held him. He was shaking.

You helped him sit on the edge of the tub, and asked “How do we do this?”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” He looked up at you with his big brown eyes.

“Absolutely.”

You helped wiggle him out of his pajama pants, and left him sitting in hot pink briefs. Then, turning around, you heard a little splash of him kicking his legs over, and then a slosh of water displacement.

“Okay, you’re good,” he whispered.

You turned back around and bent down next to the tub. He leaned his head on the edge of the bathtub and you folded up a hand towel and shoved it under for him to use as a pillow. You scooted back, and reached for a washcloth off of his counter. A small stack of them fell on top of you. You picked one up, that hadn’t touched the ground, and ran it under some cold water. After squeezing it out, you sat on the back of the tub, and dabbed it across Spencer’s forehead. He leaned his head against your thigh and looked up at you. You looked down at him, “If I knew I was staying here, I’d have run you a bubble bath.”

He smiled; you could tell his fever was going down a bit. Seeing him without clothes on, showed you just how much of his body was covered in little red splotches. They ran from his cheeks, down his chest, and stopped a little lower than his protruding hip bones. 

A few moments of you silently dabbing his face was interrupted by a coughing attack, leaving Spence shaking a bit. 

“Laying back may not be the best thing for a cough, why don’t we finish up in here so we can sit on the couch, maybe watch a movie or something?”

He nodded.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, it’s wet already from the washcloth,” you handed him the washcloth, and picked up the mug he drank water out of earlier.

“Yes please.” He placed the washcloth over his eyes and you dunked the mug in his bath water. You poured it over his head as he leaned back.

“Where’s your shampoo?”

He leaned forward and handed you the bottle. Johnson’s cotton touch 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash.

“You use 2 in 1 baby shampoo?” 

“It’s for sensitive skin.”

“It’s for babies.”

“If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

“Can we at least buy you some conditioner some time?” You asked, giving him a mohawk with baby soap.

“Sure,” He said, defeated.

You pour the cup over his head again, rinsing his hair clean of soap. You handed him his towel from behind the door, and walked out, leaving the door open a little and sitting on his bed in the next room in case he needed you. In a minute he walked out in pajama pants with little cowboys on them, and a robe. 

You got up, went to his bathroom and brought out a comb. “Sit,” You scolded.

He sat on the edge of his bed, you behind him brushing his hair.

Once you were satisfied with the style, you linked arms with him and went out to the living room. He started moving the books and things off of his coffee table, while you went to go make popcorn. 

You came back with a box of saltines, a bowl of popcorn, and a bottle of pedialyte with a straw in it.

“Is this another joke?” he asked reading the label.

“No, they were out of the other stuff.”

You sat down, handing him the box of crackers. His laptop was open on the coffee table, and he threw a blanket across the both of you to share. 

“What are we going to watch?”

“Star Trek” he said and pressed the spacebar to play it.

“You’ll like it,” he said and put his head on your shoulder. “Hey, thanks for staying with me today.” 

“It’s no problem, I like hanging out with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and eventually we will need to buy you some conditioner.”

“It’s a date,” he said and snuggled closer to you.

You played with his hair until he fell asleep on your lap, leaving you watching Star Trek all night, but you do like it now.

#vicficwriterchallenge #Criminal Minds #reid x reader #spencer reid #dr. reid #spencer reid fanfiction #reid sick fic #criminal minds fanfic

[mldrgrl]

Mulder realizing how much he loooooves kissing scully

Honestly, he realized that before he even kissed her.

A Lot A Lot A Lot

By: mldrgrl Rating: R

(1 - 19)

Sunday is his favorite day now.  It’s the day they’ve agreed upon is theirs to waste and do whatever they want with.  Together.

He always wakes earlier than she does and lets her sleep in.  They’re at his place this weekend and when he rolls over, she’s sprawled adorably across the left side of the bed like a frog, limbs akimbo.  Her hair is mussed, frizzing at her temples and back of the neck from the humidity of last night’s lovemaking.  He can still smell and taste the salty tang of sweat and passion on her skin as he presses his lips to the back of her shoulder.

As gently as he can, he brushes the hair off the back of her neck and puts his lips there as well, branding her cool skin with his warm mouth.  He kisses her between the shoulder blades and then stretches his neck to kiss her cheek before he rolls away and slips out of bed.

He grabs his running clothes and gets ready in the bathroom with the door partially shut only to block the light from waking her.  Before he leaves, he crouches by the side of the bed and nuzzles her neck.  She grunts softly, lifts her fingers and catches his chin.  He kisses her all over the exposed side of her face, whispering to her at the same time that he’s going for a run, to go back to sleep, he’ll be back soon.  She grunts again and he moves back to take her hand and kiss each one of her fingertips.

