#also pool noodle fight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jackhues · 6 months ago

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it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race 👀👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

1K notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 5 months ago

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Ride or Die, Remember?

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Despite what happened between Karen and Frank, Lip can't let her go and (Y/N) begins growing tired of it. Another Gallagher sees an opportunity.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of teen-adult relationships (Kash-Ian, Karen-Jody), typical Shameless warnings, brothers best friend trope, some sexual content dontlookatme, minor violence at the end

Plot was too juicy to abandon

~~~

What was it about Karen fucking Jackson that had every guy losing their mind over her?

(Y/N) hardly understood why Lip tripped over himself chasing after a girl who looked like half the rest of the city's population. There were petite, skinny, blonde girls with raging daddy issues everywhere, and yet all he ever spoke about was her. Karen this, Karen that, Karen, Karen, Karen. He missed the old days before she sprung up in their lives, the days when they'd make a quick buck off struggling students and hang out with people apart from the whiny blonde.

Exhaling smoke from his lungs, he pressed the cigarette into the wooden railing of the porch and flicked it in a random direction, the distant sound of honking mixed with the muffled sound of children inside the house filling the air. He checked his phone for the sixth time and still found no new message from Lip. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and pushed himself off the railing, considering finding something better to do than standing around like a fool waiting for him.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Ian's voice greeted him, sweat dripping off his pale face from the sweltering heat of summer. Parts of his shirt had darkened in color from the sweat accumulated across his body, and (Y/N) had long discarded his own in favor of not walking around stinking like shit. Ian's eyes jumped down from (Y/N)'s face to not-so-subtly eye him before he mustered a polite smile. "Waiting for Lip?"

"Apparently." (Y/N) huffed. "He called and when I got here all I found was Debs with like forty kids and Fiona sleeping upstairs."

"You, uh... wanna wait in the pool? It's better than waiting inside with the kids or out here in the heat." Ian offered with a tilt of his head, his smile widening when (Y/N) nodded. Lounging around in water certainly sounded more appealing than melting on a porch waiting for Lip to show up.

Ian opened the front door and they stepped inside, maneuvering around the playing children while Debbie and Ethel tried keeping everyone in check. Ian shed his soaked shirt and tossed it aside into the laundry basket by the washing machine, briefly poking his head into the bathroom by the second staircase to grab two towels before he led (Y/N) outside into the backyard. (Y/N) slipped his shorts off, kicking off his shoes and socks as Ian did similarly.

The water had long been warmed by the sun but it still felt heavenly against his heated skin. Ian laughed at the sigh of relief that left him and hopped into the pool, the splash from his body colliding with the surface spraying over (Y/N). Ian resurfaced and grinned at him mischievously, wiggling his brows in a silent challenge. Arching one of his own, (Y/N) snatched one of the pool noodles floating about and snickered when Ian hurriedly paddled away to get the other one.

It felt nice being able to act like a child instead of having to scramble around pickpocketing or fighting to stay alive. It also felt nice to have someone to be a kid with instead of being dragged around by a pussy-whipped genius who only ever spoke or cared about one single topic. Splashing around and beating each other up with foam toys made (Y/N) reconsider if perhaps he'd chosen the wrong Gallagher to befriend.

Dipping one end of his pool noodle into the water, Ian waited a moment before he lifted it and pointed the end at (Y/N), pressing his lips to the other end and blowing into it to spurt water at him. (Y/N) turned away with a laugh and felt the water land along his back, his arm making a sweeping motion along the surface of the rocking water to return the gesture.

Immediately, another water fight began but it ended just as quickly when Ian grabbed his wrist and held them, a wide grin toying at his lips.

"Looks like all that wannabe soldier shit paid off." (Y/N) said as he wiggled his hands free from Ian's hold. West Point, or so he'd heard, was Ian's goal for the summer. Lip whined about it whenever Karen miraculously wasn't on his mind.

Ian's eyes lit up and he raised his arm out of the water to flex his developing bicep, droplets of water dripping off the muscle. "You think so?" He asked, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"Yeah," (Y/N) snorted and smacked the back of his hand against Ian's stomach. "You've got abs now, kid. Congrats."

"Can't call me kid if you're only a year older, (Y/N)," Ian told him, dropping his arm back into the water and moving closer to press against the pool's wall. He placed his arms along the top and hooked his chin over one to watch him with those dark green eyes. The sun lightened them enough for (Y/N) to spot the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at him.

"Whatever, Carrot Top." (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the ginger and focused on the rippling water. "Are you seriously going to apply? If you do Lip's probably going to end up going with you. He's worried about you. He thinks you're going to get yourself killed and shipped back in a coffin."

"Is that what you think, too?" Ian questioned quietly, a hint of disappointment in his tone. Lip had no doubt made his opinion of West Point and being a soldier loud and clear to his brother, likely numerous times. Lip never gained the ability to take a hint.

"I don't think about you as much as you think about me." (Y/N) flashed him a grin and chuckled when Ian scoffed at his words, his pale cheeks undeniably burning hot. He looked away from him for a moment and then something sparked in his eyes.

"I bet after today you'll think about me more often." Ian cooed, slipping one arm back into the water and reaching out to trace his fingertip over the waistband of (Y/N)'s briefs. A chill jolted down (Y/N)'s spine and he pushed Ian's hand away with an eye roll, some heat rushing to his face. "If you've known I liked you, why haven't you ever done anything about it?" Ian asked, shuffling closer.

"Because until a few months ago you had the face of a twelve-year-old. All cheeks and big eyes." (Y/N) grinned and pinched Ian's cheek, chuckling when he swatted at his hand and gave a soft huff. "Besides, you're Lip's brother, and the siblings of friends are always off-limits. Too much drama. It's not worth fighting or arguing over a quick fuck."

"I could be more than that," Ian argued softly.

(Y/N) hummed forcibly, feeling his body tense and heart squeeze in a less-than-comfortable way. The heat flooding his face and neck felt unbearable and every part of him wanted to snap at Ian to replace the feelings bubbling inside with something familiar. He glanced at the blazing sun over his shoulder, noticing the blue in the sky beginning to turn orange.

"I should get going. I'm not going to sit around waiting for Lip forever." (Y/N) forced out and propelled himself toward the ladder, quickly climbing out and grabbing one of the towels.

"Hey, wait, you can- you can stay for dinner if you want? You should take a shower, too. Nobody should be using it right now." Lip sputtered out, following him out of the pool and hopping down onto the grass beneath. He took the second towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, his brows slightly knitting.

"Fine, I'll take a shower but I don't want to hear shit about the water bill." (Y/N) said and retrieved the clothes on the ground, following Ian back inside where Debbie, Ethel, and Fiona were cleaning up the mess left behind by the children they babysat.

Fiona greeted him with a sweet smile and friendly shoulder squeeze before she returned to the living room and continued cleaning. They took the stairs by the kitchen and Ian checked the bathroom, giving a small nod. (Y/N) muttered a small 'thanks' and stepped inside, setting his clothes aside and turning the shower on. Before he could close the door, Ian pressed his hand against it.

"We, uh... we could save water by showering together, you know. It's a tight squeeze but we could make it work. It'd help with the bill, too." Ian's face reddened, almost matching the shade of his hair. (Y/N) blinked at him, unable to resist the amused smile from appearing on his face. He snorted and brought a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose and tilting his body so Ian could step inside the bathroom.

Ian's features comically brightened and he eagerly slipped inside, shutting the door behind him and letting out an airy, almost surprised laugh. (Y/N) rolled his soaked briefs off himself and tossed them aside, one hand reaching into the shower to feel the warmth of the water before he stepped inside, a sprinkle of smugness slipping through his veins when Ian's eyes tracked him.

The water felt nice against his cool skin and he dipped his head under the running water, feeling the water trickle down his face and chest. He almost flinched when the soap bar was pressed against his back, a gentle hand rubbing the soap against his skin and helping rinse it off with water.

(Y/N) smiled to himself and stepped forward slightly, turning around and tugging Ian under the water. He raised his hands to the short soft hair on his head and trekked his fingers through it, thoroughly washing his hair with a small grin.

"It's nice, right?" Ian asked, stepping back and wiping water off his face. His soapy hands reached down, rubbing along (Y/N)'s sides before his fingers dug into the muscles of his hips. (Y/N) arched a brow, managing to keep his attention focused on Ian's face despite the temptation to glance downward.

"What is?"

"Being taken care of," Ian answered, pulling him forward with ease and pressing his lips into the side of (Y/N)'s neck when their chests pressed together. (Y/N)'s fingers curled around whatever hair he could grasp, a soft sigh leaving him followed by a small chuckle. He felt Ian's arms coil around him, pressing him as close as possible and making both their breaths hitch briefly.

"Ian." (Y/N) murmured warningly, his free hand grabbing the ginger's shoulder and pushing on it weakly. "Lip will be pissed-"

"I don't care." Ian exhaled against his neck, pressing his lips against it again and suckling a light marking on it that made (Y/N) shudder and Ian grin. He trailed quick yet sweet kisses up his neck and jawline until he reached (Y/N)'s lips, lingering over them briefly before kissing him with need. (Y/N) let out a muffled grunt, unused to the feeling of being wanted outside of drunken hookups at parties, but he savored it. Ian knew how to keep a secret, anyway.

There was a mutual giddiness to it; kissing under the shower, touching new uncharted territory, whining and grunting in each other's mouths when one of them grounded their hips together. Ian gave in first, pulling away from (Y/N) with almost swollen lips and a trail of saliva connecting them. (Y/N) gaped at him when Ian lowered himself down onto the floor of the tub, the spray of the water mostly blocked by (Y/N)'s body. A rush of heat shot down to his lower belly and he felt himself flush again, his hand continuing to grip Ian's hair while the other planted itself against the cold tile wall.

Ian's hands roamed his thighs, the water slipping between his fingers as he squeezed whatever fat and muscle he could. He brushed his lips teasingly over his skin, leaving gentle nips behind that had goosebumps rising along his body.

