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moonlightspencie · 1 year

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Things I Can’t Say

Description: Aaron Hotchner has a lot of things on his mind. Most of which he can never bring himself to say. Until one slip unravels everything. (originally posted on ao3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: usual criminal minds-level mentions of cases, hotch being dumb

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: it’s me. hi. i’m back

The case was turning out to be a rough one. Each lead was turning up as a dead end, and every member of the team was just about over the chase after a couple of days.

Y/N sat in the office the local precinct had set aside for the team, on the phone with Penelope as she rattled off a million ideas. They eventually came to a possible suspect, Y/N putting the phone on speaker for Hotch and Reid to listen to as she listed her points.

“He could be a good starting point. He knew Quinn, and hung out in the same circles as the other three,” Garcia offered.

“Okay, we’ll check him out. Thanks, sugar,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Anything for you, my sweet.”

She hung up, looking to Hotch to find him already looking at her.

“She already sent the address,” he said, holding up his phone.

“Awesome.”

“You’ll come with me to check out the first suspect. Reid, I want you to stay here and complete the geographical profile.”

“Sounds good. I feel like I’m getting somewhere,” Reid said, nearly mindlessly.

Hotch nodded, starting towards the exit of the precinct with Y/N on his heels.

They pulled up to the house after a long drive, already getting the feeling this wouldn’t be their guy. Hotch pulled the key from the ignition, and they walked up to the front door.

A man opened the door after a firm knock, burly and a bit unkempt. Y/N spoke up first, hoping to soften him up to questioning.

“I’m supervisory special agent Y/L/N, this is Agent Hotchner. Can we ask you a few questions?”

He raised his brows. “Anything you say.”

“We’re inquiring about a man named Quinn. We hear you were good friends,” Hotch stated.

“Is there a question in there, agent?”

Hotch sighed. “Do you know the last time you saw him?”

“Week ago. Maybe two.”

Y/N crossed her arms, whispering to Hotch. “He’s not our guy. We’re looking for someone highly organized.”

Hotch nodded, dropping his arms.

“Well,” Y/N started, handing the man a business card. “Thank you for your time, sir. If you have any information, please give us a call.”

He looked at the card briefly. Then, “One question.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“Pretty girl like you: what are you doing working with the FBI?” the man asked, a sly smile on his face. “Don’t you think you’d be happier someplace else? Maybe around here?”

“She is a federal agent,” Hotch said, moving to stand in front of her. “Try practicing a little more respect.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to be afraid of you, G-man?”

“You may be too incompetent to be the unsub we’re looking for, but I promise you this: one more slip-up and we will nail you to the wall for the illegal guns, and the drugs. I’m too busy to deal with scum like you currently, but you can believe I’ll have local law enforcement coming back with a warrant and subsequent 20-year sentence.”

The man stopped in his tracks, color draining from his face and confidence waning completely.

“Hotch,” she said, a hand on his arm. “Let it go. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine,” he huffed, turning towards her. The man shut his door in the meantime. “We’re federal agents on a job. There’s no reason for anyone to think it appropriate to treat you like that. Especially in a situation like this.”

“He’s put in his place now, though. I think you put the fear of God in him.”

She laughed, taking half a step back. He didn’t falter, though.

“I just—“ he started and stopped just as quickly.

“I know you’ve been a little on edge with this case. It’s okay. Just… Don’t worry about the little things like that. I could’ve taken care of it.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Come on,” she said, starting to walk back towards the car. “I’ll let you have your pick of the music on the way back.”

He hid a smirk, following after her. The ride back to the precinct was quiet. Too quiet.

She turned to look at Hotch as he drove, uncharacteristically silent. It took a few seconds before he realized she was watching him, and he shot a sideways glance in her direction.

“You have something on your mind,” he stated, not even bothering to ask a question.

“Yeah. You’re being really quiet. Much more so than normal.”

He sighed, not giving a response.

“What is it, Hotch?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you still mad about that guy flirting with me?” she asked with half a smile.

“No,” he said shortly.

She scoffed. “Right. That was real convincing.”

He side eyed her. “I’m not.”

“You know, it’s okay if you are. I get it,” she started, a smile breaking out. “I really don’t mind if you’re all jealous.”

His face flushed, embarrassment taking hold.

“That’s not— It’s not what that is,” he muttered.

She raised a brow, the smile fading from her face as she took in his flustered state. She sat up straight in her seat, looking at him.

“Hey, I was just joking…” she trailed off. “Wait, are you actually jealous?”

“No.”

“You’re flushed and acting really flustered. It doesn’t take a profiler, Hotch.”

“I— No. I couldn’t be.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he said with a raised voice. He then took a moment, taking in a breath. “I can’t be. I have Beth, I can’t.”

Her heart stopped in that moment, she was sure. She didn’t know what to say, settling back in her seat and watching the road in front of her as they continued on towards the station. He was just as quiet, though internally panicking over letting it slip. He couldn’t help but think back to when he first realized she would become a problem for him.

—————

They sat at the table in the restaurant, exchanging the most embarrassing stories they could think of. Everyone was busting up with laughter through the night.

“No!” she exclaimed, looking at Reid with wild eyes. “You took down an old woman?”

Reid groaned. “Not on purpose! I tripped!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t break a hip,” Derek said with a laugh, slapping a hand against his back.

“At least it isn’t Y/N, here, getting thrown up on by a suspect,” Hotch said, smirking at her as he let something she’d been trying to keep secret slip.

“You asshole,” she laughed, lightly smacking his arm. “I was hoping to take that to my grave.”

“Oh, that is so gross,” Kate said, laughing.

“She had to change her pants in the car. It was lucky she had a change, because I did not want to ride back with her covered in… that,” Hotch laughed.

She groaned, pressing her face against his arm and away from the group. He laughed it off, his hand reaching down to rest on her knee as she waited out the laughter of the others. Though, this small gesture started feeling like too much for him. He could tell his face was reddening, and he took his hand away quickly to not alert anyone else to his condition.

He swallowed, trying to calm his nerves. He took in a breath, smiling slightly as she finally pulled away from his arm, though he felt his heart still pounding wildly. He couldn’t feel anything for her. He was her boss. She deserved better.

—————

She sat in her seat, unsure what her next move would be. Unsure what it should be in a circumstance like this. Did he really just admit he was jealous?

“We can just pretend this didn’t happen, you know? I— I don’t want you to feel guilty or freaked out about this,” she offered, still not looking at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, I know. I know you didn’t,” she said, nodding. “You— You have Beth. You have a lot going on right now, frankly. I don’t want you to feel like this is adding on, or…”

“I understand. I really appreciate that.”

“Anything.”

He swallowed. “I just… I didn’t mean for that to slip out.”

“I know. You really don’t have to explain anything, it’s okay.”

He nodded quietly, both parties turning back to their own worlds as the pavement flew by them.

The rest of the case was a welcome relieve to the conversation they didn’t want to remember any longer. While they never wished for a difficult case, neither of them could say the mental gymnastics weren’t a great way to forget everything else around them.

Before long, though, the case was over. And, unfortunately, they were surrounded by profilers.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked as he sat next to Y/N. “You’re spaced out, sweet stuff.”

She smirked. “I’m alright. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly. It’ll pass, so no worries here.”

He nodded, not convinced. “If you need to…”

“You’ll be there,” she said, finishing his sentence. “I appreciate you, Derek Morgan.”

“Right back at you, mama,” he said, nudging her side with a smile. “And if you need me to kick ass…”

“Won’t be necessary.”

“Just an offer,” he said, hands raised in surrender.

She smiled. “I know.”

The next couple of weeks were excruciating. She kept up a happy face, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his pseudo-confession. She wished she had the guts to say something back, but she knew it would have been pointless. He had someone, and had too much on his plate to deal with a younger subordinate confessing feelings for him. It wasn’t unwelcome when Garcia scurried through the bullpen with talk of a new case.

“Meet Maria Gonzales, thirty-four, and Cameron March, twenty-nine. Both women were reported missing within the past month, and just turned up in the past two weeks, bound in plastic with ligature marks on their wrists and ankles. They were each taken from a different healthcare facility in the San Antonio area last month. Now, a Miss Bryar Johnson has been abducted from yet another facility.”

Y/N sighed. “Yikes. So, we should have about a two-week period to find Bryar?”

“Yes,” Garcia started. “The first two women were killed right before they were dumped. Bryar was reported missing three days ago.”

“Plastic could be a sign of remorse,” Spencer piped up.

“What was the cause of death?” Rossi asked.

“Strangulation,” Hotch said, not looking up from the files. “Wheels up in 20.”

The San Antonio case was going surprisingly well, though Y/N felt that it could be going better on a personal level. Usually she’d pair up with Hotch for most of the case, especially since their similar skill sets matched with their different personal presentations was always helpful in getting answers whenever they needed them. This time around, he hardly looked in her direction.

“I know you said you’d tell me if something was wrong, but you’re still not saying a damn thing,” Derek said, walking up to her at the table she sat at.

She looked up at him, then went right back to searching through the files that sat before her. She could tell Derek was staring a hole into the back of her head, but couldn’t justify telling him what was happening in her life at the moment.

He sat down next to her, dragging the files away from her line of site.

“Mama, I know when something is up with you. You can’t hide that from me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not saying anything.”

He sighed. “You’re being awfully difficult.”

“What’s new?” she questioned with a smile, finally looking at him.

He chuckled. “Touché. You’re talking to me now, at least.”

“I always talk to you, Morgan.”

“Most of the time. Except when you’re trying to hide something.”

She glared at him. “Have you considered I’m not talking for a reason?”

“Oh, I’ve considered it. I just know that when you hold stuff in you get all solemn and grumpy. I don’t want you to get to that point,” he said, turning her chair towards him. “Talk.”

“I can’t, Derek.”

“Why not?” he asked, voice quieter.

She sighed. “It’s… It’s hard to explain. It’s really personal.”

He reached for her hand, quietly taking it and not saying another words for a few moments. She looked to where their hands connected, letting out a shaky breath as she did.

“It’s Hotch,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“What? Is he okay?”

She nodded. “He’s fine. I’m just— I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you like this,” he noted, brow furrowing in concern.

She shook her head. “Yeah. It’s… I don’t know. Have you ever felt something so strongly, but just knew there was nothing you could do about it?”

He paused, studying her for a moment. He scooted forward slightly, eyes still trained on her face as he spoke quietly.

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?”

She nodded after a beat. “And I think he confessed the same to me but— There’s just nothing to be done about it. The worst part of all of it is that he can’t even look at me now. We haven’t really spoken since then. That was a few weeks ago.”

Morgan sighed, looking down. “Damn.”

“Damn, indeed,” she said with half a smirk.

He chuckled slightly. “I’m sorry, mama. I— I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Of course you can’t. You’re a smoke show. Who could resist?”

He laughed out loud. “You know me so well.”

She laughed along. “What can I say?”

He stood up, taking her hands as he did. She stood with him, accepting a long hug from him.

“You deserve to be happy,” he whispered. “Let this one go. You’ll find the right person.”

“I get it. It just really sucks right now.”

“I know.”

“We have a break in the case,” Hotch’s voice rang out in the small room, breaking the two of them up.

“Yeah?” she asked, pulling away from Derek. “What do you need from us?”

Hotch looked between them for a moment, then continued on.

“Garcia should have just sent an address. We need to leave now, though. A massive storm is rolling in and roads are getting bad.”

“Gotcha,” she said, nodding curtly. “Are we all riding together?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

She paused for a moment before responding. “Right.”

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Morgan said with finality. As soon as Hotch left, he turned back to her, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s finish this and get home.”

The storm turned out worse than they all had expected. The take-down ended up slightly more difficult due to power outages across the state, and the more difficult part was the fact that they would be forced to stay for the night when Y/N wanted nothing more than to go home to her own bed.

She sat inside the SUV with Hotch and Rossi on the way back to the hotel for the night, staring out the window at the pouring rain. Their voices became a type of white noise to her as they conversed quietly, though her silence didn’t go unnoticed.

Hotch glanced back at her every couple of minutes, feeling a sense of dread at the coming conversation she currently knew nothing about. His heart felt like it might burst, and putting up a front was getting harder and harder by the minute. He had a million thoughts running through his head, and it certainly didn’t help that she was completely spaced out in the backseat.

“You’re awfully quiet back there,” Rossi noted, finally breaking the two out of their own heads.

“Just tired,” she said. “The rain doesn’t help. I always get sleepy during storms.”

“You sure?”

She hummed. “Yeah. No worries here, Rossi.”

They pulled into the parking lot after a few minutes, and prepared to run inside of the building and away from the downpour. They all got in with minimal damage done, though not without some wet hair.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she looked at the two men, her own head safe after using a jacket as a shield.

“Good look, you guys. The drowned rat thing really suits you,” she said with a smile, looking between them.

“Hey, watch it. Maybe next time you won’t be so lucky,” Rossi said, laughing lightly as he shook his hair out.

Hotch smiled, scrunching his nose as he brushed his fingers through his hair. Y/N watched him with intent, though not without missing the fact that Rossi knew that look on her.

