#sundays are for bonding in the fandom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imthebadguyyy · 8 months

Text

Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

taglist -

everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion

to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷

masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #Charles Leclerc imagines #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #cl #cl16

438 notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months

Text

The Day the Music Died

I’m sorry that this is gonna be so angsty, but I used to be in the marvel fandom where the reader died all the time and I love this trend on tiktok so

Summary: The Grid has to say goodbye to their favorite girl

2023 F1 Grid x young!fem!reader

(For the sake of this story, reader is Aston Martin driver alongside Fernando, and Lance is the reserved driver, she can also be American if you want to really fit the song)

It was your favorite kind of race, a few hours away from midnight, and it was pouring rain, meaning the race was going to be more unpredictable and chaotic than usual.

You’ve always loved the rain and the extra risk factor it bought to Formula 1, so when your engineer told you the conditions were going to stay the same for the race, a bright smile took over your face, brighter than your usual one.

Your smile was one of your trademarks on the grid, often being compared to Daniel Ricciardo on the matter. Despite the age gap, you and the Australian were quite close and were like walking rays of sunshine when the two of you were together.

You were closest with the other young drivers the most though, Lando, George, Zhou, Yuki, and your teammate Lance being your closest companions.

You describe the grid as being like in a family, your teammate Fernando was like your grid dad, always looking out for you and defending you when the media felt a little extra vicious. The older men on the grid like uncles, looking out for you but letting you have your fun.

Drivers like Carlos, Charles, Pierre, Max, Esteban, and Alex were like cousins, you messed around with each other but always looking out for the other. Reporters called you “the glue” saying that your youthful spirit had helped bond the drivers as more than just competition.

So it made sense that a lot of drivers were worried when your car went into the barriers during the race.

Sunday started off fine, you had a goodnight sleep, hung out with your PR officer for breakfast and walked into the paddock with a smile on your face.

You greeted other drivers and the co-workers you knew as you worked your way to your garage and into your drivers room, changed into your drivers suit and reviewed your strategy with a few engineers before you had to head into the garage to get into your car.

“Radio check Y/n, radio check” Your engineer came over the radio. “Loud and clear” You replied, the adrenaline and excitement already kicking in as you were given the go-ahead to head onto the track for the formation lap. The mist from the cars around you and your soaked visor limited your vision, but you managed to find your way to your spot on the track. You were starting P5 today and were already anxious to start the race.

The flag was waved, the five red lights came on and off before all 20 cars were accelerating down the track, trying to gain positions early. You held on to P5 throughout the race, trying to defend against Carlos Sainz’ Ferrari behind you and trying to overtake Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari in front of you.

It was Lap 25 when you attempted another overtake on Leclerc, speeding down the straight and trying to gain on him before the corner. Right as you were beginning your turn into the corner, your tires locked up and you headed into the barriers, going too fast for your brakes to properly stop the car.

You felt the impact on the right side of your abdomen first, then your head, then your legs. It was like being compressed into a small box then slammed against a cement wall.

What happened? Why aren’t I on the track? Your vision went dizzy as you tried to remember what happened. I must have locked up, but why does my side hurt so bad?

“Oh no! Big crash on Turn 7, I think that was Y/n L/n’s Aston Martin! That looked bad, might be a red flag if L/n doesn’t show responsiveness” Martin Brundle spoke worriedly, crashes during stormy races were never good.

Just focus on getting out of the car, you told yourself. You wrapped your arms around the halo to try and lift yourself up but the dizziness in your head combined with the immediate pain in your right side made you sit back down. I probably hurt my ribs, you thought. It’s fine, I’ll just wait for the medics.

Brundle was right, the yellow flag was waved first and the cars slowed down, but it soon became clear that the race wasn’t going to continue for a bit. After a few minutes of waiting for you, a red flag was waved and the medical team was sent out.

Black spots danced in your vision as you tried to look around for the marshals. You expected your vision to clear up after a second, but it never did. Your world just became fuzzier and darker.

You started hearing sirens of an ambulance approaching, but your arms felt too heavy to raise in a sign of acknowledgement.

“The safety car and marshals arrive at the scene, still no movement from L/n” Martin’s voice becomes somber but he stays hopeful, of course you were fine, you never get hurt, you’d get out in a moment and everything would be fine.

You couldn’t keep yourself awake for much longer. It’s okay, at least I’m okay, right? Right? You asked yourself that question, expecting to wake up in a couple minutes. You weren’t scared of going unconscious, you’d be okay. But your eyes closed for the last time before you could find an answer and it was over before you even realized it’d begun.

The drivers were still in their cars, wondering what had happened. They knew you had crashed, but they knew you were strong, you’ll walk out of your car and dramatically insist Daniel give you a piggy back ride when you saw him. “You didn’t even hurt your legs!” He’d complain and you’d just shrug and tell him to let you climb on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the race might not continue for a bit, at least until Y/n L/n is safe and taken off the track” Martin tries to keep the viewers updated as curtains are placed around your car to keep the cameras away from you.

Everyone is getting antsy at this point, your engineer got no radio from you and there is no word from the medics yet. The drivers are calling in every other minute, anxious to hear from you. “Is she okay?” Fernando calls in. “Do we know if Y/n’s alright?” Carlos asks, having seen the crash up close. Daniel even walks into your garage, wanting to see for himself if there was any news on your crash.

As a Formula 1 Medic, Rowan should be prepared to handle any type of crash a driver was in, ranging from a bruise on their stomach to a broken leg, she was trained to handle it. But Rowan had never seen a dying person before, so her hesitation to help her coworker with lifting L/n out of her car was understandable.

Two other medics immediately crowd the girl. Rowan searching for a pulse, one taking off the teen’s helmet, and the third wrestling with the drivers suit, trying to assess the damage that could by covered by the clothing.

“Rowan, have you found a pulse?” One of the other medics who’s rummaging ambulance for supplies asks. Rowan doesn’t want to answer. She doesn’t want to face this. She wants to check her neck, her heart, and her wrist again even though she already did three times. Rowan doesn’t want to be one to tell everyone that Y/n L/n is dead, but Rowan knows better than that, so she removes her hands from the drivers body, hangs her head low, and closes her eyes as if that would stop her tears from falling.

“No pulse. I’ve checked everywhere three times. She’s gone.” The medic’s voice cracks as she says the last sentence, and a silence overcomes the team of safety marshals.

Nobody on the team had ever encountered a death before, so the medical staff was stuck in a mournful silence, letting the rain wash away the tears that threatened to drop from their cheeks.

The head of the team snaps out of it first. “Someone has to radio the Aston Martin garage and tell them” Everyone seems to step away, wanting to avoid being the one to announce the death. There was nothing to worry about though, as Rowan spoke up. “I’ll do it. I’ll make call” No one disagrees, and Rowan’s glad because she felt partly responsible, she should’ve gotten to Y/n quicker, helped her out of the car, told everyone to move quicker.

Rowan’s voice comes over the radio, shaky and somber. “Y/n L/n is dead. She has no pulse.” She pauses as her throat closes up. “We’ll take her to the medical center-“ That’s all the woman can manage before she bursts into tears and started shaking with sobs. Another medics pulls her closer to them, as they give a moment of silence for the driver.

The young medic is only a few years older than the girl who just died, questions herself, “What if I got there faster?” It lingers in her mind.

Gasps. Tears. Hands cover faces and people are pulled into hugs. Dead? Daniel thinks, no, she isn’t dead, Y/n- she can’t- she’s not dead. Before he realizes, he’s saying the words out loud and pressing the radio button before Otmar can stop him. “I- what do you mean she’s dead? She can’t be dead- she can’t be” The Australian has tears running down his face and he’s pulled away by one of the Aston Martin engineers.

Nobody knows what has happened except those in the Aston Martin garage, and nobody will know until 7:00am the next morning, when Y/n L/n’s death is announced by Aston Martin.

It seems like the entire world came together to offer their support. Millions of messages are sent to Y/n’s family and her friends and bouquets of flowers are sent to Y/n’s P.O. Box.

The funeral is held on Friday, family, friends, drivers, and co-workers show up to Y/n’s home town to mourn their beloved driver.

A moment of silence is held at the race three weeks later, nearly every driver cries and everyone that has a helmet has a sticker with your initials on it. Fernando wins for you and points at the sky as he sobs for his teammate that was like his daughter.

The paddock no longer feels the same. There was no longer a green suit to watch as she bounced around, talking to anyone and everyone, keeping a smile on her face through it all. There is something so clearly missing in the Aston Martin videos, no matter how much time passes. Fans rewatch her live streams and interviews because it’s all the comfort they have. You used to call the grid dinner outings “family dinner” but families smile and laugh together, and it takes a while before the grid can do that again.

