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unnecessarycraziness · 1 year

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Hey so a woman just died in my area after falling into our local creek, so I think I should maybe make a PSA about water safety! Do be aware though that I am not an expert on the matter - although I’ve studied various disasters and accidents, many of which are relevant to this, and am basing much of my information here on outside sources, some of this comes from my own experience and local wisdom, which may be incorrect or misinterpreted. I’m only trying to spread awareness, and if any of my information is incorrect please don’t hesitate to correct me.

Be careful around water, folks, especially moving water. Even if a creek looks small and relatively tame, the current can still be a huge threat (consider, for instance, the Bolton Strid in England); this tends to be worse during rainy periods or, in snowy areas, springtime when the snow is melting, but the hazard doesn’t necessarily go away at other times. Don’t go into water if you’re not sure it’s safe, and on a similar note be careful not to fall in. The banks of rivers and streams can be unstable and might collapse or simply be deceptively steep, and of course it’s possible to just slip or fall while walking nearby (I imagine this is probably what happened to the victim in my area, but I don’t have the full details so that’s more of an educated guess).

Also, immersion in water puts you at risk for hypothermia, even if it’s not especially cold. I live in a mountainous area and the creek comes straight down from the mountains, so it’s extremely cold, meaning there’s an added risk for something called cold shock - a set of involuntary responses to sudden immersion in cold water, including gasping, hyperventilation, and even heart problems - if you fall in unprepared. However, even relatively warm water can lead to hypothermia fairly quickly, as water drains your body heat far faster than air. The best example I can think of is the sinking of the Lusitania, in which many victims died of hypothermia in water that was around 50 degrees Fahrenheit or about 10 degrees Celsius - this temperature is by no means warm, but it’s not something that would immediately make most people think of hypothermia as a cause of death. Due to the aforementioned tendency of water to sap a person’s body heat, even water that might not be considered “cold” can have dangerous consequences, as seen with many of the Lusitania victims as well as those involved in countless other tragedies. Hell, I remember spending hours in some friends’ swimming pool when I was younger, only to get out for a bathroom break and find that my lips had turned blue from the cold despite it being a controlled environment in very hot weather!

Less related to this specific local case, storms are also a major hazard. Storms can and do cause flash flooding, which is extremely dangerous; even if water looks shallow, it can still be deadly, as only 6 inches (15 centimeters) of fast-moving flood water can be enough to knock over an adult, and 12 inches (one foot; 30 centimeters) can carry away cars. A large portion of drowning deaths in the United States occur because people attempt to walk or drive through flooded areas and are swept away. Flash floods are commonly caused by storms or dam failures, and dry or rocky areas can be especially susceptible (for instance, we get them fairly often in my area due to the steep, rocky mountains and dry desert valley). Most flash flood deaths occur because people underestimate the strength and speed of the water; canyons, ravines, and washes can also be hazardous during storms.

So, in summary:

Stay away from fast-moving water, even if it’s just a small creek or stream, unless you’re absolutely sure it’s safe.

Excercise particular caution during rainy seasons and, in snowy areas, warmer conditions that allow for large amounts of snowmelt.

Immersion in water can lead to hypothermia, even if it’s not excessively cold. Be aware of this fact, and of the possibility of cold shock.

Do not attempt to traverse flooded areas, even in a car or truck.

Don’t ignore warnings (both about water and in general).

If it starts to rain while you’re walking or hiking in a canyon, seek higher ground. Personally, I’d take nearby thunder as a warning sign as well, but do exercise caution when traversing high-up areas during a thunderstorm.

Always check the weather forecast before you go out into the wilderness.

Don’t camp or shelter in ditches, canyons, or washes during stormy conditions. This also includes sheltering from tornadoes; as a child growing up in Arkansas I was always warned not to take shelter in a ditch due to the risk of flash floods, although admittedly I’d rather hide in a dry ditch than get torn up by shrapnel.

If someone falls into dangerous water, don’t go after them unless you’re properly trained and equipped (i.e. trained rescue personnel with safety gear and backup). Call emergency services instead - you don’t want to get in the way of rescuers or, worse, become another casualty.

Again, please be careful around water. It’s a legitimate hazard and often gets underestimated. A good way to visualize how powerful water can be is this (admittedly humorous) video of a construction vehicle dumping a bucket of water on a car, destroying it. Stay safe out there, folks!

#again i am not an expert please also do your own research #psa #water safety #flooding #flash floods #death tw #drowning tw #safety tips

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pucksandpower · 1 month

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Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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biglisbonnews · 1 year

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Afghanistan: Humanitarian crisis reversing many gains of the last 20 years Countries: Afghanistan, Iran (Islamic Republic of), Pakistan Source: UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs In 2023, two thirds of Afghanistan’s population will need urgent humanitarian assistance in order to survive as the country enters its second year of crippling economic decline. https://reliefweb.int/report/afghanistan/afghanistan-humanitarian-needs-overview-2023-january-2023

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itsvelyria · 5 months

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"the moment the f1 boys realised you were the one"

Charles Leclerc

being able to cry around you: charles has a bad habit of bottling everything up. it was three months into your relationship when he had a particularly bad race, a stroke of bad luck. he was met with pats on his back and mutters that he would do better. numbness flooding his veins, they did nothing to ease the anxiety in his chest. he met your eyes across the room and watched as you stepped closer. with extended arms, you'd told him to let it out. never once has anyone ever told him that before, and so he had instantly broken down, exhausted from having to hold it all together. there was nothing needed but your presence. he sobs messily into your shoulder and the next morning, he had wished that he'll always have you around.

Carlos Sainz

when he realised you knew him better than he did himself: "how did you know?" were his first words, when he came home one night, only to come face-to-face with a pair of Airpods on the nightstand, addressed to him. he had sorely needed a new pair after losing them on the plane but hadn't had the time to purchase them. "because i know you" was your answer, beaming up at him from the side, where you were preparing dinner. you had missed the deep look in his eyes, rambling on; first his sister's wedding anniversary present in the coat closet, then the watch his father had wanted mended for a while now all fixed. and there it was: that was the moment where carlos finally understood the fluttering in his heart.

Danny Ricciardo

making the best out of life: when you had agreed to go out with danny solely because he made life feel that much brighter, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you. you were always up for anything, the easygoing aura you carried with your being influencing him, especially when he had suggested sharing the singular umbrella left in the store — the unexpected downpour having caught you both off guard. nonetheless, you huddled under the umbrella, both your shoulders getting soaked the second you left the safety of the grocery store shelter. eyes meeting across the umbrella handle, you both break out into chuckles at your plain misfortune. that's when he realised — there was no one else he wanted to be stuck in a bad situation with.

George Russell

inside jokes: it was a small thing, minuscule even, the earliest memory of the joke being one of your first few dates, before you were even official. it was just a simple coincidence that the situation you were called for it. in the group dinner with your mutual friends, george's eyes had shot to yours, searching for the only being who could possibly understand him. and in that flash of a moment when his blue gaze met yours, your bodies had naturally leaned towards their other halves, giggles muffled into your hands. if your friends were surprised at the sudden laughter, he doesnt even notice, too preoccupied with how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight and how fast his heartbeat has gotten.

Lando Norris

shared comfortable silence: your boyfriend loved people, befriending strangers and great conversations. it all came easy to him, possibly due to growing up a middle child, he mirrored a little ray of sunshine. but as much as he adored socialising, lando found that he equally enjoyed quiet time with you, especially on lounge chairs by the beach while you flipped through your book, absolutely taken by the words. lando admired the expression fluttering across your features with each passing page. something strange settled in his tummy as he continued staring, something he could only allude to how peace might feel like. perhaps this is how life was meant to be lived, he thought.

Lewis Hamilton

sharing tattoo meanings: lewis has had a lot of art done on his body over the years and he's proud of all of them; memories and meanings forever part of him. with the orange glow of your nightlight at 3am, he watched as you traced the patterns on his skin, telling you stories and what each of them meant. you had soaked up the words, mesmerised by the deep lull of his voice as he opened up his heart to you. never has anyone been so interested in him as a person, all they wanted to know was his career and business and he appreciated it. to you, he was just a man — someone you wanted to know more about.

Max Verstappen

his pets greeting you: as the provider for his cats, he expected a touch more loyalty from the feline beings. still he remained seated, fixated on how jimmy and sassy nuzzled at your calves, the warmth of their tiny bodies against his legs previously lost. the silence was broken by the sound of grocery bags tossed on the kitchen counter as you stooped down to scratch their fuzzy chins. a light purr emanated from sassy while jimmy rolled over, also meowing in a bid for attention. his heart strangely light, he watched you indulge them like the spoiled brats they were. was it because of how much love was within you or the care you held for the things he held dear? either way, max couldn't tamp down the urge to cross the room and wrap you in his arms, much like you did with his pets now, the three little words in the back of his throat.

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loveindefinitely · 4 months

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

02 — THE NIGHT WE MET

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

Turns out, as much as water is wet, Soap likes to talk.

“Bloody Shadows,” he grunts under his breath. You’d given him your knife, so he could help you take down the men searching the tunnels. Now, after killing one, he’s got a weapon not unlike your own. In one hand, he wipes off the bloody knife on his thigh and slides it into his belt, and in the other, he checks over the stolen gun.

The water soaks your calves, a cloud of blood and a body along with it floating behind you both. Taking another step forward, the water ripples, the weight of it pulling as you continue to move forward, Soap at your flank.

“Your men feckin’ suck at their jobs, lass,” your new companion hisses, low enough not to echo but loud enough to have you rolling your eyes.

“They’re not used to this kind of fighting. It’s not their fault.” You’re not exactly sure why you’re defending them, when you’re decidedly betraying your entire unit, but you feel obligated to anyway.

“Or you’re just a bad Lieutenant.”

You shoot him an annoyed glance. “Wrong. I’m not a Lieutenant, Sergeant.”

You knew of his title because of something Ghost had said earlier, his voice carrying loud enough through the earpiece in the quiet of the shops. It suited him, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, just as the smell of the sea felt like more of a home than any building you’d encountered.

Keeping your head forward, you miss the roll of Soap’s eyes, and the flexing of his hand around the knife at his waist.

“Sorry, Corporal,” he retorts, and you bristle.

“Colonel will do,” you snap back, quickening your pace but keeping your movements quiet as you spot the shadows of your men up ahead. Stretching your hand out, you encourage Soap to pause.

Soap scoffs. “Dinnae think you’re above me.”

You go to continue the petty argument, when –

“Graves has lost his fucking mind over his chick.” A Shadow says around the curved corner, and Soap stops as you do. You see a flash of red, their flashlight, up ahead, and pull Soap’s shirt to stand with you against the wall.

“How much do you bet she’s found out about another girl he’s got goin’ on the side?”

Your chest constricts, and your body feels as though it’s frozen in time. Soap’s hand comes up to remove your grip on his shirt, and you don’t make a single argument or movement against it.

“That, or she’s gone to find another superior to fuck,” the other replies.

Within one moment, and the next, you pull your knife back from the sheath on Soap’s belt, and take a massive, sweeping step to your right.

It’s not a second later that the knife has flung from your fist, and met the neck of one of the gossiping Shadows. Blood spurts out of his neck, and he quickly finds himself falling forwards onto his knees, and then effectively being pulled by the motion of the flood.

“What the –” The other starts, but in one click, you’ve pressed the silencer onto the end of your gun, flicked off the safety and shot a bullet into the back of his head.