He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna head off.”

She looked to Rossi as he gave them one last knowing look. A look that was a bit too smug for her liking.

“He’s acting weird,” she said out loud.

Hotch nodded. “That’s Dave.”

“Only when he knows something,” she said, looking back to him expectantly.

“What would he know?” Hotch questioned.

She watched him for a moment. “You tell me.”

He cleared his throat, glancing away. She was silent, hoping it’d prompt him to say something.

“Can we talk privately?”

“Why?”

“You said you wanted to know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hotch, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He sighed. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“I’m not saying you would.”

“Y/N.”

She crossed her arms. “We haven’t talked in weeks. I don’t know how to act around you right now.”

“I never should have said anything. Not like that, I know,” he said with a sigh. “I would really appreciate if we could talk about it now, though. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Please. Can we go someplace else? The others are going to be here any minute.”

She glanced around the hotel lobby, then back to the man in front of her. He sure looked less intimidating with soaking wet hair and puppy dog eyes.

Eventually, she nodded. “Okay.”

They stepped into the hotel elevator, unsure what to say in the silence. She looked up at him, receiving a small smile. The elevator dinged on the floor they were all staying on, and she led him to her room.

He followed after quietly, standing awkwardly by the door after she closed and locked it. She turned to look at him once she sat on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m still wet.”

She couldn’t help by laugh. She then got up, making a quick stop in the bathroom to grab a towel. She came back, standing in front of him to hand it over.

“Here,” she said, arms extended with the towel in hand.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

She watched as he scrubbed at his head, his hair flying in all directions by the time he was done.

“You look ridiculous,” she said with a smirk.

He dropped his arms, towel still in hand. His brow quirked up.

“That bad?”

“Not bad. Just ridiculous.”

He failed to hide a smile at that, looking around for a place to set down the towel. She took it from him, instructing him to take off his shoes as she went to throw it in the bathroom once again. She came back to see him settling down on the edge of the bed.

“So,” she started, trailing off as she sat next to him. “What’s up?”

He snorted a laugh. “A lot. I think, first, I need to apologize to you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he said with a nod, turning to look at her more fully. “I shouldn’t have let on that I had any kind of feeling for you other than professional ones. That’s… It was really unfair to you, and puts you in a bad position. I want you to feel safe and respected at work, and I feel like I’ve put that at risk.”

“Hotch,” she said, stopping him. “You didn’t. I know you respect me, and I do feel safe. As safe as an agent can get, anyways.”

She laughed, drawing a small smile from him.

She continued, “I made a joke, and it turned out to be true. You didn’t just up and tell me. I’m just like… Really good at my job.”

He fully laughed this time, head dropping into his hands.

“You’re making it really hard to feel bad about this,” he mumbled.

“Good. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

He sighed, looking back up. “I still will. You don’t deserve to be worried that your boss is going to— make a move.”

She quirked a brow. “Make a move?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not worried about that and never have been. You care way too much about this team and people in general to make advances at someone who didn’t want them,” she said, scooting an inch closer. “Besides, you made our boundaries clear. You have someone you love, and I know you’re not the cheating type.”

He paused, then let out a heavy sigh, looking anywhere but at her.

“Uh oh,” she said, looking at him curiously. “What nerve did I just hit?”

“I, uh… We broke things off. Beth and I.”

She deflated. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to—“

“No, no,” he waved her off. “It’s okay. It was mutual. Distance has been wearing on us for a while, and honestly neither of us were really feeling it anymore.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last week.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s not been as difficult as I thought it would be. Jack has been handling it very well. He told me the other day on the phone that I’m going to find the perfect person one day.”

Hotch smiled at that, finally looking back at her. She smiled back, nodding.

“I’d have to agree with him. He’s got that big old brain from his dad, you know?” she said, nudging him in the arm.

He laughed softly again. “He’s a great kid.”

“The best, arguably.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Can I ask you something?” she said after a beat of silence.

“Anything,” he replied with a brief nod.

“Do you ever say or do the things you want to?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You just keep so much bottled up. Do you ever let yourself dump it all out?”

He cleared his throat. “On occasion, I suppose.”

She nodded thoughtfully. He watched her, knowing something was stirring in her head.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

“Can I slip a secret?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “I really, truly wasn’t uncomfortable when you let it slip. The whole jealousy thing.”

“What?”

Hotch’s heart started up again, unsure where she was going with this, but really hoping it went in one direction.

“I know what you were feeling. Like, every time we show up to a new town and half the ladies in the place are staring you down. I get it.”

He let out a breath. “I don’t—“

“If this is like, way too inappropriate for me to say, I’d really appreciate if you didn’t fire me. But, I’ve had a thing for you since my first day on the job. Frankly, these past few weeks have been hell.”

“Y/N…”

“Again I ask that you don’t fire me.”

He chuckled. “I won’t. I— Since your first day?”

“Remember when I couldn’t remember my own name for a minute there at the beginning?”

He hummed. “You were nervous for the interview.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ve never been more prepared for an interview. I was nervous that my possible new boss was a smoke show, and it freaked me out even more that he was staring me down the second I walked in the door like I was an unsub.”

He smirked. “A smoke show? Really?”

“As if you don’t know,” she laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I just… I guess I kind of freaked out seeing you. And hearing you talk so passionately about work for the first time. Not to mention the way your voice sounds…”

“Alright, let’s not get carried away,” he said, color rushing into his cheeks.

“It’s also super cute when you blush like that,” she said, squeezing in the last phrase before he could stop her again.

He sat quietly, just taking her in for a moment. She hid a smile, unsure what her next move should be. He cleared his throat.

“So, are you really all that sorry that things with Beth ended?”

“Sorry that it might have hurt you? Yes. Sorry that it’s done? Not really.”

“I see.”

“I also don’t know how excited I should be, considering you could totally blow me off right now and see if sleeping around is your new lifestyle. That might make things worse for me, honestly.”

He laughed. “Oh, yes. Leaving the person who gave me the courage to finally end a serious relationship is at the top of my list.”

Her face dropped. “What?”

He took in a breath, now realizing what he’d just said. A nervous laughter bubbled out of him, his eyes wide.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You broke things off because of me?”

He groaned. “Not fully.”

“Hotch, what the hell,” she said, laughing fully. “What if I was, like, not on board?”

“I didn’t think you were until now. I guess I still thought it was worth it. Plus, like I said, we’ve both been wanting to for a while.”

“Still!”

She laughed, scooting even closer to him. She took his hands in her own, a wild smile on her face as she looked at his bewildered one staring back.

“Are you fully insane?”

He stumbled over words for a moment. “I— I might be.”

She stared at him a moment longer, then decided all of the thinking and overthinking they’d both done was getting ridiculous. If he could act impulsively, so could she.

She leaned forward, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. He stayed still for a moment in shock before responding eagerly. His arms found her waist, and he tugged her into his lap as soon as he could.

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#luna rises from the dead #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner one shot

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mistyresolve · 8 months

Note

Not sure if you’re doing requests still.

If want to ignore this, feel free.

How I was wondering how would Ghost and Gaz react if their s/o had sweet goofy Labrador that fellow them around and flop onto their laps, whenever they sat down?

Something super cute?

Word Count - 1.7k

Tags/Warnings - Fluff, puppiess

A/N - I've recently been so unbelievably obsessed with livestock guardian dog....I'm well aware that a lab is not the right breed but still

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

Ghost

You had come to visit the base on your day off. And just like every other time you did so, you brought your dog, Archie, with you. She was a 2-year-old energetic, long-haired golden lab, who had yet to grow out of her puppy faze. Always tripping over her still-too-big feet and chewing on anything and everything.

Archie was well known around the base, and the boys adored her. She got all the attention a dog could want. And more.

Archie also had an unpredictable favourite, whom she always ran to first, and everyone for when he appeared. Including you. You always had a hard time getting her back in the car when it was time to leave when Ghost was around. On more than one occasion you have had to ask him to go hide somewhere so she would listen to you.

It was so bizarre because aside from the occasional pat on the side, he basically ignored her. Ghost never seemed to mind though. He never once complained about being “inconvenienced” or annoyed by Archie following him around. Frankly, you had your suspicions that he enjoyed the dog's company.

As soon as you let Archie out of the back seat she booked it for the hanger, leaving you in her dust. You didn’t feel the need to recall her and already knew the rest of the team would be there—sitting around one of the Humvees, pretending to be working on it. The oversized garage doors were pushed open, and when she disappeared through them and into the building you could hear the guys greeting her.

“Hello, pretty girl!” you didn’t need to see him to know it was MacTavish and him putting on the iconic puppy voice, “Who’s a good girl?” he said, knowing damn well the moment Ghost showed up Archie would forget he ever existed.

Then Price’s voice, “Archie,” followed by playful barking. They were definitely riling her up, “Where’s your mom, huh?”

Before you rounded the corner you knew she was running in a circle, greeting each and every one of them, expecting a pat and scratch. When she saw you enter after her, she barked once in acknowledgment, before continuing her rounds.

You took a seat in the circle, jumping into the conversation they were having before they arrived. Much to your surprise, they were significantly dirty; so they were actually working on the Humvee before this.

Archie disappeared further into the hanger, doing a quick perimeter check. Obviously, she was looking for a certain someone. When she came back, too soon, it meant that Ghost wasn’t around, so she was making do with her second favourite, Soap. She was on her back, exposing her belly for rubs. To which Soap obliged, as it was his end goal to overthrow Ghost.

You looked around, “Where is Ghost?” It was strange that he wasn’t here. It was near the end of the day on a Friday. Usually, they all met up for the last few hours to bullshit before heading out for drinks.

At the sound of his name, Archie perked up, looking to you for confirmation. When she realized he still wasn’t here she turned her attention back to Soap. Whom frowned at you, “You’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“He and Gaz took twenty-two out for a test drive,” Price checked his watch and then rocked back in his seat with a frown, “Should have been back by now though.”

22 was the other Humvee that was normally parked in the hangar, a “22” stencilled onto the side of the hood. 22 was a “Project of Passion”, given to the 141 as a joke a year ago. The damn thing didn’t start when we first got it. But the guys saw it as an offence and vowed to get it back on the road.

His ears must have been burning because shortly after you asked, you heard the rumble of the vehicle approaching. It pulled into the open space before someone killed the engine, and the doors slammed shut.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

That was definitely Ghost.

Archie sprung up from her spot at Soap's feet, meeting up with Ghost as he emerged around the back of the Humvee. He was using a rag to wipe something off his hands angrily when his entire demeanour changed, “Hey, Archie-girl,” he dropped to one knee, getting down to her level to give her a good scratch behind the ear. She was wagging her tail so hard that her entire body swayed with it. Her mouth was open as she panted in excitement.

Soap leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, sulking.

Ghost stood back up. That would be all the attention he would give Archie and it was like he gave her the moon, “Engine nearly blew up,” at some point, he had taken off his jacket, and was wearing just a green t-shirt. His arms were stained black from car oil. He walked back to 22 and this time everyone followed after him, curious as to what the issue was.

The jacket hanging over the open window was all the evidence you needed to know why he had taken it off. The black stains on his arms mirrored those on his jacket. Only way worse.

Both you and Soap had to avoid eye contact with each other or you’d probably laugh right in Ghost’s face.

The hood was propped up already and Gaz was bracing his weight on it as he leaned forward, looking exasperated.

You jumped up onto the work table to watch them contemplate what to do next. Soap asked a question and both Ghost, and Gaz groaned. Ghost invited Soap to take a look underneath the vehicle, the two of them sliding beneath it so only their bottom halves were visible.

Archie joined them.

Immediately. And enthusiastically.

She crouched low and inched herself until she was right next to Ghost. She didn’t interrupt him as he explained what he was thinking was wrong to Soap. When they came back out Archie again followed them.

After an hour of back and forth, they decided to give it up for the day. Sitting back around in a circle, Archie had squeezed herself between Ghost’s feet and the chair, her head resting on his shoe. She was alert and watching everyone around her, but she was calm.

You silently noticed how Ghost kept his foot extra still, careful not to disturb the pup.

Admittedly, the sight of him being so attentive to her presence did something to you. There was a little bit of history between you and Ghost, but both of you agreed that getting attached to each other in this line of work could be dangerous. Torturous, even. Although you no longer actively seek him out, you still have feelings for him.

Archie must have sensed all that and made a dog-equivalent bond with him.

You shared that same peace and excitement when around him.

Gaz

It was the next day and Gaz was given the day off. Why? Because he requested it? Why? Because it was Yogi’s birthday.

Gaz had taken Yogi to get a cut and groom, a pup cup, and then let him run wild in the pet store. When they came home at the end of the day, Yogi was wearing a little blue bandana from the groomers and Gaz was carrying a bag full of toys and chewies.

“Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed upon seeing the Yogi, crouching to his level to get a better look at him, “Aren’t you the most handsome boy.”

When it was time for dinner, Gaz had given Yogi his own “plate”. He went so far as to garnish it with a milk bone.