A sharp curse left (Y/N) when Ian's soft lips wrapped around him, pleasure shooting up his spine and spreading through his veins like a wildfire threatening to consume his mind. Ian's eyes jumped up to his face, big and wide and full of mischief and desire. (Y/N) could hardly look at him, unusual for a guy used to things like hookups, but everything felt different with Ian. Too personal. Too emotional.

Part of (Y/N) wanted to reel away, to push Ian away despite the fact his hand pushed against the back of Ian's head and drew him closer. Ian's grip on his thighs tightened, his cheeks burning once again with a fiery red and eyes slowly turning glassy with tears. (Y/N) breathlessly chuckled at the sight and Ian's eyes narrowed, his tongue suddenly pressing flat against him and making (Y/N) curse again.

It was odd, (Y/N) had to admit, having Ian before him in such a state when he spent so much of his alone time with Lip lightheartedly poking fun at the boy's crush.

"How-" (Y/N) swallowed roughly when Ian drew his head back, only to move forward again faster than last time. "How many times have you dreamt about this, huh?"

Ian dug his fingertips into his skin hard enough to leave indents from his blunt nails in response before his hands continued exploring, squeezing and digging into everything they could find. Soft panting, cursing, and the occasional sound of gagging filled the small bathroom, mixing in with the sound of water; soft enough for the house to remain unaware but loud enough for Fiona to grab the door handle then jerk her hand back as if it'd burned her when the noise reached her ears.

It didn't take a while for (Y/N) to fall apart, his legs trembling slightly and his hand tearing itself from Ian's head to slam against the wall before he could topple over. Ian took him as well as he could, nose brushing against the fuzzy hairs growing at the base and eyes crinkled with pride and delight.

He remained there until satisfied and drew back fully, grinning widely at the string connecting his lips to (Y/N)'s most intimate body part. His tongue swiped over his lips and he used the edge of the tub to stand back up on wobbly legs, his knees red from his time kneeling.

"Jesus, Ian," (Y/N) murmured, watching Ian swallow happily before his mouth parted to catch the spraying water, using it to rinse his mouth. He tilted his head away and spat it back out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning in to kiss him again. (Y/N) weakly returned it, one hand removing itself from the wall to grab Ian's hip.

His hazy mind slowly cleared, air properly returning to his lungs and allowing him to steady himself. Ian watched his face with a wide smile, one that disappeared when the hand on his hip cupped him. Ian's head dropped onto (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hips stuttering when fingers wrapped around him.

"Asshole," Ian hissed when (Y/N) gave him a teasing, experimental squeeze.

"Don't bite the hand that feeds." (Y/N) breathed in his ear and felt Ian twitch at his words, his whole body shuddering.

Ian clamped his teeth lightly on (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hands fumbling around the older teen's body desperate to find something to hold onto when (Y/N)'s hand slowly moved. He hardly had any of Ian's kindness; slowly taking his time and watching Ian easily crumble. Ian was surprisingly well-endowed, though he supposed the whole skinny guy joke held some truth to it. Ian's teeth dug harder into his skin when the pace quickened, his hips bucking along with the movements and a trickle of saliva escaping the corner of his mouth.

"Easy, Ian." (Y/N) cooed as Ian practically humped his hand, slowing down his pace and arching his brows at him.

"God, you're a dick." The ginger whined, finally releasing (Y/N)'s shoulder and instead burying his face into his neck, lips mouthing different curses as more whines and sighs escaped him. Once Ian's desperation subsided, (Y/N) returned to the quick pace abruptly and slung his other arm around Ian's waist to keep him from actually crumbling onto the tub. Whether Ian was sensitive to touch or simply sensitive to his touch, (Y/N) enjoyed watching him turn into a breathy, almost blabbering mess.

Ian pulled away from his neck to slam their lips together, teeth nearly clacking together from the force. He let a low, whiny-ish groan against him, his release coating (Y/N)'s thigh and slowly washing away with the water sliding down his body. (Y/N) laughed breathlessly and kept an arm around Ian until he grew steady again before he properly washed himself off and stepped out of the tub.

Tying the towel around his hips, he grabbed his clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, making brief eye contact with an amused Fiona down the hall before turning and entering the boys' shared bedroom. He rummaged through the underwear drawer until he found one of his old pairs and slipped them on, followed by his shorts and the shirt he'd previously tossed aside when he'd first arrived.

Ian slipped inside a moment later, drying himself off before sorting through his clothes and throwing them on while (Y/N) collapsed on his warm bed.

"We should hang out more often." Ian said with a grin, plopping down on the mattress beside him and leaning down to kiss him. "Especially without Lip."

As if on cue, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. "(Y/N)? You here? I got caught up with somethin', I swear." Lip called out into the house, his voice also echoing and bouncing off the walls.

"Speaking of," (Y/N) sighed heavily and peeled himself from the bed, throwing the bedroom door open and making a sharp turn down the staircase into the kitchen.

Ian followed him, taking a sandwich Carl went to bite into and giving his little brother a grin right as he shoved half of it into his mouth and offered it back. (Y/N) snorted at the interaction and shook his head, peering into the living room to find the teen waiting by the first staircase.

"Yo!" Lip greeted without a speck of guilt on his face. It grinded (Y/N)'s gears. "I was thinkin' we should run a background check on Jody to see if any sketchy shit pops up. You know a guy who can do that, right? Anything we find, we show to Karen. He's got to have a couple arrests, maybe we'll get lucky with a restraining order- why are you looking at me like that?"

"'Cause I'm fucking exhausted of your bullshit, Lip." (Y/N) scoffed, shoving past Lip and slamming their shoulders together hard enough for Lip to stagger backward. Lip shot Ian a bewildered look and the two Gallaghers scrambled outside after him.

"What- What are you talking about? Listen, I know I'm a little late but I'll make it up to you, I promise, alright? I just need this favor, okay?" Lip's words only made his eyes roll, his jaw ticking and teeth grinding together. Lip grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him before he could fully leave the front yard, holding onto the sleeve of his shirt. He stared at him, his chest slightly heaving before his jaw clenched. Ever the short fuse. They were birds of a feather, the both of 'em. "Why can't you do this one thing for me, (Y/N)? Is it because of Karen? Because I'm in love with her and not you?"

(Y/N) nearly went jaw-slacked at his words, brows raising and eyes slightly widening. He could only stare at him in silence, the sneer he'd said it with feeling like a stab to the gut. It seemed as if all at once, the love, care, and awe he'd once held for the teen since the third day of first grade evaporated, replaced with bitterness and hurt. His brows dropped back into place and his head leaned back, a hum escaping his throat.

"Is that what it is? You're pissed I'll never like you like that? That- what? I'll never be the Kash to your Ian? I love Karen. It will always be Karen, and the second you get that through your fucking skull, shit will go back to normal." Lip released him roughly, regret seeping into his vibrant eyes already, but pride never allowed him to apologize, not to anyone.

"You..." (Y/N) laughed, and it felt as if a fog had lifted and the rose-tinted glasses had slipped off. "You are pathetic, Lip. Jesus Christ, you're a fucking loser. How come I never realized that shit? You're just a pussy whipped dickhead who acts like a dog in heat whenever Karen's around. I mean, shit. That's... that's so fucking depressing. You follow her around like a little kicked puppy, lapping up whatever seconds the guys at school and Jody leave for you. You're Karen's little bitch and you don't even realize it."

Lip's eyes lit ablaze. "And what the fuck does that make you, huh? Everyone already knows you're my bi-"

Before the words could leave his mouth, (Y/N)'s fist connected with his cheekbone, and he fell to the pavement with a groan. (Y/N)'s instincts told him to kick him next, to kick his stomach, his groin, his face. His genes begged for violence, urged him to get the job done by breaking a bone or leaving him bloody; and despite every part of him wanting to do so, he swallowed down the rage as best he could. He took a deep inhale and slammed his foot into Lip's side, the force pushing Lip back onto the grass and out of his way. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.

"Go fuck yourself, Phillip. You want to chase after some ran-through bitch for the rest of your life, be my guest. I don't need you fucking up my year and making me look like I give a shit about some pathetic little boy toy." (Y/N) spat down at him and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"I'll see you around?" He stopped at the sound of Ian's voice, tilting his head over his shoulder to look at him as he crouched down by Lip's withering body. Lip coughed and clutched his side, his brows furrowing and eyes flickering between the two. (Y/N) felt a fluttery feeling develop in his stomach.

"Yeah," He grinned. "Definitely."

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fkinkindagauche · 3 months ago

Text

Beware the Suburban Lamprey

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2 prompt "bruise".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1085 | CW: possessive behavior | Tags: hand jobs, a truly overwhelming number of hickeys

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when his situation with Steve had started. He’d definitely grown fond of the man during the Vecna ordeal, and in the aftermath when Steve had helped him get to and from a million appointments without ever seeming put-out. The other feelings, though. The sexy feelings. Those had crept up seemingly overnight, and were much more difficult to handle.

Steve certainly wasn’t making it any easier on him. It was summer, and Steve had taken to inviting everyone over to his pool, spending the entire time laying on a lounge chair with the world’s shortest swim trunks on. Steve had also been increasingly invading Eddie’s personal space. It seemed like he was always finding some way to touch Eddie - fingers brushing as he handed him a soda, hair brushing Eddie’s shoulder as he leaned over to see what Eddie was drawing, hand on Eddie’s waist steadying him when he nearly tripped on a rogue pool noodle.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. He seemed to be flirting with Eddie. Which was really throwing Eddie for a loop, because he could have sworn Steve was the straightest of straight boys. It had gotten so blatant, though, that Eddie couldn’t ignore it. Steve had literally been batting his eyelashes at Eddie while sucking on a popsicle suggestively yesterday. Eddie felt like he’d stepped straight into the Twilight Zone, the only possible explanation for someone like Steve pursuing him.