Y/n L/n goes down in the Formula 1 Hall of Fame as the best female driver that has ever lived, but the whole world wishes she was there to see her induction herself.

The day the music died

So bye-bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee

But the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whisky and rye

Singing, “This’ll be the day I die”

This will be the day that I die

if you’re confused on how y/n dies, I wrote it as her internal organs got crushes as she crashed straight into the barrier, i know it doesn’t really make sense and it took me me awhile to make this edit but I kinda forgot about it

also, I want to write more f1 fics after this, so if you have any suggestions on what team the reader should be on and what driver the reader should be with lmk 🫶

#formula 1 #reader insert #f1 2023 #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 drivers #driver reader #female driver reader #female f1 driver

939 notes · View notes

auras-moonstone · 1 month

Text

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ don’t blame me for what you made me do

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.6K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!carpenter!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n is finally able to get revenge on her sisters when the bailey family reaches out to her to ask her to join the plan.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: implied character death. murder. family issues. bonding over shared issues. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: on sunday it was scream 6’s anniversary and it made me miss that era sm😫 the fandom is so dead, especially the ethan/jack one.

y/n had always felt like an outsider in her own family. her mom’s favorites had always been sam and tara. and y/n went under her radar, the curse of the middle child, they say. and then there were her sisters, who she was also not very close with. despite having only one year difference with tara, the youngest sibling had a better relationship with sam, so y/n was also left alone in the sibling department. she only had her dad, who used to be her entire world until he packed his bags and left her behind. and it was all because of sam carpenter.

revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. and after years of waiting, the opportunity came to y/n. it actually knocked on the door of her new apartment in new york city.

“um, hello? can i help you?” the girl asked confused, seeing three strangers standing before her. one was a man around his forties, then there was a tall boy with curly hair and a red-haired girl with green eyes.

“hi, y/n carpenter, right?” the man said.

“yeah… do i know you?” y/n asked, a tad creeped out.

“no, but you knew my son, richie.”

richie, the man who used to date sam and then try to kill her. the man who tied y/n up and hid her in a closet, telling her she was going to be okay. murdering her was never in richie’s plan, and it still confused the hell out of her.

y/n’s eyes widened. “yes. i’m really sorry about what happened.”

“thank you.” the man gave her a small smile. “my name is wayne bailey, these are my children, quinn and ethan.” his two kids waved at her and she smiled in response. “do you think we could talk for a few minutes? i have something to say that might interest you.”

she reluctantly let them in, and wayne started telling her about what richie told them. how he noticed the tension between her and her sisters, how he could see the resentment in her eyes everytime she looked at sam, how sometimes they became murderous too.

“i don’t know what to tell you… what’s this all about? why are you here?”

“you see, y/n, your sister murdered my son. the light of my life, and i want her to pay. and by what richie told me, i think that’s what you want too.”

that captured her interest. “sam is the reason my dad—the only person i was close with in that damn family—left. so, whatever you have planned, count me in.”

“are you okay?” y/n asked ethan, who looked very deep in thought as they entered the dorms building. they had just came from a meeting at wayne’s house, and ethan had been dead silent the whole way back home.

“i just… aren’t you scared? that things won’t work out and we might end like every other ghostface?” ethan was very expressive when he talked, he talked with his whole body, especially his hands. the maniac hand movement showed y/n that he was very anxious about the whole thing.

during the time she had spent with the baileys, she had reached a conclusion—wayne and quinn were all for revenge, it was clear they were furious with sam. and ethan, although he truly loved his brother and hated sam for what she did, was in on the plan for the mere purpose of pleasing his dad.

richie had been the favorite, and ethan wanted so bad for his father to see him like he once saw his brother that he was willing to sacrifice his life for it. y/n understood that feeling of wanting to belong more than anyone else, which was why she had connected with ethan in a way she never thought would be possible.

they became each other’s comfort, each other’s safe place when things got overwhelming. it really sucked to fake being wary of him, to act like she was trying to keep her distance because—like the rest of the group—she didn’t trust the new members, when it reality she just wanted to wrap her arms around his frame.

“i won’t let anything happen to you. even if i have to take a knife to the heart to make sure you get out of this alive, i’ll do it. i can promise you that.”

ethan shook his head. “but that’s exactly what i’m worried about. something happening to you. the thought of getting out of this without you… fuck, that can’t happen, y/n.”

y/n had seen ethan being vulnerable, he let himself be like that around her, but this was the first time she had seen him cry. it was a sight she never wanted to see again.

she carefully brush his tears away. “okay, then we’ll have each other’s back, okay? please don’t cry, you’re killing me.”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really scared.” he hid his face on the crook of her neck and took deep breaths to stop the tears.

“don’t be sorry. never apologise for feeling, especially to me. it just makes me sad to see your pretty eyes with tears, but i get what you say.”

“i don’t want to go back to the group.” he pouted.

y/n chuckled then checked her smartwatch. “it’s late. chad might wonder where you are.”

ethan groaned. “i don’t care. i’ll tell him i was at study group. can i stay here for a bit?”

“you’re a little obsessed with my presence, landry.�� she joked.

“and what if i am?” he said before letting out a nervous laugh.

y/n took him in. his strong arm was settled on the back of the couch, right next to her head. his temple was resting on his closed hand and he was staring intently at her with those killer deep brown eyes. he was so beautiful and she was so weak when it came to him. and fuck if his full lips didn’t look so inviting.

her index finger lifted and it was soon tracing the shape of his lips. they felt as soft as his cute curls. “then we’d be on the same page. because i’m a little obsessed with you.”

ethan’s arm left the back of the couch to end up around the back of y/n’s neck, pulling her close. her shaky hand found its way to his hard chest, right where she could feel the thunderous beats of his heart, which only became more erratic when their lips finally met.

“mmmh, wanted it so bad.” he said between kisses. “we’re not going back to being just friends right? because i can’t handle that.”

“are you out of your mind? no way. you’re mine and i get to kiss you whenever i want. well, whenever i can.”

“yours. fuck, that sounds so good.” he hummed contently. “it’s going to be so hard to hold back from you.”

“but then, when we finally get to release the tension, it’s going to be so good, don’t you think?” she smirked.

“you drive me insane.”

“right back at you, pretty boy. i don’t think you realize how powerful those puppy eyes of yours are.”

ethan’s blood rushed to his cheeks and y/n giggled like a schoolgirl. her chest felt like busting. she was finally happy. truly. the 6 foot two brunet boy lying beneath her was her one source of happiness, and she was not going to let anything take him away from her.

y/n stood in her ghostface costume in front of her sisters. she was practically bouncing on her feet, excited to reveal herself and see the look on the girls’ faces. ethan, who had already shown his face, had the biggest smile. y/n was so adorable he had to close his hands in a fist to fight the temptation of bringing her into his arms.

“ready for the last surprise?.” wayne asked.

“come on, babe.” ethan squeezed her waist and y/n took the mask off. her sisters stepped back in shock, faces tinted with hurt.

“how could you?” tara spat as tears fell from her eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes. “oh, cry me a river.”

“why would you do this? is this all because of him?” sam pointed her head at ethan. “what? you fell in love and he brainwashed you into becoming a killer?”

“do you think i’m stupid? of course not.” she scoffed. “i mean, i did fall in love with him, but that’s besides the point. they came to my door a few days after we moved.” and she told them how she came to work with the baileys. “i waited years, and now… i can finally make you two pay for how shitty you’d always made me feel.”

“what are you talking about? we’re your sisters, y/n.”

y/n glared at tara. “you have some fucking nerve. you’ve always made me feel neglected, until sam left town. we started to bond, but as soon as she was back… you forgot about me. how can you even say you’re my sister?” she yelled in anger. ethan took her hand in comfort. “and you?” she looked at sam. “you’re the reason my dad left, and i swear to god i’m going to show you exactly how badly that hurt.”

“you crazy bitch. you’re insane.” tara screamed at her.

ethan slashed her stomach in fury. “watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girlfriend!”

“let’s just get over with this. y/n deserves a break.” quinn said.

the carpenters sure put up a fight, y/n was the one who got most of the wounds, but they had managed to succeed. wayne and quinn left to take care of gale and mindy while ethan stay behind taking care of his girlfriend.

“are you feeling alright?”

“don’t worry, eth. they’re bad, but not that bad. i’ll for sure live.” she reassured him. “we made it. i told you we would.”

“you did.” he laughed, and then hugged her tightly. “you scared me so much, though. i really thought i’d lost you when i saw you lying on the ground.”

“i could never leave you.” she brushed her nose against his and whispered against his lips, “i love you. thanks for walking into my life.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fluff #scream fanfic #scream iv #scream 6 #ghostface #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n

228 notes · View notes

bad268 · 3 months

Note

Hi I love your work can you write about justin and a reporter ask a question about you( your relationship is unknown) and he’s loses his temper a lil but Is also trying not to disclose anything.