Now it was 9 p.m. and you and Gaz sat on either side of the couch. His legs propped up on the ottoman, his ankles crossed. An arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand resting atop your dog, mindlessly petting him. You played with the end of his tail. If only because that was all you could reach without having to splay across the sofa.

You were halfway through your movie when you had an epiphany.

“He’s hardly my dog anymore,” you frown, waving a hand at the scene in front of you.

Gaz lazily turned his head over to you, “Hmm?”, Then he followed your gaze to the dog on his lap, “Oh. He hasn’t been your dog for a while,” he said matter-of-factly and gave your senior dog a pat on the shoulder to add emphasis.

Yogi’s tail begins to wag, beating you in the leg with it. It was like adding salt to a wound. You raised Yogi from when he was 8 weeks old. He was now 10 and his brown fur had long since turned grey around his face.

He’s known Gaz for all of 3 years.

They must have made a little boy pact at some point during those three years because there was no clear day or moment Yogi stole his heart back from you and gave it to Gaz…

“Don’t say that,” you glared over at him, “he’s my baby.”

Gaz smiled, “Nah. He’s a big boy,” he moved to scratch under his jaw, right where he liked it most, “Yogi’s a man. A man-dog.”

…That or Gaz was ploying him with threats when you weren’t around.

Down the hall, the washing machine beeped. Since it was Wednesday, it was Gaz’s turn to do laundry. Most of it being his clothes and uniforms. He tapped on Yogi, signalling for him to get up. Yogi was slow moving but he jumped from the couch, stretching out with a yawn.

You paused the movie so Gaz wouldn’t miss any while he was switching laundry, “Yogi…” you said in the saddest, most pathetic voice you could muster when the old dog started after your boyfriend; all too willing to abandon you on the couch. He looked back at you and began to make his way back to you. Without a doubt, it was out of obligation and not want.

“Yogi,” his name was echoed down the hall.

That was it took and the dog carried on down the hall.

“You Judas,” you mumbled to him, knowing he was half deaf.

And a dog.

Masterlist

A/N - Sorry Gaz's part is so short...I've never really written the guy before :/

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick

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mountkennedie · 2 years

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fic where y/n and edward have been lovers since before he turned into a vampire? and when Bella comes along have an argument about both of them being each other’s mate. “She may be your blood singer, but I’m your mate! I’ve been there for you since the beginning!” Ending up in y/n leaving, and not talking to Edward and eventually him regretting choosing, Bella. Cause even though Bella’s blood sings to him, and is driving him to his urges to drink her blood. But y/n has been there since the beginning before they were turned, and always stayed by his side.

Ok I’m going to make a vampire as well just so the timeline makes sense. But both and edward met when human and were turned around the same time but by different people.

this is going to break my heart to write but here we go

Decision Making

Edward Cullen x reader (formerly) Edward x Bella

Warnings: ANGSTTTT

ORIGINAL IDEA FROM: @writing-fanics !!!

_________________________________________

“Are you really going to miss prom Y/n?” Edward, your boyfriend (in secret), asked you. “We’ve been over this Edward! My parents said I wasn’t allowed to go with a boy and its a waste of time anyways. I don’t want to risk it.”

“Would you go if I promised they wouldn’t find out?”

“How could you even do that?” A wicked grin grew on his face, “Just trust me.”

You knew that look meant trouble, but that didn’t stop you from agreeing to his ridiculous idea. You took a deep breath and said, “This once Edward.” His smile made your heart flutter.

“I’ll pick you up at 7pm.”

“You know you can’t park outside the house right? My parents will definitely be notified.”

“I never said anything about a car, Y/n. Just keep your window open a crack for me like always.”

“You’re a nut case,” you giggled.

“This nut case will still be there for his beautiful date,” He finished before exiting the library. You really were lucky he was yours.

~~~

Cloudy memories of your past human life flooded over you as you saw the face of your timeless lover. Whom you could have sworn had died from Spanish flu nearly 100 years ago. But no, here Edward was, your Edward. After all this time, you both meet again.

You had recently escaped your cult of a coven. You didn’t know where you were headed when you began running just following a string until you found the other end. And you saw the other side finally, him.

What was he doing at a high school? You thought as you watched him by his car. He appeared to be waiting for someone, was he waiting for you? Did he feel it too?

He must have because not long after you saw him, he turned around and looked directly at you. He didn’t have the face you were expecting. Instead of excitement or even a mark of joy he looked troubled. He must be confused as to why he feels drawn to you as you do to him, You reasoned.

You took a step towards him and his stare didn’t falter. As you got closer you noticed him begin to slip into a fighting stance. Why would he fight you? Did he not recognize you?

As you took a step into the parking lot the bell within the school rang and students came from the doors. You didn’t leave his gaze no matter who walked by or tried to talk to him. Once you stood a few feet away he said, “What do you want?” Venom laced into his words. Did he not feel it? He had to. There wasn’t a way to miss it.

“What do you mean? Don’t you remember me?” You genuinely asked him. You couldn’t help the hurt bleeding into your voice.

“Why are you here, Y/n?” Edward asked you in the same cold tone. Where did this bitterness come from? You didn’t remember everything from your human life but, you definitely don’t remember doing anything to deserve this.

Before you could respond you smelled it. You didn't realize you showed the fact you had noticed it's scent. But you gained the realization when Edward gave you a predatory glare. "What is-"

"Who's this?" She asked.

"Get in the car, Bella," Edward told her, her stare never leaving from me.

"Who is that?" I ask him, though she smelled amazing, I already had a serving on the way over here. I wasn't necessarily thirsting.

"You don't need to know."

As pathetic as it sounded to say it, you had to ask, "Do you not remember me..?"

"I do." But his face looks as if he wishes he didn't. I must have done something horrid and blocked it out from memory. Did he manage to break off the bond? Was he fighting back the truth? Am I being delusional?

"Leave, Y/n," Edward finished as he began to go back to his car. Overwhelmed with feeling, I ran. I didn't stop running. I couldn't. How could he be this way? What did I do? Who was she..?

~~~

I could not leave Forks. No matter how many times I tried, I could make it to the city line and then found myself turning back around. I needed an answer from him.

His scent was easy to track, Edward is smart, he left of trace of himself on purpose. Even if he didn't, I'm following it.

Upon arriving on what appeared to be his residence, I didn't need to open the door, Dr. Cullen had opened it for me. "Come in, Y/n," was all he said. To this day it still baffled me how many of us there were. Dr. Cullen was always there for Edward when the flu got worse, it strange to see him looking the exact same. She wasn't here, I couldn't smell her at least. "Edward is upstairs. And I apologize for any hostility."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

"Carlisle please," I just nodded and walked upstairs. I followed Edwards scent to his room, and there he was, back facing me.

"Why are you here?" He asked again.

"I recently escaped my past coven and ran. I wasn't going to anywhere specific, just running. And then I picked up on your scent and followed it hoping to see... an old friend." You hesitated on what to call him since it had been so long and he wasn't exactly behaving like a partner. "I wanted to see you again after all this time, and maybe even..."

"Rekindle something that's ancient," He said coolly. My expression confirmed his words and he took in an unneeded breath before saying, "I have moved on, Y/n. It is beyond time you do the same."

"Is she your blood singer?" You asked him in a defeated tone.

He adjusted his jaw, stare growing predatory yet again, "She isn't your concern."

"So yes. Edward," you took a pause, "do you not feel anything?"

"I do. But for the better of us, I am ignoring it," his words sliced through you.

"Edward," you took a painful breath, "She may be your blood singer, but I am your mate! I have been there since the beginning. You didn't sneak into her house to take her to prom! She wasn't in the library for hours with you though her parents hated it! She wasn't the one who became your friend in secondary school though told to leave you alone! Dammit she didn't contract Spanish flu from always being at your bedside did she?!" Though no tears flowed from your eyes the pain was just as present.

"Y/n-"