(20 - 33)

She’s still sleeping when he gets home and he doesn’t feel so bad about waking her now.  She’s curled on her side, hugging his pillow like a teddy bear.  He lays down diagonally across the bed and kisses her bottom lip, repeatedly, until she scrunches her face.

“Mulderrrrrrr,” she groans.

“Hm?” he answers, peppering her face with soft kisses.

“What time is it?”

“After nine.”  He tries to capture her mouth again, but she turns her head.

“Morning breath,” she protests.

“Don’t care.”  He holds the back of her head and manages to snag the upper curve of her mouth.  She scrunches her face again and he kisses the wrinkles at the side of her nose.  “I stopped at the deli on my way home.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Egg and cheese.  With bacon.”

“Mmm…”  Her hand moves into his hair to pull him closer, but he backs off.

“I need a shower.”

“Don’t care,” she whispers, bringing back to her mouth.

He manages a few deep kisses before her stomach growls.  She groans in embarrassment and he chuckles against her mouth.

“Guess you don’t want to keep the egg and cheese waiting,” he says, crawling backwards off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I was serious about the shower.”

“Have breakfast with me and I’ll join you later.”

“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

(34 - 67)

She makes good on her promise and stands naked at his sink, clipping her hair up and off her neck as he adjusts the temperature of the taps of his shower.  He’s first in and she’s just behind him.  She makes soapy circles on his back as he washes his hair.  When he’s finished, she presses herself against him and he presses one hand to the tiles as she slides her hand around his hip and starts to stroke him.  He pulls her other hand up from where it rests on his chest and holds it to his mouth, occasionally sinking his teeth into her palm as he moans in pleasure.

They switch places and then it’s her turn.  He kneels down behind her, apologizing to his knees and at the same time assuring them it’ll be worth it.  He kisses her ouroboros tattoo, licks it from head to tail with the tip of his tongue and she puts both hands on the wall and spreads her legs like she’s about to be frisked.  He kisses her hip, moves lower and sinks his teeth into the plump swell of her right buttcheek.  She jerks in surprise and he sucks the sting of his bite away.  He has her writhing before he even turns around and buries his face between her legs.  

The great care she took to try prevent her hair from getting wet is all for naught.

(68 - 72) She blow dries her hair in her bra and panties as he sits on the closed toilet in his boxers and clips his toenails.  He throws on a pair of jeans and stands behind her, rubbing her hips and telling her about a flea market he thinks they should check out as she applies a thin layer of eyeliner and mascara to her lashes.

“Yeah sure,” she says, shrugging him off her shoulder as he lifts her bra strap and kisses her.  “Stop jostling, I’ll ruin my make-up.”

“You don’t need it anyway,” he mumbles and drags his bottom lip across her shoulder to her neck.

“Just a little.”  She shrugs again and he places a hard kiss in protest to her neck before he lets her go.

(73)

They keep wandering away from each other at the flea market.  Not on purpose, just by nature of browsing.  They always end up in the same place eventually though.  Mulder finds her admiring a glass vase that’s such a dark color of blue that every time she shifts it in her hands it looks purple.

“How much?” Mulder asks the man at the stall.

“Twenty,” he answers.

“I was just looking,” Scully says, setting it back on the shelf.

Mulder already has his wallet out and is passing a twenty dollar bill over to the little stallkeeper that reminds him of Frohike.  The vase is wrapped in newspaper and put in a plastic bag, which he gives to Scully.

“Mulderrrrr,” she says.

“I think vases are the traditional one month anniversary gift.”

She blushes and chuckles at the same time, dipping her chin to hide her face from him, but only for a moment.  “Thank you,” she says, and puts her hand on his abdomen, thumb dipping into the waistband of his jeans as she lifts up onto her toes and gives him a kiss.  He grins at her and slings his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him as they continue to browse.

“I should find something for you,” she says.

“You’re more than enough,” he answers.

(74 - 77)

He pulls over suddenly on the way home and stops abruptly.  

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing.  Be right back.”  

She’s unbuckling her seatbelt, ready to act as backup for whatever situation he’s about to run into, but she quickly realizes he’s stopped in front of a sidewalk florist.  His back is to her, but she can see him pointing and nodding and gesticulating.  He’s back in the car only a few minutes later with a bouquet of white and yellow daisies.

“Can’t let the vase go empty,” he says, as he hands them to her.

She places the flowers on her lap and rests her hand on his cheek as he leans across the seat to kiss her.  Three kisses later, he finally starts the car to keep heading home.

(78 - 100+)

There’s a creature feature marathon on TV, but they’re both drunk on pad Thai and each other and hardly pay attention.  Scully is flat on the couch, her feet in Mulder’s lap, accepting a well-deserved massage as he slouches with his head back and eyes closed.  The vase full of flowers and water and a tab of aspirin that Scully said will help them last longer is sitting on his desk.