Your hands do not tremble. You don’t even make a noise.

Soap does, though, just as the sun is set to rise.

“Christ, lass, that was clean,” he says under his breath, before letting out a low, impressed whistle. “Colonel it is.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you just put your knife back into its rightful spot in your vest, flip on the safety, and continue to wade down the tunnel.

The words of the two Shadows echo in your mind, like your very soul has been hollowed out for the sole purpose of being a cavern of mindless thoughts. You suppose that’s the way of life.

By the time the two of you reach the end juncture of the tunnel, Soap’s killed two more Shadows. You haven’t hurt any since the last few, but it’s a small mercy. You’re not exactly itching to murder your… previous subordinates.

Previous. Past.

Whatever.

“Ghost says the church is just to the right, ‘nd up the stairs,” Soap supplies as the two of you make it to the T-junction. Giving him a small nod, you turn right, finding the said stairs mere metres away.

“It’s going to be rough out there,” you warn with a short glance his way.

He chuckles a humoured sound, surprising you with its warmth. “Aye can handle rough, lass,” he teases, and you’ll forever be grateful for his positive outlook on the situation. Humour was good, when one was going through such… bullshittery.

“What’s the plan after we meet with Ghost?” You ask lowly as you start ascending the brick steps, the dripping of water a debilitating soundtrack.

Soap is just a few steps behind you, his steps just slightly slower due to his injuries and general stress. “Eh, we’ll see. Ghost has probably got a rough idea already,” he admits. He seems to almost worship Ghost, although in a very different way to how you do – did – with Graves. “Lt for a reason, hen.”

“I’m not a chicken,” you snark back, hand resting at the dagger strapped onto your thigh. It’s a familiar habit.

Soap’s laugh, this time, comes out boisterous and almost shocked. It’s a loud, genuine thing, and you can’t find it in yourself to despise it.

“Yer funny for a traitor,” he responds, and your stomach hollows out once more.

Traitor.

That single word – title – rings in your ears like the bombs you’ve set off in past missions. Like a tormenting, cruel ghoul, whispering taunts in your ear. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

You don’t reply as you make it to the inside of a house, the front door seeming to face exactly where the two of you needed to go. Pausing before it, you look to Soap once more, cocking your gun.

“Ready, Sergeant?” You ask, both for his sake, and your own. Your resolve is weak, trembling, almost, but there’s no going back now. Not after this.

Soap lets out his own exhale, before his deep blue eyes meet yours. “Aye, I’m ready.”

You turn.

And you open the door.

“Jesus fuck!” Soap yells out, and your focus is quickly split between his sudden words, and the hilt of a gun crashing into the side of your head.

Falling to the ground with a groan, a bloom of light taunts you in the corner of your shut eyes, your skull pounding with the sudden pain. Bringing a hand up to the source of your ache, you slowly blink your eyes open, watching as your fingers come away with sticky blood coating them.

“I found her! She’s with –”

Looking up, your mouth falls open as a bullet lodges itself into the Shadow’s forehead, and he too, falls to the ground.

Except, unlike you, he would never get up again.

“Was that you, Lt?” Soap calls into his own comms, and he sounds nothing if not impressed. Rising to your knees, you manage to find your way back up to your feet, albeit with shaky movements.

Your vision is slightly skewed, and you feel somewhat out of it as you look outside, and spot the darkened streets once more.

Whatever Ghost responds with makes Soap laugh, but all you can focus on is that the church is so close. You guys could make it – no, you would make it.

And you would convince Graves to stop this, and to continue being the man you thought you knew.

You could fix everything.

“All good?” Soap asks you, then, appearing at your side like a trusted dog. You’re all too aware of how you must look – bewildered and bloody.

“What’re we waiting for?” Is your reply.

Turns out, a lot.

By the time the two of you make it to the steps of the church, there’s enough blood on your hands to make you think that it’ll never come off. Both figuratively, and physically.

“Johnny!”

Breath stilted, head pounding and ears ringing, your weighted gaze sloppily meets that of Simon Riley’s.

You’d never met the guy, never seen him, either. And in person, he’s terrifying in a guttural, instinctual way. All dark-clothed bulk, skull mask dirtied and stark in the eery night. The sniper strapped to his back just adds to his whole image.

“Fuck, Ghost, you’re –” Soap begins, but a bullet just missing his ear has his words silenced.

“We gotta find a way outta here,” Ghost directs, and you nod instinctively. At the movement, his eyes zero-in on your frame – and they narrow. His hands clench around the smaller, more close-range gun in his hands, and his jaw tightens.

Right. You weren’t friends, and you could hardly be called acquaintances.

Enemies, first and foremost.

Swallowing, you flit your gaze back to Soap, inclining your head towards the multitude of vehicles along the street to your left.

“Come on, we’re sitting ducks here. Let’s find a car and go,” you yell over the sound of the harsh pattering of rain, thunder reverberating through your chest. Your eyes maintain a wincing position, hair completely wet and droplets dripping from your face and gear, mascara coating underneath your eyes, and you’re sure, your cheeks.

“The lass is right,” Soap shifts his attention from you to Ghost, “C’mon, Lt.”

Ghost waits another moment, and even with Soap looking at him, his focus remains solely on you. His gaze is hard, cold, full of hatred and distaste.

“Please,” he insists, tone gone pleading and almost desperate.

It’s all Ghost must need, it seems, because he shifts the weight of his gun between his hands once more with a direct nod.

It’s not a moment later that more bullets are shot at the three of you, causing you to instantly find cover and press your back against it, quickly checking that your weapon is loaded. It is, thank the gods, and you quickly peek around the stall of which you’d used as cover and pop a few shots at some Shadows you see lining the streets. A few drop, and more yelling echoes throughout the town.

“There’s a truck with its lights on up ahead!” Ghost’s voice carries over the cacophony of sounds down the street, and you heave out a shaky breath. Turning just enough that you can search for the vehicle he’s talking about, your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes lock onto it.

You figure that the man must be further along the streets than you, so steeling your nerves, you stand up once more and raise your gun.

Soap and Ghost have already made a dent in the soldiers after the lot of you, but you find yourself lodging bullets into quite a few Shadows’ skulls anyways. To be on the other side like this, to kill your men, it’s a kind of pain you’d never even considered that you’d have to experience.

Your chest rises and falls at a concerning rate as you find the truck just a few feet away from you, Soap’s hand gripping the door to the passenger’s side, and Ghost jumping into the driver’s seat.

With one final pull of the trigger, you push Soap into the car, and rush into it right after him, pulling the door shut with an audible slam!

“Drive!” You quickly direct Ghost, pulling up your gun over the back of the seat and aiming it at the Shadows directing their sights to the three of you. “Before they kill us all!”

Ghost jerks, the glass of his window shattering as a bullet flies through, a searing pain bursting through the top of your right cheek. Cursing under your breath, you pull the trigger of your gun, Soap shooting his own at the same time.

With a burst of the accelerator, the truck goes rearing backwards, and your eyes go wide as you watch Ghost reverse into two Shadows, their bodies churning underneath the wheel.

“Fuckin’ hell, Lt!” Soap cries out, and just as he does, Ghost quickly manoeuvres the vehicle into drive. He’s quick about it, and you flinch as he crashes through the wired gate that had previously blocked off the street, the truck lurching with the movement.

With tight swerves, and a few more bullets shot from your guns, both you and Soap finally loosen your postures as you lose the couple of Shadows left behind.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale a deep, meaningful breath.

“You good, hen?”

Blinking away the blurriness of your vision, you jolt when Soap’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing the spot where the pain originates on your cheek. Letting out a small hiss, he immediately pulls away.

“Just a graze, I think,” you bite out, bringing your own shaky fingers to the wound. You can feel where the blood drips from it, along with the blood from your forehead.

“I found some cloth,” Soap pulls out said object, handing you a decently clean strip of tawny fabric. “Will it do?”

With a sharp nod, you take the fabric from his grip, righting yourself to face him properly. Looking down, you unzip one of the compartments on your vest, taking out a small first aid kit.

Soap lets out a low, impressed whistle. “Didn’t realise ye were a medic, lass.”

Despite yourself, and your situation, you can’t help the small tilt of your lips. “I’m a medical professional. Just chose to take lives, rather than save ‘em.”

“Well, ye saved mine today.”

Looking up from where you scavenge through the small kit, your eyes meet his. They’re so blue, and they shine beneath the night lights of Las Almas. Even with his wound, they seem so positive, so joyful and kind.

“And you saved my humanity,” you admit. It’s true, of course – if not for you crashing into him, you had no idea where you’d be right now.

Ghost clears his throat, and you quickly focus back in on your supplies, scurrying through them for the necessary items.

Pulling out a pair of medical scissors, and some cleaning alcohol, you wave for Soap to pull up his sleeve and give you his arm. He does, swearing under his breath as some of the crusted blood pulls away with the fabric of his shirt. His arm is nothing if not muscled, and if it were any other circumstance, any other man, you’d allow yourself a moment to appreciate such pure masculinity.

But this is an enemy, and this is a bullet wound.

“This’ll hurt,” you murmur, checking over the small alcohol bottle in your hand, before looking through the medkit once more. “And you’ve lost a lot of blood. Here.”

Reaching for a small piece of candy, you drop it into his open palm.

His eyes flicker from yours, to the small wrapper in his large hand. He seems to inspect it, for a moment, before his mouth twists into a mocking smirk.

“Sweethearts, aye?”

You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning for reasons other than your wound as you twist off the cap of the bottle in your hands. If you notice Ghost’s attention flit from the road ahead to the two of you, you don’t say a word.

“You need to get your sugars up. It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now,” you explain, refusing to look up at him. “Have one now, this’ll sting.”

He huffs, but undoes the wrapping and pops one of the lollies into his mouth. He hums.

With one hand on his shoulder, you bring up the bottle and drop some of the liquid onto the wound, flushing out any bacteria or infections. Hopefully.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap groans out, teeth clenched and jaw straining as his eyes flutter shut.

“Be careful,” Ghost warns, worry and threat bundled into the two words like a second skin. If you were one to be intimidated, you would take the sentiment seriously, but all you can focus on is the obvious care for his companion.

Very odd, indeed.

“How’s the candy?” You ask, grabbing a sterilising wipe and cleaning up around the wound. Luckily, the bullet had exited – there wouldn’t be a need to go digging in there. That also meant that you had to clean the other side of his arm, however.

Soap’s chuckle comes out strained, but it’s better than silence.

“Delicious, sweetheart.”

You pause your movements, briefly, your chest tightening at the mocking endearment.

“Sweetheart?” You repeat back, your tone a question, before you continue to clean his wounds, albeit with more stilted movements.

“The lollies,” Ghost supplies, and you can’t help but think that he either thinks you’re dumb, or just generally despises you.

Maybe both.

…Definitely both.

“Yer jus’ so sweet, lass,” Soap taunts, before letting out a sound akin to a whimper when you swipe the wipe a bit too close to his wound.

“My bad,” your smile is sickeningly sweet, your tone light and innocent.

Soap’s jaw sets, but silence fills the truck as you make sure that the cloth will properly fit around the wound, getting out a safety pin to keep it around his arm.

It takes a few minutes for you to wrap the makeshift gauze around his skin, the groans of pain from him few and far between. Despite everything, you were a good medic. You’d been trained well, and you had the cadence for it.

Usually.

Fastening the clip through the cloth, you fix it up so it looks presentable enough, and successful for its job.