Today was even worse than usual. He felt like Steve was staring daggers into him the entire time he’d been playing a rousing game of chicken fight with some of the kids. He kept raking his eyes over Eddie’s body from where he was perched in his chair. As far as Eddie knew, his body was still the same scrawny, pale body with a few mediocre tattoos it had always been, and he wasn’t sure why Steve was trying to burn a hole into it with his stare. After a few rounds of chicken fight, he really couldn’t take it anymore. He retreated into the house, ostensibly to use the bathroom, but really just to get a breather from Steve’s gaze.

He came out of the bathroom and ran directly into Steve. He squeaked and backed up into the bathroom again as Steve advanced, closing the door behind him. He looked almost angry, eyes repeatedly flitting to Eddie’s neck.

“Hey, man. Everything alright?” Eddie asked, voice cracking a little.

Steve didn’t say anything, just kept walking Eddie back until Eddie felt the counter against his back and Steve pressed his chest against Eddie’s chest. Then Steve leaned forward and kissed him.

Eddie let out a startled noise. He had thought Steve was about to yell at him, not kiss him. Steve pressed hard against his lips, and Eddie opened his mouth, his body responding even though his brain had stalled, letting Steve lick past his lips. Steve pressed his hips into Eddie’s and Eddie could feel Steve’s cock hardening against his. He moaned into the kiss and Steve took the chance to press his tongue deeper into Eddie’s mouth, tangling with Eddie’s own.

Steve pulled away for a second to ask, “Do you want me to keep going?”

Eddie nodded, too vigorously to maintain any level of chill. “Yes, please.”

Steve kissed him again, hard, with teeth and tongue and very little finesse, honestly. He seemed hungry for Eddie in a way Eddie would not have expected. He pulled away from Eddie’s lips and trailed kisses down his jawline, heading for his neck. As he started to suck a painful but exhilarating bruise onto Eddie’s neck, he also stuck his hand into Eddie’s swim trunks.

Eddie gasped as Steve’s hand closed around his cock, stroking him. Steve kept sucking bruises into his neck and collarbone and shoulder, but Eddie was too far gone to spare more than a moment of worry about how he was going to look after this.

Eddie fumbled for the waistband of Steve’s trunks, but Steve batted his hand away, pulling his own trunks down enough to free his cock. He shifted so that he was holding both his own and Eddie’s cock, lined up next to each other, then briefly reached over Eddie toward the counter.

When his hand returned Eddie could see a dollop of lotion in the palm, and then Steve started to jerk both of them off in one hand. Eddie watched, enraptured, then moved a hand down to join in. Steve didn’t bat it away this time. Eddie could feel an orgasm building embarrassingly fast as Steve lowered his head to Eddie’s chest, sucking even more bruises into his skin over his pecs.

Steve took Eddie’s nipple into his mouth and bit down, and that was enough to send Eddie over the edge. He came into their hands, Steve following not long after. They stood there for a moment breathing heavily. Steve pushed away eventually, grabbing a hand towel to wipe the cum off of their hands and cocks.

He looked up at Eddie with a satisfied smirk as his eyes ran over Eddie’s neck and shoulders. “Show those to whoever gave you that one,” Steve said, pointing high up on the left side of Eddie’s neck.

“What?” Eddie asked, completely confused. Steve turned him around to face the mirror, and he was stunned by the sight of innumerable bright red marks that would doubtless turn into bruises in a few hours. Steve pointed to an already formed bruise on Eddie’s left, standing out from the brand new marks.

Eddie laughed and turned to face Steve. “That’s from a vacuum cleaner,” he said. “Gareth stuck it to my neck while I was asleep on his couch.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “You mean that’s not a hickey?”

“No, it’s not a hickey. Oh my god, were you jealous?” Eddie asked, delighted.

Steve looked chagrined. “Maybe. A little. I’ve been trying to get in your pants all summer, and then you show up with that? I think I might have gotten carried away.”

“You think?” Eddie said, turning back to the mirror. “You’ve definitely staked your claim over Gareth’s mom’s vacuum, big boy. I look like I’ve been mauled by a lamprey.”

Steve blushed. “Can this lamprey take you on a date to make up for it?” Steve asked, and Eddie turned back around, smiling.

“Absolutely.” Steve leaned forward to kiss him again, and Eddie decided he would worry about how to cover up all these marks later.

#steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #my fics

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incorrectbatfam · 11 months ago

Note

Can I ask for how the Goons meeting the Wayne's as civilians would go? Neither know each other's... extracurricular activities. Do they get along?

[Gotham University]

Professor: The average on the last test was 76 but since some where able to get 100, I will not be curving the grades.

Other student: Man, someone's always wrecking the curve.

Booker, who got 100: My bad.

Steph, who also got 100: Also my bad.

———————

[Discord voice chat]

Barbara: So Luke, Helena, and Bette weren't the imposters. That still leaves five of us. I'm gonna go back to the control room. Nobody better follow me.

Mac, the imposter: *follows her*

———————

Gene: Excuse me, do you know the directions to the nearest bioweapons storage?

Tim, scrolling through his phone: Down the road, take a left.

Gene: Thanks!

Tim: *pauses*

Tim: Hold on a second—

———————

[Gotham High School]

Teacher: For your next project—

Duke, rushing in after a fight: Sorry I'm late! I, uh, forgot my backpack.

Teacher: Just take a seat, Mr. Thomas. As I was saying—

Duke: *sits at an empty lab table*

Milo, walking in with a black eye and coffee: Morning, Miss K.

Teacher: Sit down, Mr. Carr. I'll talk to you after class. Now for the project...

Milo: Yo, this seat taken?

Duke: Be my guest.

Teacher: Here is the rubric and the person next to you will be your lab partner.

Duke, looking at Milo: Haven't I seen you somewhere?

Milo: I have one of those faces. Anyway, since we're lab partners, how do you feel about blowing stuff up?

Duke: I'm down.

———————

[on the side of the road]

Otto: Stupid piece of junk, always picking the wrong time to conk out on me.

Dick, pulling over: Need a hand?

Otto: You don't happen to have any jumper cables on you, do ya?

Dick: As a matter of fact, I do. It's a funny story, actually. It all started when I was a child. Back in my day...

———————

Molly: *leaves the bathroom*

Cass, tapping her shoulder: You forgot something.

Molly: Oh, right.

Molly: *picks up her drug stash*

———————

[at a bar]

Jason: Uh... would you quit staring at me. It's weird.

Kellin: You were ranked one of the Top Ten most attractive men this year according to the Gotham Gazette.

Jason: Yeah, I was.

Kellin: I don't see it.

———————

Harper: *dumpster diving for parts*

Blaise: *dumpster diving for things to burn*

Harper: *hands him a newspaper*

Blaise: *hands her a wrench*

———————

[at the pool]

Rob: So which one's yours?

Bruce: The one swinging the pool noodle. You?

Rob: The ones behind him with water balloons.

Bruce: I'm going to get another drink. Would you like one? It's on me.

Rob: Sure, why not?

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mirage-aera · 7 months ago

Text

•°. *࿐ Pool noodles || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Latch - Disclosure, Sam Smith

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: A trip to the local grocery store to stock up on food and other necessities, turns into a play fight with foam sticks.

Word count: 1.002

Masterlist

A little different from my usual fandoms that I write in. But I wanted to dabble a little in here since I wanted to write a little for my favourite hockey boys :)

You and Jack are on a mission. It’s off-season, meaning it’s time to relax and recharge during the long summer and spend some good quality time together. In previous years you would always go to the family’s lake house, to spend some time with family and friends. This year it won’t be any different. Except this time, you’ll be there together with Jack a lot earlier than the others. They’ll be arriving a few weeks later. This means you get Hughes Michigan’s summer home for yourselves. At first, it seems like a great thing. You get to spend time alone with Jack, without any nosy brothers or friends to tease you both. That was until you looked in the fridge, almost completely empty. Clearly whoever’s been here last hasn’t refilled the fridge, or other necessities for that matter. Which leaves that task to the two of you, much to Jack’s dismay.

You find yourself at the local grocery store. Jack’s pushing the cart like the gentleman he is. Except, he’s slouched over as he pushes it. “Are we done yet?” You don’t even know how many times you’ve heard him utter that in the past 15 minutes. You sigh as you look at the grocery list you’ve made on your phone. “Jack. I love you, but please. You’re worse than a cranky hormonal teenager.” You retort. He looks at you, almost as if he’s offended by what you said. “I’m not a cranky hormonal teenager.” He mutters under his breath. You bite back a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say hon.” You quip while you put the last of the fruits and vegetables in the shopping cart. He opens his mouth, probably to say something full of sass back. You shush him by placing your finger over his lips. “Come on. We’re done here.” He huffs in response. “Finally.” He mumbles. You give him a pointed look before moving on to the next part of your shopping list. You walk over to the meats and fish. Jack trails behind you, begrudgingly pushing the cart.

You glance over the various fish and meats they have. “What do you want to eat for the time being?” He points to the steak, chicken, and salmon. You nod, pick a few that look good, and toss them into the cart. He groans when he sees it messes up the organized cart. “Baby, please. Everything has a place in the cart. You know this.” He scolds lightly while fixing the mess you made. You grin sheepishly. “Sorry sorry, won’t do it again.” He shakes his head but smiles. You both know this won’t be the last time, not by a long shot.

You cross off meat and fish on the list and make your way to the dairy products. While you grab a carton of milk, Jack grabs some yogurt and puts it neatly in the cart. He takes the carton of milk from you and puts it next to the yogurt. You grab some eggs that lie nearby and move on to get the rest of the list.