"Save it! I'm sorry she means so much more Edward. I really am," you finished before speeding downstairs out the door Carlisle had opened once again for you.

~~~

Years upon years passed. Edward's realization of his mistake hitting. But you were no where to be found for an apology. He now had to live the rest of eternity never fully satisfied. And now even worse, he had no way to right the wrong.

///////

A.N. there's a pt.2 now lol

#edward cullen #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen fanfiction #edward x reader #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen fic #twilight #twilight x reader #twlight angst #edward cullen agnst #mountkennedie

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bi-bard · 2 years

Text

Where Are You Now? - Emily Prentiss Imagine (Criminal Minds)

Title: Where Are You Now?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss X Reader

Based On: Where Are You Now?

Word Count: 704 words

Warning(s): none that I know of

Summary: (Season 2) Emily was (Y/n)'s first love. When she leaves without a goodbye, (Y/n) never thought they'd see each other again... until they start working together.

Author's Note: I hope y'all are having a great day.

SONDER - THE WRECKS WRITING CHALLENGE

-------------------------------

I remember being heartbroken when Elle left.

She had been an amazing part of the team. Smart and charming. A natural addition. She was great at her job.

I heard about the new addition sitting in Hotch's office before I saw them. J.J had mentioned to me that someone new had shown up and was talking to Hotch, but beyond that, I had no information.

After we got back from a case in St. Louis, we got our formal introduction.

Well, it was supposed to be formal.

"Emily," I asked, cutting off Hotch's introduction.

"(Y/n)," she replied.

The team was looking between the two of us.

"We... We knew each other way back. In our teens," I explained. "Old friends."

She just nodded.

We didn't talk on our own after that. There wasn't a lot of time. Another case dragged us away instead. Any conversation that wasn't related had to wait.

We didn't talk until we were heading out of the office the night we got back.

"Hey, (Y/n)," I turned around when I heard her say my name. I was just heading toward the elevator.

"Hey," I grinned, stopping to give her a chance to catch up with me.

As the elevator doors closed behind us, she spoke up again, "How've you been?"

"Good, good," I nodded. "What about you?"

"Pretty good," she replied. "You've seen the new job."

I chuckled, "Yeah, I may have noticed it. You did a good job on the case. You'll fit right in."

"Thanks," she said. "I don't know if you're comfortable, but do you want to join me for a few drinks?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Alright, don't act too surprised," I chuckled.

"I just... I didn't think you'd want to spend a whole bunch of time with me," she shrugged.

"Emily... what happened between us was years ago."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not upset."

She just nodded as the doors opened.

"Now, come on," I said. "I could use the drink after that last case."

She smiled again before following me to my car.

We ended up at a small bar nearby. It was nice. It was like nothing had happened. It was like we had remained friends for all those years. It was really nice.

"I always worried about you," I said during a dip in conversation.

"Why," she asked.

"Because you disappeared," I scoffed. "I didn't know what happened. My mom had to tell me."

"We just left so fast. I never had time to explain myself and I am so sorry."

"I was never mad," I shrugged. "Usually, worried. Sometimes just curious."

"About what?"

"Where you ended up," I said. "If you were happy. If your family had finally settled down long enough for you to plant your roots. If you have found someone. All sorts of things. I just... thought about you."

"No one lasted," she replied. I furrowed my eyebrows. "About the whole 'finding someone' thing. No one stuck around."

"Oh," I mumbled, looking down for a moment.

We spent most of the night talking. Neither one of us seemed to care about whether or not we had to work the next day. It was just the two of us spending hours talking. Just like we used to.

I walked out with Emily. I offered to drive her back to her car, but she refused. She said she'd figure it out. I trusted her on that one.

As I waited for her to catch a ride, I felt a nervous twist in my stomach.

It felt like the world had given me another chance. A second shot at something that I had lost a long time ago. No more questions about what had happened. Just focusing on what could happen going forward.

"Emily," I said.

"Yeah," she looked at me.

"Do you wanna go to dinner," I asked. "Together? At some point? As a date?"

There was a long pause. I let out a sigh, ready to get rejected.

"Sure," she nodded.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she replied. "It sounds nice."

I smiled, "Good, good."

She smiled back.

It felt nice. Familiar. Comforting.

For the first time in years, I had an image of the future. And it had Emily right by my side.

-------------------------------

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader

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monstersimpologist · 2 years

Text

The sun will shine again

Prologue chapter

"I am so ready to graduate already!" Olivia says as she stretches her back out, "I'm so done with homework." The five friends all sat together in their usual booth at the local diner. "it'll be nice to get a break for a while," Rylee chimed in. It was a sunny Saturday three weeks till the end of their senior year, and everyone was ready for it to be over. "All I know is that I'm ready for more time to practice. I almost have my part of Through the Fire and Flames down." Alex tosses a fry into her mouth. "You're unnatural. You've only been on that song, what; a month?" "it's called practice, Lucas. Maybe if you knew the meaning of the word, you'd be half as good as me." Lucas puts his hand over his heart, feigning pain. Isaac jumps to his friend's defense, "and maybe if you didn't get into so many fights, your grades would be half as good as his." They all burst into laughter. "Someone has to show those assholes they can't just go around bulling people. And besides, c's aren't that bad."

Rylee and Olivia exchange a glance, knowing full well that her grades wouldn't be that high without their help. after they finish lunch, they decide to head down the street to kill some time at the nearby dance studio. They were friends with the owner and got to hang out there whenever they wanted as long as they kept the place clean. Say what you will about freestyle dancing, but it was a good way to stay fit and it was something fun to do when living in a small town like theirs. It was hours later by the time the lot of them finished up and were getting ready to leave. Alex notices a few missed calls from Olivia's dad. "Hey Olivia, did your dad call you?" She shrugs as Alex calls back. He doesn't answer. Olivia gives him a call, "Hey dad, what's up? We are at the studio…" She stares at her phone. "He hung up." They all exchange curious glances at each other. A few minutes go by and all of a sudden, they see her dad pull up in his police car. As soon as they see him walk through the door, and instantly know something is wrong. He was always known to be very mild-mannered and being the chief of police, he has experience dealing with a lot on the job. But when they saw him walk through the door, his eyes were red and puffy; looking like he spent the last hour crying. He stops just inside the door and looks at Alex. He takes a second before speaking. "Alex, I need to talk to you. Alone." Stepping outside, it was just Mr. Jensen and her. "Alex, there was an incident an hour ago. Your parents were involved. They died, Alex." The news hits Alex like a ton of bricks. There was no way. It was impossible. "Take me to them." "Alex, I…" "Now!" The two of them jump into the police car leaving the rest of the friends inside the studio. They drive in complete silence and before long, they reach the police station. The station was hectic with officers moving about, but as soon as she walks in the door, they all stop and look her way. The growing pit in Alex's stomach threatened to swallow her at this point. Mr. Jensen puts his hand around Alex's shoulders and walks with her to the back where the elevator was located, eyes following them the whole way. The elevator takes them down to the morgue and she stops just in front of the door. The doors open and her breath catches in her throat. The coroner had placed blankets over the two bodies lying on the table but left the faces exposed. Alex's legs felt like lead as she stepped into the room; time slowed to a halt. There, laying on the tables, faces almost as white as the blankets, were her parents. Her world came crashing in around her in that very instant. Her vision started to darken and there was a roaring in her ears. Mr. Jensen was saying something, but she didn't hear a single word that was said. All she saw was the bodies on the tables in front of her. Without thinking, she just started running. Running out of the station, running away from the image burned into the back of her skull. She ran all the way home; lungs burning and legs about to buckle. She bursts through the door, not bothering to close it. taking the stairs two at a time, she finds herself in her parents' bedroom. Alex finally breaks down, sobbing so hard, she could barely breath. Alex has never felt so empty. She crawls into the bed and drags the blankets over her. It was a little while later when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Alex? Can I come in?" It was Olivia, speaking as softly she could. "No." There was a pause, "Please, talk to me. I'm here for you. We can talk…" Alex doesn't let her finish, "just leave me alone!" Alex was shouting this time. She instantly regretted yelling at her best friend like that when Olivia was just trying to help, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize. After a few moments of silence, muffled steps could be heard going down the stairs and the front door closing. And just like that, it was just Alex and the soul crushing silence of an empty house.

#yautja #predator #alien vs predator #yautja x reader #yautja x human #slow burn

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paleneckauthorcowboy · 8 months

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This fic is a direct follow up to the last fic I posted! This mainly Tim central fic! Please enjoy!

Tim came back to his house, it looked the same as usual; dull and lifeless. But he noticed something... new that had not been there before, it was a tape sitting on top of a folded up note. He decided to watch the tape before reading the note. The video shows a person running through a street at a fast pace, almost if they were in a panic. He sees that the person arrives at Kestins house, the camera pans down to show them trying to open the door but it won't open; it's locked.

The camera pans over to the window as the person filming approaches it. The camera points down as the sound of breaking glass follows. The person quickly crawls through the window and makes their way around the house, seemingly searching for someone or something. They find the bathroom door and unlock it. The camera slowly pans up to show Kestin slumped against the bathroom wall.

The person filming rushes over and drops the camera. It's revealed that Hoodie was the one filming, but due to the dropping of the camera, his head is cut out of the shot. Hoodie checks Kestins pulse. Nothing. He can see Hoodie reaching up to remove his mask but he can't see his face. Hoodie takes a note from Kestins pocket, reads it and puts it into his own. Hoodie puts his mask back on and picks the camera back up, pointing it at Kestin again. Then there's a knock on the door. Hoodie quickly makes an exit out the bathroom window and the tape ends there.

Tim was stunned, was Kestin really dead or was this just a trick to mess with him? He can't tell. He picks up the note that was left for him under the tape. Opening carefully, the letter reads as follows.

"This is your fault, you didn't get him out and for what? Because he tried to defend his boyfriend? You could have helped him, yet you didn't. He is gone because of you, you fail him as a friend. You promised to protect him you fucking liar. This is all your fault."

He wasn't lying, he had planned to get Kestin out. He just didn't know that he had so little time. He never intended to lie, he knows he failed to protect him. He almost forgot the promise that he made all those years ago when they were just teenagers in high school. Why don't we go back then?

It's the start of Tim's senior year, his parents moved him to Alabama due to an expulsion. He was happy that it was his last year of high school, he never really liked people. But, that all changed the day he met Brian. He had such a warm and inviting personality, Tim just could say no to hanging out. They bonded rather quickly, Brian was the first person to make Tim felt... normal, it felt nice. He just couldn't resist that feeling of normality, so he accepted to meet the rest of Brian's friends.

The first one he meets is Alex, a smart guy with a quiet but nice personality, then he met Kaylee, she's kind of a smart ass and a drama queen, then he met Kestin, a sweet boy that seems to always have something in his hands. He liked everyone, they all made him feel happy, he felt human and normal; not to mention his violent tendencies seemed almost nonexistent, they hadn't surfaced in months.

They all usually hung out in a group, aside from the times that just Tim, Brian, and Kaylee spent time together. But today was different, it was just going to be Tim and Kestin hanging out one on one. Everyone else was busy, Tim was going to just cancel but he knew that Kestin would be disappointed so he just remade the plans so that I'd fit better for both of them. The plan was to meet by the football stand and Walk to Tim's car, then he'd drive them both to his house and just chill out there. But, things don't always go as planned.

Tim was approaching the stands, he saw that Kestin was already there. A senior seems to be bothering him, trying to talk to him. Kestin looked very uncomfortable. "Come on pretty boy, I'm such a nice guy." Was the first thing that Tim heard, he saw Kestin cringe. "Am I interrupting something?" Tim asked, looking ready to put himself between the guy and Kestin. He looks relieved to Tim, "no, you're not! I'm glad you're here. Now, we can get going!" Kestin tried to squeeze past the guy but he grabbed him by the wrist.

"Wait, you didn't answer me! Can't you just come over to my place once?" He asked, trying to lean in and box Kestin in, Kestin backed up. "As I said before the answer is no!" He tried to get his arm out of the guy's grip but he only tightened it. "What? Why not?! I'm so nice!" He looked pissed, and like he isn't going to take no for an answer. Tim grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him backwards. "He said no, he doesn't have to explain why. Now, let him go." Tim was glaring at the guy, He let's go of Kestin and Tim let's go of him.

The guy started walking away, "stupid fucking trannie..." He mumbled just loud enough for them both Tim and Kestin to hear. Tim was not happy, he kind of just snapped; he grabbed the guy and decked him in the face, over and over again. It wasn't until Kestin was pulling him off of the guy did Tim come back to reality. His hands were bloodied and the creep was not looking good.

"Woah dude, let's just go!" Kestin looked very frightened by Tim's sudden attack on the guy, Tim didn't say anything and just nodded, not even bothering to wipe the blood off of his hands. They both walked to Tim's car in silence, when they got there Kestin got in and put his backpack on the floorboard. Tim gets into the driver's side and sits there for a moment. He didn't look at Kestin, "I'm so sorry-" Tim couldn't finish an apology because Kestin cut him off.

"Don't apologize, that was freaking sick! I mean it was scary, but like in a cool way?" Kestin rambled, Tim looked over at him. Kestin didn't look afraid anymore, if anything he looked amazed. "Wait, you're not mad or scared after what just happened?" He questioned, Kestin shrugged. "No, why would I be? Sure it freaked me out a little, but on a certain level that was so rad!" Kestin explained how he felt, Tim breathed a sigh of relief. Kestin took a few tissues out of his backpack and handed them to Tim.

"Not to mention, you were just protecting me, I seriously appreciate that." Kestin watched Tim clean the blood off of his hands. Kestin truly is appreciative of what Tim did, mainly because no one else in the group would do it. That's not to say that they wouldn't try to defend him, it's just that most of them are non-confrontational. So, the most that they would do is tell the person to shut up. Tim cherished that Kestin didn't judge him, instead finding him cool.

"I'll always protect you, that's a promise." Tim stated as he started the car, Kestin chuckled. "Thanks dude." Kestin spent the rest of the car ride rambling on about a new comic that he liked and that's all Tim remembers from that day. Which brings us back to the present. He'd failed to keep his promise, he really was just a LIAR.

#brian thomas #hoodie marble hornets #i am cringe but i am free #marble hornets #self insert #tim wright #slenderverse

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ashbrat488 · 1 year

Text

State Of Grace - Chapter 1

Grace sighed as she entered the Thrombey house for the first time in almost ten years when she hears someone’s voice to her right.

"Grace!"

Grace looked to see Linda Drysdale, Ransom's mother, in front of her, "sorry. I zoned out."

"Grace. I'm so glad you're here."