“All done,” you say softly, hesitant to speak up in the silence of the space.

You go to pack up your supplies, before a hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist, stopping your movements.

Flicking your gaze up to Soap’s, you go to open your mouth to say something, but find yourself at a loss for words. Your eyebrows furrow, and he seems to sense your confusion, because –

“Yer wounds,” he blurts out, wincing at the suddenness of his proposal. “...Yer wounded. Too.”

You can’t stop a shocked, sharp laugh leaving your lips. “I’m very aware of that, yes. Brilliant observation, Sherlock.”

“Let him speak,” Ghost grits out, and Soap’s grip tightens around your wrist. The smell of blood and gunpowder is potent in the night, but you find yourself at ease with the somewhat familiar scent. What’s throwing you off is the sudden add-on of their cologne – somehow, someway, you can smell it. Whether it’s military-duty, or it’s ingrained into their very bones, you haven’t a clue.

You could slap yourself for noticing, for being curious at all.

They smell oddly like cedarwood and musk.

“Let me fix ye up,” Soap supplies, and you can’t do anything but oblige.

Handing him the first aid kit, your fingers brush, and it really, really shouldn’t mean a thing. For the gods’ sake, you’d had your hands all over his upper arm just mere moments ago.

But there’s a spark.

Like a universal truth, maybe. Like a sensation of sudden purpose, as if all this time, all of your life, had led up to this very moment. To this very person.

You pull away sharply, and Soap doesn’t comment on it.

You’ll forever be grateful for that.

“This’ll hurt,” Soap chides, mocking your voice. You fight the urge to slap that smug grin off of his face.

You notice Ghost’s uneasy grip on the steering wheel as he cruises through the city, taking odd turns and slightly too risky manoeuvres. His focus is designated directly to his task, only occasionally checking on Soap.

Fingers underneath your chin force you to look to the Scot at your side, his movement gentle but fingers calloused and weathered. It’s an impossible dichotomy, but one you find yourself relaxing into anyways; the kind of impossible that one starts to think of as home.

Yet, your home is far from here.

Your home is in Graves’ quarters. At the Shadows’ base.

It’s difficult to suppress the groan when Soap brushes the alcohol wipe against your cheek, but biting down on your lower lip does the job. If anything, it makes you focus on the sharp pain of that, rather than the graze on your cheek.

The trick lasts a few minutes, before Ghost goes over a particularly rough bump, causing the wipe to dig into your open wound. Your head falls forward, a soft grunt falling from your lips at the burst of pain.

“Aye, lass, ‘s alright,” Soap soothes, but it does little for your growing embarrassment.

You shoot your glare his way, settling back further into your seat. “Thanks, but that’s enough for now.”

Soap’s expression betrays his inner turmoil, but you turn, looking out of the window.

The darkness and rain battle along the forested roads, and it’s only now that you realise you’ve left the city. And, also, that you have no idea what’s happening, or where the fuck you’re even going.

“What’s the plan?” You ask steadily, falsifying your growing apprehension.

“A safehouse,” Ghost grunts the reply, and you already know that that’s all you’re going to get from him for now. Letting out a small huff, you fold your arms over your chest, resolutely not looking at Soap.

If you did, you’d see him personifying a kicked puppy.

Silence falls, once again, over the three of you. It allows for you to think, both over the storm brewing both outside, and in your head.

You weren’t sure how long it would take Graves to realise that you betrayed him, if he would believe it at all. Somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him to say that this is all an elaborate kidnapping, but you figure he must have bigger problems to deal with than you going missing right now.

Then, there was the issue of alliances. Ghost hadn’t exactly agreed to working with you, and he definitely showed no signs of being anything but cold towards you. And, even then, could you really kill your – whatever Graves was – if it came down to it?

And what was to happen next? After everything was said and done? Would the 141 allow you to work with them?

Would you want to?

“We’re here.”

Pulling the handbrake, the truck stops, and you see that Ghost has pulled up outside a safehouse of some sort, in the outskirts of Las Almas.

You go to get out, but you realise that your door’s remained locked – and when you turn to question Ghost, you soon gather that it’s a purposeful move.

Ghost’s eyes narrow on you, calculating and assessing, before he says, voice like a gunshot in the quiet of the night –

“Give me a reason not to kill you right now, 'nd we might let you live.”

You swallow around the desert that your mouth’s become, and with shaky words, you respond.

a/n. first post of 2024!! i hope everyone enjoys, and if u did, please comment, reblog and follow!! mwah mwah

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias

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scudslut · 2 months

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Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

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tornadoquest · 2 months

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Tornado Quest Top Science Links For March 9 - 16, 2024 #science #weather #climate #climatechange #severeweather #tornado #drought #astronomy

Photo by Marek Piwnicki Greetings everyone. Thanks so much for stopping by. This has been an active week for severe weather across the USA with Thursday being the most active day. Our annual review of severe weather continues this week with a look at tornado safety. There are several other interesting science reads and the latest US Drought Monitor update, so let’s get started. Tornado Quest…

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http-tokki · 6 months

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my fucking elbow!

~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: fluff, explicit language, established relationships, canonverse. ~wc: 530

The piercing howl that rips from your throat has Levi jumping into action. Springing over his desk and across the small office, he is in the dim kitchenette a second after the cry left you. He pants as he searches for you, eyes frantically darting around the room, heartbeat quickening with each passing second until he spots you crumpled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, fingers gripping your elbows.

"What's happening, why are you? What's wrong?" The words spill out of him, an unfiltered stream of concern flowing between his lips.

Levi reaches you, dropping to his knees on the hard tile and grips your shoulders. He tears you upright, panic flooding his bloodstream in a cold flash. Tears line your eyes, eyebrows furrowed in pain, and teeth gritted as you hiss.

"My fucking elbow."

Levi blinks slowly, pulling away from you as the realisation sets in.

"I hit my elbow, and it really hurts." You're crying now, fat tears spilling over your cheeks as you rub your aching joint.

Levi sits back on his haunches, a smile cracking at the absurdity. You, a decorated war hero and veteran, had just screamed and carried on as if you had been fatally wounded. He had seen you rip an arrow from your thigh, patch together your slashed arm, reposition your dislocated knee without so much as a cry, and now a knock to your elbow had you seizing up and crying?!

"Stop laughing! It hurts!" you whine, weakly kicking at your laughing husband.

"I'm not laughing at you; it's just the situation," he explains, pushing your hair back from your face. "I've seen your experience worse, and this is the injury that brings you down?" it is impossible to keep the laughter from infiltrating his every word. "I'm sorry. Are you okay, my love?"

You sniff and turn away from him, still cradling your arms and sigh loudly. "You're so mean. I hope you hurt your elbow, and when you cry about this, I'll laugh at you, too!" A giggle slips through your offended facade.

Levi stands, knees popping and aching at the move against gravity and snorts at your dramatics. "I'm going to be so careful now to not hit my elbow, and you'll never get to laugh at me!"

The exchange is childish, but it feels good; it feels natural to laugh and tease in light of the world around you. These moments are few and far between, but when they do happen, you are grateful to see a side of your lover you rarely do these days. You watch as Levi turns away, walking back into his office to finish the work he had abandoned in favour of your safety, and once he is out of sight, you turn your attention back to your bruised arm. The tingling and pain have subsided, a small purple bloom, the only remnant of the torture your nervous system was under not two seconds ago; you poke the small mark to test the level of pain you would feel if you were to hit it again but are interrupted by Levi's scream from the room over.

"I just stubbed my fucking toe!"

a/n: i got to see my baby again for one last time ahhhh I lub him s much I wanna cry please levi become real and let me love you

#attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader fluff #levi x reder #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader drabble #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi ackerman imagine #aot x reader #aot fluff #aot imagine #levi ackerman drabble

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charlessainzz · 2 months

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can do like reader with charles getting quite a few feature on dts here and there moments. thank you! i don't really like dts but I love the ferrari bits!!

My first request! Thank you for requesting this, it was fun to write! I hope it’s good!

Drive to Survive’s Newest Star is… Not a Driver??

Take One:

Cameras were everywhere. It was another Drive to Survive filming day. These days always made you nervous. More cameras than usual, more eyes than usual, and more opinions than usual. Luckily you were feeling good. You were decked out in head to toe Ferrari merch. White lace cami, vintage red leather Marlboro pants, red peep toe Manolos, with a number 16 cap. You looked the part of a die hard Ferrari fan. More importantly you looked the part of a die hard Charles Leclerc fan. And you were. His wonderful, supportive girlfriend of 2 years. His biggest fan.

You felt the camera pan to you as Charles made his way through the garage you. He had just finished FP1 and well lets just say it wasn’t looking great… He needed you now and Charles could care less if the DTS cameras were watching. Your eyes light up as you see him getting closer to you. He grabs your waist and nudges your nose with his.

“Hi,” you squeak, anticipating a kiss.

“Hey..”, he whispers. “That was pretty bad wasn’t it”.

“Mmhmmm car looks pretty rubbish”, you giggle. “But that driver…. He’s pretty great. Makes a worthless car worth driving”, you say as you give him a peck.

You both embrace in a tight hug and another kiss. Feeling the cameras rolling and hearing the photographers clicking away, you both start laughing. Oh this will be Netflix gold.

Take Two:

Rain in October and in Austin, Texas. What are the odds! A usual dry race with an unrelenting sun had turned into a gray, storm filled race. The track was almost flooded. The radios of drivers shooting off justifiably angry that the race hadn’t been red flagged yet. The DTS cameras were here of course. Another perfect scene for them, they’d definitely be getting the footage they wanted.

Your hands enclosed in a prayer, begging for the officials to do something. To call for a pause, to cancel! There was no way the race could continue like this. Visibility is almost next to zero. You intensely listen to the radio, checking for Charles’s voice. He’s mad, he can’t see, and he’s ready to get out of the car.

You’re watching the screen as the cars begin to slow around a turn, you see Charles and Pierre bump sending Charles off the track. It was all in slow motion. His car and your reaction moving at the speed of molasses. While the bump seemed minor, there were more cars headed his way. That’s what scared you. Just as that thought enters your mind, Checo’s car shoots down the track and narrowly misses Charles sending water crashing into him. You let out a shriek and cover your face crouching to the ground. The cameras all turn to you, documenting your reaction. You peek through your fingers seeing everyone staring and the lens facing you. At first you feel embarrassed but then you remember, that’s your man! You stand back up, straightening your posture, and brushing your hair off your shoulder. Arthur envelops you in a hug and points to the screen.

Charles is being rescued by the emergency crew and he’s making his way back to you. He’s coming back to the safety of the garage and the safety of your arms. The DTS cameras know what’s coming next, and they stay on you waiting for the paddock’s favorite couple to reunite.

Take Three:

Silverstone was always packed. But this year felt different. The crowd looked like sardines packed into a tin can. No room to move or even breathe.

Charles held open the car door for you and grabbed your hand. He knew you didn’t love these crowds. He held your hand tight as you walked into the paddock. Cameras flashing, fans screaming, and DTS film crews lurking. You and Charles had one mission. Get to the Ferrari building as fast as possible.

Hands stuck like glue, you’re both practically running through the paddock. Of course, Charles being the man he is, has to stop and take pictures. But this leads to more attention and bigger crowds. You don’t mind, you know they love him. He deserves the love. Yet, the crowd becomes more…. pushy, more desperate for a glimpse at the Ferrari man.