You stock up on some toilet paper and other necessities. You also remember to grab some pretzels for him, knowing he likes to snack on them. Jack’s still trailing behind you with the cart that’s gradually getting fuller. As you walk around like a busy bee, you walk past some pool noodles. You look at them for a solid minute. Jack raises an eyebrow. “Do you want them?” He asks curiously. You think about it for a moment. You grab one and look it up and down. You glance over at Jack. Without warning, you smack his arm with it. It doesn’t hurt, it’s made out of foam. He flinches and rubs his arm. “What was that for?” He asks. You shrug and smirk. “Just wanted to test it out.” He scoffs and laughs. “Really? Just wanted to test it out?” He repeats. He grabs one as well and hits you back. He smirks, “it does work well. Don’t you think?” He teases you. You roll your eyes but smile. You swing to hit him again. He blocks it with his own noodle. You’re locked into a stare-down with him. “Noodle fight?” You challenge him. “Noodle fight.” He takes the bait. You look around to make sure no one is paying attention to you both. When you see no one’s looking at you, all hell breaks loose.

You start relentlessly swinging. He blocks most of your ‘attacks’, even if they hit, he doesn’t feel a thing. The aisle gets filled with your combined laughter and the faint sound of foam being smacked around.

He gets a few good hits on you. Your face scrunches up every time he lands one on you. His heart melts at the sight of you. You could be doing the most mundane tasks together, yet you’ll still find a way to bring a smile to his face. You know how to make doing chores fun. Maybe he’s just completely in love with you. Whenever people make fun of him for being completely whipped for you, he would usually give them sass back. But if someone were to do it right now, he would most likely agree with them. Nothing is certain, especially in his life. However, there is one thing for certain. He wants to marry you one day, he simply doesn’t see a future without you and your signature laugh in his life.

You let out a boisterous laugh when you smack him across the face with the piece of foam. He can’t help but let out a laugh himself. Yeah, this is the girl he wants to marry and have a future with. And he doesn’t want it any other way. The velvet box is already sitting underneath all of his old hockey gear. Waiting to be presented to you. All he has to do is plan the perfect proposal for you. He simply can’t wait to make you his, until death do you part.

#hockey #nhl #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #blurb #drabble #fluff

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marvelslut16 · 1 year ago

Text

The Flu

Prompt number: 22 "Who takes care of you?"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Age gap relationship. Dbf. Swearing. Boss and employee.

A/N: A few hours late for day 4, but I was a busy woman today. Aaron and Jack never go into the witness protection program, they catch Peter Lewis right away.

The job was just supposed to be temporary, one to help you get back on your feet after dropping out of school, and you got to help your long time infatuation Aaron Hotchner now that Jess was moving out of state. It was a win win in your eyes, and it got your dad off your back. But that was almost two years ago now, and there was no end in sight for your current arrangement as Jack’s live in nanny.

The one flaw in your logic was how drop dead gorgeous your boss is. Not that that is new information, you’d been drooling over him since you were sixteen when you saw him shirtless at a backyard/pool party your dad threw. But now it’s so much worse, because he’s so sexy doing all of his mundane tasks. Making coffee at five in the morning with bedhead? Sexy. Making dinner in one of his tight white dress shirts when he gets home from a case early? Still sexy. Dressed down in casual clothes coaching Jack’s soccer team? The most sexy.

As you lament, yet again, to your best friend over text about how unfairly hot Aaron Hotchner is, the front door opens. As if he knew you were talking about him, he enters the house with a thud having dropped his go bag by the front door. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where you are, and when he does you finally notice how miserable he looks. His dark hair is slicked to his forehead, his face pale- except for his cheeks which are bright red, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Aaron! Are you okay?” your voice raising an octave, you rush over to him and guide him to one of the barstools in front of his large island.

“I’m fine, the team overreacted and sent me home,” he almost sounds convincing, until he finishes the sentence with a loud sneeze.

“Awww,” you rub your hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Did Jackers give you the flu?”

“No,” he argues, and tries to quietly sniffle.

“That’s it, straight to bed young man,” your hands resting on your hips as you tell him the same thing you told Jack a week ago when he came home from school with the flu. “While you take a nap I’ll make you some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“It’s fine (Y/N), you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of making my own lunch,” he looks like a petulant child, his hands balled in fists also resting on his hips.

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you Aaron?” you ask, becoming annoyed that he keeps fighting you. “Six months ago when you were in the hospital, that’s when. And then you still fought it tooth and nail. Who takes care of you?”

“I can take care of myself,” he starts coughing as a result of lowering his voice in order to use his boss voice. A voice he only ever uses on you when you try to care for him too.

“You want to go back to work again soon right?” he nods. “So just listen to me. Take some Tylenol and go lay down. Please let me make you some soup.”

He finally relents and heads upstairs to bed, but not before you get him a large glass of water. Thankfully you were planning on making chicken for dinner, so you already have some thawing. You waste no time and start cooking the chicken in one pot, then you chop the vegetables. After the chicken has been shredded and the soup is simmering, making the whole house smell delicious, you sneak upstairs to check on your patient.

You’re happy to see that he’s laying in the middle of his bed bundled up in his sheets with little snores escaping him.Despite him being sick, he still looks far more at peace and relaxed in this moment then he has since you met him back when he was still a prosecutor. After a few minutes of taking him in, you head back to the kitchen and toast and butter bread to go with his soup. The soup is done ten minutes later, and you ladle a nice heaping bowl for him.

You trek back up the stairs, walk into Aaron’s room and stand beside his bed. You’ve woken him up a bunch of times when he falls asleep watching movies with you and Jack or when he falls asleep at the island going over paperwork for work, but this feels different. You’re in his bedroom, you’re boss’ bedroom. Overcoming your nerves you reach forward and gently shake his shoulder, he wakes with a start whipping his hand to grasp your wrist in a bruising grip.

“Aaron,” you startle, he doesn’t register that you aren’t a threat in his half asleep stupor. “It’s me, it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he snaps out of it, face contorting into a frown when he sees his white knuckled grip around your wrist. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you smile lightly, rubbing your wrist when he finally lets go. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“It’s my fault,” he argues, sitting up and leaning against his mahogany headboard. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the case at work before I fell asleep, I must have dreamt about it.”

“It’s fine Aaron, I just wanted to let you know the soup is done, there’s a bowl cooling on the island for you,” you smile as you slowly back out of his room, suddenly feeling like you’re intruding.

Aaron doesn’t say anything else, so you slip out of the room and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Aaron joins you a few minutes later, wrapped tightly in his blue robe Jack picked out for him for Christmas last year. Aaron lets out an involuntary moan after taking a spoonful of soup, and you clench your thighs together at the delicious sound.

“This is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had,” Aaron says once he’s scarfed down half of his bowl.

“You hate chicken noodle soup,” you giggle, remembering the cute way his nose crinkled in disgust when that was the only soup at some fancy restaurant the team and their families went to last year.

“Not this one!” he shovels in another spoonful.

You give Aaron another helping of the soup, glad that he’s eating and hydrating himself, before putting the rest into a container and into the fridge. You have just enough time to wash the pot and counters before heading to pick Jack up from school.

“I’m gonna head out and get Jackers in a few minutes,” you tell Aaron as he starts sneezing again. “Once you finish that, go lay back down and drink lots of water.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs thinking you won’t be able to hear him. But you do, and you glare at him for his childish antics. He finally relents, “okay.”

The drive to get Jack isn’t very long, but after the whole Peter Lewis fiasco, Aaron won’t let Jack walk home or ride the bus. And you don’t blame him. Your dad told you about Jack getting stalked during one of your weekly phone calls while you were away for school, you were rattled for the Hotchner’s.

“(Y/N)!” Jack comes running at you when he sees you, you bend down and scoop him into your arms and carry him to the car. You’ll never get tired of how excited he gets to see you when you pick him up, it’s the same happy reaction every day.

“How was school buddy? Get all the homework you missed last week when you were home sick?” you bombard him with questions as you unlock the car.

“It was great! We got to play soccer in gym today and I scored three times!” Jack wiggles in excitement before you set him back on the ground.

“That's great buddy!” you smile at him as he slips into his seat.

“Yes I got all of my make up work,” he pouts once you get into the driver's seat. “Lots of fractions, and you know how much I hate those.”

“I’ll tell ya what, you do one of your math worksheets and then we can make your dad a get well soon card,” over your time with the Hotchner’s you’ve learned that bargaining is how to incentivise the both of them. “He came home from work early with the flu.”

“Dad’s home?” Jack start’s to excitedly bounce in his seat, happy that he’ll get to spend more time with his favorite person.

“Yeah, but just remember that he’s not feeling his best so he won’t be able to do a lot,” a bittersweet smile crosses your face, it’s not fair that they don’t get to spend more time with one another. It’s not fair that Aaron has to sacrifice his personal life to make the world a better place for everyone else.

When you walk in the door you're greeted with the sight of Aaron bundled up on the couch under three blankets, the news playing quietly on the TV. Jack gives his dad a big hug before scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a snack and start his homework. You walk up to the lump on the couch that was once Aaron and reach your forearm forward to feel his forehead, and sure enough he’s much warmer than he should be.

“I don’t feel good,” Aaron whines, making the same pouty face Jack made all last week. “Everything aches.”

“I know sweetheart,” you let the term of endearment slip without thinking, too focused on trying to comfort Aaron. “You have a fever, you need to drink lots of water and get out from under those blankets.”

“No,” he huffs, clutching onto his blankets like he needs them to live. “I don’t have a fever, it’s just cold in here.”

“Aaron it's seventy two degrees in here, it’s not cold. You need to take the blankets off, it’ll only make it worse,” he shakes his head sinking further into the couch. “Fine, if I go grab the thermometer and it says you have a fever, I’m taking both of your blankets into the kitchen with me while I help Jack with his homework.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you head to the upstairs bathroom where you had checked Jack for a fever this morning before school. When you get back to him, Aaron has sunk further down into the couch and cocoon of blankets trying to hide from the thermometer in your hand. You eventually get it in his mouth and sure enough he has a one hundred one degree fever.

“Hand over those blankets,” you reach your hand out for them, and he reluctantly gives them to you. “Now drink some water and watch the news. And no more blankets!”

You help Jack with two math worksheets before he remembers your deal, and demands you make a card. He decorates the printer paper in every color marker and tops it off with those marker stamps you got him for his birthday. Jack even makes you sign your name on the card.