“I should go.”  She sighs.

“You can’t.”  He wiggles one foot back and forth.  “I haven’t gotten to a hundred yet.”

“A hundred what?”

“Kisses.”

She raises one eyebrow.  “You’ve been counting?”

“I figure, we’ve known each other for seven years.  I definitely owe you at least one kiss a day for lost time.  That’s 365 times seven.  And plus leap years.  Which is...you know, a lot.  A lot, a lot, a lot.  If I can make it to a hundred every Sunday, maybe, just maybe, I can make up for it.”

“Mulderrrrr…”  She smiles and flexes her toes.  “That’s absurd.”

“It helps that you’re so damn kissable.”

“Oh, am I?”

He stops rubbing her foot and pulls on her calf, sliding her down the couch closer to him and then pulling her up so she’s in his lap.  She wraps her arms loosely around his neck and cocks her head at him.

“How many more do we need?” she asks.

He squints one eye and wrinkles his brow.  “22,” he answers.

“Good thing you’re also so damn kissable,” she replies, taking his face in her hands.  “I intend to surpass that goal.”

“Then, I very much intend to let you.”

He loses count after a hundred and twelve.

The End

#xf fanfic #i wrote this #msr #that new relationship smell #Anonymous

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t do anything. Probably.” (BSD OdaSaku x Reader. Part 1/3)

Title: “I won’t do anything. Probably” Genre: Comedy/Romance/smut Rating: Part 1 is sfw BUT Part 3 will 18+ (aka nsfw) Reader-insert is written as afab/femme/shorter than OdaSaku and 20+ Plot: You are a member of the Port Mafia who has been sent on a “cleanup” job with Oda Sakunosuke, who you have a crush on but won’t admit it. You don’t finish the job until very late at night, at which point, you’re forced to check into a hotel. But there’s just one problem: There’s only one room left. And only one bed.

Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. AO3 link for fic: HERE

Inspired by the [OdaSaku] art of Tsumugi (@tumugi1 on Twitter). I saw this picture and my brain latched onto the whole, “I won’t do anything. Probably.” bit. And wrote a whole fic for it as I was falling asleep on the 24th and amazingly, KEPT writing it when I woke up on the 25th. So, here it is. Call it a belated Xmas gift bc it feels almost like Old Saint Nick dropped it into my head like a filthy piece of coal.

“You’re kidding me.”

The guy at the front desk shakes his head apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles, clearly looking every bit as remorseful as he sounds.

He shoots another nervous look at the gun holstered on your hip before catching himself and quickly looking back into your eyes.

He gulps.

Audibly.

“But there really aren’t any more rooms.”

You sigh and take your arm off of the counter. You’d considered draping it over the receptionist’s monitor in an effort to look more intimidating, but when you’d realized your arms were a little too short for that, you’d settled for the counter instead. Luckily for you, though, that one simple motion had been enough to reveal your gun.

Even now, the receptionist looked like he was going to pee himself, but even though your intimidation attempt had been successful, it still hadn’t gotten you the results you wanted.

Oh, well.

At least Nakahara-senpai would be proud of the way you’d conducted yourself just now.

The man you were with, however...

“Well?” you call out, tilting your head back slightly to look at him. “You heard what he said. What do you think we should do?”

You frown.

“Oda-senpai?”

The tall redhead looks up from his phone at last.

“Well, that depends,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

His sapphire-blue eyes find yours.

“How tired are you?” he asks.

You stop stifling your yawn immediately.

Today was a weird day. Even by your standards. And you were a teenaged runaway who’d gotten picked up by the Port Mafia several years ago.

Ever since that fateful day when you’d made the stupid decision to steal from that convenience store (how were you supposed to know a dump like that was a front for the Port Mafia?), they’d taken you in, given you a place to stay and a purpose. And that purpose was “doing whatever the hell it was they wanted you to do.”

Today, that was one of their infamous “clean-up” jobs.

You’d been on these sorts of jobs before so you didn’t think of it as a big deal at the time. But then they’d handed you the list. Which was a lot longer than it usually was. And then, they’d given you the location.

You hadn’t been sent this far out of Yokohama since that one time Nakahara Chuuya himself had requested you for backup. And even then, it had been an exception. Unfortunately, unlike that time, today’s job wasn’t quick. In fact, it had taken far, far longer than you had expected and you’d ended up working until late into the night.

So late into the night that all the trains back to Yokohama had long since stopped running.

And then it started pouring.

You are now effectively stranded for the night.

You sigh.

There was one bright spot...

You eye the man standing across the lobby, who takes his phone back out one more time in hopes of locating a cell signal.

At least they’d sent Oda Sakunosuke along with you.

“I’m okay,” you say, ignoring the fact that you’d just been yawning not two seconds ago. “Really.”