Private, But Not Secret (Justin Herbert X Reporter! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/NFL

Requested: Clearly (I love him so much)

Warnings: mentions of when Justin broke his leg in college

Pronouns: Third person (They/them)

W.C. 1031

Summary: A reporter takes a question too far, so Justin takes evasive action.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It all started when they met in college, the University of Oregon. Y/n, a sports journalism major, and Justin, a science major on the football team. A match made in heaven, one would say. Their classes did not overlap a lot, but Y/n was assigned to cover the football team. It was only natural for the two to spark something.

They began hanging out outside of the games and practices during the summer of their junior year and became official at the end of the football season. The two decided to keep it between themselves because the last thing they needed was people making comments about the quarterback and a journalist being together.

Fast forward a few years, Justin is doing well with the LA Chargers and Y/n has established themself with CBS. Y/n was the lead journalist when it came to the LA Chargers, and they were always reporting on Sundays. Their relationship remained strong, and no one other than their respective families and closest friends knew of the two.

Even though they were on the down low, everyone could see that Justin had a soft spot for Y/n in conferences. No matter the outcome of the game, Justin would smile and give very detailed responses. Heck, he would even banter back and forth with them!

One game in particular, Y/n could not attend. Y/n was visiting family, so they asked one of their newer reporters to fill their space. The game was pretty good for the LA Chargers and Justin with him throwing three touchdowns and running one in himself. Despite being at their parents’ house, Y/n turned on the post-game conference just as Justin came on the stage. All of the journalists were congratulating Justin and asking game-related questions until it got to one reporter.

“Perla with CBS,” she started, Y/n immediately recognized the voice as their coworker who filled in for them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my colleague, Y/n, is not here today.”

“No, I noticed,” Justin chuckled. “They’re at every game and every press conference, so it’s nice to see them taking a break.”

“Many people, myself included, have noticed that you two seem to have a stronger bond than just reporter and player,” Perla scoffed. Immediately, Y/n could sense where the question was going, and so could Justin. “Is there anything happening behind the scenes between you two?”

“That has nothing to do with the game, and frankly, it’s none of your business,” Justin answered monotonously.

“I mean, it’s obvious to everyone that Y/n doesn’t have the proper experience to have this job, so it’s clear that they’re doing some ‘behind the scenes’ favors,” Perla continued, completely disregarding Justin’s first answer and obvious distaste for the question.

“First off, don’t ever talk down on someone like Y/n who is higher up than you,” Justin started off, glaring at Perla through the crowd. “Second, if we were in a relationship, how would I have any say in their job? I have no personal connection to CBS, and I just don’t have that power. Lastly, if you’re going to keep talking shit, you can leave, and we’ll make sure that CBS knows how you aren’t actually working within your role. I don’t think your boss would appreciate that his sports reporter is poking her nose around in topics that don’t deal with sports, right?”

“Are you threatening me?” Perla gasped, surrounding reporters were eating it up. Justin was known for being quiet and reserved, so seeing him lash back was a one in a million shot.

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Justin replied. “Slander against Y/n will not be tolerated, especially when I know that they specifically chose you for this gig because they believed in you.”

After the conference, Justin called Y/n on his way home.

“Thank you for standing up for me, J,” Y/n greeted almost immediately after answering the phone. “People need to learn to stay in their own lane.”

“I’ll always defend you,” Justin laughed. “We do need to talk to your boss about that, though. That was unacceptable.”

“I really thought Perla was just misunderstood,” Y/n replied sadly. “Turns out she’s just out for drama.”

“If people are going to keep asking about it,” Justin started, “how would you feel about us announcing us? We could be private but not secret, and I’ll make sure to add that we’ve been together since junior year.”

“If I get to help choose the pictures and the caption, I think it would be best,” Y/n admitted. “Plus, you kind of already outed us during the conference when you said ‘we’ will make sure that CBS knows.”

“For fucks sake,” Justin chuckled in disbelief. “I tried so hard to keep it hidden.”

“Well, now we don’t need to,” Y/n comforted. “Remember, private but not secret from now on.”

The next game day came faster than either were prepared for. Both shared two pictures to their Instagrams with the caption, “Five years and counting.” One of them was taken during the off-season, and the other was of the two sitting on the couch with Justin’s broken leg and Y/n dressed up as a nurse from junior year. The posts gained a lot of traction, but it was now in the open. Neither wanted to change that.

After the game and another win for the LA Chargers, there was, of course, another conference. This time, Y/n was back in their place.

“Y/n with CBS,” they smiled as Justin looked their way. “First off, congratulations on announcing your relationship. You two look very happy together.”

“Thanks,” Justin laughed at the brief teasing. "We've been through a lot together. Couldn't see myself without them, honestly."