As he takes the millionth picture, you feel someone clench your arm and rip you from Charles. Letting out a scream, you fall into the ocean of the crowd. A man, desperate to get a picture, had done the unthinkable. He put his hands on you. Charles felt you instantly leave his presence. He snaps around grabbing your hand once more, and focuses his attention at the man.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”, Charles growls with a finger in the man's face. That’s when you notice a boom mic over you capturing every second of this interaction. You let out a groan knowing that this will probably be in an episode. But hey! Your man was protecting you!

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you both rush through the crowd heading towards the Ferrari hospitality. To the safety of your second home. Fans still hot on your tails screaming, “Leclerc! Y/n! Wait!”. Unknown to you both, DTS cameras are right behind you. Capturing the knight in shining armor protecting his princess. After what felt like a marathon, you see the Ferrari crew waiting at the entrance to welcome you in. Like deer leaping through a field, you both jump through the front doors. Doors closing, the cameras catch you both hunched over trying to catch your breath still clinging to each other. Like a wildlife documentary they sit at the door documenting two creatures that had just escaped a near death experience.

After taking that moment to pause, you turn and see cameras pressed against the door recording you and Charles. You can’t help but let out a big belly laugh tapping him on the shoulder to look. Charles sees, grabs your hand, and flips off the camera pulling you towards his room.

This episode will definitely be talked about!

Take Four:

He takes the checkered flag! Charles Leclerc wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix!

The whole garage erupts into celebration. Charles wins! Carlos in 2nd. It’s a 1-2 result for the Ferrari team. What more could Fred have asked for. The whole garage runs towards the podium, awaiting their boys. You take off running towards the barrier followed by a film crew of course. Unsurprising to anyone, the Drive to Survive team is here to capture the lavish race that is Vegas.

The podium waiting area is front to back red. You want to see him, you need to see him. But how can you get to the front? Not wanting to be rude, you tap shoulders and whisper ‘excuse mes’. As people turn ready to shout at the person cutting through, they recognize you. With sheepish smiles they usher you through to the front. Cameras following, but you could care less.

Finally, you're at the front waiting for the drivers to exit the cars. Barriers crushing your ribs, you can feel your heart ready to leap out of your chest in anticipation. Then there he is! He leaps out of the car and throws his hands up. He points to the sky, and then points to the team. Jumping down he sprints to the Ferrari team ready to welcome back their champion. He leaps into the arms of the first team members he sees. Everyone reaching to touch him, to congratulate him, to get a glimpse of their driver. He scans the front row looking for you. He knew you’d be there but where are you? As he takes off his helmet he sees you. Tears have stained your cheeks and hair a mess from running.

Charles jumps to you and grabs your face. Hands over your jaw, he brings your lips together. The kiss says everything and more. Cameras push in closer and closer as you continue kissing your driver. You break apart and laugh knowing what they’re capturing. Charles looks you in the eyes and says, “Another kiss for the winner?”.

“Always”, you beam and bring him back into you. Charles takes a hand and pushes the lens away from you both. Trying to get some privacy in the most public situation ever. The film crew lets up knowing they just got their shot. They just got the money shot of their number one F1 driver and Drive to Survive’s newest star… who’s not a driver. Who would’ve thought!

#request #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 x y/n

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reidmotif · 4 months

Text

Regret on the Rocks

Summary: Spencer finds himself at a bar being served by the girl who once broke his heart. Turns out she feels a lot more than just regret for letting him go.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light Angst/Smut

Content Warning: drinking, Spencer is a little depressed, mentions of heavy bullying (specifically 3x16), car sex, female masturbation, Spencer POV, heavy kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Regret is an emotion I’m well accustomed to. It’s not to mean that I’m unhappy with my life by any means, but I’m aware of the space between my current situation and the ‘beyond’ that could’ve been if things had just been different.

If I’d never joined the BAU.

If I’d had a more conventional life in the first place.

If connection came to me as easy as it seemed to other people my age.

But none of those things seemed to ring true, so I carried regret in me like a bruise of honor. Despite the regret, I faced it every day and lived to do it all over again in the morning. It didn’t mean it was easy, and today proved that. Today, it was hard going to sleep knowing I’d wake up to do it all over again.

In light of this, I’d found myself in a bar, alone. The case we’d been working on saw little to no fruition despite our efforts, and it’d resulted in another body we couldn’t save. Another person I was responsible for. It weighed down on me more than I cared to admit.

I found myself continually lost in my thoughts, navigating through the carefully weaved web of guilt and self-doubt, spiraling, until a much softer, surprised voice pulled me out.

“Spencer Reid? Is that you?” She asks. I hear her voice before I see her, and I know that it’s the bartender stood behind the bar, and there’s confusion as I wonder who could’ve possibly recognized me in a rundown small-town bar.

I look up and meet her eyes, and it’s as if a flood of memories ensues. A flash of recognition crosses my face, and seeing the images playing in my head, almost akin to a film reel, slowly walking me through one of my earliest regrets.

I was 15, navigating my senior year while being the youngest one there. Despite the oddness of my situation, it never crossed my mind that I shouldn’t have tried so hard to participate in the same social events as my peers. With the hindsight of adulthood, I now imagine that if I had withdrawn, spent more of my time alone than trying to not be, the hurt of never being accepted would sting less, because I’d never had tried in the first place.

But I had tried, and she was the only one who got me. She was older, yes, and beautiful and popular, but those didn’t matter half as much as the conversations we’d manage to have. She never seemed to take offense to any ramble of mine, and I’d feel my heart soar when she’d ask questions after my monologues, sending me the clearest signals of interest in what I had to say.

And as a lonely 15 year old? It meant the absolute world to have that. To have her as my friend.

And so, when it came time for senior prom, in the interest of at least trying to fit in, I asked her to go with me. As friends of course, but even then she shook her head, and ruefully told me someone else had asked her. I vaguely recalled the name she’d given me off of a football roster I’d once read while attending the school, and nodded. I understood. I was prepared for the rejection, in fact I’d already taken it the moment she said no. I was prepared to live with it.

Then came the week before prom. Being lured away from the safety of the campus, and onto a football field. Being tied to a flagpole, while everyone watched- and laughed. I remember seeing a face, his face, knowing he was the one who was taking her. Taking (Y/N) to the prom.

I rarely dwell on the events of that day, but I do remember the regret. I remember wondering that if I’d just never spoken to her, I’d maybe have been less of a target. I wondered if maybe I’d never asked her in the first place, maybe our friendship could’ve survived the whole ordeal, but it hadn’t. She never spoke to me after that, her head hanging low as she continued to hang off of his arm, never sparing me another glance again.

But here she was, glancing- no, staring at me, her eyes wide.

“What are you doing here? Are you.. Did you always live here all along?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft and mellow. She was loud back in high school, I remember. She had the best laugh I’d ever known.

It takes me a second, but I give her a flat smile, setting my glass down. “I’m here for a case, actually.”

“A case..?” She says, her head tilting a bit in confusion.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah, a case. I’m an FBI agent. I’m here for a recent string of murders being committed in the area.”

“Wow, FBI, huh? I never thought of you as law enforcement.” She says, her eyebrows raising. “Always thought you were going to change the world with that brain of yours.” She adds, a small smile on her face. My eyes narrow in distrust at the sudden compliment, unsure of her intentions.

“I’d say I’m changing the world.” I respond, a little defensively. “I like my job. I like that I change lives by not letting them end.”

She immediately retracts her statement, vehemently shaking her head. “No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, of course you’re changing the world- I just thought you’d be doing more. Okay- not more. I just- Gah. I swear, don’t take it the wrong way.” She pauses, before gesturing to herself. “I mean, I have no room to talk.” She says, the words a little rushed and frantic.

“What do you mean, no room to talk?” I ask, squinting in genuine confusion.

“I mean, I work as a bartender. I don’t know what I want from life, but it’s certainly not this.” She says, motioning to the shelves of drinks behind her, a little defeated.

She’s so different from when I knew her. Self-assured. Confident. She seemed almost meek in this environment, and the only recognition of the girl I knew came from the small, embarrassed smile she gave me.

“Well. We’re a lot more alike than you think, then. Titles mean nothing.” I say, voice a bit quieter. “I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of, though. We’re just getting through life the best we can, right?”

She nods a little, seeming to take comfort in my statement. “Look at you. You’ve still got the same sweetness in you from high school.”

Stiffening at the mention of high school, I just nod and taking another sip from the glass in front of me, which was starting to empty out. “Not trying to be sweet, I think. Just honest.” I say, bluntly.

It’s mean, I’m aware. I can feel her trying, but I don’t want to offer her the same. I want her to feel awkward. I want her to know what she did was wrong.

There’s a silence that passes through the two of us, before she breaks it with a continued gesture of kindness, turning around to fill another glass with my drink of choice and setting it down in front of me, a small smile playing on her lips.

“For being honest then. Thank you.” She says, and her eyes meet with mine. I almost hear the unspoken apology in her voice, in the way her fingers slowly push the chilled glass towards my empty hand, in the way she bites her lip softly, waiting to see what I’d say.

“To being honest.” I say, raising the glass slightly and downing the drink a little faster than I intended, not wanting to think too much about the implications of the gesture. To know that she possibly had regrets too. That she might still have the goodness I once knew in her.

“I have about half an hour left in my shift, but if it’s alright, I’d love to catch up properly.” She says, keeping her gaze trained on mine. “I’ve.. missed you.” She says, her voice soft.

I don’t respond to her last statement, but I can’t deny the magnetic pull begging me to say yes to her request, to at least see where our lives had gone after our separation. So I nod, silently.

“I’ll be here.”

I try to lay off the drinks for the next thirty minutes, opting to sip some water instead to clear my mind in preparation for the time I’d be spending with her. Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have accepted the invite at all. It wasn’t that I forgave her per say, but the curiosity to know her all over again was overwhelming, regardless of the pain she’d caused me. I’m once again reminded why “curiosity killed the cat” is such an overused aphorism.

She comes up to me thirty-six minutes later, and I hate myself for keeping track. She flashes me a small smile.

“You waited.” She says, softly.

“I said I would, right?” I respond, unsure why that would mean anything to her. I agreed to this. I wanted this, even if I could physically feel the inner turmoil brewing throughout my body. I suppose it didn’t show though, because she continued on, smiling.

“There’s an ice cream place I like around here. Would you like to go?” She asks, and I see her teeth catch onto her bottom lip, the plumpness of the feature being exacerbated by the action, causing me to momentarily lose my train of thought.

“Uh. Yeah, ice cream. Sounds good.” I say, placing my hands in my pockets.

“Did you drive here? I mean- I hope not. You drank quite a bit.” She says, starting to walk to the exit of the bar.

“No, no. My hotel is actually right here. I walked. Needed to get my mind off some things and I ended up here since it was convenient.” I say, and I feel myself falling back into that comfortable rhythm of just being able to speak freely around her.

It’s like no time has passed at all, and yet I’m acutely aware that nothing is the same. That we’re avoiding a bigger issue at hand.

“Yeah.” She murmurs. “The murders around here have been grisly, haven’t they?” She says, starting to lead me to her car. “I get nervous when I hear about that stuff, so I find myself looking away from the news more often than not.” She continues, quirking her mouth to the other side, as if she’s aware this isn’t the best course of action, but does it anyway.

“It’s cute.” I think.

I push the thought away.

“Understandable.” I reply, nodding. “I don’t watch the news either. I mean- I do read the news. But I don’t watch it.”