She nodded, hugging Linda, "I'm really sorry for your loss. How is he?"

Linda shrugged, sighing, "thank you dear. And I don't know. I'm not even sure where he is. Harlan was sick for a while, he took it hard. You know how those two were. They fought all the time, but they had a bond Harlan didn't have with anyone else." She hesitated, staring down at Grace, fiddling with the ends of her hair, "well I'm glad you're here. It's been a while."

Grace smiled, "sure." She sighed again, looking at the stairs. She knew where he was. She groaned as she climbed the stairs up to Harlan's attic office. The door was slightly open as she stood in the doorway, watching him just sitting there.

Ransom looked up with a sigh even though his heart raced as his eyes met hers. "Gracie. What are you doing here?"

She scoffed as she entered the room, "I'm here to pay my respects to your grandfather. And... to check on you."

He turned away from her, hanging his head down as he stared at the floor. He was still embarrassed at how he treated her the last time he saw her. "Well you aren't family, so you shouldn't be up here."

"Ransom." She went to touch his arm but he stood up and moved away from her, facing away from her, pretending to look at some books. "Still an ass I see."

He groaned, looking at the ground as he heard her leave, slamming the door behind her. "Fuck." He turned back quickly to the door, chasing after her.

Grace heard the door open behind her as she reached the bottom of the stairs and Ransom grabbed her hand.

"I'm sorry Gracie."

She turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown.

He reached out, running his fingers through her blonde hair, "you look good."

She nodded in agreement, "and you look like shit. Are you high?"

He pulled his hand back with a roll of his eyes, "you know you don't have to be such a bitch."

She brought her hand up to hit him hard in the chest, "I'll let that go, today. I'm going. Thank your mom for inviting me." She left him standing in the hall, slipping out of the house without having to talk to or see anyone else. She reached her car before looking back at the house once more seeing Ransom watching her from the balcony. She shook her head before getting in her car and driving off.

"Was that Grace leaving?"

Ransom turned around to his mother, "yeah. Why did you invite her?" He pushed past her, downstairs to the main floor, hearing her following him. He went into Harlan's study, sitting in one of the oversized chairs.

Linda stood in the doorway, watching her son, "you used to be best friends Ransom, what happened?"

Ransom scoffed, "that was a long time ago mom. We aren't friends anymore."

"Why?"

He stood up, "none of your business!" He pushed past her, hearing his father Richard.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!"

Ransom looked at his father and rolled his eyes, "father," before grabbing his coat. He slammed the front door behind him as he left the house.

***

Ransom drove around for a while before driving to the pier. He parked his car, and walked a few yards to a small clearing overlooking the harbor. He smiled when he saw her sitting there.

Grace sighed as she felt Ransom sit next to her, "what are you doing here?"

He nudged her shoulder, "I showed you this place, remember?" He hesitated, watching her avoid his gaze, "you always came here whenever we fought. I'm sorry."

She finally looked at him, seeing his eyes bloodshot and red, "for what? Making me look like an idiot in front of everyone at your graduation when I said I wanted to be with you? For waiting so long, only admitting your feelings when it was too late. Ignoring me for the last almost ten years?"

Ransom groaned, "I didn't think I was good enough for you."

She scoffed, shaking her head, "right. You were the one not good enough. While I was good enough to be friends with and sleep with as long as no one knew. You were Ransom Drysdale. I was just some poor nerd girl that wasn't good enough to be seen with you." She stood up, "I'm sorry about Harlan. I really am. You know how much I loved him. But I can't do this with you. I only came to check on you because your mother asked me to. We're better off not being friends. Just leave me alone."

He groaned again, standing up. He grabbed her hand as she began to walk away, pulling her to him with a gasp, "no. I was always the one not good enough for you. Even now I know I'm not. I'm sorry Gracie. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry. How often do I say that?" He smiled at her smirk.

"Ransom.."

He brought his hand to her chin, pressing his lips softly to hers as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, "you always made me a better person, Gracie."

She sighed as he rested his head against hers. "I know. But you should want to be better for you. Not for me, Ransom." She brought her hand up to the nape of his neck, kissing him once more before pulling away. "I'm sorry."

He stood, watching her walk away from him again, wondering how many times would he have to watch her walk away from him.

Chapter 2

State of Grace

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale x OC

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rosethornewrites · 2 years

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The reblog about Native spirits reminded me of the times when I learned not to fuck with the paranormal. I’m at least somewhat sensitive, and I’ve learned to close off.

First: When I was 12-13 and at a church youth retreat for my Confirmation class (yeah, grew up Christian), for some reason someone brought out a Ouija board. At one point I was using it with our pastor (I don’t know how this happened), and a spirit told me she was my ancestor, gave her name, and said she was from Sweden. I disregarded this until a couple years ago when I was working on our family tree. My great-great grandfather’s wife shared her name, and was from Sweden. The pastor would have had no way of knowing this back in the early 90s.

Second: Same night, the girls who liked to bully me got me to use it with them. I saw an opportunity to play a prank, and I moved the planchette to tell them they would die getting hit by a car. The next day, they came to me pale and shaking, and asked if I’d moved the planchette. They’d gone to a gas station for snacks down the road and had nearly been hit by a car. I have no idea if it’s anything other than a correlation, but I would never touch a Oujia board ever again.

Third: In high school, a friend of mine who lived near a forest preserve noticed that all the deer came out of the forest reserve at night. You could walk right toward them and they would refuse to go back in. So we did what stupid kids do: we went into the forest. We were about 200 meters in when a weird ball of mist coalesced on the path about 50 meters ahead, then came toward us. We booked it.

Fourth: In college, on break, another friend and I decided we’d go to a place well known as a mob dumping ground because it was rumored to have ghosts. This was my last time fucking with the paranormal, because something followed me home. I was driving straight, and an air freshener I had wedged in the passenger side visor to keep the broken light switch off somehow became unwedged and flew across the car to hit me in the shoulder, hard. Again, as I was driving on a straight road. I was staying with another friend at the time, and her cats went nuts the moment I came home. She wound up reading the Bible aloud to get it to leave.

Fifth: After my dad died, he visited me in dreams, talking about things that had just happened. At one point, before the memorial, I heard his slippers shuffling in the hallway when I was half-asleep. Once he came to my dream all excited, but my alarm went off before he could talk to me. It turned out a player had been traded from my favorite baseball team to his, totally something he’d call to gloat about, so I knew why he’d come to my dream right away.

I learned to be closed off, and one of the last times I opened was when my mom took me to the location where my father passed away, to see if he was there. He wasn’t. He still sometimes visits me in dreams, but it’s pretty rare anymore.

When my grandmother died in 2019 to dementia, my mom and I were racing to the nursing home to be with her when she passed. We parked, and suddenly I had a feeling we were too late. Didn’t tell my mom, and we hurried in. Her phone rang with the news before we reached her room. Afterward, while end of life issues were being dealt with, I sat outside the room with her body, and I let myself open, and she came to me. She was worried about the family, and rightly so since there was a lot of strife over end of life care and one of my family members is still angry and blaming folks that she died. But I told her we would be okay, and Grandpa (he died before I was born) had been waiting an awfully long time to dance with her again, and she should go join him. And I felt her leave. (I actually freaked out one of my family members, too, when one of them was all “I can feel her spirit right above us,” and I said, “Actually, she’s standing next to Aunt J.”)

This is something I don’t talk about a whole lot, mostly because people get weird about it, but it’s my truth. I don’t go looking for spirits, and I certainly don’t do anything stupid that would draw their attention to me or upset them. We may not understand the paranormal, but it’s always good to be respectful of it regardless.

I hate most ghost hunting shows, since they largely stir things up in ways that could be dangerous to folks beyond them.

#spirits #paranormal #respect

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darkmatters-ghost · 4 months

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I don't know why I feel the need to share this, maybe it's because it's been on my mind and it's 2:41 am and it's currently the "time is sludge... Again" part of the insomniac experience, but I want to talk about this. (This talks about my experience with happy stimming under the cut)

It was several years ago when I saw this comic of someone's happy stimming. She, like, waves her arms around and builds up this lovely yellow hue, and it's sparkly and then she expels all of it as at once and- it's truly a wonderful comic. I don't know where it is now. But it really captures the right feeling. And it was so cool... But I was kind of... I feel bad using strong words like "mortified" but that's the best way to say it.

Because Stimming was one of the many, MANY things I have in common with our lovely autistic community. And we're entering a world where people are starting to be able to be who we are and act how we feel, and I knew from the moment I saw it, that something was wrong. I didn't have a happy stim.

Most people who stim are forced to stop because humans are so bad at appreciating the abnormal, and that never happened to me. I'm lucky! But I didn't have a happy stim. And I knew I was supposed to. I immediately knew that. Knew it about me, me as a person. I knew it. There was a hole in me that was taken and I didn't know why! And it was terrifying.

And I kept thinking, And and I kept digging.

I knew about physical stims. With your hands and your feet and your hair. Most of my stims were those. I'd bounce my leg under a table, I tap the pads of my fingers together with my thumb if I was a specific kind of anxious, I move the bones in my wrists back to where they're supposed to be to try and fix things instinctually.

All of those were to get less anxious though. And my mother was always so open to things like that. So willing to learn about every diagnosis and piece of information that needed researching.

I knew about vocal stims. While most people were forced to stop for more crummy society reasons, that wasn't the case for me. I just... Didn't have any? I enjoy talking, I enjoy singing but they weren't... That comic. They didn't have the yellow feel-good-ness. They didn't have The thing.

I like swinging on swingsets. The momentum is nice. I think that counts as a stim but I usually did it to help, wouldn't-cha know it, anxiety. Help me sleep at night. It wasn't the thing.

In my house, you didn't listen to songs on repeat. My mother would lose it. You didn't loop songs in the car, it'd drive her batty. She'd probably have a panic attack. So I never thought of it as a thing? It didn't occur to me. When I got my own pair of headphones, I wouldn't drive her crazy by listening to anything on loop, I could go forever if I wanted. But I didn't. It wasn't a thing and I was apprehensive about it, that's not a thing we do. Don't to it. Even when my mind got loud about playing things on loop, I tried not to let it overcome me. That's not a thing. People don't do that. And I'd long since settled with the dismal answer of never knowing what the stim was. I hadn't even thought of checking because sounds like asmr hurt like sandpaper on my brain.

But recently, I don't know, something changed? I reeeally needed to hear this song again. So I went to the instrumental. And it was great there. I went to the vocal only, it was just the goodest sound. I went to covers and back and eventually I just let it play. I really let it smoosh into my head and memorized the instruments and felt them. It was like following a groove in a table by tracing your finger across it. It was just. The thing. I actually lost sleep because I was enjoying myself so much. I was so happy!

I talked with my mother about it. "I dunno, I really really wanted to hear that song over and over? it has a BAGPIPE in the second verse! Who wouldn't want to hear that!?"

"yeah, I could never do that. I guess my misophonia is too strong for that."

It was so eye opening. Misophonia. It was her misophonia, she'd never used that word before. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. Listening to this song on loop isn't bad, it's just a me thing.

And that's when I realized that I'd found the thing. I'd finally found my happy stim. I've decided to not cry about it, but this was such wonderful news. It's needlessly specific, and I don't know why my kid mind had labed "no looping" as Gospel? I mean there's a button for it and everything. But it's my thing.

I may never have some visible stim that people will see but I have my thing and I'm so beyond society possibly judging me.

I am on ADD meds, have overstimulation issues, anxiety, truly frightening physical disabilities I fight all beneath the surface. And I play the songs that have the thing about them on loop for five hours at a time. And I think I love me for it.

Whoever you are, you're you. You're more you than anyone else. That is something beautiful. You like Fanfic, go for it! You like art? Go for it! You like flapping your hands? Go for it! You like judging Disney for its questionable decisions as of late? Try not to kill them too much. They only mostly deserve it.

Being you is a gift that you should cherish, and reward yourself by being you. Not someone else.

For those that read this whole thing, the song in question is I've Had Enough of You from Billie Bust Up, a video game musical that's currently in development. Listen to all the stuff that's out so far, every song I've heard knocks it out of the park. Listen to it on loop if you want! I think we've established that listening to songs on loop does not, in fact, summon Satan.

Happy Stimming! (why does that sound like a holiday now?)

#Happy stimming #list of things my brain decided that people need to hear #be you and all that #this is so vastly far from everything else I've posted #about my fandoms and projects and stuff #but here we are and I don't regret it #Billie Bust Up #that games so freaking good #to play AND listen to #the creators will probably never know that it changed my life before even releasing but y'know #the song also has a concertina!

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my-never-ending-nightmare · 9 months

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Anyone else ever had to make a split-second decision at some point in your life that, despite being the most sensible choice, was so thoroughly questioned and rebuked by somebody that it planted a seed of doubt in the back of your mind that stuck with you and caused you to scrutinize yourself long after everyone else has forgotten about it?

Like, I don’t mean you did (or didn’t) do something that had repercussions for someone else but rather that someone else believed you should have taken a course of action that you believed would have been a bad idea - and yet despite that their point of view stood in such stark contrast to yours that it made you question whether or not you were perceiving things correctly at all?

My own experience with what I’m trying to describe started three years ago when a good friend and I were hanging out one night driving around in my car when, along a stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere, we saw these two dogs walking or running along the shoulder of the road and a pickup truck pulling over in front of them. This dude got out of the truck, quite violently, grabbed them and threw them one at a time into the bed of the truck before getting back in the driver's seat and pulling a U-turn before turning onto the closest side road.

As you can imagine, seeing this was rather alarming and distressing - and my friend wanted me to follow that truck down the side road to try and find out what was happening. So I obliged. And about a kilometer down that road, we found it parked next to a garage or barn of some sort that sat about 13 meters or so away from a house. It was pitchback save for the truck's lights and thus impossible to make out what was happening. But we could hear the dogs barking if I'm not mistaken. Or maybe I'm just imagining that part. But in either case, it was definitely the same truck we had just seen on the highway.