“Is this for me?” Aaron coughs and sits up when Jack thrusts the card in his face. “Aww thanks buddy, I love it!” Jack sits on the couch with his dad for a few minutes, but after seeing the news is on he gets up and leaves.

“You feeling up for dinner?” you ask Aaron, when Jack heads back to finish some more homework. “It’s too late for me to make something, is there any take out you want?”

“Happy Meal!” Jack yells from the kitchen

“You heard the little man, we’re having McDonalds tonight,” Aaron smiles at you as you grab your keys and call Jack to come ride with you.

The rest of the night is stress free, Jack actually listens to you when you tell him it’s time to shower and get ready for bed, all because his dad is sick and doesn’t want to make it worse. Well it’s stress free where Jack is concerned, you still have to deal with the full grown baby you call your boss.

“Time for bed Aaron,” you tell him after you’ve dried Jack’s hair and read him to sleep. “I know you don’t want to but you need to get your rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he says, even though he grabs your hand when you hold it out to him, you pull him out of his chair and lead him up the stairs and to his room

“Now take two more Tylenol and go to sleep,” he reluctantly takes the pills out of your hand and throws them back dry.

“There, are you happy?”

“I’m ecstatic,” you deadpan, moving to fluff his pillows for him.

“Thank you,” Aaron catches your gaze when he speaks, making sure to hold it.

“It's my job,” you dismiss his praise, not wanting to let yourself think about it too much and read too deep into it.

“No it's not, you always go above and beyond for us, for me,” Aaron gently catches the wrist he squeezed earlier making a mental image of the faint bruise marring your skin, and vowing to never let the world hurt you.

“Aaron,” your breath catches at the delicate ghosting of his fingertips on the inside of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning forward and now it’s his lips ghosting over your wrist. You swear your heart stops when he pushes down harder, leaving a trail of kisses around your wrist.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, the last thing you want is for him to stop, but you also need to make sure he’s in his right mind when doing this.

“Kissing you,” the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly, like they’re said all of the time. His mouth travels up your arm and he’s kissing the sensitive crook of your elbow.

Aaron pulls you down next to him in bed, quickly scooping you up and cradling you in his arms. You're at a loss for words, your dream is coming true. Aaron Hotchner actually wants you as much as you want him, and it isn’t a dream. When you’re lost in thought his lips descend on yours, and soon you get lost in him instead. There’s no rush to your kiss, just a slow languid strokes of his tongue twining with yours. It’s the perfect first kiss, there’s a heat to it, but no sense of urgency to get it over with.

“(Y/N), you have my heart,” Aaron admits breathlessly, arms wrapping around you tighter. “I know it’s wrong for many reasons, but you made my heart beat again. You love Jack and you’re wonderful with him. He loves you. I love you. You take care of me even though you don’t have to, you are the most amazing person. You’re perfect for Jack and me.”

“You have my heart too, I love you too,” you grip his chin and pull him in for another kiss. “You and Jack are everything to me, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, here with the two of you. I never want to lose this, lose you.”

“You won’t,” he kisses you one more time before pulling away completely. “But you should probably go to your own room now, wouldn’t want you to get sick from sleeping with me tonight.”

“I was home with Jack all last week, I’m fine. Plus it’s probably better I stay in here and keep an eye on you,” he smirks, kissing you one last time before resting his head on your chest.

The rest of the week is wonderful, Aaron still argues with you when you try to take care of him, but when Jack’s at school you two let the facade down. You cuddle with him and kiss him whenever you walk past him, making out on the couch like you’re two horny teenagers. Before you know it, it’s Sunday and Aaron is feeling better so he has to go into work in the morning. As the two of you say goodnight to Jack you start sneezing and the sniffling you’ve had all day rears its ugly head.

“I told you not to sleep with me,” Aaron teases you after you close Jack's door, pulling you with him and back into his room.

“I’m fine,” your arguing falls short as you start sneezing again.

“I think the team can do without me for another case,” Aaron smiles as you slip into bed with him. “I need to be here to take care of you now.” Who would have thought the flu would be what finally got you two together?

#fictober23 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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pickingupmymercedes · 9 months ago

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Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.”

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks.

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #ayrton senna #Senna!reader

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writethrough · 2 years ago

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Life Guard

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: It's the middle of summer and everyone decides to go to the pool. You don't know how to swim, but at least Billy's on duty.

Warnings: Language, almost drowning, protective Billy

Word Count: 3169

A/N: Here's that protective Billy fic I was talking about! Also, is the title cheesy? It's definitely cheesy. Should I change it? And I just had to use this gif. I mean, look at his back!

The hottest day of the year meant one thing: pool day. Everyone had agreed to meet there after picking up their assigned children.

“I’m pretty sure this is what Hell feels like,” Erica said after closing her door.

You chuckled and agreed, pulling out of the Sinclair driveway.

“You both brought your sunscreen, right,” you asked, looking in your rearview mirror at Lucas and Erica.

They nodded.

“Good. Max?” You glanced toward her before turning back to the road.

“Do you really need to ask?” She tugged gently at her hair.

“Just checking,” you said. “I have extra if anyone needs it.”

It didn’t take you long to reach the pool. When you arrived, Steve, Robin, and Dustin were already there.

You caught the last second of Steve cannonballing and splashing Dustin when Robin waved you all over.

“Finally! The testosterone was becoming too much!” Robin said, dramatic as ever.

“Have you been here long?” You set your bag beside the lounger and took a seat. Max, Lucas, and Erica didn’t waste any time jumping in.

“Ten whole minutes,” she whined, making you chuckle.

“Then it’s a good thing I got here when I did,” you said, grinning.

You relaxed into your chair after slipping your sandals off. The umbrella provided enough coverage to keep the sun off you. It was as cool as you were going to get out here.

Not knowing how to swim certainly put a damper on things during the summer months, but it was never something you were in a rush to learn. For you, summer meant working and saving up for college, not hanging out at the pool—one of the many reasons your friends insisted you come with them. They all knew you couldn’t swim. They also knew a public pool wasn’t the most conducive to learning, but you knew it’d be fine. Robin and Nancy would sit and chat with you anyway. The boys and the kids were the ones who took full advantage of the water.

“So,” Robin grinned, leaning in closer, “who do you think's gonna get water up their nose first?”

You tapped your chin as if in serious thought. “Dustin.”

“I was thinking the same.” She nodded as if you had concluded an important meeting.

Said child seemed to be having a race with Steve and Lucas toward the deep end while Erica and Max were leaning on pool noodles and laughing.

Faintly, a lifeguard’s whistle was mixed with shrieks of joy and splashes. The piece of metal fell to the guard’s exposed chest. Your eyes trailed along his strong shoulders and neck to land on his face.

Billy.

The heat in your cheeks was no longer from the weather.

Your friendship with Billy Hargrove was unexpected, to say the least. His friendship with the rest of your group—even more so. Fighting an interdimensional monster would do that to someone.

He’d changed a lot since last summer. Fortunately, it was for the better. It was obvious in the way he handled his job here. Billy had ruled the pool with an iron fist before. Now, he was less severe. You’d been here a few times already this summer, and not once had he threatened banishment to some too-excited kid who disregarded the safety rules.

You clocked the scars along his abdomen.

It had taken months of reassurance and support for him to take his shirt off. Before then, you never would have described Billy as insecure, but the Mind Flayer stole so much from him. You were just thankful it wasn’t worse. Joyce had closed the gate right on time.

Now, he sat in his chair with his shoulders back, relaxed, and surveyed the area like he used to.

Though he wore sunglasses, you knew he was looking at you when his head stopped in your direction.

You gave him a small smile and a little wave, and he answered with a flirty smirk of his own.

“Get a room,” Robin groaned. “You’re both ridiculous!”

You playfully swatted her.

She’d known for a while now how you felt about Billy. She had caught you staring a little too long, then at a sleepover, made you spill. And it brought you such relief to tell someone.

“C’mon, you’ve been flirting for months!”

“You know he flirts with everyone,” you said.

“Not since what happened,” she countered. “And I know you’ve noticed it, too.”

You had, but you were sure it was just because you'd been there. He had no reason to hide from you. And that gave him the space to be himself again. It’d only be a matter of time before he was chatting up one of the women strutting by his tower trying to get his attention.

She sighed. “All I’m saying is, I think you should give it a chance.” She poked your arm. “You have chemistry, and I know you’d be good together.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

She stood, stretching. “Anytime. Now, I’m gonna get something from the vending machine. Any requests?”

“Whatever you’re getting.”

She nodded, walking toward the machines.

You pulled out your book, determined to finish it before you left the pool. Or before Billy got off his shift.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Dustin called. “Can you bring me my goggles?”

“Sure!” You scooped them up from the edge of Robin’s chair and walked over to him. “Here”

“Thanks.” He gave you that smile you loved.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, looking around.

“He’s gonna do the high dive. I think he’s trying to impress the girl in the blue bikini,” he said, nodding across the pool.

You shook your head slightly. “He knows that won’t actually work, right?”

He shrugged. “I tried to tell him.”

“In other words, ice cream is a must after this.” You usually followed the same rulebook for Steve’s failed flirting as you did for Robin: ice cream and a bitch sesh.

“Ice cream is always a must.”

You laughed, eyes focused on his smiling face.

Maybe if you were paying more attention, you would’ve seen the little boy running to the diving boards. You may have moved in time to avoid him bumping into you and sending you straight into the deep end.

—

Billy spotted you the moment you walked toward Robin with your gaggle of children. Max had told him she’d be here with the rest of your group. So, when the first to arrive were Steve, Robin, and Dustin, he deflated a little.

Ten minutes later, he straightened and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a little kid. You made his stomach twist in the best possible way and your smile? He’d do anything to see it.

Every so often, he’d glance back your way. You and Robin laughed at something and his lips ticked up ever so slightly.