She starts the car, and I observe a hint of a grin on her face, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that makes my heart jump. “So you still like to read then?” She says, seeming genuinely happy I’d kept up the habit even after my youth.

“Oh yeah. I mean, reading isn’t something I really ever let go of. It’s a good activity when you’re out on the road so much.” I say, feeling solace in talking about something I truly loved. “Sometimes I feel like books provide me with better stimuli than social interaction.” I continue, unaware of the implications of my words, and I only realize once I’ve seen her raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I mean. Friends are good too, right?” She says, a hint of concern making her way into her voice.

I chuckle a little bitterly. “Probably. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I have my team, and I’m grateful but-” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. It doesn’t come to me like that, you know? And I’m not bothered by it, but I don’t like to think about it.” I say. There’s a faint feeling of heat on my face from the honesty, but I continue to stare straight ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to my words.

“You were a good friend to me, Spencer. Better than a lot of the friends I had in high school, and I’m not just saying that.” She says, softly.

I respond without thinking, shaking my head with an embittered motion and a click of my tongue.

“Yeah, and look where that got me.”

She’s a little silent then, and I refuse to say anything else. She’s the one who invited me here. I don’t know what she wanted out of this, but I wasn’t going to forego my own feelings just to spare hers. I was here. That was enough. I was allowed to say that.

We pull into an empty parking lot, where I see the neon lights advertising an ice cream parlor, but we don’t get out. She turns off the headlights and blows a bit of air between her lips, placing her hands in her lap and turning towards me.

“Spencer.” She murmurs, swallowing a bit. “I am so, so sorry for what I did in high school. I know I wasn’t there when.. You know when. And I know I didn’t speak to you afterwards, and I am so sorry.” She repeats. “I hope you believe me when I say I really did miss you. I was such an idiot back in high school, and nothing can repair that, but I missed you so much.” She says.

I turn to her and can see the tears welling up in her eyes and feel my heart soften. It’s insane, the effect she can have on me, even years later.

“Hey, don’t cry.” I say, immediately reaching over to wipe a tear from her cheek, my thumb swiping over the expanse of her smooth skin. “It’s just high school. It’s a long time ago.”

“No.” She says, emphatically, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me. What I did was awful. It doesn’t matter if it was long ago. You can call me a bitch. You can- scream or hell! I don’t know. You can be angry at me. You should be angry at me. I could never say sorry enough.” She says.

I shake my head, all the previous resentment and bitterness dissipating instantly. It was a bit odd, feeling the emotions I’d long held onto even years after our fracture go away so quickly, but she was my friend. For what it had been worth, she had been good to me. And right now, she was my friend, crying in a car, and the guilt and shame couldn’t be more obvious.

I move to hold her hand, wanting to comfort her, rubbing small circles into the skin near her thumb, her fingers grasping over mine, almost afraid to let me go now.

“You’re right, in a way. What you did confused me and left me feeling really.. lonely. But now that I’m older I think I better understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact you hurt me.” I reply, and I see her jaw tighten, nodding and taking my words to heart.

“But I don’t think I resent you anymore for what happened.” I continue, the words tumbling out. “Seeing you guilty and ashamed so many years later is just making me wish we’d talked earlier, so we wouldn’t have had to feel this way for so long. Maybe we could’ve.. I don’t know. Picked up where we left off.”

She gives me a flat smile, tears still in her eyes. “Yeah? I’d have liked that.” She murmurs.

“I mean it.” I say, flashing her a soft smile. I decided to lighten the conversation for her comfort.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t call you an idiot for dating that prick though.” I respond, a little teasingly, hoping to get a bigger smile out of her.

“Oh god.” She says, leaning back, laughing a bit. “Please do. God, he was so .. awful.” She says. “He wasn’t half as funny as you. Just.. boring honestly.”

I smirk a little at the words, feeling a bit of pride but brushing it off with a shrug. “I mean, it's a cliche right? Beautiful, smart girl with the boring jock?” I say. “You and like, 6 out of 10 high school girls probably fall directly into that category.”

She gives me a laugh at that one, a real one, and my heart soars upon the sound alone. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her.

“6 out of 10? Where’s that statistic from? High School Girls Anonymous?” She responds, matching my energy and continuing the banter.

“Just trust me. I know these things very well.” I say, trying my best to sound as faux academic as possible, hoping to make her feel at ease, to fully let go of the tension from before.

“Well, then.” She says, softly, turning the conversation to be a bit more sincere. “I’m glad I don’t fall into that cliche anymore. I’m glad my taste changed.”

I nod, surprisingly relaxing into the vulnerability of the words. “Yeah, it happens. Tastes do change throughout life, especially post-adolescence. One could denote it to the development of the prefrontal cortex, but I like to say it’s out of knowing what you want out of life.”

“Have yours? I mean, your tastes. Have they changed?” She asks, her eyes boring into mine, and I realize that my hand is still holding hers.

I lick my lips and shrug. “Here and there. For the most part, yes, but I find myself clinging to certain aspects of my teenage self.” I respond, vaguely.

She continues to look at me, nodding. “Mine have. For sure.” “How so?” I ask, my heart speedingbup.

“I think I learned to like sweeter guys.” She says, softly. “Ones that don’t bore me entirely, and ones I actually want to spend time with. Maybe that’s a cliche in itself but..” She shrugs, ending off her sentence there.

I nod, wondering where this was leading. Her eyes were trained on mine and I could feel my pulse quickening. Was she going to kiss me? Was I going to kiss her? Was I crazy for thinking that at all? What was happening here?

“You said you still have certain aspects of your teenage self in your tastes.” She says suddenly, her face moving a bit closer to mine. “What did you mean by that?”

I sigh, taking in the features of her face, and how they seem to be illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows of her car. She was so stunning, even now. Even after all these years, I couldn’t deny she’d only grown to be more beautiful.

I lick my lips and nod. “I guess I just meant.. I still find you just as beautiful as I did back when I first knew you. Even moreso now, honestly.” I say, quietly.

I can feel her breath hitch, and her own tongue darting out to wet her lips, mirroring my actions. Her gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips, and back to my lips again, and I’m extremely aware of what I want at this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my hand still in hers, studying her with a careful gaze.

She nods almost immediately, and at the same time, we surge forward to meet the other’s lips, her hands immediately cupping my cheek and my hands moving to her waist. I hear the click of her seatbelt being unfastened, and suddenly she’s in the passenger seat with me, straddling my waist and continuing to keep her lips locked firmly on mine.

It’s like I can’t get enough of her, my hands exploring her back, eventually lowering them to squeeze her ass, which elicits a low moan from her. I pull back a little, panting and see her eyes blown out with lust, causing me to groan from just how deep my desire for her ran in this moment. I let one of my hands to run over her bottom lip, pulling it down and letting it bounce back up, enamored by just how close she was.

“Fuck.” I murmur, unable to contain my awe at her and without wasting a moment, she’s grabbing my hair roughly to pull me back in again to meet her mouth with mine. When given the opportunity from another soft moan from her, I immediately slip my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the way she grabs my collar and presses her body against mine, matching my enthusiasm one for one.

It felt so good to be wanted by her.

She starts to whimper at the intensity of our prolonged contact, and the sound activates something primal in me. It was almost as if once I heard it, I couldn’t go back. Pulling myself back from the kiss, I start to trail my lips up and down her neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in my wake while she writhed in my lap, her fingers tugging on my hair in desperation. I played with the motion for a bit, testing out certain points on her, before finding that she’d moan loudest at a pulse point at the junction in which her jawline met her neck. I sucked on the spot, being sure to leave a large, dark mark.

I didn’t care what would happen after this night, but for right now, she was mine, and I intended to treat her as such.

“You said your hotel room was nearby, right?” She pants, starting to move her thighs off mine. “We can go and-”

I immediately wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me with a force that surprised even me, before gripping her hair and placing my mouth near the shell of her ear. I can hear her squeak at the motion, but her legs relax back into straddling mine.

“I want you now.” I whisper, my voice hoarse and low. “We can go, if you’d like but- I need you now. I can’t stress that enough.”

She melts in my arms as I say that, and a grin comes upon my face from the desire she was displaying as well. She nods quickly, before moving her fingers to my belt, and just upon hearing the sounds of the hardware moving, my head involuntarily falls back because- holy fuck. Feeling her so close to where my pants were now currently constricted nearly had me finishing right there. I could barely look at her without feeling overwhelmed. I feel my cock being pulled from my briefs, and I let out a moan.

I look at her again, and she’s the picture of lust. Her pupils are dilated and her hair is messy, and her mouth slightly agape. She’s everything I want right now. All I want.

“You’re so big.” She mumbles, leaning back, her hand wrapped around me, beginning to stroke me in a gentle, rhythmic motion.

“Yeah?” I murmur back, breathing in sharply when her thumb runs over my slit, feeling the precum already dripping down my shaft. Even her hand is making me question if I’ll finish right here before ever getting to be inside her.

“Yeah.” She whispers, almost breathlessly.

“You can take it.” I say, looking at her, and the girl looks like she’s about to moan off of my words alone. She licks her lips before responding, her voice a bit higher than before.

“I don’t have a condom- but I’m clean and-”

“Yes.” I respond immediately and she moves quickly. My fingers, as if possessed, move to unbutton her dress a bit, letting her breasts spill out (to my delight). The urge to strip her bare for me crosses my mind, but then I’m acutely aware that we were in her car, and the risk of being caught was far too high for the pleasantries I wished to indulge her and myself in, and I find myself slightly wishing we had gone to the hotel room. Next time.

Before I get too caught up in the fantasy of possibly ever fucking her again, I see her reach under her dress, presumably to move her panties aside and groan at the thought. My hands roam over her body to find her hips, slowly guiding her onto my cock, her walls squeezing around me tightly as her hips met mine.

Her moans were sweet, but I found my hand covering her mouth quickly, watching as her eyes shone with pleasure with just the slightest movement from either of us.

“Need you to stay quiet, pretty girl.” I murmur. “You can do that for me, right?”

She nods, eager to please, and I keep my hand on her mouth for a moment too long as I watch her eyes flutter shut, then open, her hands wrapping around my neck to stabilize herself. She starts moving then, lifting off until my tip is the only thing inside of her, before slamming against me, creating the best type of friction for both of us, causing there to be desperation for more. My hands rush down to grip her waist, and I can barely stifle my own noises from how fucking good she feels.

It’s a frenzy after that, and I match her movements with thrusts from below. I know it’s enjoyable for her, based on how hard she’s trying to not make a single sound, but still lets out the tiniest little whimpers and gasps when my cock grinds against her spot, and from the way her thighs shake every single time I disappear deep into her, a small bulge forming in her lower stomach every time I pushed into her. Every clench and squeeze of her cunt drives me insane, and I can’t help the low groan slipping out of me.

Her movements get erratic, signaling her end, and I grin at how quickly I managed to get her there. My fingers move to stroke her clit in circular motions, savoring the way I could hear her whisper my name, grinding down on my dick and chasing the feeling of my fingers on her.

“Close?” I mumble, biting down on her shoulder lightly, which causes a louder moan to slip out of her.

“Yes. Yes.” She whispers, breathlessly. “Please, Spencer. Oh god. Please.”

I jut into her more rapidly, continuing the motions against her, before her walls tighten and squeeze around me, and her cunt flooding the base of my cock. I continue to move like a man possessed, swallowing the moans of her orgasm with a messy kiss, before finally, I reach my release as well, coating her walls from the inside out.