“That's cute, but I would rather talk about that last play though,” Y/n quickly got on topic. “A 69-yard throw to Keenan Allen for the game-winning touchdown. With this win, you helped secure your place at the top of your division and a place in the playoff. Tell me, does your arm hurt with these long throws?”

~~~~~

#justin herbert x reader #justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fanfic #la chargers #los angeles chargers #nfl #national football league #nfl football #nfl imagine #nfl fan fic #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

154 notes · View notes

ally-holmes · 11 months

Text

Volunteer | Aaron Hotchner x Reader

My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Reader: no use of YN, reader is a doctor, no precise description of gender or physique of reader.

Summary: You were a volunteer for the soccer team Aaron Hotchner coaches. When you decide to bite the bullet and ask the man out, he rejects you in what you felt was a humiliating manner. As you're trying to get used to your new life without seeing Hotch every week, you get called to help with a hostage situation as they need a doctor on site. The BAU is there.

NOTE: The summary is awful but I had no idea what to say without making spoilers.

Content Warning: hurt/comfort, hostage situation, inaccurate medical procedures, inaccurate baby delivery situation, explicit labor, medical complications, and lots of blood. Again, highly inaccurate, don't come at me with your medical degrees, I'm a historian, not a doctor.

Words: 6695

Rating: Explicit (Look CW)

Volunteer | Oneshot

Soccer had always been an easy sport to introduce to children in the US, that's why Haley Hotchner played with her son at any given time since he was three. Spending his fourth birthday in hiding was tough for them and Aaron could see that. When Jack kept watching the same tape repeatedly, Aaron decided to sign his son into a soccer team.

Belonging to a team gave Jack another social group away from school and an understanding of teamwork and camaraderie. It was also the perfect excuse for Aaron to keep his phone away and focus solely on his son on the weekends. Naming it an excuse might seem inappropriate, but for Aaron, having a semi-structured schedule to drive his free time helped him to push the work aside, avoiding hyper-focusing on the paperwork he took from the bureau. His implication with the team drove the other parents to ask him to coach the team, a proposition that he accepted with the assistance of his best friend, David Rossi.

Things were fine overall.

Then you showed up one weekend with Jessica who introduced you as the volunteer who was going to take care of the children's health. Aaron did his best to control his microexpressions but the sparkling look Jessica gave him behind your back spoke volumes to him.

When Jessica Brooks told you about the infant soccer league you looked at her with an arched eyebrow. You've finally graduated from med school and work as a doctor in the ER of a hospital. After three years there, it felt like your own home and the staff you worked with were your family. Jessica had become a new addition to the hospital's cafeteria, and she was so approachable and extroverted that it was easy for her to bond with the other members of the personnel.

Of course, you knew about the tragedy that hit her family when her sister was murdered leaving a child behind, and you've met Jack on several occasions. Yet, you were unable to pin down the moment, the insinuation, or the interaction that made Jessica corner you at the end of your shift to ask you if you'd be interested in volunteering your medical abilities for her nephew's soccer team.

"It's mostly scratches or sprained ankles at its worse," she insisted. "A little bird had told me you ought to socialize away from the hospital. It will be great for you!"

"Jessica…"

"Listen, Jack's dad has accepted to be the team's coach, and although I know that it has been a ruse of the soccer moms to ogle him every Sunday morning, he's going to take it seriously. Not like, he's going to be focused on winning every single match. They don't even keep scores for that age group. What I mean is that Aaron is going to concentrate on making it fun for the children, but also safe, and his medical knowledge is limited."

"You just said it's mostly scratches and sprained ankles. You don't need a doctor for that."

"Come on!! It'll be fun!!"

"Are you trying to set me up with him or something?"

Jessica scoffed, "He's way too old for you. I highly doubt you find him anything else than stern and intimidating. However, there are younger single parents. All I'm saying is that you should spend time with people away from these walls."

You cave in, as might be expected.

Aaron Hotcher was stern and pretty much intimidating, but he was also an absolutely cute little thing with the kids, sexy, and interesting. His assistant, David Rossi, was approachable and found a way to involve you in his conversations with Hotchner.

You were eager to please as a volunteer. You were very nice to the children, who seemed to attach to you almost immediately, and the parents soon rooted for you when they knew you were a medical doctor. Your awkward smile when one of the parents told you about the weird rash that had appeared on his rear made Aaron giggle inside.

From the point of view of a profiler, he could tell you had terrible social skills that you tried very hard to overcome and improve. You were more comfortable with children than with adults, maybe because you've been hurt in the past, you may have some trust issues and second guess yourself often in social situations but never in your work. He was unable to see the classic narcissism noticeable in surgeons, instead, you had a compulsive professionalism while being warm and caring. Aaron also saw some nerdiness and geekiness in you that made his heart melt without permission.

"To think that I brushed her off when she asked me if I was trying to set her up…" Jessica's voice pulled him out of his analysis.

"Is this a setup?"

"God, no. Not an intentional one, at least. I was not expecting you two to check each other out like that."

"I did not check her out."

"Aaron, it's me. I may not be a profiler, but I know your looks. You like her already and I know that as you get to know her better, you're going to like her more and more."

"It won't happen."

"Tell yourself that."

And he did. He told himself that along with other things but when he caught your eyes lingering on him when you thought he wasn't looking he felt a boost of self-esteem. Talking to you was a treat he rarely indulged himself with. The worst thing he thought he could do was to lead you on to think he felt the same because then he would lose the restraint that prevented him from falling in love again. It was too soon. You were too young. The 'what if' list got longer and longer as months passed.

That's how, after a few months you ended up crushing hard on that man that Jessica assured you was too old for you. Oh, boy, you didn't care. After the practices and matches, you stayed with Hotch to clear the place of the things you'd used with Jack's playful help, and that's what drew you closer. You found his deadpan jokes hilarious. You lived for his small smirks or full-on laughs, the tiny movements his eyebrows made when he found something amusing, the light in his dark eyes when he looked at his son laughing about what you'd said or done. Being of assistance was your main goal for the weekends and your supervisor in the ER was more than glad to fix your schedule so you could have those moments for the soccer team.

At some point, you inevitably thought of yourself as a needy puppy when you found yourself being always the first to comply with any of Hotch's requests. Due to the lack of major injuries (or injuries in any way or form), you didn't have much to do with the team, therefore you ran errands like buying snacks, or bringing gallons of water… To be honest you would've driven all the way to San Francisco if Hotch and Dave had asked you to. It was embarrassing.

Now that you were facing a pissed-off Aaron Hotchner, you were regretting accepting Jessica's push six months ago.

Mulling over your feelings for the past few weeks, you've decided to approach him and ask him out on a date. Just some coffee, really, nothing fancy. He frowned; his eyes ran through you seeing things you were fighting to hide. Little did you know that Aaron felt at the edge of an abyss.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Aaron tersely told you, and when your eyes wandered between his looking for a longer explanation, his panic clouded his mind, and he must admit was gratuitously rude to you. "With my work consisting in profiling people, do you actually believe that your behavior had been unnoticed? I've tried to put some distance between us to avoid confusing you and apparently, it hadn't worked. I don't intend to be mean, but if your sole motivation to volunteer here is to spend time with me or look at me, I think it'll be better for all of us if you stopped coming here. We don't need a doctor, anyway. The most you've done has been cleaning Travis' wound when he fell on top of a tiny rock and his hand started bleeding.

"I am sure that you are great in your work," he slowly assured you, "but we don't need your skills here. I'm doing this to spend quality time with my son, and I cannot enjoy it if my attention is on your stalking behavior."

"Stalking?" You whispered confused.

"It's not the appropriate word. I'm sorry. Just… This is a safe space for the kids to have fun, and we, parents, are here because of that. You have no connection with any of them, not the children and not the adults."

You press your lips to avoid pouting. The last thing you wanted was to break in front of him after that awful humiliation. Handing him the cones you'd collected, you had nothing else to do there, and knowing just how unwanted your presence was prevented you from saying goodbye to Rossi and Jack as you usually did.

Aaron's grip on the cones hurt his hands as he followed you with his eyes, a storm breaking in his chest. When instead of going towards Dave and Jack you kept walking out of the field, the old profiler looked at him across the field with concerned eyes. He bowed his head in shame.

Hiding from Jessica at work was easy for you, at least for the first few days after the humiliation, but on Wednesday, you decided to bite the bullet and face her. After sharing some pleasantries, you smiled sadly at her before telling her what you actually wanted to say.

"I don't know if Hotch has told you, but I asked him out for a coffee. He rejected me, of course," you laughed self-depreciatingly. "Um… I'm going to quit volunteering on the soccer team. Could you make sure he understands it is because I cannot face him after how he did it, and not because I'm unable to stop stalking him?"

"He said you were stalking him?"

"Not exactly. He said I had stalking behavior, apparently. I didn't notice. I– I've been fighting very hard to act normal around him. I promise that if he had just rejected my advances I would've kept my volunteering. I mean, it would've been awkward but I really do enjoy being out there. He made it pretty clear that I've been making him uncomfortable, and that's something I can't gut. Um… So, yeah, that's that."

Hotchner did not have it that easy to hide from his sister-in-law. Jessica narrowed her eyes at him when he came back home from a long work trip in Texas. As he asked about Jack, worried that her sour mood had to do with something regarding his son, she sighed crossing her arms.

"You told her you felt stalked? Really?"

Understanding washed over him.