He always kept an eye on you. He didn’t want to miss the way your shoulders shook as you laughed. Or the smile you gave El when she wanted you to watch her hold her breath. Or the view he’d get when you bent over facing toward or away from him—he didn’t know which he preferred.

He also knew you couldn’t swim. And every time you showed up, he watched you—made sure you stayed away from the edge. Part of him wished you wouldn’t come to the pool, but the selfish side loved when you did.

It was easier when he was off duty. He didn’t have to pay attention to everyone else. He’d sit at the foot of your lounger and talk to you while the others swam. You’d poke him with your toes if he flustered you too much, and he’d grab your feet and move closer to put them on his lap. He’d graze a finger up the bottom of one, and when you went to pull away, he’d grip your ankle and laugh, promising not to do it again.

You’d ask him to reapply sunscreen to your back. And each time he’d massage it into your shoulders, your neck—his thumbs pushing the tension away—down until he reached your swimsuit, and then move onto your arms. You’d always tell him you could do that part, and he’d grunt at you, wanting to touch you a little longer.

Then, when he finished, you’d offer the same, and he’d turn around, stifling a moan when your hands rubbed his shoulders and down his spine. He’d tease you, ask if you could do his chest, to which you rolled your eyes, but did it anyway because you told him once you didn’t think he applied enough to begin with. You never said it was because you liked touching him, too.

He continued scanning the rest of the pool. It wouldn’t be long before his shift ended, and he could finally join you.

Everything was relatively calm—kids playing, parents sitting with one another, high schoolers gossiping as they floated. Everything was normal.

“(Y/N)!”

His head shot to the panicked voice, dread clawing his gut.

Dustin’s arms waved frantically at Billy.

Where were you?

And he dove in.

You were sinking, bubbles no longer escaping your mouth. And the feeling in his gut worsened as your eyes slowly closed.

He’d taken his eyes away from you for a second.

That was all it took.

Just one second.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, using the other to propel himself upward.

Dustin was still panicking and had gathered the attention of his friends, who had rushed forward when Billy emerged.

Billy vaguely noticed Steve above him.

“Help me get her out,” Billy called. “Lay her down.”

Steve hauled you by your arms, using the towel around his neck as a pillow. Billy was beside you in a moment doing compressions.

“C’mon,” he muttered before pinching your nose and pushing air into your lungs. “C’mon.”

Each press into your chest made his hurt.

He couldn’t lose you. He just couldn’t. Not like this, not when you survived so much. Not when you’d become so important to him. Not before he could tell you.

You coughed, water spurting from your throat as you instinctively turned to get it out.

Relief washed over him.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Your coughing slowly subsided, but your breath shook, and the urge to cry crept up your nose. You’d been so close. You felt the water burning your lungs as you sunk further and further.

Billy’s body heat comforted you as you shivered. You rested your head in the crook of his neck. The warmth of his skin made you shudder at the contrast. All the energy had been drained from you. You were just so cold, so fucking scared.

“I’ve got you, honey,” he repeated, placing a towel around your shoulders. “Let’s go to a chair, okay?”

He was so gentle with you, only his tone registering, but whatever he was saying, you’d agree with.

He hooked an arm under your knees and his other around your back and walked you to one of the Adirondack chairs.

Kneeling in front of you, he covered your hands with his.

“(Y/N).”

You stared at your joined hands, wanting to burrow into him to have some semblance of warmth.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he said.

You did.

“You’re safe now.” He used one hand to graze the side of your thigh. “How ‘bout I take you home?”

You slowly nodded. This was the last place you wanted to be. Your nerves felt so exposed here.

“Okay.” He smiled gently, brushing your forehead with his lips as he rose to his feet.

“Here,” Robin said, setting your tote beside you. She placed a hand on your shoulder, and you touched it in thanks.

Billy pulled your coverup out of it and slipped it over your head.

“C’mon,” he shouldered your bag, “let’s go home.”

His arm went around your waist as he led you through the locker room to get his belongings.

When you got to his car, he placed you in the passenger seat and hooked you.

The way to your home was silent. And that was okay. You were still trying to settle yourself, and just being out of there helped.

Billy had put a hand on your thigh, needing to remind himself that you were next to him—that you were still breathing.

It comforted you—he did that in general. Maybe in a different situation, it would fill your stomach with butterflies. But right now, it was the contact you needed.

He was right here. And so were you.

You were grateful your parents were out when you arrived. You didn’t think you could handle any questions.

Billy’s hand was at the small of your back as you walked inside and went to your room to change. And he went to the kitchen to get you some water.

You got out of that swimsuit as fast as you could. Once Billy left, all you wanted was for him to come back.

It was like your chest didn’t hurt as much when he was in your line of sight.

He’d changed out of his suit and was waiting on the couch, patting the back of it when he saw you.

“Feel any better?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “A bit.”

“What about inside? Anything hurt?” He leaned toward you, scanning your figure like he could pinpoint those spots.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you said. “Really. Maybe a little shaky, but that’s it. You don’t…” You didn’t want him to go, but you didn’t want to force him to stay. “You can go back if you want to. I know you wanted to hang out with everyone.” You didn’t want to feel like a burden. Billy deserved more than being tied down here with you.

He didn’t speak.

He wanted to hang out with you. He may have befriended everyone else, but you were the one he wanted to be around.

You had stopped shaking and coughing. Your breathing seemed normal, and the fear in your eyes was gone. You looked more exhausted than anything.

But still, he kept flashing back to you sinking.

He could’ve lost you. If Dustin hadn’t yelled, you might not be here. And he feared if he left you now, it’d somehow all be a dream. You wouldn't be sitting next to him. You’d be at the bottom of the pool, and he’d have to live with the guilt of not being able to save you.

But you were here. And you were okay. And he had to keep reminding himself of that.

“Let me stay,” he breathed, eyes pleading.

Yours softened, and you nodded.

He gave you a grateful smile. “Good. How about a movie? You can pick anyone you want, sweetheart.”

The pet name sent shivers up your spine, and he noticed. A concerned look covered his features.

“Are you okay? Are you still cold?” he asked, scooting closer.

You shook your head. You were definitely far from cold.

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Billy, I’m fine,” you urged.

“You inhaled a lot of water—”

“I promise.” You put a hand over his. “I just…I like when you call me that.” You played with your fingers, avoiding his gaze.

His face pulled in confusion. When he called you what?

He tried to think of what you were talking about, and then it dawned on him. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it.

A grin spread across his face.

“You like it when I call you ‘sweetheart’?” He moved, his knee touching yours.

You nodded slightly.

“What about ‘honey’?” His head tilted so he could try and meet your eyes.

Again, you nodded, but the smallest of smiles tugged at your lips.

“And ‘baby’?” He lifted your chin with a finger, and your breath hitched.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I like it.”

“How would you feel if I used them all the time?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, but the smile still spread. “I’d like it.”

“And what if I wanted to use them in front of our friends? Would you be okay with that?” he asked, leaning in.

“Only if you asked me out first,” you said.

He chuckled. “Could I still kiss you right now?”

“You better.”

His lips pressed against yours a second later. He tasted like mint and the barest traces of smoke and chlorine. He pulled you into his lap so you straddled him, and your hands cupped both sides of his neck.

You loved how warm he was. Every time you saw him, you wanted to burrow beneath his clothing and find a home there. You didn’t know if it was his Cali sun-kissed skin, or maybe the fire from his cigarettes, or a combination of both, but it was entirely Billy.

His hand trailed up your back to your neck, his other gripping your thigh, trying to plant you there. And part of you wished he’d squeeze harder so the bruises would remind you of this moment.

But you had to pull away.

You panted into each other's mouths, foreheads pressed together. And his hands slid to your waist and wrapped around you, hugging you to him.

“There’s somethin’ I have to tell you,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek.

“You can tell me anything,” you said, thumb rubbing his jaw.

“I love you.”

You pulled back to look at him better. “What?”

“I,” he cleared his throat, “I love you.”

You caught the panic in his eyes, but before he could move, you put your hands atop his.

“I love you,” you breathed, smiling.

He laughed, cupping your cheeks to kiss you—soft and sweet, and it felt like love.

“Does this mean I can call you ‘baby’?” you asked, a teasing lit to your voice.

He grinned, pulling you closer by your hips. “You better.”

He kissed you again, and you had the passing thought that you could do this all the time.

—

The next time you went to the pool, Billy had a lounger and umbrella for you right behind the lifeguard chair.

He greeted you with a kiss, his hand slipping down to squeeze your ass. But you caught it. As much as you liked how physical he was, you weren’t about to let the other pool goers see.

“You shouldn’t have anything to worry about, honey. Just sit back and relax,” he said.

“Why’s that?” you asked, pushing one of his curls behind his shoulder.

“‘Cause I banned that little shit.” He shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t actually do that,” you said, laughing lightly.

“But he doesn’t.” He kissed you again. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Now, enjoy the show.” He winked, then reclaimed his place on his chair.

You shook your head slightly but did as he said. And at one point, when you called out a ‘baby’ to get his attention, you knew the flush on his cheeks wasn’t from the sun.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy Hargrove x y/n #billy Hargrove x you #billy Hargrove x female reader #billy Hargrove x fem!reader #billy Hargrove fluff #billy Hargrove angst #billy Hargrove imagine #billy Hargrove fanfic

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aoioozora · 7 months ago

Text

Simon.

Part 9

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @keiraslayz

@iimichie @mxtokko @chocolate-noodles @akurab @xoxobooksstuff

The waterfall, as expected, was a small one, but no less delightful to see. The falling water cascaded in a white, bubbly froth over the mossy rocks that naturally arranged themselves in steps, and spilled into the large plunge pool below. The rush of water, the chirp of birds, and the rustle of trees in the breeze relaxed everyone…

Except Johnny.