She pants for a second, collapsing against my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, and I stroke her hair, attempting to do the same. She moans softly, her hands wrapped around me as her eyes flutter open and shut.

“I was wrong.” She mumbles, nuzzling into my shoulder, kissing it softly. I’m unsure about the meaning of the words, so I quietly ask her.

“What about?”

“You’re incredibly different from when we were in high school.” She says, softly.

“Good or bad different? I ask, a little self consciously, which is amusing considering I’m still inside her.

“Good. Really, really fucking good.” She clarifies, quickly, with a dazed smile. I lean in, kissing her a bit more softly now, letting my lips languidly trace over hers.

“You too.” I murmur, and I can feel her smile against my lips.

No regrets about this one.

WOAHHH. oh em gee. a fic! so so so deeply sorry i didn't live upto posting more fics this december and january, but i swear i'm gonna keep trying to at least get two out a month. valentines day is coming up, so you already know i'm gonna try and write something fluffy and cute for that, so look out for that. as usual, thank you so so much for any and all continued support. it seriously means the world to me and i cannot say that enough <3 i hope this fic was enjoyable. like, reblog, comment, whatever <3 just ty for reading!! <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #dr spencer reid

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

Note

Geto or Gojo being mean asf in bed😍

Anon, I love you.

Action’s and Consequences!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB Y/N

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, alcohol consumption, language, rough sex, fighting, Mean!Suguru 🥵

Summary: The morning after a terrible night at the club starts with you and Suguru’s first major fight. A fight that Suguru will make sure you never forget.

“Oh my god! Give me a fucking break!” You yelled behind you as Geto stormed after you. “I made a stupid mistake!”

Geto scoffed, grabbing your arm and hauling you back. “A simple mistake?! You call letting some guy buy you a drink without watching him a simple mistake!? Y/N, he fucking slipped you something!!” You winced, partially from your hangover, and the other half was due to the lack of food in your stomach.

“I was talking to his friend! Just like you were letting THAT skank rub up against you!”

This was the nastiest fight you and Suguru had ever gotten into. You both went out with Satoru and Shoko to a new club. There had been shots involved, lots of shots. And you had been having fun until you spotted a girl rubbing her hand against your boyfriend’s chest, and he just let it happen. So, in retaliation, you started talking to some guy who bought you a drink that just so happened to be laced with something.

If it hadn't been for Satoru, who hates alcohol, the guy would have snuck you to the back. Instead, Satoru rubbed your back while you were in the hall puking your guts out, getting whatever the dick slipped you out of your system. Geto was livid, mainly at the asshole who hurt you.

But he was also mad at you.

The morning had come, and it was not a peaceful morning. It had been a yelling match since you woke up to find Suguru watching you, telling you you needed to talk about what happened. All of this started with him! He let that random bitch touch him. Yet he wanted to blame you!

“You are such a fucking brat!” He snapped, grabbing his jacket. “If you had stopped and watched me, I pulled away the second that girl touched me! All you saw in your drunken haze was a second!” Your nose burned as tears flooded your eyes. “Oh, but you should know how a second works! Because all it took was a second for some guy to drug you!!”

“Geto, I'm not playing your fucking game!!”

“Fine by fuckin’ me!”

Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door in his wake. You screamed in frustration, heading to the bathroom to cool off. Stupid Geto, stupid skank, stupid club! Last night sucked, and today sucked even more.

You wanted to stay angry, to boil with rage. But as you stood in the shower, the hot water running over you, your mind cleared. You didn't watch Suguru when the girl touched him. It happened in a flash. The alcohol made it worse than it was. While the anger consumed you, you made a stupid decision and didn't focus on your safety. You had put yourself in a terrible situation.

It could have turned out worse if Satoru hadn't been watching you as the forever DD.

Thinking back, you grimaced at thinking about what Suguru had gone through. To have his loving girlfriend fine and dandy, and the next she's vomiting a laced drink up? He had every right to be worried and upset when you had nothing to be angry about.

Suguru brought you home, gave you water, and held your head back when you got sick. And the first thing you did was yell at him? All because he wanted to talk (like an adult) about what happened.

God, was this what it felt like to be in the dog house?

After your shower, you got dressed, trying to call your boyfriend. Each attempt went straight to voicemail, and your texts were left on read. Your little fights didn't even count as fights! This was uncharted territory. Because you had never pissed Suguru off like this.

An hour and a half later, the door opens to the apartment, and you run for the door. Suguru places two cups of coffee on the table and a sack from the convenience store. He says nothing as he chucks his jacket off, draping it over the couch.

You swallow hard, stepping towards him. “S-Sugu is that coffee for me.” All you get is a nod. “I uhm, thank you.” Another nod. God, you hated the cold shoulder! You didn't want to keep fighting! “Suguru, can we talk please?” Dark eyes finally dart towards you.

“I thought you didn't want to play my games?”

“I-I was mad this morning when I should have shut my mouth.” Your voice was nearly inaudible. “I thought you were letting girls touch you.”

“No, you assumed girls were touching me.” Suguru clarified as he towered over you. “When I have been faithful and loyal to you since day one! But you, you let some guy buy you a drink, you allowed him the chance to hurt you!”

His words stung, but they were true. “I'm sorry, I was wrong. I put myself in a terrible position. All because I was jealous.” tears hit the floor as you finally looked up at Suguru with a sniffle. “I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance. I'll never let it happen again, Suguru.” Seeing you cry, hearing you apologize and own up for what happened, well, it left Suguru somewhat satisfied.

But he was still pissed.

“I hate it when people look at you like you're some meal for the taking. I hate it even more when you allow them to buy you a drink and drug you.” He lifted your chin with his forefinger, his eyes glancing at your neck. “Maybe I need to collar you and keep you on a fucking leash.”

His words were like ice, but there was a fire in his eyes. One you were familiar with. “I-If that would make you feel better, that's fine.”

"Maybe that'll make me feel better," Suguru growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as he looked into your eyes. "Maybe that's what I need. Total control. Make you mine in every sense of the word." He slowly smirked. "Yeah. That's it."

“O-Okay. . .yeah, I like the sound of that.”

The second he had your consent, his lips feverishly crashed against your own, kissing you deeply. Suguru pulled back a moment later, looking at your flushed face with a snark before kissing you again. Fuck you tasted so good, and the way you willingly submitted to him was almost too much for him to handle.

The intensity of the kiss and his hand gripping your throat. It made your pussy throb with unfiltered need. He was never this mean and rough, and holy hell. You liked it.

Feeling you melt against him has Suguru growling in need. "What? You like this, don't you?" He nipped at your neck, making sure he marked you. “Like me getting mad at you.”

You couldn't respond. All you managed to do was whine. And Suguru didn't like that. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing gently. "I asked you if you liked it bitch.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped for air. Tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. “Y-Yes, I like it when you're mad!” He let go of his hand on you, allowing it to simply hover over your sensitive throat.

"Now tell me if it was a lie. Do you like this?"

You whined, realizing he wasn't going to let up. “Yes! I'm telling you the truth, Sugu!”

Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah? God, what a nasty slut you are, Y/N." He quickly pulled your shirt up, diving into your tits, massaging them with both hands as he kissed and nipped at your hardening nipples.

Seeing Suguru like this, feral and angry, wanting to put you in your place. That was the only foreplay you would have needed. God, it was so hot.

Noticing your glazed-over eyes, Suguru let go moments later, sliding his hands down to pull your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Lucky me,” his eyes trailed over you, “I’m dating the prettiest bitch in the world~" He purred.

Biting your lip, you watched him. “Thank you.” Your thighs glistened with slick, and seeing that Suguru dragged you to the bedroom.

He threw you onto the mattress, grabbing both your legs and pressing them against your chest. Fully exposing your cunt for him to see in all its dripping glory. You turned red, your hand covering your face at his rough actions.

“W-What are you doing?” You squeaked out, peeking at him through your fingers.

"I told you I was going to make you mine," Suguru grumbled, reaching down, tugging down the hem of his sweatpants, tucking them under his balls. “My naughty slutty girlfriend doesn’t listen to me." He growled softly as he leaned down, kissing and biting at your neck again. It always made you melt, and he wanted to feel it again before he fucked you stupid.

You sighed breathlessly, shivering and melting against him. Mewls escaped your lips as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Mnngh, f-fucking fuck shit.” You sometimes hated how sensitive your neck was, and now that he knew it, you were clay in his hands.

Suguru held you down with one hand while sliding the other down to wrap around his cock, positioning it to a tight entrance. "Are you ready to be fucked into submission?~" He asked as he slid the tip inside of you.

Tilting your head back, you whine at the stretch. “F-Fuck.” You never would get over how big he was. “Suguru.” You tried looking at your conjoined bodies.

Suguru moaned, slowly sliding further inside of you. You could feel his hips trembling. He was holding back. Making sure he didn’t hurt you.

You stared at him in shock. “Fuck me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Y-You said you were going to make me yours. .that you were going to fuck me stupid.”

Suguru’s movement ceased as his

eyes widened, focused on you before an evil smile split across his face, and he slammed into you. "Fuck yeah-!!"

You dug your nails into his back. Eyes widening, as your mouth fell in an ‘O’ shape, all the air was fuvked out of your lungs.

Hissing at the scratches down his back, Suguru growled, the pain egging him on. He thrusted hard into you, quickly setting a dominating rhythm, ruining your insides with his massive cock. "Fucking-Fuck-! Such good fucking pussy. Too bad my girlfriend was a little shit last night. Or this could have been romantic~" He growled out. “Instead, I have to fuck some common fucking sense into her!”

Tears started to pour down your cheeks at the overstimulation. Before a sob could escape, Suguru gently slapped your cheek. "Nuh huh bitch, you're the one who told me to fuck you like I meant it, Princess~" He growled, one hand sliding down to rub your clit.

You whimpered and arched your back, “I-I know! I'm sorry! So sorry!.” You cried out while staring up at the ceiling.

“Tsk,” Suguru grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You're mine." He thrust harder into your tight pussy. "You're mine because I want you, Y/N. I fucking wanted you the second I saw you."

“Y-Yes!.” That was all you managed to say. “Yes, I’m yours.” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you ever let some stranger buy you a drink again, I won't be as fuckin’ nice. I love you, dumbassdont fuckin’ forget it! No one else but you!”

“Yes! I'm sorry it won't happen again!”

Suguru groaned, leaning down and biting your neck as he felt the coil in his stomach tightening. It was your grip around his cock that tightened with the bite that sent him over the edge. He started to fill you up, his cum painting your walls white.

You lay there panting softly as you felt his cum filling you up. “F-Fuck.” you breathed out, relaxing against the bed. Still buried inside of you, you looked down to see his entire torso, rippling muscles covered in sweat.

"You didn't cum."

Suguru throbbed inside of you, his cock pressing against your G-spot as he bent down to get closer to your face. "You're going to fuckin’ cum. Sure, I'm ticked off, but I’m not a sadistic asshole.” When you didn't respond, he sighed before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your vibrator. He turned it on the highest setting, pressing it against your clit right away. "Now be a good girl for once and cum."

“A-Ah! Sensitive Suguru!” You started rocking against him, nipples hard as you watched him. “Feels good, though~!!”

Suguru growled as he slowly rocked into you. "That's it~" He reached with his free hand, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.