"I might've misused the word," Aaron took accountability for his mistake.

"I cannot believe you can be so dumb! Aaron, she likes you! And you like her too, don't try to lie to me."

"She's too young and–"

"You're scared. That is normal, but listen to me, you deserve to be happy again. I'm pretty sure that a doctor will understand your crazy schedule better than anyone else. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"It's done. Forget about it."

Pressing her hands against her eyes, Jess tried to calm down her anger. "Fine. I'm going to leave you alone, just one thing, Aaron, you've hurt her pretty badly and if you don't fix your mistake soon, you're going to miss your opportunity. She's a nice person, and she deserves better than to be humiliated that way."

"It wasn't my intention."

"Just because there was no ill intention in your behavior, does not mean that you're innocent of the damage you've caused." Gathering her things, she headed out the door. "Oh, and by the way, she asked me to tell you that she won't be volunteering for the team anymore. Not because she's unable to stop stalking you, but because the way you're rejected her made her believe that her presence is unwelcome and makes you uncomfortable, so… Well done."

Aaron did not give much thought to that until the weekend rolled over and you weren't there. While the parents and guardians were concerned about your well-being, the children stubbornly refused to start without you on the field because in their minds you were an essential part of the team, just as the coach was. Dave caught him lost in his mind more than once, but he never said anything out loud.

Three weeks after leaving the soccer team you were still surprised at how much you missed it. Weaver gave you all the hours you asked for to work on the weekends in order to fill your mind with work instead of daydreaming about how much fun the kids must've been having. Jessica told you once that Travis had scratched his knees but refused treatment even from his dad as he cried calling for you. That touched your broken heart; knowing that the little ones appreciated your presence even if it was irrelevant meant so much to you.

That Sunday you'd been working since Saturday morning treating everything from mild intoxication to hardcore injuries. Adrenaline was still pumping in your veins as you tore the yellow gown off to deposit it in the bin with the gloves you just used on the car-crash patient that Coleen was taking to the OR. Cracking your neck, you grabbed your white coat from where you'd dropped it to attend to the emergency. Slipping it on top of your scrubs (a patient had vomited on you during the night which forced you to change clothes) you approached the admission desk.

"Got something for me, Jerry?"

"Take your pick," he pointed to the row of histories.

"That's not fair! How is it I cannot pick?" said a petulant voice next to you.

"Because you're a student, Natalie. Here, take this. Seems the patient needs sutures."

"That's all I'm doing. Sutures, sutures, sutures," she mumbled as she went to gather the patient.

That's when a known figure caught your eye in the waiting room. Frowning, you looked at the histories, finding two familiar names. With the documents in your arms, you cross the waiting room towards them.

David Rossi was nursing his injured arm against his chest, standing next to Aaron and Jack, who were seating in the waiting room. He saw you at the admissions desk looking through the histories before taking two of them and walking straight towards him. That's when he knew it had been a good idea to make Aaron drive them to this concrete hospital. Aaron's eyes were locked on his son's injury, therefore he tensed slightly when he heard your voice after so long.

"Why, good morning, Jack," you cheerfully greet the young child that's sitting in his father's lap, who was pressing a towel against his son's head. "Didn't you have a match today?"

"I got hurt," the boy pouted although you could see he was enduring the pain.

"Why won't you come with me? Come with us, Dave," the man nodded with a glint in his eyes.

You haven't even glanced at Aaron's face, afraid that you may compromise your patient's needs by remembering the humiliating rejection you've suffered.

When he gathered the courage to look at you, his heart clenched in need as, for the first time since he'd known you, your beautiful eyes never landed on him. Not even once.

With Jack seated on a bed in the ER, you removed the towel finding a small wound surrounded by dry blood. It was puffy and bluish. Rossi explained that Jack had passed out while on the field and he had launched to get him, failing, and hurting his wrist on the landing.

"Very well, Jack, I'm going to ask you to do something for me," you said putting your penlight away after looking at the response in his eyes. "I want you to touch your nose with your fingertips, then pull the arms as far away as you can, and touch your nose again," you demonstrated what you wanted and the boy did it without trouble. "Well done. Now follow my finger without moving your head. That's right… Very good, Jack. Give me your hands. Grab mine as hard as you can. Good. Now," you put your hands on top of his feet, "try to push my hands up. As hard as you can. There you go. Okay.

"I'll listen to your heart now." After that and checking his reflexes, you sat on a small stool by the bed and asked him a few questions to evaluate his mental state. He was shy at first, but then he started babbling coherently, which was a good sign. "Jack, did you feel bad before the match?"

The boy looked at his dad and at Rossi, "No."

"I might not be a profiler, but that seems like a lie to me. Do you want to try again?"

"I– I had a tummyache."

"When you went to the bathroom, was your poop very liquid?"

"Yeah…"

"You didn't tell your dad?" Jack shook his head, regretting it immediately. "Why not, sweetheart?"

"I want to spend time with him, but if he's the coach and I can't play, then I have to go with Aunt Jess or look from the sidelines. That's not fun."

"Perfectly understandable. Does your tummy hurt still? No? When was the last time you ate something?"

Opening the history, you scrabble and check several squares before facing Aaron Hotchner for the first time, pulling your most professional façade on. He was waiting, observing every single move with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't see any symptoms of concussion. Jack doesn't even react badly to the light when pointed directly at his eyes. I believe that he's caught the stomach bug that's been running among children for the last few weeks and he's dehydrated due to the diarrhea.

"I'm going to run some blood tests, just to be certain. Although the headwound is superficial I'm aware that you'll feel better if we take some X-rays. I'll give him some fluids, clean the wound, and he'll be free to go if the tests come back clear.

"Once at home, lots of liquids. Water, Gatorade… Bland food, the usual. Keep him awake at least until his bedtime, that way you'll be aware of something bad happening. It's not going to happen anything bad, though."

He nodded, unable to find his voice after feeling the way your eyes stabbed him. Aaron Hotchner made a life out of analyzing people and he could see how hard you were trying to stand composed in front of him, to hide how strongly he had hurt you.

"Now you, Dave," you palped his wrist and scrunched your nose. "It's not broken. I think it's dislocated. I'm going to send you to X-rays with Jack, that way you keep each other company, and we'll see what's the situation with your wrist before trying to put it in place. Any questions? None? Good. Haleh," you called the nurse, "blood tests and fluids for the little man. A round of X-rays for both of them."

"On it."

"Need some help!!" Carter yelled while running towards the entrance of the emergency where an ambulance was dropping an injured and bloody patient.

"I'll be back when the X-rays are done," you promised the three men before running for the second ambulance. "What do we have?"

As the paramedic was explaining the patient's situation, she started to code which made you copy one of Carter's most dramatic moves and jump on top of the gurney to start compressions as the paramedics kept pushing it toward box two.

"That's really cool," Jack whispered mesmerized by the display of action. Aaron caressed his son's head with love.

Time went by, busy as always in the ER so your hands were full with both complicated and easy cases. Rossi, Aaron, and Jack spent the time waiting for the X-rays before waiting in the ER again; it didn't annoy them much, and they understood how it worked. Overall, they were all aware that they would still be waiting for their turn if you hadn't been working that day and saw them in the waiting room.

You were exhausted when you saw the three men again. Haleh handed you the X-ray complaining about how rude the technicians were when overloaded with work. Greeting them again, you put Jack's rays on a light panel close by.

"Look, Jack. This is your head. Can you see these circles? Those are your eyes. Now, this is the side where you had hit your head. There's no trace of damage in the bone," you looked at Hotch to make your message clear. "I can see that the fluids bag is almost empty. That's a good sign. Blood tests came back clear as well. Jack is fine. As I said before, liquids and bland food until the stomach bug is over.

"Let's see Dave's hand now…" You changed the rays. Rossi's wrist had been dislocated, as you thought.

Getting ready the needed stuff for the cast before placing the wrist in place, you explained everything to Jack who watched your moves like a hawk. Using Rossi's distraction, you pull his hand, putting his bones in place. It hurt him, and he cursed under his breath so you gifted him with your most innocent smile.

"You need the cast to avoid hurting your wrist more. Be more careful, David."

"As you say, Doc."

Carter's voice calling for you prevented you from pointing out his age. You turned to see him pointing to the board. Right, your shift must've been over three hours ago. Thumbs up you wink at him before turning your attention to your patients once again.

"I'm going to put you in the cast while Jack's bag completely empties, and then you guys can leave. Sounds good?"

"Who is that?" Jack asked.

"Doctor Carter," you simply say, focusing on the cast.

"Is he your boyfriend?" the child insisted. Aaron tensed with his son's boldness.

"Nope."

"Jack, it's not nice to ask those questions," Hotch reprimanded, making him pout.

"I just want to understand why she's not coming anymore." That admission stabbed him right in the heart.

"I'm not coming because you don't need me, Jack," you smiled at him. Another stab clenched Hotch's chest, he'd told you that.

"But we want you there!! It's not the same without you."

"That's very sweet, but it doesn't change the situation. This is done. Haleh will take that out of you, Jack. Be good," you pointed to both of your patients, ignoring Aaron once again.

Leaving them behind, you approached the admission counter to fix the paperwork when Carter cornered you with his cheeky expression and half smile. You rolled your eyes, putting your arms up in surrender.

"Fine. Fine. I'm leaving. See? This is me leaving."

"You better get out of my ER before another ambulance comes by."

"Meany."

"Out."

Rossi hummed watching the interaction just as Aaron's jaw set in distaste. "Is that jealousy or envy?"

"Not now, Dave."

It didn't take you too long to get ready to leave the hospital, and just at the moment you were crossing the doors you saw an ambulance come to a halt. Standing on the tip of your toes, you try to take a good look at the patient but Carter gave you 'the look' and you gave up. You just wanted to keep yourself busy. It was lunchtime and although you wanted to eat, you didn't want to do it all alone in your small apartment.