And that's when I had to make that aforementioned split-second decision. Because my friend wanted me to drive right up in there to find out exactly what was going on. And as emotionally inclined as I was to do that, the more rational side of me had to tell her no, that's not a good idea. She was not happy about that. And I don't blame her. Because I found what we had seen to be as upsetting as she did, and I wanted to make sure those dogs were OK just as much as she did. But it's not worth dying over.

I told her that driving up onto some stranger's property a off dirt road in the middle of nowhere at 3 o'clock in the morning was a terrible idea to begin with - but that doing so with the intention of confronting the owner about something was an even worse idea. I told her that there are people in the world who wouldn't even bother asking questions or demanding that you'd leave - the types of people who would only call the cops after they've shot you. And, speaking of police, I told her that trespassing at night is a serious criminal offense around here and that they don't waste time issuing trespass notices or fines: they just take you straight to jail. And then I tried to assure her (and perhaps myself also) that in all likelihood what had happened was that those were his dogs who had escaped/runoff and that he had gone after them in his truck - and that once he had found them he was so frustrated that he was rough with them as punishment.

But this did little to console her. She thought I was being ridiculous - that the things I was worried about were so outlandish that they couldn't possibly happen. But she had no fear at all - and so she said she would go up there and find out what was going on herself. And again, I had to tell her no.

We're leaving.

She wasn't happy about that at all, but I knew I had made the right decision. At least, I knew that then. It wasn't until afterwards that I started to doubt that. And in the weeks, months, and years that followed, I thought about that night a lot. Not every day or anything - but close enough. And whenever something made me think of that night I felt like a fool. I felt like my friend was right. That I was worried about things that were preposterous. And that paranoia was driving me that night - not caution.

This went on for years. Until last spring.

I believe it was late winter when this started happening, but all of a sudden there seemed to be almost daily headlines making international news about people being shot for little to no reason by their neighbors in America. And every time I saw one of these stories my mind went back to that night - but every story was too dissimilar to the situation we faced that night for them to sway me. They all seemed to involve a history of dispute between neighbors that ultimately cumulated in a shooting. It wasn't until I saw the news about that young woman in upstate New York who got lost while driving to a friend's house and pulled into a stranger's laneway so that she could turn around when that stranger, sitting on his porch, fired two shots and killed her right there and then. No questions asked, no demands made.

And suddenly I felt vindicated.

Which is exactly what I felt again today when work had me drive right past the exact road where this all happened between my friend and me all those years ago. Vindicated. Not in a celebratory, I-told-you-so sort of way. But rather a relieved, I'm-not-crazy sort of way. Like, for all those years that night was something that I felt ashamed of and embarrassed about. I had begun to feel like I truly was being ridiculous that night. But now I know I was just trying to keep us both safe - because it turns out the things I had been worried about that night aren't so far-fetched after all.

I'm not crazy. Or maybe I am. But there are other people more crazy than me.

#long post #thoughts

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yhwhrulz · 1 year

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Today's Daily Encounter Friday, January 13, 2023

Acts of Kindness

"Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall."1

I read the following story about a hospice physician living in Denver, Colorado and his experience in showing God's kindness to a desperate mother.

I was driving home from a meeting this evening, got stuck in traffic, and the car died - I barely managed to coast into a gas station. At least I wouldn't be blocking traffic and would have a spot to wait for the tow truck. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the gas station mart, she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I went to see if she was okay.

When I got there, she was sobbing, but not from the fall. She was a young woman who looked overwhelmed with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the old suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95. I asked if she was okay, and she kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying," so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. I asked, "You were praying right?" That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, "He heard you, and He sent me."

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car, and while it was fueling, walked to McDonald's and bought 2 bags of food, gift certificates for more, and a cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who devoured it, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She lived in Kansas City. Her spouse had left 2 months ago, and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent on the first, and in desperation, called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them until she got on her feet.

I gave her my gloves and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, "So, are you like an angel or something?"

This made me cry. I said, "Angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people." When I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem.2

Suggested prayer: Lord, use me to be part of your greater plan. Help me be aware of how you want to use me, even when it causes an interruption in my plans. Your ways are always great than mine. Use me to bless someone today. In Jesus' name, amen.

Psalm 55:22 (NLT).

www.sermoncentral.com

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

Daily Encounter is published at no charge by ACTS International, a non-profit organization, and made possible through the donations of interested friends. Donations can be sent at: http://www.actscom.com

ACTS International P.O. Box 73545 San Clemente, California 92673-0119 U.S.A.

Phone: 949-940-9050 http://www.actsweb.org

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pellucid-constellations · 3 years

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Convalescence

Pairing: Paramedic!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Recovery is a long process; Bucky knows that better than anyone. He just really needs to get you standing before he can get down on one knee.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Descriptions of injury

a/n: This is a part two to my fic ‘Flashing Lights’! Read part one here!! Sorry for taking ten years to write it, but here it is!! :)

You can follow my library blog @pellucid-library for fic update notifications 🤍

Masterlist

Part One

The red lights filtered through your living room window before the sirens sounded off. They were quick—just a heads up that it was your boyfriend banging up the stairs to your apartment. You rushed to grab your things before he got inside, but with your legs still stiff from your surgery all those weeks ago, ‘rushing’ was nearly impossible.

“Hey, pretty girl, you ready to go?” Bucky called out, his boots heavy against the hardwood.

“Just a sec!” you yelled. “I need to grab my jacket.”

“The one at the top of the closet? I’ll get it for you, don’t move.”

“No, no. I got it, Buck. Just let me—uh, hold on, I just need to—” You knocked over a few boxes from the top shelf, sidestepping them to the best of your ability.

Bucky’s footsteps were then hurried in the hallway. “You okay back there? I’m gonna come help you, just hang on.”

You let out a huff and hobbled back, abandoning your plans to be independent. It’s not like you weren’t used to it; your life had been an endless loop of needing help, and the plastic braces on your legs always exacerbated things. Bucky appeared in the doorway a moment later, his lips turning up in a small smile after his eyes had assessed you for any damage.

He reached up and grabbed the jacket, giving your chin an affectionate tap as he passed it to you. “There we go. Now you won’t get wet in the rain.”

“Great,” you grumbled. “Now if I could only get dressed by myself, this would be a perfect day.”

Bucky tugged you to his chest and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Aw come on, pretty girl, it’s not so bad. You walked all the way back here by yourself. That’s progress!”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Someone get this on camera! I can walk down the hallway.”

“Hey, at least the accident didn’t take away from your sense of humor.”

Your life had also been an endless loop of Bucky’s positivity. The second the doctor cleared you to go home, he was all smiles and encouraging words. You took it as residual worry; just Bucky still dealing with the emotions from the crash. Bucky saw it… differently. In his eyes, the more supportive he was, the less you would want to get back in a car on your own.

The chest patches on his uniform scratched against your cheeks as you pulled away. “You ready to take me to the hospital now, Dr. Barnes?”

“Definitely not a doctor, sweetheart.” He brushed his thumb against your cheek before leaning in for a quick kiss. “But yes. I’m sure Wanda’s very excited for your appointment. She’s been goin’ on and on about how well you’re doing. Tells everybody on her floor about ya.”

Your cheeks burned. “I’m not doing that well. She’s just being nice.”

Bucky started leading you out of the apartment, a protective hand pressed to the small of your back. You knew he would have preferred to just pick you up and carry you out, but since you started physical therapy, you had been adamant about doing things on your own. And Bucky had been very hesitant to agree.

“I’ll be the judge of that one.” He lifted you up when you reached the stairs outside. Some things were still too hard. “I’m gonna sit in on your appointment today. Gotta see how you’re doin’. And there’s the business of you getting these off.” His pointer finger tapped at the brace on your calf.

“You have time for that? I thought you had a full shift today.”

“Got Stevie to cover for me. Been workin’ too much and I miss my girl.”

He set you down in front of the ambulance, opening the passenger door and guiding you in. Once he had you settled, he slid in himself and put the van in drive.

“Buck, you don’t have to pick me up in this thing every time. We could always take a cab,” you said, glancing at the medical equipment in the back of the vehicle.

“Nah, we couldn’t take a cab. Cabs can’t get through traffic if there’s an emergency.”

“I hardly think my physical therapy appointment constitutes an emergency.”

“Guess not, but it’s still bigger than a cab, you know? Safer that way. Those tiny cabs are like death machines.”

There it was—the massive, ever present elephant in the room. Ever since the accident, Bucky hadn’t allowed you within ten feet of any vehicle smaller than a minivan. You had offered to catch a cab to your appointments plenty of times, but he never agreed. He was always bounding up those apartment steps every week with keys in hand. And if it wasn’t the ambulance, it was Bucky’s massive pickup truck that took up too much space on New York City’s narrow streets.

“You know, Bucky,” you cautiously replied, “I’m going to have to drive myself places eventually. Maybe even have to take a cab every once in a while. Your supervisor’s going to stop giving you time off eventually.”

He tucked his hair behind his ear, metal whirring with the movement of his arm. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes, sweetheart. For now, just let me get you to the hospital.”

You shut up after that; Bucky’s eyes became shifty and his left knee started to bounce to a rhythm you couldn’t place. You had made him nervous.

You seemed to do that a lot since the accident.

The first time you realized it was over the phone. It was two weeks after you got home from the hospital, and you called him at work to let him know the power had gone out in your building. He didn’t even let it ring once.

“You okay? I can be there in fifteen minutes, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He hadn’t even said hello.

Once Bucky realized you were, in fact, okay, and there was no reason for him to be running down the halls of the hospital with Steve trailing behind him, the conversation ran a bit smoother. He was still uncomfortable with you being home alone with no mobility and no power, but you reassured him you were fine. He sent Sam to the apartment anyway.

Then there was the incident at the restaurant; the incident that you were convinced was entirely no one’s fault, but Bucky begged to differ. It was your first real outing since Wanda cleared you to walk short distances. Bucky took you to the Chinese place one door down from your apartment. Everything was fine—great even.

Until you got up to go to the bathroom.

“I got it, Buck. What, are you gonna go in with me too?” Your tone was light, but you weren’t messing around. You needed to make this small walk by yourself.

“I know you got it. But I think it’d be better if I just—”

It was a Friday night. The restaurant was busy. Of course standing in the middle of a walkway would get you flat on your back, a tray of ice water toppling over your chest, and the stocky waiter hovering over you. His eyes were wide as he attempted to help you up, but his body was ripped from yours in an instant.

Bucky was not a violent man; he comforted old women when they fell down the stairs and held children when they cried outside of house fires. He baked cookies with you when you were sad and bought Alpine special cat food when she was sick. Bucky was a good man. But Bucky saw you half-dead in the middle of the street, and that follows a person.

“What the hell is your problem, man?” he seethed. The waiter was tossed into the table as Bucky crouched beside you. “Are you blind? The girl as braces on her legs and you go pushing her like fucking ass.”

“Bucky—”

“Is it that hard to look? You probably set her back weeks.”

In all honesty, the fall didn’t exactly feel great; you landed weird on your already tender back and one of your knees bent more than it was ready to. All that, and your shirt was completely soaked through. You were also pretty sure one of the plastic cups had knocked you over the head, but that was the least of your worries.

You hid any discomfort on your face to save the horrified looking teenager leaning against the table. But Bucky could always tell when something was wrong, and the night was over before it had started.

“I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see her, I swear. I can comp your meals and—and—”

“Just leave,” Bucky grumbled. The waiter didn’t need to be told twice. “You're alright, sweetheart, right? Tell me if this hurts or if you can’t feel it.”

His hands were steady on either side of your neck, pressing his fingers into points that probably had meaning. When he was satisfied up there, he reached down and started feeling up your spine. Each time you didn’t cry out in pain, he gave himself a satisfied nod.

“Bucky, I’m really okay. People are staring and my knee kinda hurts—”

Wrong thing to say. Bucky picked you up before you could finish talking, and had you in Natasha’s office so fast it made your head spin.

You had been fine—obviously—but that was just one instance in the chain of events that was Bucky’s worrying.

He was more subtle about it the healthier you got. Instead of body slamming a waiter for running into you, he would create a barrier between you and those that walked by you, his body acting as a wall. When he couldn’t cart you around in a wheelchair anymore, he would snake his arm around your waist and lift you up just enough so that you had no weight pressing into the ground.

And of course, there were the ‘check ups’. For the first month you were home, Bucky greeted you every morning with a full diagnostic; limb movement, temperature check (he didn’t want you to get an infection), antibiotics, a rollerball on your back, and then you could get out of bed. When you stopped letting him do that, you could feel the way his fingers still assessed your tendons when you sat with him on the couch. And you swore he was kneading the muscles in your back as you slept because there was no way it felt so good right after waking up.

But Bucky loved you, and you loved him. You knew if things were the other way around, you would be doing just as much. So you let him fret over you and acted like you didn’t notice, all to give him peace of mind.

Today though. Today was different.

Wanda said you might get to take the braces off, and unfortunately for Bucky, you weren’t going to let him talk you out of it.

What you didn’t know was that Bucky wanted you out of those things almost as much as you did. Because he had plans; plans that involved you standing on your own two legs, free from any reminders of the incident, and wholly, completely focused on him.

With a final turn into the back of the hospital parking lot, Bucky snatched the keys out of the ignition and jogged to the other side to help you.

“Ah, ah, Mr. Barnes,” you chided, slipping your feet down. “If I’m getting these suckers off, then I need to be able to get out of a car on my own.”

“Sweetheart, this thing’s huge. Lemme just—”

“Bucky,” you warned.

He sighed, but backed off with raised hands. You struggled a little as you shimmied down, and Bucky’s lip disappeared between his teeth when your feet connected with the ground, but you did it. A swell of pride consumed your chest at such a simple task; it seemed like things were actually starting to get better.