Within seconds, whether it was the fact that you liked seeing Suguru so mad or the sex was just so good, his actions made you gush around his cock. The intensity of it made you scream, gripping the pillow behind you as your legs shook.

Feeling you cum around him was enough to have his cock filling you up with his cum for the second time this morning; globs of your combined juices seeped around his girth. "Shit-!"

You were shaking, eyes glazed over with pleasure. Just as you released your grip on the pillow. Suguru held you firmly against him before he slowly pulled out of you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. It was a vivid contrast to the man that just fucked you stupid, but it was also sweet and very much like Suguru.

“Don't ever scare me like that again. You got lucky last night Y/N.”

The guilt began to rise in your chest again. “I know I'm sorry. Truly, I am Sugu.” His eyes bore into yours. “I'm sorry.” he pressed another kiss against your lips.

“I'm sorry I didn't protect you.”

“Suguru, you don't have to apologize. You took great care of me last night.” he hummed, stroking your hair. “Please don't beat yourself up.”

“I won't if you don't.”

“Ah,” you giggled, shaking your head, “you would play that card.” You ran your hands over his shoulders.

“Yeah, just shut up and relax. You need to get all the rest you can.” there was a certain smugness in his tone. One that reminded you of your high school days.

You blinked, pulling back to stare at Suguru. “Why?”

“Because you owe Satoru a favor for saving you. And you'll be taking my place at the Sweets-Expo he wants to visit in Kyoto next weekend.”

“Just me and Satoru?” You gulped.

“For an entire weekend. And you know Satoru, he's going to visit every single vendor.” He smirked, hearing your audible groan. “Suffer.”

“Is it too late to ask you to stay mad at me?”

Suguru grinned against your skin. “That boat sailed the second you apologized when I got home.” he kissed your collarbone, savoring your groan of defeat.

#getou suguru x y/n #jjk men #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk smut #JJK #reader x geto #geto suguru #reader x suguru #suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru x you #suguru smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader

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zorosimpclub · 4 months

Text

bodyguard – Zoro NSFW

characters: bodyguard!zoro roronoa x bratty fem!reader (he's your bodyguard)

hate sex, degrading, light choking, mild angst with happy ending | smut | 18+ only – MDNI

word count: 4.8k

She lifted her gaze from her phone, scowling at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Standing before her was her bodyguard – a tall, muscular man with strikingly handsome features, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. His cropped green hair framed his sharp eye, and his snug-fitting black shirt showcased his well-built physique, exuding an air of both strength and professionalism.

"Hey Mr. Roronoa." She quickly fake smiled – she hated having to do that especially when she was annoyed but she had a reputation to maintain. Sure, the man had been her personal bodyguard for the past year or so, but she even had to put up a facade around him. He pissed her off so much and it was clear that she pissed him off but he was great at his job and it didn’t hurt that he was very easy on her eyes.

The green haired man looked her up and down, his eye narrowed. His gaze met with her scowl, feeling an ever so tiny smirk form on his lips but he wiped it away in an instant before she could process it. Despite his distaste for spoilt celebrities, the generous paychecks kept him in the business.

“Miss.”

"Let’s go, I’m drained. I need to get home and decompress." She huffed and started walking.

“Hm.” He replied simply, he took note of her attitude but chose to ignore it.

His footsteps followed close to hers as she walked. When she stopped, he did too. When she took her first step, so did he. He was at her every move – something, despite all the time they spent together, she was still not used to.

"You don't have to be so hot on my heels." She quirked her eyebrows and shot him a distasteful look.

“Hm, your safety is my main priority, Miss.” His voice was monotone, eye fixed on every corner around her, carefully scanning their surroundings. He had no intention of slacking behind or walking ahead of her, and he made sure she followed too.

His muscles flexed underneath his black shirt, and his height was quite intimidating. When he looked at her she felt like she was nothing more than a mouse compared to his towering size.

"Still not much of a talker, are you?" She carried on walking with her sunglasses disguise, it was only a matter of time before someone recognised her and flooded her, asking for pictures or autographs.

“I only talk if it’s mandatory.”

He didn’t want to be here, he was only here for the insane amounts of money he was paid for such a simple escort. His eye kept on scanning, and his footsteps remained the same, no intention of slowing down or walking ahead of her.

"It's mandatory now." Her eyes rolled in a display of exasperation, but a fake smile plastered her face as her real personality peeked through for a second.

He was onto her and she knew it. He saw right through her most of the time and it pissed her off. To the outer world, she was cheery and bubbly, but in reality, she was just a cynical brat who found keeping the act up exhausting. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to let him see her real side. A very small smirk grew to his lips at her exasperation.

"Is that so?" His voice was still monotone, his steps matching hers.

His gaze drifted, landing on hers momentarily. It felt as if sparks had ignited between them, he shrugged it off quicker than he thought that… after all, he couldn’t even stand her.

"Yes, just fill the silence.”

"Alright, how many of your fans know you’re a brat?”

His eye focused on her body as they walked, his smirk still present. He couldn't deny it, she was extremely attractive and had curves in all the right places. Zoro wasn’t one to indulge in his desires but today, he let himself enjoy the view. Her eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard by the question but being the true professional she was, she composed herself and flashed him another fake smile,

"What do you mean Mr. Roronoa? I'm no brat, how mean.”

“Let’s not kid each other, I see right through your little act.” There was a glint in his eye, he wasn’t falling for the whole nice girl act she was trying to sell him, he was around her long enough to pick up on all the subtle eye rolls and expression shifts.

“So, how many know? Or do you like playing the good girl when everyone is around?” Her presence pissed him off, he could feel his jaw clench automatically but he had to remind himself to not let her get to him.

"Maybe you've got me all wrong? Anyway, we're nearly at my house so you can just leave once I'm safely indoors."

She continued fake smiling and walked ahead of him, smile dropping when her face was out of his line of sight. He noticed it. He saw everything. How annoying. It seems that he was going to be a handful.

Just as she turned into her road she felt someone grab her wrist and yank her forward. The sudden grab of her wrist startled her, making her let out a shriek of surprise.

She looked up in horror only to find a strange man smiling creepily at her, "Y/N, I'm your biggest fan! Please marry me! You're the only one for me!"

Zoro reacted quickly to the situation, not a moment passed before he grabbed the man’s fingers that were wrapped around her wrist.

“Let go.” He spoke, his voice cold and unforgiving.

"W-who are you? She is mine!" The stranger babbled with fear in his eyes.

Zoro’s eye narrowed, he wasn’t going to give into this man’s tantrums. Not one bit. He had an insane level of self-control, even when he was tempted to snap this man's wrist, he still didn’t. He didn’t let his temper get that far.

“You heard me, let her go before I’m forced to take more drastic measures.”

The man screamed slightly with wide eyes, scrambling away after looking at the look on his face, "Y-you're a monster!”

A small smirk rose to his lips at the man’s words. It was a pleasant sight to watch the stranger scurry away.

“I’ve been called worse things than that.”

His attention shifted to her once again, she seemed stunned by his actions. No matter how many times the man protected her, each time was just as stunning. He did everything so gracefully, her heart hammered in her chest.

"H-he ran away just from one look..."

“You’d be surprised of what I’m capable of.” His voice was still monotone, but this time she could feel the slight edge to his tone. He turned to her and lightly grabbed her wrist to examine it.

“Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you in any way?”

"N-no... I'm just... just a little shaken up." She couldn't even hide how she really felt, it was definitely a scary experience, she was so glad he was there to save her.

"Thanks for saving me. Again.”

He continued to stare at her with his piercing gaze, it felt like he could look straight into her soul.

Her sudden thanks caught him off guard, he almost forgot how normal it was for people to thank and praise him. He didn’t feel much from it any more, it was simply a job that he was good at.

“It’s my duty.” He replied with a sharp tone, his grip on her wrist loosening.

Pulling her keys from her pocket, she unlocked her house cautiously. She was still on edge and didn't feel comfortable being left alone.

"Hey...I know your job is just to escort me to and from places but... do you think you could come in? I feel a bit uneasy being alone." She was normally okay on her own but today felt different.

A slight flicker of his eye met hers as she unlocked her house, they remained locked on hers as she spoke. It took him a moment to respond.

“Under one condition.”

“Okay.”

"You show me your real personality, no fake smiles or playing the part bullshit."

She knew he wasn’t playing any games with her this time. She may have seemed to be a kind hearted famous woman, but he saw through the fake smiles and knew that it was all a facade.

"This is the real me, but okay." She fake smiled at him once again and let him inside her house, making her way to the kitchen. "Do you want some tea or coffee?”

"Coffee, no sugar or milk." He replied, his eye following her every movement as she went to the kitchen. She was such an easy person to read, even when she tried to hide who she really was.

In a way he found it amusing how she tried to keep up this little act despite giving her real personality away. Zoro wasn't one to play games but he already decided then and there that he was going to make her break character. He hated that nasally high voice that she used around her fans, or the way she flashed them fake smiles. He had enough.

She nodded and started to brew them both a cup of coffee. "So Mr. Roronoa, how was your weekend?”

"Good. So how long are you going to keep up this fake attitude?" His voice was still monotone, he wasn't going to show her any genuine emotions. She could have the privilege of seeing that side of him but she had to earn it. He took a seat at her dining table, still watching her every move like a hawk.

She was starting to get pissed off but she forced another smile, setting down the coffee mug in front of him, "Like I said, this is my real personality."

Her face was smiling but if he was observant, he could hear the undertones of frustration in her sweet voice.

“Hmm, I think I’m starting to get a better picture from this little interaction.”

She really thought she could put up an act and keep it going in front of him, but no matter how hard she tried, he saw clear through it. He took a sip of the coffee, he didn’t even thank her, he was just looking at her with a condescending smirk.

"What do you mean?" the smile still on her face, as she took a sip from her coffee.

“You’re not as innocent as you try to make yourself out to be.” His voice was still monotone and from in the corner of his eye he saw the slight shift in her body language. He was getting to her.

“Your little act has run dry, I see right through it. I can tell that behind this innocent facade is a brat. Am I wrong?”

She clenched her jaw slightly, unclenching it quickly after reminding herself that she had to remain calm, "You're wrong.”

His smirk became more prominent at her answer, he was enjoying this a little too much. Her attempt to remain innocent was clearly no match for him.

“Oh is that so? Let's do an experiment then.”

"Go ahead." Irritation coursed through her veins as he skilfully prodded at her patience, in short, he knew how to push her buttons.

He looked at her, eye narrowing in thought. His gaze remained for what felt like a moment too long for her, but she didn't look away.

“I’ll do something and you will just have to keep your cool. If you fail, I will get a better idea of how you really react under stressful situations. Does that sound good?”

"Fine." She was determined to keep up her cheerful, innocent persona at all costs.

The corners of Zoro's muscles flexed slightly. His lips twisted into an amused smile as he watched her face. He set his coffee down and tilted his head slightly.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat anything I say and I will be as brutally blunt as possible. If you can't handle what I say then please tell me so I can stop, Miss."

"I already said fine didn't I?" She grinned through gritted teeth.

He raised an eyebrow at her words, she was trying her best to suppress her frustration, but it was so obvious that she was pissed off. He remained firm and unmoved, it seemed like he had complete control of himself, and this made her even more frustrated.

“Alright then, first off, you're not that attractive as everyone makes you out to be. I don’t see what all the hype is about.”

She felt herself get ticked off but wasn't going to let him win this and see her ugly side. "Okay.”