Walking towards the bus stop, you pulled out your phone thinking about ordering from the Indian restaurant close to your place and picked it up on your way. With a sigh, you decided you were not that hungry anyway.

Once in their home after that long morning in the ER, Aaron tried to pry the real feelings from his son, who openly told him that yes, he missed you and that he thought that you two were going to date in the future.

"You smile way more when she's on the team, Daddy," he had told him.

His resolution was clear, he was going to confront you, take accountability for his mistake, and beg you for a chance. Work prevented him from doing it right away.

You didn't hear from the Hotchner men or David Rossi for the next few days, which you anticipated, but when Saturday rolled up you found yourself in an ambulance next to Doctor Carter and Nurse Patton running to attend a hostage situation.

The place is a grocery store. Hostages are pressed against its windows to prevent the shooters from having a visual of the suspect. There's a control area with local agents and the FBI, and as you're led there by an officer, you locked eyes with Aaron Hotchner. He seemed composed and focused, but the moment he saw you his frown deepened and his skin ashen.

The three of you were introduced to the agents and you let Carter take control of the situation. He's older than you, your superior, and he had proved his leadership countless times in the hospital.

"The unsub is desperate. He is a father who's seen his world crumbling in the last few months as social services threatened to take his children from him," Rossi explained to all of you.

"He's compassionate with other people but he won't hesitate to kill in order to keep the custody of his children. He has asked for a medical team as there's a wounded hostage and a pregnant woman in terrible pain," the agent introduced as Emily Prentiss continued.

"He is reckless. He's cornered and that makes him dangerous. Under no circumstance try to approach him, antagonize him, or contradict him. Understand? He's volatile at this point and if he believes that you are the enemy, he will kill you on the spot." Although Hotchner's words were meant for the three of you, his eyes never left you for too long.

"Is there any plan?" Carter asked.

"He'll be distracted with you there. You just have to focus on doing your job. There's a CCTV system with video and audio that still work. We have eyes and ears on you."

"Fair enough. Patton, when we get in, you and I will attend to the wounded. You," Carter pointed at you, "go to the pregnant and check on the baby."

"Understood."

"Let's get you inside."

Following Agent Morgan to the end of the perimeter your heart quickened its beating rate pumping your blood faster through your veins boosted by the adrenaline raising in your system. The unsub, as the FBI called him, ordered the bunch of you to show that you weren't armed before allowing you to enter.

The man, in his late fifties but athletic, was sweating profusely. His eyes never focused on a spot for too long. His hands were running through his hair, drying his face, fidgeting anxiously. Saying that he was unstable was a huge misunderstanding. When Carter asked for his name, the man mumbled Eli almost unconsciously before cursing and aiming at the doctor with his gun claiming that they weren't there to talk to him.

Carter calmly explained his plan of action to Eli before proceeding. Patton and Carter found the wounded victim bleeding in abundance from a bullet wound in his thigh. As they worked fast and efficiently on it, Eli hovered over them with guilt written all over his face. The man kept promising that it had been an accident, that the gun had shot itself because the victim kept talking and talking. Carter deemed the wound not life-threatening itself as it hadn't pierced the artery; however, Eli wasn't sure how long it had been since the man was bleeding, which made the situation delicate still.

Meanwhile, you've approached the pregnant woman asking for her name with a soft calming smile on your face. Patty was focused enough to tell you that this was her first pregnancy, that she had gone to the grocery store craving pickles and peanut butter, and that she was in huge pain that had increased in the last few minutes. Putting on some gloves, you informed her that she needed a pelvic exam to see if everything was alright, but you started the exploration by touching her belly and auscultating both her chest and her belly in order to find a trace of the baby's heartbeat if possible. After that, you pulled up her dress finding a concerning hemorrhage.

"Alright, Patty. Can you tell me how often it hurts?" You removed her bloody underwear before proceeding to the exam and… "You're in labor."

"No. No. No. There's no way. It's early still. It's early."

"That makes your baby a bit impatient," you joked kindly.

The most important thing was that Patty remained as calm as possible, which wasn't much. After noticing how dilated she was, you found the baby's head ready to start its journey into the world. Then you palpated it. The umbilical cord was surrounding the baby's neck. As Patty started to scream you could feel the baby moving forward as she was pushing.

"No, Patty. Don't push."

"It hurts!"

"I know it does, but you can't push just yet. Mister Eli," you called for the unsub, "this woman is in labor and she needs a hospital."

"She's not leaving!!"

"I'm not making a suggestion, I'm stating a fact," you sternly answered piercing him with your determination. You weren't scared of him. "If this woman and her baby die here, it would be your fault."

Eli ran towards you pushing his gun to your forehead, you didn't even blink refusing to show weakness. "Then do your job."

"Oh, I'm going to. I'm not a miracle worker, though. And I need help."

Outside, in the control center, Aaron was losing his cool. On the inside, of course, he rarely broadcasts his emotions. Dave knew him well enough to put his castless hand on top of his friend's crossed arms to give him support.

"She's strong," whether it was a statement or a reminder, they didn't know.

The fact that you weren't cowering under Eli's aggressive behavior broke his resolve allowing two of the hostages on the windows to help you. One of them volunteered because she was a med student; she had been helping the wounded man before the arrival of the ambulance. You asked her to monitor Patty as the other volunteer helped you handing you whatever you needed at the moment.

Trying to calm down Patty, you winked at her as if saying that her condition wasn't as grave as you'd told the unsub. Focusing your senses on your hands, you tried to remove the umbilical cord from the baby's neck without hurting it or the mother. It took some time and deep breaths but in the end, you were able to move it around freeing the neck. Patty was close to collapse, sweaty and exhausted. You asked her to push with every contraction. Head out. Another push and there came the shoulders. Another big one and the baby was limp between your hands, blue and unresponsive. Clamping the cord, you cut it before depositing the infant on top of a bunch of towels the volunteer had gathered from the end of the store for you. You start the baby's reanimation.

"She's passed out," the med student told you anxiously.

Without stopping your compressions you saw Patty unconscious, bleeding way too much.

"Carter!!"

"I'm not done yet," he shot you a look across the place.

"Fuck… She hasn't expulsed the placenta yet, Carter."

"She has to go to a hospital," Carter spat to Eli.

"No one is leaving until they gave me my children back!!"

The newborn made a complaining sound before starting to cry. Taking a deep breath, you auscultated her to make sure that everything was fine. You wrapped her on the towels and handled her to the volunteer with the order of keeping her warm and to make sure that if she stopped breathing at any moment, you were called.

Turning your attention to Patty there wasn't much you could do at the moment. Her heart rate was decreasing, and she kept losing blood. There was a hospital a mile away, she could make it and they would be able to help her before it was too late.

"Under no circumstance try to approach him, antagonize him, or contradict him," Hotchner's words danced in your head as you got up from the floor peeling the damp gloves.

Fuck it.

"Are you happy now?" You spat at Eli. Carter's patient was receiving CPR uselessly.

"Don't move," Eli pointed his gun at you.

"You know? The officers out there told us that you were a compassionate man. That you just wanted your children back. I thought I could understand you then, you were just a father loving his children and wanting to be with them."

"Exactly!! I'm–"

"You're not," you calmly cut his outburst shocking him. "You're a disgusting piece of garbage. Did social services take your children? Well, if you behave out there just as half as you did here I'm surprised they didn't take them sooner."

"Shut up!!"

There was a commotion outside when Aaron grabbed his gun and headed towards the perimeter, Morgan and Rossi caught him before he could even take a step away from them. Dave took the gun out of his grip.

"What's wrong with you?" Morgan demanded.

"She's going to get herself killed!"

"I know this is tricky for you, but you can't just break protocol, Aaron."

"Dave, she's inside and–"

"She's giving us an opening," Reid's absent voice ran through them. "Look, he's so focused on her and their argument that we can approach the store and take him without him noticing."

After a moment of studying the situation, Hotch took his gun again and nodded. "Let's get ready."

They put on the earpieces that kept reproducing the conversation that was taking place inside the store in order to give them the correct tempo.

"Look at what you've done," you pressed. Your voice was low and stern, completely calm as you kept approaching him cornering him against the counter of the store without him noticing. "A woman that still had time to become a mother, is now dying on the floor because of you. A man is dead because of you."

"It was an accident. I– The gun–"

"They could've lived if you had left them to leave to a hospital. Compassionate, they said," you snorted in mockery. "You're just a selfish bastard that would kill his own children if they disobeyed."

"That's not true!! Not true. I never touched them. I– I'm a good man."

"You're a murderer. Funny thing how you assumed your children aren't here yet because the police won't take them, but you know the truth, don't you? They don't want to have anything to do with you."

"No!"

"They know what you are and they don't want to be with you."

It was fast. One second Eli was an anxious and sweaty mess moving from side to side with unfocussed attention, and the next he was ready to shoot you between the eyes. However, your change was just as fast. One second you were approaching him slowly, and the next you hit him in the face with your elbow in a perfect move. Eli lost his balance falling face-first to the floor. You kicked the gun away before he grabbed you, pulling you underneath him. He punched you in the face before Carter hooked his head with his arm tearing him away from you. The door burst open and the FBI took Eli away.

In the mess that was taking the unsub away from the store, checking on all the hostages, and guiding the EMT to the injured, Aaron was unable to take a proper look at you which made him feel antsy.