“I did it, Buck,” you laughed. “I actually got out of a car by myself.”

His eyes shone, hands stuffed into the pockets of his work pants. “You did, pretty girl. Saw with my own two eyes.”

The smile you threw back at him sent a heat through his chest that he hadn’t felt in a while. A part of you had vanished in the accident; the part that Bucky loved the most. The smiles and the laughs and the witty humor that made him hunch over and wheeze. Little by little, that spark within you started to reignite; the more you healed, the more you came back to him.

He hoped you would be cleared today, because if you were, then the rest of the night was going to really bring that light out of you. At least he hoped it would.

“Let’s get those things off of ya.” He swung his arm over your shoulders, guiding you to the physical therapy floor of the hospital. But he still didn’t put the full weight of his arm on you. You hoped that would stop soon; that you would feel normal again.

“Wait, don’t you think she should hold on until—”

“Barnes, I will kick you out of this room so fast.”

“Wanda, I was just saying. Maybe she holds on until after she takes them off.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wanda scoffed, continuing to unbuckle the braces on your legs. “Did you go to physical therapy school? No, you didn’t. Don’t make me get Natasha.”

Bucky slid down further in the tiny plastic chair, hand coming up to rub at his forehead. He had been doing really well not saying anything during the appointment, even when you could see the way his knee bounced when you hissed through your teeth, legs still sensitive to the touch. It wasn’t until it was time to take the braces off that he spoke up.

“Bucky, the worst that’ll happen is that I fall flat on my face. And Wanda won��t let that happen. The ortho said I was good to go on the inside; all the rods are in place. It’s just up to me at this point,” you explained.

He could tell you were nervous. You always rambled when you were nervous.

“You don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”

You shot him a look. “I’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be ready.” He stood, kneeling in front of your chair as Wanda prepped the room for your walk. “There’s always next week. Or the week after that. Hell, I’d be willing to cart you around on my back until we were old and gray if you wanted.”

He looked so sincere. Bucky’s hands had come up to rest gently on your newly uncovered thighs, and you tried to imagine being an outsider in this situation; being one of the people Bucky saved off of their bedroom floor or at the playground. His kind eyes bore into yours as he smiled that half smile that won you over and it made you feel safe.

It would make anyone who looked at him feel safe.

Bucky was a good paramedic, but more than that, he was a good man; a good man that was yours. And you wanted to be whole for him.

“I want to do it now,” you whispered. “For us. To get our lives back on track.”

“I don’t care what track my life’s on, pretty girl. S’long as you're on it.”

“Alright you big flirt. But I can’t keep those things on forever. I do have a job outside of sitting on our couch you know.”

He laughed, the curve of his finger bringing your chin down to press his lips to yours. “I’d say that’s not too bad of a job,” he said against your skin. “Wouldn’t mind my wife sitting on the couch everyday when I got home.”

A surprised sound escaped your throat just as Wanda clapped her hands, disorienting you further.

Wife? You and Bucky had always talked about getting married, but he hadn’t brought it up a single time since the accident. You were actually getting a little worried that he stopped thinking about it. Springing a word like that at you right before you had to take the test of a lifetime was jarring.

“Everybody ready?” Wanda smiled.

Bucky gave your leg a comforting rub, an unknowing smile on his face before you spoke, “Uh, yeah. Ready, Wanda.”

It was hard. Walking without the braces to support your weakened muscles was beyond hard. And you weren’t even allowed to hold onto anything; for months you had the rails to guide you, and now you were walking with absolutely nothing. Your shoes appeared too big compared to your shrunken ankles, the scars on your legs screamed angrily back at you as you took them in.

Bucky nodded to you with kind, encouraging eyes, but all you felt was embarrassment. What kind of adult didn’t know how to walk? Who else had to look their boyfriend in the eye and attempt to take their first steps like some toddler? Not to mention the pain. After not being on your feet for such a long period of time, everything ached. Your feet, your ankles, even in your bones.

You could feel the air in your lungs start to burn. You couldn’t do this, not with everyone’s eyes on you. This was humiliating; it hurt and they were looking at you with so much hope and you could fail. You brought a hand up to clutch at the material of your shirt—to yank it away from your heaving breaths—when metal met your skin.

“Look at me.” Bucky’s level voice brought you to the surface of a water you didn’t know you were under, but you couldn’t break through yet. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Dazed eyes snapped up to his, and he continued, “You feel that? You feel the metal?” He pressed the vibranium hand to your cheek. “I did this, just like you. It hurts and it doesn’t feel good. I was so angry at myself—at my body—for not just doin’ what I wanted it to. I wanted it to be like how it used to be right away. That Stark scientist showed up with his fancy briefcase, and I thought I was home free.

“But—hey, look at me, y/n,” he stressed, bringing your fallen eyes back up. “It was nothin’ like that. Stevie came with me to the appointments to get me used to the prosthetic and I couldn’t even grab a damn apple. Kept rollin’ all over the place and I even crushed a few. Got him right in the eye with apple juice a few times”

Your eyelashes fluttered, and Bucky took that as a good sign. He started to shift your weight away from him.

“Was real embarrassed too. I couldn’t even do my job for a full year. Couldn’t look any of the guys in the eye without feelin’ stupid. I had an arm, I should’ve been able to use it, right? But it’s not that easy. It wasn’t for me, and it’s not for you.” When your breathing evened out, he steadied you on your feet. “You with me, pretty girl?”

Your chest felt normal again—good and even. “Yeah, sorry, I just—it was just—”

“It’s a lot. I get it. Take your time, sweetheart. Like I told you, ‘old and gray’.”

You glanced over Bucky’s shoulder, receiving a reassuring nod from Wanda. You were on your own feet again, you realized; it was now or never.

With a deep breath, and Bucky’s words ringing through your head, you took a step. And then another. They were jerky and stiff, but they were steps. Your lashes fluttered again, but this time it was in surprise.

You just had to make it to the line on the other side of the room. Then you could get braces off and be one step closer to your old life with Bucky; the one that didn’t have him escorting you out of cars and carrying you down the stairs.

Just a few more steps. You were starting to sweat, but that wasn’t going to deter you.

“C’mon, sweetheart, almost there.” Bucky's hand was covering his mouth as he spoke, nerves increasing with anticipation. Wanda wasn't reacting as much, and you had to remind yourself that she was a professional and not just your close friend. Bucky’s career always blurred the lines there.

As soon as the line of tape hit the tip of your shoe, a breathy laugh escaped your chest, filling the room with the most amazing sounds Bucky had ever heard. Because you were laughing with yourself this time, at something you did; something you were proud of.

“God, I knew you could do it. My girl’s amazing, isn’t she, Maximoff?” His arms wound around your waist, lifting you as you continued your broken laughs. “Go on, tell her.”

Wanda leaned against the wall, shaking her head fondly. “She is pretty amazing. But she’s been putting up with you for years, so I already knew that.”

The room blurred past your eyes as Bucky spun you, kisses pressed into your neck with each praise he showered you with. And you had only taken about ten steps; you didn’t even want to consider what he’d do when you walked down an entire block. Actually, maybe you did want to consider it. With those shackles off of your legs, there was a lot you wanted to consider.

Bucky nuzzled his head further into your neck with so much glee that you were beginning to question his intentions. You thought he would’ve been opposed to you being able to walk free; no more braces meant much more freedom—more dangerous opportunities. So why did the smile against your skin rival the sun?

“So—” Wanda trailed off, halting Bucky’s never ending kisses. “You two have plans then? Bet you can pick out a cute outfit now that you don’t have those hunks of plastic on your legs.”

You craned your neck down at Bucky, still hoisted up in his arms. “I mean I don’t think so. Do we, Buck?”

Bucky raised an unamused brow at Wanda—who, by the way, knew all about Bucky’s master plan—before giving you an adoring smile. “I’ll figure somethin’ out to celebrate, pretty girl. This is a big day for you. You just get dressed when we get home.”

“Well I mean if you insist.”

He could get used to this; to the way you left his chest compressed with your smile. Your real smile. The one he fell in love with.

After holding up about a dozen dresses to your body in front of the mirror, you decided on pants. Pants would hide the ugly scars that ran up your legs—red and cruel and a reminder. At least you didn’t have to wear shorts anymore.

Plus, Bucky hadn’t told you where you were going.

“Almost ready, sweetheart?” he called.

“Yeah, just give me about ten minutes to walk down the hall.”

Bucky laughed, and it wasn’t one of those uncomfortable, pity laughs he’d been giving you. Who knew hobbling a few steps in the hospital would lift such a weight off of his chest? Again, it was almost strange to you. Of course Bucky wanted you to walk comfortably, but something was different about him; he was more…confident, sure of himself.

When you finally re-entered the living room, you were surprised to find Bucky still in his uniform.

“Did you get called in?” you asked, trying to mask the disappointment in your tone.

He quickly raised his hands. “No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t leave ya after such a big day,” he smiled. “I just thought that maybe this would—uh, you know what, can you grab my coat out of the closet for me? Now that you’re a walkin’ woman and all.”

You laughed. “Did you wait to get ready just so I could walk to the closet all by myself?”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

He was acting very strange, and you had to repress a second laugh as you started your trek to the closet. When you flung the door open, Bucky’s usual black overcoat wasn’t hung up. And he most likely knew that. You gripped the metal handle a little tighter.

“Buck, your coat’s not even in here,” you looked at him from over your shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Oh!” he flung his head back in feigned forgetfulness. “You know what I think it fell off the hanger. D’you see it on the ground?”

With furrowed brows, you glanced back in the closet. Sure enough, it was lying on the ground in a massive heap. Which was unusual considering there were only two things hung up in this closet at all times.

“What, is this some type of bending test? Bucky, there are much easier ways to test the dexterity of my knees than playing mind games with me.”

But you bent anyway—very slowly—and grabbed his jacket, only to uncover a very out of place cardboard box when you did so. You had spent every day of the last few months in this apartment; you knew what was in here and where it was. Bending again, you snatched it in your hand.

“What’s this?”

“C’mere, I’ll open it.”

He flipped a tool out of one of the many pockets of his uniform, and sliced through the tape covering the crease. He was taking his time to slowly open it, shifting certain corners away from you.

“Bucky,” you whined. “This feels like a riddle or something. What the hell are you doing?”

“Well I saved a few of these,” he began, pulling something out of the box. “Figured I’d need ‘em for some grand romantic gesture the moment I met you.”

And he shoved a sticker in your face. The same sticker he used to flirt with you all those years ago at the children’s fair. It was an almost perfect replica of the patch currently on Bucky’s chest, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t transport you to the first day you met, with his, “I’d break the rules for you any day, sweetheart” and the ever so charming, “you gotta boyfriend walkin’ around here somewhere?”.

You cracked a confused smile. “Okay—cute, but why the gesture?”

“Ah, you don’t remember? I think I promised you a whole box of these on our first date, didn’t I?”

“You did. Which you did bring me. And then we donated them back a few years later. At least I thought we donated them.”

“Oh, you’re right, sweetheart. Of course.” The looks you were throwing at him were comical as he faked exasperation. “So you think I’m a bad guy for not sending them all back?”

“Bucky—what are you going on about?”

“Wanna take a look inside and tell me if I should donate the rest?”

Humoring your half-mad boyfriend, you glanced inside.

And then with wide eyes, you shot your head back up. “Bucky,” you choked. “That’s not—”

“It is.” His tone was low. “Now I’m gonna get on my knee in front of my girl, and she’s gonna stand while I propose to her.”

Your waterline glistened as you tracked his figure down, a joyful sob bubbling up in your throat. He looked so unbelievably happy to be doing this; to be on the floor of your living room with Alpine bouncing around his feet, his head now far below yours.

“You came outta nowhere, I’ll give ya that. I volunteered that day to get out of conditioning with Fury, and I left knowing my future wife.” Tears fell down your cheeks. He grabbed one of your hands in his—in the metal one. “And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thanked my lazy ass for doin’ that because you? You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You make me slow down and enjoy the little things, not spend all my days working. You gave me Alpine and this wonderful home and this amazing life.

“I’d been tryin’ to propose for months. And then you got hurt, and I thought I missed it; that you were gone and you didn’t know how much I love you. So I waited for this to be separate from that, but I can’t wait anymore.

“I love you, y/n. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me?”

If someone told you that every emotion from the past few months was now crashing down on you, you would have believed them. Joy and pain and love and sadness and so, so much happiness you would never be able to fully explain it. All of it. All at once. And Bucky just kept looking at you as if you hung his world.

The ring you knew cost way too much was held out in his hand as if you needed that; as if you would ever need anything other than the way he felt against your skin and his soothing words in your ear. He pushed it out a little further when your eyes flickered over the stone, and the ache in your chest grew.

There was so much that went into this man in front of you; so much good and so much love.

But you could ask anyone, and they’d tell you the same thing. Because Bucky was a good paramedic, but more than that, he was a good man; a good man that was yours.

“I love you. I love you so much, of course I will.”

If you enjoy my writing, consider checking out my ko-fi!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #modern!bucky #paramedic!bucky #bucky barnes au #marvel imagine

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys.

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand.

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat, pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Text

Temporary Fix

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!F1 driver!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion.

Warnings - smut, best friends -> lovers, slight exhibitionism

A/N - you have the second merc seat in this, so Valterri isn't here : (( not proof read

Sometimes, you hated yourself for following your passion. Driving a F1 car had been your dream ever since you could remember. The long process from karting to F1 had been a difficult one. When you were seven, you had a go kart track manager that you couldn't race there because you were a girl. That had cemented your will to be the best you could be, and you had done it.

You had made it into a Mercedes F1 seat after spending two years in Williams. It was safe to say that you were one of the best drivers, with killer instinct and an excellent eye for overtakes. The likes of Mika Hakkinen, Niki Lauda, Jacques Villeneuve and others had praised your skills, naming you one of the best talents in the current driver pool.

But the glory, the fame, the praise, sometimes you wished you could just evaporate into thin air. This was one of those times. Press conferences sucked, they really did. Reporters and journalists thought they were entitled to ask you the most sexist of questions, brushing them off by saying it was 'just a simple question'. Sometimes the drivers you were paired up with defended you, like Seb or Pierre or Lewis or even Kimi. Sometimes people didn't want to say anything, or they just laughed it off or answered for you.