Restless as he was, he immediately threw off his t-shirt and cannonballed into the water to have a dip, making a splash that almost rivalled a meteor falling into the sea. The ladies, who were washing the sweat off their faces by the banks, were victims of this mini tsunami.

“John! Stop splashing around so much!” screeched Lindsey, her face flushed with annoyance as she watched him doggy paddle in the deeper part of the plunge pool.

But that only provoked him to splash around some more and laugh at the annoyed look on her face. “C’mon, dinna fash yersel. It's a braw day, have some fun!” he chortled as he dove and resurfaced, mimicking a shark.

Simon watched Johnny's antics in the water and wanted to get in for a swim too, but hesitated. If it weren’t for the ladies, his shirt would be off and he’d be in the water in an instant.

“Are you gonna swim, Ghosty?” asked Gaz, who had also taken off his t-shirt and was doing a couple stretches before he could take a dip.

“No, I’m fine.” Simon shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You sure, mate?” Gaz’s eyes flickered briefly towards the ladies as he leaned close to whisper, “You know you can show off those guns to her, right?”

He glanced at ____, who was now sitting on some rocks next to Lindsey, having their feet dipped in the water. He could take Gaz’s advice and he knew his body was impressive, but other things about his torso made him conscious.

“Come on, don’t be such a pussy,” Gaz nudged Simon’s arm, smirking, “She’ll like it. And besides, you don't want her to be taken by someone else, do you? Might as well show her that body and secure her, yeah?”

That flipped the switch for him.

“Right then, fuck it.” He instantly took off his shirt and threw it aside.

The two then climbed up the rocks by the banks and dove into the water to join Johnny. While Lindsey was busy now secretly giggling watching the Scotsman, ____ got her once in a lifetime opportunity to see Simon with far less clothes than usual.

Except for the pair of his knee-length shorts, he was naked. His skin was pale except the slight tan on his arms and upon his pecs were etched a few more tattoos similar to the sleeve tattoo on his arm. His body was built and muscular like that of an active soldier or a firefighter, with broad shoulders, well built pectoral and abdominal muscles, and built arms. All his muscles were built to be usable and not for display, and he actually looked strong.

She stared, borderline ogled even, scanning every last bit of his exposed torso, wondering about how strong he was and how much he could carry without breaking a sweat. Of course, all of this was precious information that Frederick would inherit.

“Babe, look at them!” Lindsey nudged ____ out of her reverie to direct her sight to the fun that the men were having.

Simon and Johnny managed to find two large sticks and, pretending to be mediaeval swordsmen… or gladiators engaged in a duel, both screaming “En garde!” and “you fool!” at each other as they clashed sticks. Gaz was busy filming it all and egging them on to fight.

“Boys will be boys,” remarked Lindsey with a chuckle as she too took a video of them. “Men find stick, men play with stick, men happy,” she added, looking at her friend to hear her thoughts.

But ____ didn't hear a word Lindsey said. She was far too busy storing her mental database with the sights of the men frolicking, stick-fighting, and throwing water at each other.

The sight that took the cake was Simon's smile. It wasn't his usual polite little smiles or his teasing smirks, but a full-blown grin of pure enjoyment and happiness. She watched the way his cheeks, flushed with exertion, raised up to his eyes; how his nose crinkled. His laughter was a loud roar, surprisingly, louder than those of his two friends. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knee and watched Simon with a dreamy eye, completely taken in by how handsome his genuine laughter made him, yet another thing for Frederick to inherit.

“I caught a fesh!” came Johnny's scream after some minutes of brawling in the pool. The two ladies looked and indeed, the Scotsman was found standing in the middle of the water holding up a huge, writhing fish in his hands like it was a trophy. “Oi Gaz, take ma picture! I need tae put this on ma Instagram.”

“Bruv, did you catch that with your bare hands?” exclaimed Gaz as he came up with his camera, taking a couple photos while the Scotsman waded towards the banks, posing with his prized catch. Johnny announced that he did, and then explained his unorthodox process.

“Your bum’s out the window,” Simon, who now joined them, decided to let Johnny know that he wasn’t making any sense.

“Say it in a Sco’ish accent, mate,” Johnny piped, smirking, “It’s ‘yer bum’s oot the windae’,”

“Right then, it looks like we're having fish and chips for lunch today.”

“Fuckin’ pussy,” Johnny teased, rolling his eyes.

The men decided to emerge from the water and call the ladies to prepare to return to the cabin. As they trudged back, Johnny excitedly showed off his catch to Lindsey, who he found out wasn't very keen on fish. The Scotsman, taking full advantage of it, would try to sneakily touch her arm with the cold, wet fish, making her squirm and shiver. Johnny and Gaz lightheartedly teased her for being averse to a dead fish, but she didn’t find it funny at all.

After they reached the cabin, Simon immediately hit the shower, and Johnny and Gaz helped the ladies unload the car. Johnny had the ladies take all of their personal belongings inside the cabin and encouraged them to explore when they were done. And so they did.

The interiors were filled with the pleasant scent of aged wood mixed with the musty smell of dust, which made Lindsey open the uncurtained windows to let in some fresh air. The small living room had two plastic covered couches in the center, facing each other. Across was a clean furnace and mantel made with stone, empty, clean, and undecorated. On their left was a moderately sized kitchen equipped with basic tools and vessels, and on their right were two empty bedrooms which the ladies wandered into. One king sized bed sat in each room, and one bathroom united both the rooms in the middle. The bathroom was occupied by Simon, who was busy washing himself inside after the swim.

When he had finished and was dressed in fresh clothes, he threw his bath towel over his wet head and was about to step out when he overheard the ladies talking.

“Oh, where is my camera when I need it?” he heard ____ exclaim.

There was a pause, and then a surprised quip from Lindsey, “What’s this, why’d you bring your Little Simon?”

Bigger Simon had to do a double take.

Deathly curious to know what this ‘Little Simon’ was, he cracked open the door slightly and peeked out. He saw a stuffed toy in Lindsey’s hand, a skeleton plush, the very one he won for ____ at the arcade.

His eyes widened slightly. His heart picked up speed. “She calls it Little Simon?”

He wasn’t sure what to even feel, but he definitely felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. “But why?” And then he remembered that it was probably because of his skull printed mask, the motorcycle gloves, and his tattoos.

“I kinda can’t seem to go anywhere without him,” he heard ____ say softly in response to Lindsey, sounding a little shy as she took the soft toy from her friend’s hand and stuffed it back in her backpack and continued looking for her camera.

“You have the real man himself, and you’ll be around him until tomorrow morning,” Lindsey answered with a teasing smirk.

“I know, I know,” ____ chuckled, “But still, I have a bit of an attachment to this little guy.”

“Because he gave it to you,” Lindsey playfully shoved her friend’s shoulder. “You know, I might be a little reconciled to you two being a thing, especially after he helped you hike today.”

____ smiled at that. “I’m glad to have your approval, mum.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, also smiling.

Simon, in the meantime, had to keep himself from punching the wall to keep his joy at bay. Although he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, he still gained valuable insight on ____’s feelings for him. His cheeks flushed red, his chest felt like it was going to explode, and an uncontrollable smile tugged his lips until the muscles in his face felt sore.

“Let's fucking go!” Simon clenched his fists, smirking triumphantly, “Alejandro, you absolute fucking loser.”

The ladies soon found the camera, took their photos and then stepped outside the room. Only then did Simon finally step out, exhaling heavily and pressing his damp bath towel on his warm face to cool it down.

He gingerly stepped out of the room, pausing to hear if the ladies were still around. It was silent. Exhaling again, he promptly stepped outside to find out what everyone was up to. Johnny and Gaz were setting up the tent, and the ladies were helping them secure the pegs in the ground.

“Ghosty!” Johnny called as soon as Simon was out the front door, “Can ye chop up some wood? We need tae get the fire pit burning.”

“Aye,” Simon nodded, giving his damp hair one last ruffle to dry it before hanging it up on the drying rack on the porch and turning around the corner to go to the woodshed at the back.

Gaz decided it was his turn to take a shower and left the tent with Johnny and the ladies. Johnny, feeling a little cheeky, told ____, “Why don’ ye help Simon out with the wood? Lindsey and I can pitch the tent by ourselves.”

She immediately picked up the hint. “Alright, then,” she said with a half-smile, leaving the two by themselves.

As soon as she was gone, Johnny asked, smirking as he pretended to adjust the tent cloth on the rods, “What’s the craic, hen?”

“Nothing much,” she answered, shrugging.

“I’m offended ye didn’t like ma catch,” he said playfully, enjoying her reactions to him just existing.

“I don’t even like fesh!” she exclaimed, her own Scottish accent unexpectedly slipping in between her normally spoken RP accent.

Johnny was pleasantly surprised by the slip. “Yer Sco’ish?” he asked, sounding amused.

Her fair face flushed red with embarrassment, which confused Johnny somewhat. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Nothin’,” he answered, unable to suppress a curious smirk at her reaction, “Ye hid it well. Pretendin’ tae be Sassenach, are ye?”

“No, I was raised in England.”

“An’ ye dinnae have no Sco’ish accent at all? From your parents?”

“I got rid of it.”

His patriotic self raised a brow at this. “How so?” He asked, “Are ye embarrassed of it?”

She sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Yes.” He begged her to tell him why this was so and she answered with, “I got made fun of very early on,” she absentmindedly twirled a lock of her wavy hair around her finger, “and so I shed it and spoke in RP.”

“Who made fun of ye?” Johnny demanded with a raised brow, sounding offended for her.

“Oh, just some lads back in school.” She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively.

Johnny growled under his breath, annoyed. “They’re aff their heid!” he exclaimed, “Fuckin’ eejits dinnae ken how bonny our accent is.”

Lindsey had to admit that she felt a little warmed by how offended he was on her behalf.