With Patty and her baby in an ambulance and all the hostages safe, except for the wounded man that had perished, Hotchner approached you. His stern demeanor hardened his set jaw and frowning brow.

"We had video and audio from the inside. What you did was reckless. What were you thinking? Did you not pay any attention to what I had to say before you got in? Eli Marsh could've–"

"I did my job, Agent Hotchner. I'm a doctor and my job is to help people in need. My patient was losing blood and she needed a hospital, so I got her out of there. I'd do it again if needed."

Before he could say something else, Rossi called for you to make your statement.

Aaron saw you leaving with steady feet and felt his chest puff with pride at how brave you'd been. Dave's look in the distance made him take a deep breath and handle the situation as the Unit Chief he was; he needed to clear his mind.

Back at the office, the team dispersed to complete their paperwork. He had no idea how long he'd been surrounded by papers to fulfill, but as he was writing his statement, his mind wandered away, and the images of you confronting and insulting a volatile unsub with such a strong stance and calm tone assaulted him.

A soft know in his office door pulled him away from that helpless memory. David Rossi observed him with those profiler eyes.

"Yes?"

"Stop being this stupid, Aaron. Go to her."

"I'm not done."

"There's no rush. Plus, Morgan and I will take care of all the paperwork that doesn't need your direct participation."

Looking out of his window to the bullpen he saw his whole team looking back at him. They all knew.

"Go." His friend insisted.

Despite the dangerous situation and nerve-wracking job, you had to perform that day, you went back to your hospital to check in with your bosses. Weaver gave you, Carter, and Patton the rest of the day off as well as the day after that. Patton left immediately, but Carter and you procrastinated for almost two hours in the staff room talking about the day.

When Carter decided he had energy enough to go home, he offered you a ride and you gratefully accepted. Heading out of the ER door, it took you a couple of glances to acknowledge that the silhouette you were seeing was actually there and not a side effect of the stressful day you'd had.

"Go ahead," you told Carter. He looked between the man and you as the distance shortened. He didn't seem pleased with leaving you alone but did it nonetheless. "Agent Hotchner," you greeted him. "Is there anything else I had to do with the case today?"

Shying away, Hotch fixed his tie, "This isn't an official visit. I just– Are you hungry?"

"That depends. Why are you asking?"

"I want to buy you dinner."

"Why?"

You weren't going to make it easy for him and when he noticed he smiled slightly. "Because I like you and I've been an asshole lately and today I– I was terrified when I saw you come down from the ambulance. I'm not ready to have you out of my sight."

"That sounds concerning."

"I'm sorry about what I said when you asked me out. I– I pushed you away because I wasn't sure about how long I could keep my distance. I wasn't fair and I know it. This doesn't have to lead to anything, but…"

"Nothing fancy, though."

Smiling more broadly, Aaron nodded. "Nothing fancy," he promised making a gesture towards his car.

The end.

#criminal minds #cm #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch #fem reader #aaron hotchner x reader #dr john carter #er #fanfic #fanfiction #hurt/comfort

452 notes · View notes

dreamingofep · 2 months

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 22 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! I’m having a lot of fun writing about not one, but two vampires now🤭 Reader is a really challenging vampire so Elvis has his hands full with you🤭 Hope you like this little part. More to come shortly! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3 I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

One.

We’re one.

That word left you breathless and never thought it would be completely true. He made you his and you did the same. You feel like you’re on a cloud, floating aimlessly around him and this new world you had to discover. You continue to study every detail of him, some that you’ve never realized he had before. Like the way his sideburns curl at the ends by his ears. Or how his eyebrows had this fluffiness to them and perfectly framed his eyes. And the way his neck has this perfectly carved musculature to it that makes you want to lick all the way up to the part of his neck you bit before.

The feeling of his touch zaps you back to reality and you look back into his eyes. You’re still taken aback by the beautiful golden sparkling eyes that look back into yours.

“How do you feel baby?” He coos.

You had to pause and think about it. You weren’t accustomed to any of this and weren’t exactly sure what you should be feeling.

“I think I’m okay, everything feels a little different but I feel perfectly fine so far,” you smile.

“I know honey, you’ll need some getting used to it all but it’s okay. I’ll help you through it all,” he assures.

Your thumb rubs against his smooth, flawless face. “How long was I….sleeping? I don’t know exactly what the right word is,” You ask.

“Eight days. I-I-I don’t know why…I’ve never been so scared. I thought I did something wrong.” His voice trembles, pulling you tighter in his arms.

You could feel this impending dread and anxiety in the pit of your stomach and consumed every ounce of your energy. But it wasn’t coming from you, you weren’t feeling like that at all. It was like being fed to you and amplified by a loudspeaker.

You take a step back and look at him bewildered.

“What the hell was that?” You ask in shock.

“What was what?” He looks at you concerned.

“That feeling of impending doom, but I wasn’t the one creating that feeling. It was almost like it was being shown to me or something,” you stutter.

He puts his hands on your arms to calm you and he gives a small smirk at you.

“I think that’s just our bond. Our senses are heightened and attuned to one another more than ever now that we’re bonded. Remember how I told you I could feel your pain when Raphael took you? In some way, that was a small preview of what would happen to us after we were one. I didn’t know it would feel that intense to you I’m sorry about that,” he says sheepishly.

“No it’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry. It was just unexpected to feel an emotion that isn’t my own, you know?” You try to articulate.

“I get it, honey. I honestly am still trying to find more answers about what our new abilities hold,” he explains.

This was a world that even Elvis wasn’t accustomed to and that was a bit frightening. There was so much to discover.

“So you have no idea why I didn’t change right away?” You ask, rubbing circles with your thumb on his forearm, his skin feeling obsessional. The way it’s so soft and melted into yours without trying. You wanted to feel so much more of it. Starting with his back under this silk shirt he had on or feel those soft little hairs on his chest you loved so much.

Jesus focus.

“No, I haven’t yet. None of the legends go into the details of what Chosen mates go through because they are so rare. God, I was so scared, I had no idea what had gone wrong or if this was completely normal.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone honey. I can’t believe I changed like this.”

“I know, you changed very slowly. First, with your heart slowing to an immortal pace. It was strange, it didn’t have that normal symphonic sound that I was used to hearing so much. Then your scars on your body healed and started to be covered by this beautiful glowing skin,” he says dreamily, dragging his finger ever so slowly down your neck and along the top of your breast. Your body can’t help but arch into that touch that leaves your skin aflame. He takes a deep breath and recomposes himself.

“Then you were very still, with no signs that you’d be waking up from this hibernation any time soon. I was like a caged animal, pacing the room all day and night worried sick I somehow did something terribly wrong to you. I called some friends, vampires, if they had heard about anything like this happening when the change was occurring and every answer I got was the same. They’d never heard anything like this and didn’t know a bonded mate existed anymore. ”

“On the fourth day, I looked at myself in the mirror, ready to be faced by the monster who ruined his Chosen mate and isn’t waking up for whatever reason. For the last fourteen years, I have been used to staring at the red, glowing, soulless eyes that I have been cursed with for quite some time now. I was shocked by every fiber of my being when I saw these glowing youthful eyes stare back at me instead. I was in shock and didn’t know what was happening to me.”

“Sometimes, I tried to wake you, calling your name and have you open your eyes for me, but to my disappointment, you never did. But I could hear your heart flutter at the sound of my voice so I’d talk to you, coaxing you through this all hoping you’d wake up faster. It gave me hope that you were still in there and just needed the time to change. I’d caress your face, feeling how perfect your face felt in my hand.”

As he’s explaining this all, you feel the worry come off of him and it hits you like a tornado. You try to brace yourself for such emotions coming your way but it's almost impossible.

“And the strangest thing happened a few days after that…” he mumbles.

“What do you mean?” You prod.

You chuckle a bit before starting to speak again, “Well, I was changing, physically. I don’t know why but, I was changing into my twenty-four-year-old self without me even thinking about it. It just came so naturally to me because well, that is what I look like under all this in reality. But I’ve always controlled how I look, it doesn’t just get out of hand and I hardly need to think about staying that physical appearance.”

“So I was walking around here worried sick about you, trying to alter my appearance again so you wouldn’t be so startled when you woke up and not be able to recognize me from the last time you saw me,” he chuckles.

“Oh honey, that’s so strange… I really wonder why that is. But I wouldn’t have minded waking up to you like that. Nevertheless handsome, I could never forget this perfect face,” you quip.

He slyly smirks, “thanks little darlin’,” he says low, his eyes staring at your pink lips. He makes a small grumble in his chest as wraps his arms around you once more. “We’ll get some answers soon, let me just hold you.”

His warmth engulfs you and this sense of comfort and longing fills the pit of your stomach. You sigh into him, savoring every last feeling he’s giving you.

“You’re so warm,” you sigh into his chest. He hums delighted, squeezing you tighter before looking down at you.

“We’re the same body temperature now,” he murmurs.

“Oh… I didn’t even think of that,” you say embarrassed. “How do I feel? Any different than the last?” You ask cheekily.

“Hmm… I haven’t gotten to touch ya, let me see,” he coos.

He carefully unties the robe and slips his hands along the curve of your back. You let out a stifled breath and look up at him longingly. His hands travel down further til he fills his hands with your ass and squeezes it firmly. You claw at his biceps and you can’t help but want more from his talented hands. You feel all this desire come flowing out of him and barreling toward you. You feel like it's suffocating you and yet you can’t get enough of it. His hands move back up your back and squeeze at your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“You feel more perfect than ever,” he says as he stares at your breasts. He drags one of his hands up your torso til he can cup your breast and roll your nipple in between his fingers. A spark of electricity runs through you and you moan. You press your face into the crook of his neck and groan in agony. That delicious-smelling scent fills your head once again and makes you feel intoxicated. You groan heavily as you look at him, “what’s that smell?” You ask.