This was not one of those times. Charles was supposed to be your partner for the press conference, but he wasn't feeling too great so you were on your own. It had started off fine, with the usual questions like 'how are you feeling about the race?' 'is it gonna be a good weekend for Mercedes?' and then it had gone to 'Do you think you being the only woman here, you should have a special suit?' or 'Are you sure it's a good idea for you to continue another year in F1?' that's what had irked you off.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you bit back the cutting response that had sprung to your lips, opting to simply look disapprovingly in silence, speaking more words in the quiet. Eventually, the conference was over, and you made your way out of the hall, deep in thought, so lost in your own world, you didn't notice when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into one of the nearby storage closets.

Your protest of "Hey!-" was cut off by a pair of lips pressing to yours, strong arms wrapping around your torso. "Heard you had a bad day with the press" Lewis mumbled against your lips, brow furrowing when you sighed and let your head drop onto his shoulder. "Yeah they're such fucking jerks" you replied, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry you have to deal with them every time" he continued, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Eh, I mean I'd rather not talk about it" you continued, letting your fingers trace a pattern on his chest.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the ringing of Lewis's phone, making you jump softly. "Bono" he answered, looking down at the screen. "Pick it up"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, we're waiting for the meeting? And is Y/N with you?" Bono's voice rang through the tiny closet, as you turned to look at Lewis with wide eyes. Shit, the debrief. "Yeah, I'm coming! Oh, and I'll see if I can find Y/N" he replied, making you suppress a smile. The moment he put the phone down, the both of you burst into giggles, before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips. "Well, we should go" he said, biting back a smile when you sighed, and cuddled into his shoulder. "Fine"

"But I'll make it up to you tonight baby" he continued, as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh yeah, you two had a friends with benefits situation going on too. No biggie

Except, well, you know you couldn't tell anyone, and you were definitely in love with each other, but I mean, of course it was better to be stupid and just simply refuse to acknowledge those feelings for each other.

♥︎☾☁︎

It had happened, when Lewis won his championship in Turkey. The team had thrown a (socially distant) party, and you had gotten just a little more drunk than you should have, but the champagne was flowing, tequila shots were being taken, beer was being chugged so you just jumped in and had a few more glasses of wine than you should have, and participated in a few rounds of shots.

Before you had known, a pair of hot lips had crashed onto yours, and your arms had tightly held onto a broad pair of shoulders, as the pair of you had stumbled up to your hotel room, crashing backwards onto the bed. Your drunken mind had been sober enough to recognise the 'Still I Rise' tattoo across his back when he tugged his shirt off.

At the same time, Lewis had recognised your face, heart speeding up ever so slightly because holy shit he was making out with you, and he really, really liked you. Before he knew it, your dress was down to your knees, and his shirt was a rumpled mess on the floor, your friendship gone far beyond repair, but only in the best way possible.

The next morning, you had let out a groan when the sunshine had flashed into your eyes, rolling over to find Lewis lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. Your heart rate had sped up, and you had shot up, scaring the living day light out of Lewis. He had awoken with a start, confusion present in his brown eyes, before realization had sunk in, and he had shot out of bed, wrapping one of the towels around his lower body.

But before the two of you could get awkward, he had strutted over to you, grabbing your face in his hands before pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel weak and light headed.

And then the both of you came to the conclusion that you two wanted something loose and flexible, something fun with no commitment.

But was it what you wanted?

♥︎☾☁︎

Sometimes debriefs could drag on. And on. And on. Eventually, the engineers left the room, leaving only Toto, Lewis, Bono, Angela, James and yourself in the room. Over the years, it had become like a family for you, and you loved them to absolute bits. The mood in the room had changed, as you all joked around for a while.

Watching from the other side of the room, Lewis couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto his face, when he saw you throw your head back with laughter at something Toto said, inhaling sharply when your neck came into clear view, a sudden urge to mark you up settling in on his body.

It was a thrill, to think of how many times you had come undone on his fingers and his tongue, how many nights you begged for him to fill you up with his cock. It was a thrill to think of all the times he had cried your name out in ecstasy while your tongue worked wonders around him. And yet, here you were, acting as if you two were just best friends, not two people who could barely keep their hands off of each other.

Just two nights ago, he had made you scream his name so loud, the person the next room, who just happened to be Daniel, had not let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, the Aussie hadn't realized it was you in his bed. Two nights ago, he had made you see stars, and after that you had rewarded him with the performance of his life to Nights Like This by Kehlani.

Snapping back to reality when a slight poke was applied to his shoulder, Lewis looked over to see Angela looking at him with a slight smirk on her face. He strongly suspected that the woman definitely had some sort of inkling about the both of you. How ? No idea. But she was a crazy smart woman, and was bound to have figured out that he was seeing someone.

It didn't help that atleast half the people on the grid had at some point teased him, telling him the both of you were made for each other. It was like the universe was pushing the both of you to be together, and he kept pushing it away

"So are we feeling confident going into this weekend?" Toto asked, grabbing his attention from the smirking blonde.

"Yup!" Your cheery answer elicited a smile from everyone in the room. "Yeah I think so" he said, watching as you flashed him a quick smile. "Okay, then, I think we're done for now. Any questions?" Bono asked, scanning a data sheet in front of him. "No, i'm good" you replied, reaching over to grab your phone. "Yeah me too" Lewis said, far too concerned with what was going to happen later that night to pay his full attention to Bono.

"Okay then. We'll see you tomorrow"

And with that they departed. Before Lewis could follow you, a hand grabbed his and he turned to see Angela, Toto and Bono looking at him expectantly. "So whose got you all distracted and flustered?" Angela asked, earning a smirk from Toto. "What? No one" he replied, slapping himself mentally for being all day dreamy during a meeting. "Oh really? I'm willing to bet you didn't hear anything I said during the meet except the last bit" Bono said, smiling when his driver got visibly flustered.

"So do we know her?" Angela continued, watching him closely for any giveaway reactions. "How would you know her if I don't like anyone?" Lewis said, hoping to God it didn't come across as awkward as it sounded.

"Never said you liked anyone. I'm saying you're in love with someone" Angela said, watching as her friend's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head profusely. "Okay are you on something? I'm just gonna head back to the hotel now" he murmured, confused, and somewhat taken aback by her bluntness.

Ignoring the looks on the others faces, he made his way out to the paddock, trying his hardest to make sense of his feelings. Was a casual relationship with you what he wanted? He wanted so much more than that.

Lewis knew, deep down in his heart, that he wanted to hold your hand in public, and kiss you right on the lips in front of everyone when you shared a podium. He wanted to be able to call you his, to not just spend the night with you, but to spend all his days with you. But you didn't want that.

Or so he thought.

♥︎☾☁︎

Back at the hotel, Lewis busied himself with working out, trying to push all his frustrations out via the workout. He knew that you were going to turn up in the night, and he looked so damn forward to seeing you each night, but god, he hated it when you left in the morning. Every morning when your warm body slipped out from under the sheet, his arms would tighten for a moment, before your giggle would bring him back to reality and he'd hastily draw back, smiling at you. His favourite moment was when he came to your hotel room in Spain. In the morning, he had woken up before you, and before leaving, he had pressed a little kiss to your forehead. The most gorgeous smile had curled onto your lips, and his heart had melted into a little puddle when you rested your cheek on his hand

And then in Monaco, when he had taken you to his apartment, you had woken up before him, and he had woken up to the sight of you bringing a tray of pancakes and fruits, followed by a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was those moments he cherished, but it was those same moments that confused him.

His train of thought was broken when a knock echoed in the room, as he walked over to the door, opening it to find : you

"Hey" you greeted him, walking in and shedding your jacket. "Hey" he replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of his body. "Wow um, is this a bad time?" You asked, eyes trailing down his abs, watching as his body glistened in the fading sun light. "No its fine, I just finished my workout. You hungry?" He continued, biting back a smirk when he saw your eyes roaming his body.

"W-what? Yeah, i, um, suppose - yeah" you murmured, mind already far down the gutter.

"For food darling, not for sex" he said, making you blush and let out a small gasp. "Lewis!" You chided, shoving him softly. "You know you were thinking it" he mumbled, pushing you up against the wall. "Yeah I was" you whispered back, yanking him forward by his shoulders, slamming your lips against his.

Lifting you up from the waist, he pressed his body further into yours, one of his hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing harshly, earning a moan from your lips. Taking the opportunity, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you let your core grind against him.

Leading you towards the bed, he stopped in confusion when you stopped him, maneuvering him towards the balcony. "Want you to fuck me against the window or in the balcony" you gasped out, earning a moan from him.

"Right where anyone could see us, hmm? Didn't know you were into that baby" he growled, grabbing your earlobe in between his teeth, earning an airy gasp from you, as the wetness threatened to seep down your legs.

"Mmhmm" was all you could muster, your mind so clouded with desperation you couldn't form a single coherent thought. The only thing you were aware of was that only Lewis could make you feel the pleasure you wanted to feel, only he would take you to that little piece of heaven, only he would hold your hand and fuck you into oblivion, and he would still be there to clean you down with a sponge softly.

"If you insist"

Grabbing you roughly, he slammed your body against the massive hotel room window, ripping the mercedes team shirt you were wearing off of your quivering form, letting it drop to the floor, before he hooked his fingers into the material of your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs

With a soft groan, you pulled his nike shorts down his legs, moaning when his cock came into view, the throbbing in between your legs making you whimper, arousal and need growing tenfold in your tummy.

"Please" you whispered, meeting his eyes, so he could see the pure desperation in your eyes. "Please what?" He said, a certain roughness you hadn't heard before creeping into his voice

"Please fuck me" you moaned, gasping when he brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. "Oh trust me doll, i will. But first, i want to have you dripping wet and ready for me. I want to make you cum on my fingers, so you're wet and ready for my cock. Do you want my fingers princess?" he continued, feeling his arousal grow when you whimpered and whined.

"Words baby girl. Or I'll just leave you here with your pathetic fingers. I bet you can't even reach all those spots inside you that make you scream, when your tiny little fingers try to please yourself. I bet you just feel like sinking into yourself, but the thought of my fingers keeps you awake. Do you do that, sweet girl? Do you pretend your fingers are mine when you're touching yourself, hmm?'

When you didn't answer, he delivered a smack to your ass, groaning when you moaned at the pleasurable sting. "Yes" you whispered abashed.

"Don't be shy baby. Its okay. I know you feel so good when I love on you. I can see it when you scream my name" and with that, his pointer finger began circling your clit, rubbing circles around it before shifting so he was rubbing the sensitive bud directly.

Your moans of ecstasy were music to his ear, a smile gracing his features, as he let his middle finger slip into you, thrusting it in and out of you. Your soft cry of "fuck" cracked when he shoved his pointer into you as well, scissoring them in and out of you

"Oh fucking hell Lew-" "Shh my darling, i didn't say you could talk, did I?" He said, fingers working at an indescribably quick pace, as the knot in your tummy tightened and threatened to loosen. "I'm gonna-" "go ahead baby" he murmured, using his pointer and thumb to pinch your clit roughly, as you came around his fingers with a scream

"Good girl. You wanna put that pretty little mouth to use somewhere else?" he asked, watching as you dropped to your knees eagerly, (just like I would do irl) reaching up to rest your hands on his hips.

"Someone's eager to suck my cock hmm? Be a good girl for me, and don't waste time" he ordered, a shudder running down his body when your nails traced the veins on his cock, and then as they reached downwards, your thumb circling his tip, collecting his pre cum on your finger. Then you shoved your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, before sucking softly on your digit, rolling your eyes back. You were snapped back to reality when Lewis roughly yanked your head up, pure arousal clouding his pupils

"You better use your mouth right now, or i swear i will leave you here alone to pleasure yourself" he threatened, moaning when you took his tip into your mouth at once, sucking softly before swirling your tongue upwards.

The feel of your tongue on him made him buck his hips into your mouth, the unexpected movement pushed him quite far back in your mouth, looking up at him, you hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, the sounds he was making above you fuelling you. You took him as far back as you could without gagging, as a strangled moan of "Fuck Y/N!"left his lips. He grabbed your hair, tugging upwards, the tingling on your scalp sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Fuck baby, you're gonna have to stop now, I really want to fuck you now" he growled out, pulling you up before pushing you towards to balcony railing

Lining up with your entrance, he watched as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want this Y/N?" he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign that he was being too rough, or that you didn't want what was coming next

"Turning your head around to face him, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "I've never been more sure baby" was your affirming reply.

Kissing you back with the same fervour, he slowly pushed into you from behind, the both of you groaning in sync when your walls enveloped him. "fuck you feel so good darling. So fucking tight" lewis moaned, making you moan as well as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Reaching around you, Lewis rubbed your clit while he continued to snap his hips against yours, making your breasts bounce against your chest, your hands gripping the balcony railing for dear life. Thank god it was dark.

He continued to rub and pinch you clit, before swiping his fingers through your wet folds. Then he shoved his fingers into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them

"Be an angel and suck on my fingers for me" he growled, moaning when your mouth eagerly closed around his fingers, sucking them with fervour.

Snapping his hips into you desperately, his hands encircled your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, swishing his fingers around in your mouth. "Fuck baby thats it, i'm gonna cum" he groaned, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, moaning when you clenched down on him again

"Oh fucking hell-" with a moan, he came into you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to rub your clit again, sighing with satisfaction when you came around him with a scream of "Lewis!"

Panting, he dragged you back to the bed, both of you collapsing into the covers.

Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you curled up into his chest, letting your head droop onto his shoulder, as his fingers traced his initials onto your hip.

"Well princess, we seem to have a problem here" he said, as you snapped your head up to look at him in confusion.

"I think i'm in love with you"

♡☾☁︎

A/N - part 2? Also feel free to drop a comment, i'd really appreciate it 🤍 thank you so much for reading 🤍

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 imagines #f1 drivers smut #f1 drivers imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 x reader #smut #imthebadguyyyfics

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