“Many of them played with my feelings too, especially if they noticed I had a crush on one of them. They made fun of my red hair and me being Scottish, and mimicked my accent. I have no idea why they didn't like any of it,” she added, suddenly feeling the odd, tingly feeling of anxiety a closed-off person gets when they open up unexpectedly.

Johnny was positively furious. “Tha’ so?” he said, crossing his arms, “Then ye don’ need tae be runnin’ after those bloody twats, ye ken? Whit ye need is a real Sco’ish man. He wouldnae take the mick outta ye.”

Lindsey blinked in surprise at this speech, feeling another bout of warmth in her chest. She chuckled and asked, crossing her arms, “And where am I to find a man like this?”

A smirk tugged the corner of Johnny’s lip. “Right in front of ye, pet,” he said, putting a hand on his puffed chest, “I’m yer man and I ken how tae love ye.”

“Bold words,” answered Lindsey, impressed by his confidence.

He shook his head. “If only a Sco'ish man can appreciate a bonny Sco'ish lass like ye,” he flirted, sizing her up and down to bask in her beauty, “then he sure as hell can love her.”

The lady couldn't help but blush and smile at this. She had to admit that he was winning her, but not quite yet.

“I'm not convinced yet. How will I know for sure you'll treat me right and keep it that way?” she challenged, smiling playfully.

“I’ve been askin’ ye tae go oan a date with me, but ye just want tae talk, talk, talk first.” He sarcastically rolled his eyes and flapped his joined fingers to mimic yapping. “I think it’s enough talkin’, yeah? Time to go oan a date an’ see me in action. Whit ye say, pet?”

“Alright, fine,” she relented, “But I have high expectations, so don’t disappoint me.” The smile lingered as she crossed her arms.

He returned her smile, happy to be challenged. “Yer wish is my command.”

To keep his wet hair from troubling him, Simon pulled out a black bandana from his pocket, folded it up oblong and tied it around his forehead. Just as he was about to enter the woodshed, he heard ___ call as she emerged from behind the wall.

“Simon, do you need-” Her words stopped in their tracks when she saw him sporting the bandana, clearly a new look she hadn't seen on him before.

“Need what?” he asked, turning to face her.

She gulped harshly and then croaked out, “...Help?”

“I don’t, but do you want to help?” He turned back to the woodshed and pulled out a log of wood and a splitting axe.

“Yeah,” she answered, watching him place the log of wood on a tree stump that functioned as a chopping block.

He turned back to the woodshed and brought out a small wooden stool, which he handed to her. He then pointed slightly afar off, smiling. “You can sit still over there and look pretty for me.”

She chuckled, “So far away?”

“I’ll be swinging an axe, darling. It’s not gonna be safe for anyone to stay nearby. If you want to watch, it’s best if you stay far away.” He rested the axe head down on the grass, allowing the long handle to lean against his leg while he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt above his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms.

She took his advice and the stool, and sat across from him, far away for her safety but near enough to talk to him. She watched as he adjusted his sleeves, spread his legs apart slightly, and wiped his hands on his jeans before taking hold of the axe. Placing one hand below the axe head and the other at the butt end, he raised it over his head, twisting his torso slightly and brought it down with all his strength, splitting the wood in half with a satisfying thwack.

She watched him both carefully and dreamily, observing his motions and form as he split the wood; it would be useful information. A sigh escaped her lips, marvelling at his range of vocations; he was a car mechanic, a gardener, and now a lumberjack, and who knew what else was in his repertoire of practical talents. A plumber? An electrician? Her attraction towards him was increasing at an alarming rate, and even Simon could see it in the way she stared at him.

He exhaled, feeling another flutter in his stomach. Every single instance of her interest in him convinced him further and deeper that she preferred him over anyone else, all of it now piling up into a heap in his mind.

The silence was thick, and her staring relentless, and he felt suffocated (in a good way). He wanted to start a conversation but felt his throat go dry. What would he even talk about? He began to sift through the recesses of his mind for a conversation starter.

“Your skelly plush,” he finally began, his voice a little too unstable for his liking, “You seem to like it a lot. I always see it on your Instagram stories.”

“Yeah, I do, it’s cute,” she admitted.

As he split the loose piece of wood with his hand and tossed aside the smaller piece, he couldn’t help but smile at this indirect compliment she was unknowingly paying him.

“He’s your emotional support plushie then?” Simon asked teasingly as he adjusted the larger piece of the split wood on the stump to split it down again.

“He is,” she answered, gazing again as he swung down the axe. “He motivates me to write.”

“Does that mean I motivate you to write?” he wondered as he threw aside the split wood and placed the next log on the chopping block.

“Speaking of writing,” he began, swinging the axe down, “How’s the novel coming along? You said that there were problems with the male lead.”

“Yeah, there was…” she answered, but her voice trailed off when she watched as he yanked out the axe head lodged in the tight crack of the log, dug his fingers in the said crack, and with a grunt, split the wood with his bare hands, letting out a heavy sigh at the end of it.

A delightful tingle coursed through her lower regions, making her press her thighs together and her cheeks flush. Did she just ovulate? If societal norms didn't exist, she'd already be asking him to split her legs apart. Maybe she was in the ovulation part of her cycle.

“This is juicy,” she thought, covering her mouth slightly to hide the embarrassed smile creeping on her face. Frederick was going to be one hell of a man.

Simon in the meantime, not looking at her, turned the split log of wood around to land another blow on it, all the while thinking, “Did she see it?” But when he stole a glance, she was looking elsewhere. He sighed, raising the axe one last time to split the last log of wood they needed.

“What were you saying, love?” He remembered that she stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh,” she blinked, now gulping harshly to keep her sudden spurt of lust at bay, “Yeah, the male lead. I've thankfully gotten a nice fitting model for him to base his character off of, and so far, it's coming along great.”

“Who's the model, then?” he asked, now gathering the pieces of wood and keeping them aside.

She struggled, looking this way and that as she tried to think of someone’s name to say. “Uh, Alejandro,” she spat out. “Fuck, why did I say that?!”

Simon froze for a split second. “Oh, I see,” he said through his teeth, feeling the full force of disappointment and jealousy hit him like a train. Even the delightful little pile of evidence of her interest in him felt like they were given a harsh, vigorous shake as if to say in warning, “Don't get your hopes up.”

He was glad that his back was turned to her because he felt a painful twinge in his chest strong enough to make his eyes narrow and his lips to frown. “Why'd I even bother?”

Swallowing down all his ill feelings, he collected his composure and the wood in his hands and tucked some under his arm. “We're done here. Let's go,” he said, his voice a hint icy and sharp, though he tried to sound casual and normal.

He did a good job at hiding it, because she didn't notice the subtle shift in his tone.

“Let me carry some,” she offered, now standing and walking up to him.

“No, you might get a splinter,” he reasoned.

She frowned. “Come on, please? Let me help,” she begged.

Simon usually could refuse anyone’s help point-blank, and he could be petty and refuse her rudely, but at the sight of her pleading eyes staring at him, he nearly melted. Though he felt bitter, his tender regard for her didn't falter in the slightest. He still didn't want her delicate hands to get hurt, so he turned back to the woodshed again and brought out a pair of gloves. “Wear these first,” he instructed.

Her face beamed as she took the gloves and put them on. Only when she did did he give her a lighter load of the split wood to carry.

He was silent as they carried the wood to the fire pit, but only one thought filled his mind, “Why am I jealous? She's the author. She can choose whoever she wants as a model for her characters. Maybe the male lead is like Alejandro.” And yet, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and embarrassed by the fact that he thought himself highly enough to be a model for any character in her work. After all, “she went to Alejandro first to discuss the male lead. It’s not any wonder she would choose someone like him.”

By the time they had dropped the wood into the fire pit, they found nobody outside. After starting a fire, the two entered the cabin and found Lindsey and Gaz in the kitchen, prepping the ingredients for lunch while Johnny's bathroom concert made nice background music.

They joined in and Johnny joined soon after. Johnny was in such high spirits that he couldn't stop singing, either under his breath or out loud. He very openly flirted with Lindsey, who was both flattered and offended by it, since she would've preferred him to be more discreet. Gaz and ____ egged Johnny on simply because they wanted to be entertained, but Simon was by himself, silent, sullen, and annoyed by all the noise.

When ____ had her fill of fun, she leaned over to Simon who was busy dicing up some tomatoes. “Simon,” she called.

“Hm?” He responded, his eyes fixated on the tomatoes, not willing to meet her eye.

“You told me that Johnny was a bit of a womaniser,” she said, her voice quiet and a hint worried as she took a bottle of dried peppercorns and tried to open it.

“Yeah, I did.” he answered, watching her trying to pry the tight lid open.

“I'm a bit worried about Lindsey. I hope Johnny won't raise her hopes up too high and break her heart. She seems to really like him.” She grunted, shaking her aching, red hand, still unsuccessful.

His jaw clenched slightly. “You're worried about her and yet you openly support them,” he quipped, taking the bottle from her and twisting the tight lid open easily. He handed the bottle back.

She smiled gratefully at him as she took the bottle and poured out a couple of peppercorns into a small mortar. “Yeah, I kinda do support them, and I think they look great together, but I'm still worried about how Johnny will treat Lindsey long term.”

Simon was silent for a moment, now staring back at the tomatoes that he mindlessly turned into a mush from dicing too much. “What do you want me to do, darling?” he asked.

“I want you to find out if he genuinely likes her,” she said, now in a whisper, now crushing the pepper into a coarse powder with the pestle, “Lindsey… she's more delicate than most people even if she doesn't show it, and she's easily swayed by her emotions too. I would not tolerate it if he broke her heart just for shits and giggles.”

Simon could hear the bitterness in her voice, and from the look on her face, he could tell that she was reliving some experiences. He was tempted to be petty again, but decided against it. He bumped her shoulder gently with his arm in an attempt to reassure her.

“Don't worry, darling. I’ll find out.”

End of Part 9.

Part 10

This chapter was so hard yet so fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! As always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist. Thank youu xoxo

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