He places his hand back on your hip and throws you a confused look.

“Your senses are overwhelmed right now honey, it could be a number of things. What does it smell like to you baby?” He asks.

“It’s warm and sweet, almost like honey. But savory and delectable, like I can just take a bite out of it and be pleased beyond my wildest dreams,” you try to explain. He tries to hide his pompous smirk but you catch it anyway.

“What? What is that look for?” You press.

“Umm well darlin’, I think that’s me you’re smelling. That’s how you smell to me at least, all sweet and decadent. Like I could feed from that heavenly nectar and feel alive again,” he says low and sultry.

God yes, he makes you feel just like that without even trying. He runs a finger down your neck again and you see how much he wants you.

It’s not only him you’re attracted to, it’s the scent of his blood drawing you to him, this invisible bond attached to the lust for blood coursing through your veins. It all makes you feel for Elvis when you two first met. How he explained to you he thought you were beautiful and the scent of you only put him over the edge of wanting you. That’s how you felt at this moment. You already loved this man so much but now, what you would give for a taste of him. In a flash, this immense wave of hunger consumed you and you looked up at him frightened, unsure of what to do. Your throat started to burn and your mouth watered by just the mere idea of blood.

Especially Elvis’.

Your memory was very murky when you tried to remember how he tasted when you bit him to complete the change. You remember it not tasting very good at first, then it turned into something delicious.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, calm down. Let's get you something to drink alright?” He assures you, closing your robe up again, and ties it shut. He takes your hand to lead you downstairs to the kitchen but you stop him in his tracks by pulling slightly on his arm. You were a little shocked so little force actually stopped him. It was going to take some time to realize you’re just as strong as Elvis now. He looks at you a little surprised too and tries to lure you further out of the room by taking a few steps away.

“I want yours, right now,” you command, barely recognizing your voice right now with how demanding you sound. He lets out an intrigued grumble and feel him like that idea very much.

“Not right now honey, you have zero control and I’m almost sure you’d try to suck me dry,” he quips smartly. “For the first time, I’m the one with the great control, and not you. We have blood in the kitchen, come on honey,” he coaxes.

Your blood boiled not getting your way. It was very irrational, yes, but this new lust for blood made you feel very differently than you ever have. Your throat continued to burn and you huffed at Elvis and reluctantly followed him down to the kitchen. There was no one here and you could hear the waves crash on the shore from below. The wind whirled through the palm tree leaves and you could hear people playing on the shore of the beach.

He lets go of your hand and goes to the refrigerator. The middle shelf was stacked with blood bags and Elvis grabbed one off the top. Something about the notion of drinking blood this way for the first time made you feel queasy. Maybe the human part of you was still inside of you holding on for dear life.

You look up at Elvis with the bag in his hand and going to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

“Okay, baby we can do this one of two ways. Either I can pour this in a glass for you or, you can learn how to use your fangs. Which one do you prefer?” He taunts.

Your fangs.

Oh my God, how could you have forgotten you have fangs now? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how to use them or even get them to descend.

“Teach me how to use my fangs,” you say promptly.

“Hmm, good girl,” he praises, “okay come here,” he says leading you to the table. He takes a seat on one of the chairs and has you stand in front of him.

“You need to focus on your fangs and your fangs alone. Everyone is a little different but visualize them, picture your teeth becoming sharp and strong. Let that hunger you have drive them out,” he explains.

You swallow and feel the thirst in your throat grow greater. You huff slightly in frustration and try to focus like he’s saying. You’ve never actually seen your fangs so it’s hard for you to visualize what they might look like. But you can only assume they look like Elvis’, long and sharp.

You look at the blood bag in his hand and try to imagine how it’ll taste when you finally taste that blood. Your mouth waters just thinking about it and you think that’s a good sign your body is responding to it in a good way.

“Breathe in through your nose, smell it. That helps a lot,” he says.

You do just that and take a deep breath, trying to get the scent of the blood in your nose and get your newfound senses to work. You lick your lips and take more deep breaths, trying to pick up the scent.

Warm and rich honey swirls in your head and you know what that smell is.

You look up at him with hunger-filled eyes, grab onto his wrist, and try to pull him in but he anticipates the move.

“I just smell you. Baby I want you,” you plead, every breath creating more hunger inside you.

He smirks at you amused and shakes his head at you.

“I know you do, but you don’t get to have mine just yet. You need to learn how to focus and use your senses properly,” he says smugly.

You groan in protest, hating you're not getting your way.

“Please, please let me honey. I’m starving,” you continue to plead. He presses his lips together to stop the laugh about to come out.

“Is this how I sounded to you? So needy and hungry all the time? I’m so sorry darling to put you through that when you were human, that must have been awful to hear all the time,” he winks.

“You fucking little tease,” you grumble, swallowing back the pain in your throat.

“Oh come now honey, I’m just trying to help you. You need to focus or you’ll never get to drink my blood,” he pesters.

You grumble, so annoyed with him and how he’s not letting you do what you want. You try to refocus on the bag and make your entire senses focus on what’s in there. You huff and groan at your thirst and take a deep breath in, closing your eyes to try and get your mind to focus on the bag.

A delicious little whiff hits your nose that smells completely different from Elvis and you pop your eyes back to him.

“I smell it,” you say hurriedly.

“Good, now keep taking deep breaths and let your fangs descend. You can do it, honey,” he coaxes.

You hiss as the burning in your throat worsens and the smell of the blood overwhelms you. You feel no change happening in your mouth and you’re beginning to get extremely frustrated. You were so hungry and this wasn’t easy like you thought.

“Goddamn it this is impossible. I can’t do this. Just cut open the bag,” you growl at him.

Elvis lets out a small chuckle and sees how frustrated you’ve become.

“Okay baby, seems like I need to give you a little more motivation hmm?” He smiles and brings his other wrist to his mouth.

You watch as he nips at his skin and the whiff of his delectable scent consumes you and makes your eyes roll back. You watch as his blood slides down his arm in a small pebble.

“Fucking hell are you kidding me?! You fucking tease! Please honey, please let me,” you beg, about to grab his wrist but he’s much quicker than you and pulls it away from you in time. You hate his crass behavior and growl, baring your teeth at him in anger. His mouth forms into a pleased smile watching you.

“There’s my girl,” he whispers. Your brows furrow and don’t understand what he’s saying and are about to snap at him but your tongue grazes along your teeth. There you feel your razor-sharp fangs bared and ready to bite. You can’t help but be a little surprised by the feeling of them and look back at Elvis, then back to his arm.

“Focus,” he snaps. “Focus on the bag,” he adds.

You groan and shoot your eyes back at the bag in his hand and try your best to avoid looking at his blood rolling down his arm.

You grab his hand with the bag in it and bring it closer to your face and can pinpoint the smell again.

“Gently, take a bite on the bag. Not too harsh or you’ll make the bag burst open. I don’t want you to spill a drop,” he teases.

You glare at him before looking back down and gently biting the bag. Your fangs are so sharp it didn’t take much pressure to make holes in it and the crimson fluid hit your tongue. You swallow it quickly and feel that burning in your throat reside slowly. It tasted good, not at all the same delectable smell Elvis had, but it would do. You start to squeeze the bag to let the blood flow quicker in your mouth and fill this hunger inside you. You can feel some of it dribble out of your mouth and onto your chin.

Shit. He’s not going to like that.

But you were too hungry to care about the mess you’d make. You suck the last few drops out of the bag and do feel much better. Your throat wasn’t on fire anymore and you didn’t have this unquenchable thirst. But lord, Elvis’ blood still called out to you menacingly.

You carefully take your teeth off the bag and look up at Elvis to see if he’d give you some of his.

“How do you feel baby?” He asks quietly.

“Better,” you say breathlessly, still eyeing his wrist. He looks down at his wrist too and looks back up at you with a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Oh, you think you can have some of this now? Well, you didn’t exactly listen to my instructions,” he quips, motioning to your mouth and your chest.

You look down and see you spilled more than you thought you did. You see a stream of it running down your chest and in between your breasts.

You let out a frustrated sigh, “you’re no fun to make deals with!” You snap.

“Too bad. You’ll learn to not make a mess eventually,” he teases, “as far as this mess, I’ll clean this up,” he says slowly.

He pulls you in by your hips and makes you stand in between his legs. You hiss at his forceful touch, on absolute edge right now with his bleeding arm. He opens your robe slightly and looks up at you with a big grin on his face. In one long swipe, he licks the dribbling blood from your breasts to your chin. His tongue ignites something dangerous inside you and you groan in agony as every part of you feels hyper-sensitive. Your heart pounded away as he did this and made it all feel more erotic than he might have intended. You thought you liked his tongue before but nothing compares to how it feels now. You want so much more of him and it makes you feel insatiable.

He reaches your mouth and puts the most delicate kiss on your lips. You want to collapse in his arms as he grabs onto your hips tighter. You softly tug at his hair, moaning into his mouth, “more,” you whimper.

He pulls away, “Still such a bad, bad girl. I don’t know how I’m going to handle all this newfound neediness,” he taunts.

“Oh I’m sure you have a fucking list of things of how you’ll manage it,” you say annoyed, rolling your eyes at him.

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm, you know me so well.”

•

Tagging: @powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything@ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114@raginginkedslut@epthedream69

@mh777ep1938@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis fic #vampire Elvis #70s Elvis #sinned awakening

65 notes · View notes