He smirked slightly, knowing that this was getting to her. She was struggling not to snap, holding her tongue as best as she could.

"You're also not the greatest singer either, your songs sound like they were written by a rat on a keyboard. And what's with your fake laughs when people make jokes? What's with the fake cheering and smiling when someone compliments you? You're just an entitled brat." He added on.

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from yelling at him, he was bruising her ego and it was obvious. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her real side.

He noticed her biting her lip, as the corners of his eyebrows raised upwards, and he smirked slightly. He was definitely getting under her skin, she was barely keeping it together. He didn't know how much longer she could keep it up.

"I could just tell by looking at you that you're spoiled, even your voice sounds so whiney and you speak in a condescending manner. The way you dress is also very unappealing, my Grandma dresses better than you."

That was the breaking point. She snapped, a surge of anger propelling her into action. With determined long strides, she closed the distance between them and sharply commanded, "Shut the hell up.”

Now he had her, he saw the moment her facade completely shattered and she finally lost her cool.

Zoro smirked and tilted his head slightly as if to mock her but he was honestly rather interested in her reaction. She was much more of a brat then he had originally thought.

Her sharp commands were met with his unmoving stare, showing no signs of fear or intimidation.

"What? Struck a nerve, Miss?"

She gripped his tight shirt and pulled him down to her face, "I said. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”

There was a moment of resistance when she grabbed his shirt, he refused to budge for a moment until she tugged at it sharply. His eye looked down at her angrily, the corners of his lips curled up into a sadistic smile. His stare intensified when she spoke. He stayed like this for a moment before he spoke sharply, his voice now just as cold.

"Make me."

She doesn't know what came over her, perhaps it was the intensity of the anger and attraction she felt towards him, but she pulled him in closer and crashed her lips harshly on his. Her sudden actions took him by surprise, he didn't think she would be this rash, but it wasn't unwanted, at least from him. When she crashed her lips against his, it wasn't soft and passionate, this kiss held a lot of force that made him feel like she wanted to scream at him.

It wasn't bad though, in fact, it was electric and Zoro took control quickly by wrapping his arms around her waist. His lips locked with hers, their tongues fighting for dominance in an aggressive but satisfying way.

–

“Hmmm, I guess you like it rough." he teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“Shut up and kiss me idiot.” She snapped and blushed a little as she felt his touch on her.

Zoro chuckled softly against her lips before complying, deepening their kiss once more. His hands roamed up her back, entwining in her hair as he took control of the passionate exchange.

He pulled away and gripped her hair softly, “Looks like you’re not he good girl your fans think you are.”

She gasped and furrowed her brows to snap a response at him but he moved his fingers teasingly on her inner thigh. “S-shut up…”

Zoro hummed softly in response, kissing her neck. He smirked to himself as he felt her body tremble with anticipation, "You're mine to order around now."

“Y-you wish!” She gripped his wrist and panted in need.

Laughing softly, Zoro leaned down to capture her lips once more, his free hand sliding down her thigh, teasingly close but not quite touching her clit. He continued their heated kiss, his tongue dancing with hers.

“I’m going to ruin you, understand? A brat like you, who pretends to be an angel to the outside world, needs to be punished.”

“Fuck you…” She spat out but she loved how he made her feel, “P-please…”

"Please what?" He asked, leaning in closer to her ear as he traced another path up her thigh with his fingertip. "Tell me what you want, brat.”

“Shut up and respect me!” She wouldn’t admit but she loved him treating her like a slut, degrading her whilst the rest of the world worshipped the ground she walked on.

“You want me to respect you? You think a fucking brat like you deserves my respect?" Zoro asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're a fucking mess, look at you craving the disrespect."

She felt her body heat up at his words, he was right, she wanted to be disrespected by him. “Y-you’re wrong!”

"Am I?" He smirked, his finger finally reaching her core, teasingly rubbing circles around her swollen, sensitive nub. "You're not fooling anyone, sweetheart. You're mine to break and make."

She bit back a moan and glared at him as he toyed with her body, it felt so good but she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “You wish!”

“I don’t wish, I know that you are.” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body against his as he continued to tease her with his fingers. “Look at you, you’re so weak and pathetic, you love being a slut don’t you?.”

“Shut up and fuck me right now!” She moaned against his chest as he toyed skilfully with her clit.

"Is that an order or a plea?" He asked, chuckling softly into her ear before sliding his fingers inside her, finally giving her the release she'd been craving. "Dirty little whore."

“R-Roronoa!” She arched her back and cried out as she edged towards her climax.

"Zoro." He corrected her sternly, feeling her body shudder underneath him. "Cum for me." His fingers continued to work their magic, pushing her over the edge once more with his cock throbbing in response to her sweet moans.

“Nnnn…” She writhed around in his grip as he overstimulated her with his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out of her, licking them clean without breaking eye contact. “Get on your fucking knees slut. It’s time that I put you in your place.”

She slid down slowly, her eyes still fixated on his lustful ones. She hated him, he hated her yet the feeling that was brewing between right this instant was so foreign.

“Unzip me and suck my dick.” He commanded roughly, coldness in his tone.

Her hands reached for his zipper and pulled it down, breath shaky from the pleasure she felt before. Without missing a beat, she gripped his cock and pumped it slowly before taking it in her mouth.

“Yes, that's it." He groaned, his hands finding their way to her hair. "Suck it like the filthy brat you are."

She took him deeper in her mouth, slobbering on him. It seemed that the pace was too slow for him though, so he ended up gripping her hair tighter and fucking her mouth roughly.

"Fuck!" He growled, his hips bucking forward as he lost control. His cock throbbed in her mouth, her warmth and wetness driving him wild.

She felt tears well up in her eyes, as he slapped her cheek lightly – it felt so good. She wanted more and more. She was slowly becoming addicted to him.

Zoro watched her closely, the mix of pleasure and pain etched on her face. "That's it." he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You like it rough, don't you?" He pulled her off his cock, leaving her gasping for air. "Stand up."

She complied immediately and got up without a word, her once bratty mouth quiet and anticipating.

"Good girl." he praised, grabbing her hair again. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock at her tight entrance. "You're going to take every inch of me, aren't you?"

“S-shut up…” although she was a desperate, sloppy mess for him, she felt part of her ego and pride peak through. She wouldn’t back down without a fight.

“You’ve already lost." he spat angrily, slamming into her in one swift motion. Her gasp turned into a moan as he filled her up, claiming her body as his own. He started thrusting, his movements rough and demanding, her body moving with him. "Now take what you've been begging for, I'll fuck you till you're nothing but a sobbing mess."

She leaned her head against his chest as he fucked her standing up. He loved watching all of her expressions as he had his way with her, all these faces that he hadn’t seen before. But that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Zoro pulled out of her, gripped her wrist and pulled her to her window only to push her against it. He wanted the whole world to see her getting fucked by him.

She gasped when she felt her breasts come into contact with the cool window, “W-what are you doing?!”

"I'm teaching you a lesson," he growled, slamming back into her. "You're a dirty little whore, and the world needs to know it. Let them watch as I pound into your needy cunt.”

She didn’t even care at the thought of anyone seeing her at this point, she was focused on the intense pleasure she was feeling as he skilfully thrusted into her, hitting the right spot over and over again.

His eye darkened with lust as he watched her face twist in pleasure. He loved seeing her like this, so open and vulnerable. Zoro slammed into her harder, grunting with the force of his thrusts. "That's it, brat. Take it all."

“Please… please… more!”

“More?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "You want more?" He pulled out of her and quickly slid back in, his cock rubbing against her G-spot.

"How about this?" he growled, starting to pound into her harder than ever, making sure to hit that very spot over and over again.

She screamed in pleasure, not caring who heard and threw her head back against his chest, “Y-Yes! Right there!”

His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of their bodies. The sound of her screams, her pleas, fueled him further. He gripped her hips tighter, his other hand reaching up to hold onto her neck, marking her as his.

She felt her orgasm near and started fucking herself onto his cock, desperate for release.

He groaned at the feel of her tightening around him. The pleasure was too much, it was almost unbearable. "Cum for me." he growled, thrusting deeper into her. "Cum on my cock, brat. Let the world know how desperate you are!"

She came undone and creamed around his cock as she let out a string of moans, “Zoro!”

Her screams echoed in his ears, driving him to the edge. He was close too, he could feel it – the way she gripped around his cock was too much for him. “Where do you want my cum, you pathetic whore?”

“I-Inside! Please!” She couldn’t think straight, her tongue out of her mouth as she panted.

"Look at you being such a dirty slut, I bet your fans have no idea how much of a cum dump you are huh?" He leaned down and growled into her ear, his thrusts growing more erratic as he reached his climax. With one final push, he filled her womb with his hot seed, moaning her name. "Fuck!”

She cried out, a third orgasm ripping through her, “Aah!”

He pulled out of her, his cock glistening with her juices. "You're such a mess." he smirked and watched her fall to the ground

She panted, steadying herself on the floor. The pleasure was just too much for her.

“Go back to your fans and tell them what a good time you had with your bodyguard." he said, smirking down at her. He couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. "And don't forget to thank me for the ride."

“Shut up…”

"Tsk, tsk.” he chided, stepping over her and reaching for his clothes. "You're such a spoiled brat even when you're being used like this."

She blinked her tears back and shot him a pained look, showing him that she’s no longer playing the game they were playing. She felt vulnerable and all she wanted right now was to be held and cared for.

His gaze softened, maybe he had pushed it too far. Zoro crouched down to pick her up bridal style and carried her to what he assumed was the shower. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly and felt the warm water wash away signs of their previous activity along with her tears. He leaned down to grab the shower gel and lathered it on her body. Her heart fluttered at his gentle touch and surprisingly caring nature, “Thank you…”

"Just doing my duty." he replied, his voice still rough around the edges.

He cleaned her with gentle motions, his hands lingering a little too long in some places. He noticed she didn't object, so he continued, his mind wandering, lost in thought. She grabbed the shower gel and did the same for him, lathering and cleansing all over his body. There was an unspoken feeling growing between them, which both of them had noticed.

“Hmm?" he asked, breaking out of his trance. Eye flickering to hers, smiling softly at her. There was something there, something more than just lust or anger. He couldn't quite place it, but he liked it.

She smiled softly up at him, letting the warm water hit their skin, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know." he said, leaning against the tiled wall. "But there's something about you that I can't seem to resist. Even after knowing how much of a brat you are." He reached out, running his hand through her hair, pulling her closer.

She continued smiling at him, “What? Don’t tell me my bodyguard has fallen for me?”

Zoro couldn't help the full blown smile that spread across his face. "Maybe just a little bit." He reached around her, slipping his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"But I'm not just your bodyguard, am I?"

“Are you not?”

His heart skipped a beat at her question. "No, I'm not." He leaned in closer, their bodies pressed against each other.

Her heart rate picked up as she stared lovingly into his eye, “Is that so?”

He could feel the desire coursing through him, making it difficult to think of anything else but her. "I think you can feel it too." he whispered, his lips brushing against hers lightly.

She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, “I can.”

The warmth of her lips against his sent shivers down his spine as he deepened the kiss. The kiss was different this time, it was gentle and sweet – it felt comforting and soft.

She pulled away and hugged him close, “I want you by my side…more than just a bodyguard.”

“I already am, Miss.”

phew! hope you guys liked this and as always, please let me know your thoughts / if you have and fic requests! (also I'm working on part 2 for my previous fic so keep an eye out for that <3)

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