“Uh-huh,” Oda responds, his bright blue eyes flicking away from his phone once more to scan your face. “So you’re not here to see if you can find a place to rest for the night? You just wanted to get out of the rain until the first train comes?”

It doesn’t quite come across as sarcastic but you’re really not sure what else to call his tone. Humorless, perhaps? It’s hard to tell. Oda is pretty stoic on a normal day and you’ve almost never seen him smile. For one wild moment, you begin to wonder if he’s actually teasing you.

But then you remember you are talking to Oda Sakunosuke.

This is nothing more than a simple, honest question.

He puts his phone away and approaches the counter.

“Either way, walking into this hotel wasn’t a bad idea,” he says, reaching into one of the many pockets in his pale, yellow coat. “I wasn’t exactly looking forward to camping under a bridge in this weather.”

You note the big, muddy footprints his shoes leave in his wake.

The receptionist behind the counter can clearly see them but he looks like he’s still too scared to say anything about it.

Oda leans onto the counter next to you.

“I think we should stay here,” he says. “There’s no way we’re getting back to Yokohama any time soon and besides...”

He lets out a massive yawn. You think you can see a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

“I’m tired too.”

“But you heard what he said,” you press, as the receptionist jerks away from you (and your gun). “There’s only one room.”

“Yeah, so that means there is a place we can take a nap here,” he says, already pulling out his wallet. “And the fact that there’s only one room here means we can save some money. I know what it means for those of us who get sent out on jobs like this.”

He picks out a card.

“It means we can stand to save a few bucks. Anyway, don’t worry about it.”

He lays the slate-gray piece of plastic against the counter.

“I’ll pay for tonight, okay?”

For a moment, you’re struck speechless.

“Th-that’s not the problem,” you stutter.

Oda just looks at you.

“So, then what is?”

You wonder if one of the hits he’d taken on today’s job had actually done something to his brain.

How could he not see it?

Having a man pay for your hotel room was already bad enough. But the implications of a tall, broad-shouldered, sexy man like Oda Sakunosuke paying  for a shared a hotel room with you??

You swallow dryly, hoping against hope that your cell phone wasn’t bugged and that if it was, there was no signal here.

If word got out that you spent the night in a cheap hotel with Oda Sakunosuke, a man who had the kind of rugged charm that would put Clint Eastwood to shame, you would never hear the end of it. You could already see Ozaki Kouyou smirking at you from behind one long pink kimono sleeve the minute you got back to headquarters.

And “I’ll pay for it tonight” he says?!!

As if this whole thing couldn’t SEEM any more suspicious!

You shoot a menacing glare at the receptionist, as if to say “don’t you dare get any ideas.” But the message appears to go right over his head when he sinks just a little further below the counter in abject fear.

“The problem is,” you elaborate, stunned that you even have to say it out loud. “That we’d be sleeping. In the same room.”

Oda continues to just look at you.

“So?”

You make up your mind to ask the Boss to check Oda for brain damage when you get back tomorrow. Mori used to be a doctor, right?

Oda sighs.

“Listen,” he says, sliding his card towards the receptionist, nodding kindly to the young man as if he were a timid baby bird instead of a grown human being. “I know what you’re thinking. And I thought about it too.”

He what?!

Without meaning to, you flush but Oda doesn’t appear to take any notice.

“But it’ll be fine. No matter how you look at it, we’re clearly just a couple of colleagues--”

“Clearly??”

“--who got stranded away from home while out on a business trip,” he finishes, taking his card back from the trembling receptionist. “So, like I said. It’ll be fine. I mean, we’re just sleeping right? We’re both responsible adults. I think we can handle just sleeping next to each other in the same room.”

He looks at you.

“Don’t you?”

You stiffen. Your eyes dart to the key card on the counter that the receptionist is now inching further and further away from. You’d think it was radioactive from the way he was acting...

“I--”

Oda raises an eyebrow.

“Unless...”

Oda inclines his head back towards the windows, where you can now see the rain lashing against the thick glass in the gale.

“You want to camp out under a bridge? Because if you do, I can go with you--”

“No, I definitely don’t,” you tell him, sweeping the key card up in one hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch the receptionist take another step away from you as you move. You roll your eyes.

“Let’s just go. It’s late, it’s raining, we’re both tired and you know what, you’re right. As long as you stay in your bed, on your side of the room, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”

And as you march down the hallway towards the elevators, you suddenly hear the receptionist calling after you.

“Ah, wait!”

The young man suddenly sounds alarmed.

“There’s only--”

“Hah?”

You turn and shoot him a look and he immediately clams up again, quailing behind the counter.

“N-never mind,” he mumbles, twiddling his fingers as he tries (unsuccessfully) not to look at your gun.

He shoots you a watery smile.

“H-Have a pleasant stay...”

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